Skip to main content

Full text of "Aristotles psychology ; a treatise on the principles of life (De anima and Parva naturalia)"

See other formats 


ARISTOTLE'S  PSYCHOLOGY 


A  TREATISE  ON  THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  LIFE 


{DE  ANIMA    and  PARVA   NATUBALIA, 


TRANSLATED  WITH  INTRODUCTION   AND  NOTES 


BY 

WILLIAM  ALEXANDER  HAMMOND,   M.A.,   Ph.D. 

ASSISTANT-PROFESSOR   OF   ANCIENT   AND   MEDIAEVAL   PHILOSOPHY    IN 
CORNELL   UNIVERSITY 


bonbon 
SWAN  SONNENSCHEIN   &  CO.,    Lim. 

NEW  YORK :   THE  MACMILLAN  CO. 
1902 


4255 


GLASGOW   :     PRINTED   AT   THE   UNIVERSITY    PRESS 
BY   ROBERT   MACLEHOSE    AND   CO. 


r 


^0 

WILLIAM  WATSON   GOODWIN, 

ELIOT  PROFESSOR   OF  GREEK  LITERATURE,    EMERITUS, 

IN  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY, 

MY  FIRST  TEACHER  IN  THE  WRITINGS  OF  ARISTOTLE, 

THIS   BOOK  IS   GRATEFULLY  INSCRIBED. 


PREFACE. 

The  comparative  inaccessibility  of  the  Parva  naturalia 
(they  exist  in  English  only  in  Taylor's  paraphrase)  has 
induced  me  to  prepare  an  English  version  of  these  im- 
portant tractates.  To  this  I  have  added  a  translation  of 
the  Be  anima,  in  order  that  English  readers  might  have  in 
a  single  volume  a  practically  complete  account  of  Aris- 
totle's psychological  theories.  Such  a  work  seemed  to  me 
to  be  all  the  more  necessary  at  the  present  time  in  view 
of  the  need  of  available  primary  sources  for  historical 
research  in  philosophy  and  psychology.  An  adequate 
history  of  psychology  has  not  as  yet  been  written. 

The  translation  of  Aristotle's  works,  owing  to  their 
crabbed  Greek,  their  puzzling  lacunae  and  breviloquence, — 
oftentimes  they  are  almost  unintelligible  jottings  intended, 
perhaps,  for  lecture-notes  or  for  later  elaboration  which 
they  never  received, — has  at  no  time  been  regarded  by 
scholars  as  an  easy  or  attractive  task.  It  is  only  their 
immense  historical  significance  and  the  intrinsic  value  of 
their  content  that  could  induce  one  now-a-days  to  set 
hand  to  the  work.     The  Be  anima  and  Parva  naturalia 

cannot   be    said   to   be   in   a   more    satisfactory   condition 

vii 


Vlll  PREFACE 

than  the  other  writings  of  Aristotle.  I  have,  however, 
attempted  no  speculative  reconstruction,  such  as  has  been 
applied  with  some  success  to  the  Politics  by  Barthelemy- 
St.-Hilaire  and  Susemihl.  The  attempt  has  not  been  very 
fortunate  in  the  case  of  Essen's  restoration  of  the  De 
anima,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  his  predecessors  in  the 
same  endeavour  have  not  been  more  successful.  Growing 
distrust  of  the  radical  treatment  of  texts  seems  to  me  a 
hopeful  mark  of  critical  scholarship.  My  translation  is 
based  on  the  text  of  the  late  Wilhelm  Biehl  (Teubner 
series),  whose  emendations  I  have  constantly  compared 
with  the  Berlin  edition,  and  with  whose  conservative 
judgment  I  have  generally  found  myself  in  accord.  Where 
I  have  deviated  from  his  text,  I  have  stated  my  reading 
in  a  foot-note.  In  1897  I  made  a  careful  examination  of 
Codex  E  (Parisiensis  Regius  1853),  the  best  of  the  MSS. 
for  the  texts  here  translated,  but  as  Biehl  collated  this 
Codex  in  the  same  year  and  published  his  Parva  natur- 
alia  the  year  following,  my  work  was  rendered  unneces- 
sary. In  any  case,  I  was  not  interested  primarily  in 
textual  questions,  excepting  in  so  far  as  the  establishment 
of  the  text  was  ancillary  to  the  establishment  of  doctrine. 
I  have  aimed,  therefore,  to  avoid  the  accumulation  of  notes 
of  a  purely  scholastic  kind,  which  in  the  present  volume 
could  only  be  marks  of  a  diligent  pedantry,  and  while  I 
have  neglected  no  source  of  information  and  assistance 
amongst  ancient  or  modern  commentators,  I  have  rigidly 
excluded  all  such  matter  as  had  no  real  interest  for  the 
doctrinal  exposition  of  the  treatises  in  hand,  or  for  the 
history  of  science. 


PREFACE  IX 

M.  Rodier's  text  of  the  De  anima  with  translation  and 
notes  (2  vols.,  Paris,  1900)  is  a  notable  product  of  French 
scholarship,  in  which  the  widely  scattered  materials  of 
interpretation  have  been  brought  together  and  utilized  with 
singular  industry  and  insight.  M.  Rodier's  volumes  have 
been  prepared  with  a  bias  of  interest  different  from  that 
with  which  my  own  work  is  written,  concerned,  as  they 
are,  largely  with  questions  of  text,  of  philological  criticism, 
and  of  the  literary  aspects  of  interpretation.  They  do 
not  include  the  Parva  naturalia.  The  aim  of  the  present 
translation  and  introduction  is  rather  to  make  easily  acces- 
sible to  English  scholars  the  scientific  content  of  these 
Aristotelian  treatises,  and  thereby  to  facilitate  inquiry  into 
the  history  of  philosophical  and  psychological  ideas.  For 
this  reason  my  work  does  not  duplicate  the  much  wider 
and  more  ambitious  investigations  of  M.  Rodier,  to  whose 
scholarly  labour  I  wish  to  pay  my  warmest  tribute. 

I  desire  further  to  record  here  my  grateful  acknowledg- 
ment of  various  and  valuable  help  from  my  colleagues. 
Professors  Bennett,  Creighton,  and  Titchener.  Professor 
Titchener  has  read  the  proof-sheets  of  the  entire  volume, 
and  to  him  I  am  especially  indebted  for  many  suggestions 
and  criticisms. 


Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.Y., 
July  29th,  1902. 


CONTENTS. 

INTKODUCTION. 

PAGE 

I.   The  Soul  and  Life xv 

II.   The  Faculties  of  the  Soul xxvi 

III.  Nutrition  and  Eeproduction xxix 

IV.  Sensation xxxv 

Y.   The  Common  or  Central  Sense 1 

VI.   Imagination  and  Memory lvi 

VII.   Practical  Keason  and  Will lxiv 

VIII.   Creative  Reason lxxi 

DE   ANIMA. 

Book  I.   History  of  Psychological  Theories — 

Chap.  i.  Methods  of  investigation,  separability  of  the  soul, 

relation  of  soul  to  body 1 

ii.  History  of  theories,  theory  of  Empedocles,  theory 

of  Democritus,  theory  of  Anaxagoras  -         -         10 

iii.  The  soul  and  motion,  pre- Aristotelian  theories      -         18 
iv.  The  soul  a  harmony,  the  soul  and  the  body,  the 

monadic  theory  - 26 

v.  The  soul  and  the  elements,  the  soul  and  its  parts, 

divisibility  of  the  soul 32 

Book  II.   Faculties  of  the  Soul — 

Chap.  i.  The  notion  of  substance,  definition  of  the  soul       -         42 
ii.  Animate  and  inanimate,  the  principle  of  life,  the 

soul  and  body 48 

iii.  Various  meanings  of  soul       -----         54 


XU  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Chap.  iv.  Soul    and    final    cause,   the    soul   and    nutrition, 

principle  of  nutrition 57 

v.  Potential  and  actual,  sensation  and  thought  -         -  64 

vi.  Sense-qualities       -------  69 

vii.  Vision  and  its  medium 71 

viii.  Sound  and  its  medium,  definition  of  voice,  vocal 

utterance  --------  75 

ix.  The  sense  of  smell 82 

x.  The  sense  of  taste 85 

xi.  The  sense  of  touch,  the  medium  of  touch       -         -  88 
xii.  Relation    of    sense-organ   to  stimulus,  media  of 

sensation 93 

Book  III.   Sensation,  Imagination,  and  Thought — 

Chap.  i.  The  '  common  sensibles ' 95 

ii.  Sense-perception,  the  '  common  sense '  -         -         -  99 
iii.  Imagination,  imagination  and  truth,  imagination 

and  light  - 105 

iv.  Theory  of  reason,  abstract  thought        -         -         -  112 

v.  Active  and  passive  reason 117 

vi.  Thought  and  truth 119 

vii.  Thought  and  images,  thought  and  its  object-         -  122 

viii.  Ideas  and  images  -  126 

ix.  Powers  of  the  soul,  reason  and  desire    -         -         -  128 

x.  Psychology  and  conduct,  function  of  desire    -         -  132 

xi.  The  moving  principle 136 

xii.  Nutrition  and  sensation,  sensation  and  well-being  138 

xiii.  Sense  of  touch       -         -         -         -         -         -         -  142 


PARVA  NATURALIA. 

On  Sensation  and  the  Sensible — 
Chap.  i.  Purpose  of  sensation,  importance  of  hearing  -         -       145 
ii.  The  organs  of  sense,  theories  of  vision  -         -  150 

iii.  The    diaphanous,   theory   of   colours,    colour   and 

mixture *  157 


CONTENTS  Xlll 

PAGE 

Chap.  iv.  Nature  of  flavours,  flavour  and  moisture,  sense  of 

touch 164 

v.  Nature    of    smell,   function   of  smell,   smell  and 

respiration,  smell  and  nutrition         -         -         -       171 
vi.  Sense  and  magnitude,  medium  of  sensation  -         -       180 
vii.  Fusion  of  sensations,  co-ordinate  sensations,  simul- 
taneity, limits  of  perception        -         -         -         -       186 

II.   On  Memory  and  Recollection — 

Chap.  i.  Memory  and  time,  memory  a  picture,  memory  and 

phantasm 195 

ii.  Association  of  ideas,  processes  of  memory,  recollec- 
tion     203 

III.  On  Sleeping  and  Waking — 

Chap.  i.  Sleep  and  sensation,  sleep  and  nutrition         -         -       213 
ii.  The  central  sense,  form  and  matter,  movements 

in  sleep 218 

iii.  Animal  heat  and  sleep,  food  and  sleep,  the  blood 

and  sleep 224 

IV.  On  Dreams — 

Chap.  i.  Dreams  and  illusion       .._-_.  231 

ii.  After-images,  the  eye  and  the  mirror,  illusion        -  235 
iii.  Movement    in    dreams,    imagination    in    dreams, 

dreamless  sleep -         -  240 

V.   On  Prophecy  in  Sleep — 

Chap.  i.  Prophetic  dreams  - 247 

ii.  Power  of  prevision,  interpretation  of  dreams  -       251 

VI.   On  Longevity  and  Shortness  of  Life — 

Chap.  i.  The  tenure  of  life -         -  256 

ii.  Causes  of  destruction     ------  258 

iii.  The  perishable  and  imperishable  -         -         -         -  260 

iv.  Length  of  life  in  plants  and  animals      -         -         -  262 

v.  Causes  of  long  life  ------  264 

vi.  Comparative  longevity  ------  267 


XIV  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

VII.   On  Youth  and  Old  Age,  and  on  Life  and  Death — 

Chap.  i.  Life  and  Sensation          ------  270 

ii.  Unity  of  the  life-principle 273 

iii.  Development  of  life       --.._.  276 

iv.  Congenital  heat -  279 

v.  Extinction  and  exhaustion     -----  281 

vi.  Regulation  of  animal  heat     -----  284 

VIII.   On  Respiration — 

Chap.  i.  Purpose  of  respiration 286 

ii.  Aquatic  animals 288 

iii.  Lungs  and  gills     - 290 

iv.  Theory  of  Democritus,  heat  and  respiration  -         -  293 

v.  Plato's  theory  of  circular  movement       -         -         -  296 

vi.  Pythagorean  theory,  respiration  and  nutrition       -  298 

vii.  Theory  of  Empedocles  regarding  respiration          -  299 

viii.  Animal  heat,  regulative  function  of  respiration     -  302 

ix.  Control  of  temperature,  respiration  of  insects        -  304 

x.  Function  of  lungs  and  gills   -----  307 

xi.  The  windpipe  and  epiglottis          -  309 

xii.  Respiration  of  whales  and  dolphins        -         -         -  311 

xiii.  Lungs  and  the  supply  of  blood      -         -         -         -  313 

xiv.  A  theory  of  Empedocles,  effect  of  environment      -  315 

xv.  Physiology  of  heat-regulation        -         -         -         -  318 

xvi.  Position  of  heart  and  gills      -         -         -  319 

xvii.  Birth  and  death 321 

xviii.  Causes  of  death     -         - 324 

xix.  Inhalation  and  exhalation 325 

xx.  Movements  of  the  heart 326 

xxi.  Contraction  and  expansion  of  lungs,  conditions  of 

life,  natural  history  and  medicine,      -         -         -  328 

Bibliography 331 


INTRODUCTION. 

I. 

The  Soul  and  Life. 

Aristotle's  theories  regarding  the  structure  and  functions 
of  the  'soul'  are  found  chiefly  in  the  De  Anima1 
and  the  tractates  collectively  known  as  the  Parva 
Naturalia?  These  works  belong  to  that  part  of  the 
corpus  which  deals  with  what  Aristotle  understands 
by  Physics,  i.e.  the  world  of  corporeal  substances,  sub- 
stances subject  to  motion  and  rest.  Mathematical  bodies, 
not  being  subject  to  motion,  are  excluded.  Soul  is 
ascribed  to  all  bodies  whose  principle  of  motion  is 
inherent  in  their  own  nature.  In  other  words,  it  is  to  all 
organic  bodies  that  Aristotle  applies  the  term ;  to  him  the 
word  '  soul '  is  synonymous  with  the  word  '  life.'  Accord- 
ingly, the  higher  phenomena  of  mental  life  are  included 
among  the  vital  activities.  Aristotle,  therefore,  regards 
Psychology  from  the  point  of  view  of  Biology. 

The  philosopher  of  Stagira  is  known  chiefly  through  his 
works  on  Logic,  Metaphysics,  Ethics,  and  Politics.  It 
was  mainly  through  these  disciplines  that  he  dominated 
the  intellectual  development  of  the  western  world  down  to 
the  era  of  modern  science ;  and  yet  his  writings  on  Physics 

1  See  note,  Translation,  p.  1.         2See  note,  Translation,  p.  145. 
xv 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

occupy  more  space  (taking  as  a  standard  the  Berlin  edition, 
which  contains,  it  is  true,  some  spurious  treatises)  than  all 
the  other  treatises  put  together.  Suidas,  indeed,  gave  him 
the  title  of  the  "  Secretary  of  Nature,"  while  Dante,  who 
was  conversant  with  the  speculative  or  practical  side  of 
his  philosophy,  called  him  "  the  master  of  those  that  know."  1 
The  studies  of  Aristotle  appear  to  have  been  concerned 
chiefly  with  the  phenomena  of  nature,  whose  processes  it 
was  the  primary  function  of  his  philosophy  to  explain. 

The  thing  which  most  astonished  Athenaeus  (one  of  the 
most  learned  Greeks  of  the  Ptolemaic  era)  in  his  reading  of 
Aristotle's  works,  was  the  Stagirite's  wonderful  knowledge 
of  animal  life.  He  says  in  the  Deipnosophists  :  "  Aristotle, 
my  dear  Democritus,  about  whom  the  sages  incessantly 
talk  and  whose  accuracy  they  constantly  praise,  is  a  marvel 
to  me.  I  should  like  to  know  from  what  Proteus  or 
Nereus  of  the  deep  sea  he  learned  what  fish  do,  how  they 
sleep,  how  they  live.  For  he  has  told  us  in  his  writings 
all  about  these  things,  so  that  he  has  become,  in  the  words 
of  the  comic  poet,  '  a  wonder  to  fools.' " 2 

In  contrast  with  this  trivial,  popular  conception  of 
Aristotle's  work,  I  quote  here  Aristotle's  own  words  touch- 
ing his  attitude  towards  the  various  spheres  of  scientific 
inquiry,  words  very  significant  for  their  singular  catho- 
licity. "  By  way  of  introduction  we  observe  that 
some  members  of  the  universe  are  ungenerated,  im- 
perishable, and  eternal,  while  others  are  subject  to 
generation     and     decay.       The     former     are      excellent 

2I1  maestro  di  color  che  sanno.    Inferno,  iv.  131. 
2  Deipnosophistae,  Bk.  viii.,  chap  47. 


THE    SOUL    AND    LIFE  XV11 

beyond  compare  and  divine,  but  are  less  accessible  to 
knowledge.  The  evidence  that  might  throw  light  on  them 
and  on  the  problems  which  we  long  to  solve  respecting 
them,  is  furnished  but  scantily  by  sensation,  whereas 
respecting  perishable  plants  and  animals  we  have  abun- 
dant information,  living  as  we  do  in  the  midst  of  them, 
and  ample  data  may  be  collected  concerning  all  their 
different  varieties  if  only  we  are  willing  to  take  sufficient 
pains.  Both  departments,  however,  have  their  special 
charm.  The  scanty  conceptions  to  which  we  can  attain 
of  celestial  things  give  us,  from  their  excellence,  more 
pleasure  than  all  our  knowledge  of  the  world  in  which 
we  live ;  just  as  a  half  glimpse  of  persons  whom  we  love 
is  more  delightful  than  a  leisurely  view  of  other  things, 
whatever  their  number  and  dimensions.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  certitude  and  in  completeness  our  knowledge  of 
terrestrial  things  has  the  advantage.  Moreover,  their 
greater  nearness  and  affinity  to  us  balance  somewhat  the 
loftier  interest  of  the  heavenly  things  that  are  the  objects 
of  the  higher  philosophy.  Having  already  treated  of  the 
celestial  world,  as  far  as  our  conjectures  could  reach,  we 
proceed  to  treat  of  animals,  without  omitting,  to  the  best 
of  our  ability,  any  member  of  the  kingdom,  however 
ignoble.  For  if  some  have  no  graces  to  charm  the  sense, 
yet  even  these,  by  disclosing  to  intellectual  perception  the 
artistic  spirit  that  designed  them,  give  immense  pleasure 
to  all  who  can  trace  links  of  causation  and  are  in- 
clined to  philosophy."  1 

1  Aristotle,  On  the  Parts  of  Animals,  translated  by  Ogle,  London,  1882, 
p.  16. 


Of 


xvm  INTRODUCTION 

Aristotle  regards  the  physical  world  as  divided  into  two 
realms  (the  later  and  now  obsolete  division  into  three 
kingdoms :  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral,  is  due  to  the 
alchemists):  (1)  th^_gj:gajaicLJffi:Qrld  (ra  e/x^X") >  an(^  (2) 
the  inorjramcjvorld  (ra  a\/svxa).  The  characteristic  mark 
of  the  organic  world  is  the  possession  of  soul  (\/svx>i),  by 
virtue  of  which  it  is  endowed  with  the  power  of  self-move- 
ment. Its  development  and  transformations  are  due  to  this 
native  soul-force  or  life.  Life  is  the  universal  form  of 
organic  activity ;  sensation  and  the  various  elements  of 
consciousness  are  specific  forms.  Nutritive  life  and  mental 
life  are  different  manifestations  of  a  single  psychical  power, 
the  latter  representing  a  higher  stage  in  the  evolution  of 
yjsvxy'h  '  Life,'  or  the  inherent  capacity  of  a  thing  to  effect 
changes  in  itself,  has  several  meanings.  Whatever 
possesses  any  of  the  following  capacities  is  said  to  'live', 
(1)  reason;  (2)  sensation;  (3)  local  movement;  (4)  in- 
ternal movement  or  transformation,  viz.  nutrition,  growth, 
and  decay.  The  last  power  is  common  to  all  living  things, 
and  is  the  basis  for  the  further  development  of  the  higher 
powers.  These  various  forms  of  self-movement  are 
identical  with  the  different  types  of  life.  The  lowest  and 
least  complex  of  all  the  forms  is  the  threptic  or  vegetal 
life  manifested  in  the  functions  of  nutrition,  growth,  and 
decay. 

Aristotle  conceived  of  Nature's  processes  as  moving 
without  a  break  in  an  ascending  scale  from  the  inanimate 
world  to  the  most  complex  forms  of  animate  existence.1 
Natura   nihil  facit  per  saltum.     There  is   an  unbroken 

1  Cf.  Hist.  anim.  5886  4  ;  De  part.  anim.  681a  12. 


THE    SOUL    AND    LIFE  xix 

continuity  in  terrestrial  life.  The  initial  form  of  this  is 
found  in  plant-life.  The  plant-organism  is  simpler  than 
any  other,  its  functions  are  confined  to  nutrition  and 
reproduction.  The  function  of  growth  or  vegetation  in 
plants  is  analogous  to  the  nutritive  functions  in  higher 
organisms.  A  process  of  conversion  and  assimilation  is 
carried  on  in  both  cases  and  by  analogous  organs.  Roots 
are  analogous  to  the  mouths  of  animals,1  or,  as  Aristotle 
elsewhere  employs  another  analogy,  they  are  like  umbilical 
veins  that  take  in  nourishment  from  the  earth  as  the 
embryo  is  maintained  by  its  attachment  to  the  uterus.2 
Plants,  furthermore,  as  Aristotle  observed,  exhibit  the 
morphological  tendency  to  develop  their  organs  at  the 
extremities,  while  animals  tend  to  develop  theirs  at  the 
centre.3 

The  transitional  form  of  life  in  proceeding  from  plants 
to  animals,  or  from  phenomena  of  growth  to  phenomena  of 
sensation,  is  found  in  the  Zoophytes.  There  are  some 
marine  animals,  Aristotle  says,4  concerning  which  it  is 
difficult  to  say  whether  they  are  plants  or  animals,  for 
many  of  them  grow  on  rocks  and  die  if  detached.  To 
these  transitional  forms  belong  the  sponges,  holothurians, 
star-fishes,  acalephae  (sea-anemones),  and  sea-lungs.5  All 
of  these  possess  a  low  degree  of  sensation,  and  some  of 
them  are  incapable  of  movement.  Aristotle's  reason  for 
classifying  sponges  amongst   animals  seems  to  have  been 

1  De  an.  4126  3. 

2Cf.  Depart,  anim.  650a  20,  6866  35;  De  gener.  anim.  745623. 

3  Cf.  G.  H.  Lewes,  Aristotle,  pp.  187,  192.  4  Hist.  anim.  5886  12. 

5  Cf.  Ogle,  Aristotle  on  the  Parts  of  Animals,  p.  225. 


y 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

that  they  possess  rudimentary  sensation,1  although  they 
are  incapable  of  locomotion,  and  can  be  regarded  only 
as  belonging  to  the  initial  stage  of  animal  development. 
Nature  completes  the  transition  from  plant  organisms  to 
animals  proper  by  an  increased  or  added  activity  of  the 
soul,  in  which  are  manifested  the  further  phenomena  of 
sensibility,  with  which  desire  is  associated,  and  desire 
demands  locomotion.  An  animal  soul  is  a  more  complex 
and  more  highly  developed  form  of  the  original  life- 
principle. 

While  we  in  modern  times,  in  popular  language  at  least, 
differentiate  the  life  found  in  the  plant-world  from  that 
which  is  found  in  the  animal-world  (though  the  boundary 
between  these  two  is  not  exactly  denned)  by  the  obvious 
distinctions  of  '  vegetable '  and  '  animal '  life,  Aristotle 
regards  them  as  fundamentally  the  same.  He  looks  upon 
the  functions  of  sensation,  locomotion,  and  conceptual 
thought  as  a  higher  development  of  the  vital  principle 
found  in  plants.  We  distinguish  between  sensation  and 
conceptual  thought  without  ascribing  them  to  a  different 

I  mind,  as  Plato  did ;  but  Aristotle  goes  further  and  maintains 
that  not  only  these,  but  also  the  function  of  nutrition,  are 
due  to  the  same  unitary  vital  force.  It  is,  however,  a 
distinctly  marked  stage  that  nature  makes  in  the  develop- 

i  ment  of  the  vital  principle  when  sensation  is  exceeded  and 
rational^ thought  is  reached.  This  new  phenomenon  is 
confined  to  man,  and  is  the  last  stage  in  the  evolution  of 
\fsvxv-  Soul  is,  therefore,  in  the  opinion  of  Aristotle,  the 
unity  in  which  the  principles  of  life,  sense-perception,  and 
1  Hist.  anim.  4876  9. 


THE    SOUL   AND    LIFE  XXI 

thought  are  embraced.  These  taken  together  form  an 
ascending  series  in  which  the  higher  form  always  includes 
and  presupposes  the  forms  below  it.1 

The  function  of  nutrition  furnishes  the  basis  of 
sensation ;  sensation  furnishes  the  basis  of  conceptual 
thought.  The  lower  functions  exist  teleologically  for  the 
higher.  Man,  consequently,  is  the  apex  of  creation, 
because  all  forms  of  life  terminate  in  him  as  the  complete 
development  of  what  is  contained  implicitly  and  im- 
perfectly in  the  lower  organisms.  These  forms  of  life  or 
soul,  as  we  have  enumerated  them,  are  the  following  : 

1.  The  nutritive  or  vegetal  life. 

2.  Perceptive  power  or  the  life  of  sensation. 

3.  Creative  power  or  desire  attended  by  the  capacity 

of  local  movement,  sometimes  called  by  Aristotle 
the  kinetic  soul.2 

4.  The  life  of  intellect  or  reason,  called  the  logistic  or 

dianoetic  soul. 

These,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  are  various  manifestations 
of  a  unitary  life.  The  soul  is  not  divided  into  separate 
faculties  or  parts.  In  every  organism  it  is  a  unit.  In  this  . 
respect  Aristotle  differs  widely  from  Plato.  The  division  (I 
of  the  soul  into  kinds  is  only  a  convenient  abstraction. 
The  soul's  powers  are  not  topographically  separable  as 
in  the  Platonic  psychology.  The  difference  in  kind  is 
merely  a  difference  in  mode  of  operation  and  expression, 
determined  by  the  nature  of  the  materials  with  which  the 

1  De  an.  434a  23  ff.  2De  an.  413a  23,  4136 12—31. 

*Dean.  413627. 


xxn  INTRODUCTION 

soul  is  concerned.  Thought,  growth,  and  decay  are  modes 
of  the  single  life  of  the  organism.  Aristotle,  therefore, 
conceived  his  entire  psychology  under  a  biological  form. 

Everything  that  moves  itself  contains  a  duality  of 
moving  principle  and  thing  moved,  i.e.  a  duality  of  '  form ' 
i  and  c  matter,'  to  use  Aristotle's  metaphysical  terminology. 
Every  living  thing,  a  plant  no  less  than  a  man,  is  a 
composite  being  (cruvoXov),  viz.  a  composite  of  soul  and 
body.  The  soul  is  the  cause  of  motion  and  change,  and 
is  therefore  the  '  efficient  cause ' ;  it  is  further  that  which 
determines  the  form  or  individuality  of  the  organism,  and  is 
therefore  the  '  formal  cause ' ;  it  is  also  the  end  for  which 
the  body  exists,  and  is,  for  this  reason,  the  'final  cause.' 
The  body  is  the  'material  cause'  or  condition  of  the 
composite,  while  the  soul  represents  all  of  the  principles  of 
activity  in  the  organism.  Soul  is  defined  by  Aristotle  as 
the  "entelechy  or  complete  realization  of  a  natural  body 
endowed  with  the  capacity  of  life."  1  The  soul  or  vital 
principle  is  not  itself  corporeal,  although  it  is  inseparable 
from  the  body,  as  form  is  inseparable  from  matter.2  Soul 
and  body  are  not  distinct  things  that  do  or  can  exist  apart. 
Their  separation  is  only  notional.  They  no  more  exist 
apart  than  do  concave  and  convex. 

Soul_is  to  be  found  in  every  part  of  the  body.  This  is 
observable  in  the  case  of  graftings,  where  the  entire  parent 
form  can  be  reproduced  from  a  section.  Insects  live  for 
some  time  after  bisection,  but  they  do  not  continue  to  live 

1  Dean.  412a 20,  412&5. 

2  This  does  not  apply  to  the  Prime  Mover  as  pure  'form.'  The  relation 
of  the  active  reason  to  the  body  is  discussed  below  in  the  chapter  on 
Reason  (chap.  viii.). 


THE    SOUL    AND    LIFE  xxiii 

on  indefinitely,  because  they  lack  organs  for  maintaining 
life.  As  we  go  up  the  scale  of  living  forms,  this  diffusion 
of  soul  throughout  the  body  becomes  less  and  less  marked ; 
the  higher  the  order  of  life  the  greater  the  centralization. 
In  the  case  of  animals,  the  body  consists  generally  of  three 
main  divisions  :  the  head,  thorax,  and  abdomen.  Aristotle 
points  out  *  that  if  a  wasp's  head  is  cut  off,  the  thorax  and 
abdomen  continue  to  live  for  a  time  ;  if  the  abdomen  is  cut 
off,  the  head  and  thorax  continue  to  live.  In  other  words, 
the  part  which  is  conjoined  with  the  thorax  exhibits  this 
continuance  of  vitality.  For  this  reason  it  would  appear 
that  the  anatomical  centre  is  also  the  life-centre.  This 
is,  furthermore,  on  a  priori  grounds  the  best  and 
most  advantageous  position.  It  is  reasonable  to  suppose, 
therefore,  that  nature  in  her  wise  economy  2  has  employed 
this  central  section  as  the  vital  centre. 

This  view,  however,  is  not  merely  derivable  from  rational 
considerations,  but  is  also  supported  by  grounds  of  obser- 
vation. The  life-centre  may  be  localised  not  only  in  the 
thoracic  region,  but  specifically  in  the  heart.  For  this 
statement  Aristotle  adduces  the  following  arguments : 
(1)  disease  of  the  heart  is  the  most  rapidly  and  certainly 
fatal ;  (2)  psychical  affections,  such  as  fear,  sorrow,  and  joy 
cause  an  immediate  disturbance  of  the  heart ;  (3)  the  heart  is 
the  part  which  is  first  formed  in  the  embryo,  and,  as  he 
says  in  the  History  of  Animals?  it  appears  in  the  egg  of  the 
chicken  on  the  third  day  of  incubation  as  a  red  spot  (the 

1  Dejuvent.  468a  21  ;  De  part.  anim.  6676  22  ;  De  respir.  479a  5. 

2  Cf .  Leibniz's  "choix  de  la  Sagesse,"  Princ.  11;  also  N'ouv.  Ess.  II., 
ch.  xxi,  13,  Langley's  translation,  p.  183. 

3  Hist.  anim.  561a  6-12. 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION 

punctum  saliens  of  later  writers)  which  palpitates  and 
whose  movements  are  those  of  an  organism  endowed  with 
life. 

The  heart  is  at  once  the  physiological  and  psychical 
centre  of  man.  In  as  much  as  Aristotle  identifies  life 
with  soul,  it  is  a  matter  of  consistency  for  him  to  place 

I  the  seat  of  the  soul  in  the  vital  centre.  He  rejects  the 
doctrine   of  Plato   and  Diogenes   of    Apollonia,   who    re- 

||  garded  the  brain  as  the  organ  of  mind.  To  Aristotle  the 
brain  is  merely  a  regulator  for  the  temperature  of  the 
heart;  the  brain  is  bloodless  and  cool,  and  the  blood 
and  warm  vapours  from  the  heart  rising  to  this  are 
lowered  in  temperature.  By  this  physiological  device, 
conjoined  with  the  service  of  respiration,  Aristotle  sup- 
poses that  the  system  is  maintained  in  a  heat-equilibrium. 

The  material  element  in  which  the  soul  is  immediately 
incorporated  is  heat  or  fire,  but  the  soul  is  not  identical 
with  this,  as  Democritus  thought.  Nor  is  the  vital  heat 
ordinary  fire,  but  some  subtle  principle  analogous  perhaps, 
as  Ogle  says,1  to  that  imponderable  and  hypothetical 
matter  of  the  physicists  known  as  Ether.  In  accordance 
with  his  theory,  Aristotle  was  naturally  forced  to  attribute 
vital  heat  to  plants  and  the  cold-blooded  animals,  but  his 
grounds  for  this  position  are  not  to  be  found  in  any  of 
the  extant  works.  He  had,  of  course,  no  knowledge  of 
the  chemical  elements  of  oxygen  and  carbon.  The  vital 
caloric  of  the  body  is  kept  up  by  food  which  serves  as 
fuel.  This  heat  which,  according  to  Descartes,  is  produced 
by  fermentation  or,  according  to  Haller,  by  friction  between 

1  Aristotle,  On  Youth  and  Old  Age,  trans,  by  Ogle,  Introd.  p.  9. 


THE    SOUL   AND    LIFE  XXV 

the  blood  particles,  is  being  constantly  generated  and 
constantly  given  off.  To  prevent  an  excessive  production 
of  animal  heat,  the  respiration  of  the  lungs,  along  with 
the  cooling  function  of  the  brain  above  referred  to,  is  the 
most  important  means.  In  the  case  of  fishes  the  same 
thing  is  accomplished  by  bathing  their  gills  in  a  medium 
of  lower  temperature  than  their  bodies. 

As  to  the  cause  of  the  natural  and  normal  extinction 
of  life,  Aristotle  says  it  is  due  to  loss  of  balance  in 
the  production  and  consumption  of  heat.  The  heat  is 
gradually  extinguished  when  the  generation  of  heat,  as 
in  old  age,  is  not  adequate  to  the  demand  of  consumption. 
The  length  of  life  in  any  animal  varies  according  to  its 
material  constitution  and  the  suitability  of  its  physical 
surroundings.  As  a  general  rule,  animals  or  plants  of 
great  bulk x  are  long  lived ;  small  ones  are  short  lived ; 
sanguineous  animals  live  longer  than  those  that  have  no 
blood ;  and  a  long  period  of  gestation  is  usually  correlated 
with  long  life.  The  purpose  of  the  threptic  soul  is  nutri- 
tion and  reproduction.  The  food  which  is  taken  up  into  the 
vegetable  or  animal  organism  and  nourishes  it,  has  its 
end  not  merely  in  the  continuance  of  the  individual's  life, 
but  has  a  higher  end  in  the  formation  of  another  life  of 
like  kind  by  reproduction.  The  function  of  the  individual 
is  not  merely  to  live,  but  to  reproduce  and  so  to  maintain 
life's  continuity. 

1  On  the  longerity  of  animals,  see  translation,  pp.  256-265. 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION 

II. 

The  Faculties  of  the  Soul. 
Plato  conceived  three  psychological  elements — which  cor- 
respond roughly  to  cognition  (vorjriicop), feeling  {eirSv^TiKov), 
and  conation  (Qv[AO€iSe$) — in  terms  of  ethical  value.  Cogni- 
tion has  the  highest  worth,  and  conation  stands  next  in 
rank.  Feeling  has  the  lowest  moral  value.  These  are 
not  faculties  or  Svvajneig  of  the  soul,  but '  parts '  (/mepr]).  They 
consitute  real  entities  in  the  psychophysical  whole,  just 
as  the  three  divisions  of  government  in  the  state  have 
separate  and  real  existence.  The  two  lower  parts,  how- 
ever, have  no  share  in  pre-existence  or  immortality.1  These 
are  never  referred  to  as  powers  or  faculties  (Svvdneis). 

The  term  '  faculty '  is  applied  by  Plato  to  certain  pro- 
cesses of  the  soul  which  are  determined  by  the  object  to 
which  they  are  directed  or  the  results  they  accomplish. 
Sense-perception  (ato-Otians),  opinion  (S6£a),  and  conceptual 
knowledge  (e7rfo-T>//x^)  are  described  by  Plato  as  '  faculties.' 2 
The  faculties  depend  upon  the  reciprocal  relation  between 
subject  and  object.  The  'parts'  of  the  soul  (the  Platonic 
'  parts  '  are  the  historical  predecessors  of  the  post- Platonic 
'faculties'),  on  the  other  hand,  are  entities,  situated  in 
various  regions  of  the  body,  and  denote  certain  qualitatively 
distinct  types  of  psychical  life,  arranged  on  a  scale  of 
ethical  value.  The  seat  of  reason  is  in  the  brain,  the 
topographically  higher  region  being  correlated  with  the 
reason's  higher  worth ;  the  conative  part  is  situated  in  the 

aCf.  Siebeck,  Geschichte  der  Psychologie,  Th.  I.,  Abth.  i.,  p.  203. 
2  Protagoras,  330A. 


THE    FACULTIES    OF   THE    SOUL  XXV11 

thorax,  more  particularly  the  heart,  so  as  to  be  the  con- 
venient ally  of  the  reason  in  the  ethical  regulation  of  the 
individual's  life;1  the  feelings  and  appetites  are  situated 
in  the  abdominal  cavity,  their  upper  boundary  being  the 
diaphragm  and  their  chief  organ  the  liver. 

Plato's  entire  psychology,  in  which  the  soul's  parts 
are  separated  into  existentially  distinct  units  with  distinct 

anatomical    organs,     is     ethico-teleologically.. determined. 

Aristotle's   psychology,   on   the    contrary,    is    biologically 

determined;    the   soul   is    a   unitary  life    functioning in 

distinct  modes  or  faculties.2  It  is  a  single  indivisible  mind 
expressing  itself  in  nutrition,  sense-perception,  imagination, 
memory,  reasoning.3  To  Aristotle  there  is  a  thinking 
substance,  a  'soul/  which  possesses  certain  distinct  capa- 
cities. In  the  term  'faculty'  or  'potentiality'  there  is 
implicit  the  idea  of  latent _or  possible  activity.  Further, 
Suva/Ai?  conveys  the  notion  of  being  native  and  not  acquired 

In  their  action,  manifestation,  or  processes,  the  faculties 
of  Aristotle  are  merely  a  convenient  classification  of 
psychical  phenomena  into  groups.4  They  correspond  to 
the  fundamental  divisions  in  organic  life  —  plant,  brute, 
man.  The  psychological  faculties  or  functions,  therefore, 
represent  the  several  stages  in  the  development  of  the 
forms  of  organic  life.  The  soul  operates  in  every  particular 
organism  under  one  or  other  of  these  forms,  viz.  it  effects 

1  Timaeus,  70A  ff. 
*Dejuvent.  4676  25. 

3  See  the  chapter  on  the  Creative  Reason,  chap.  viii. 

4Cf.  Wundt's  Grundziige  der  pliyaiologischen  Ptycholoyie,  4te  Aufi.  Vol. 
i.,  pp.  10  ff. 


xxvm  INTRODUCTION 

nutrition,  or  it  experiences  sensation,  or  it  causes  loco- 
motion, or  it  thinks,  or  in  the  highest  organism  it  acts 
under  all  four  forms.  Sometimes  Aristotle  speaks  even  of 
five  faculties,  viz.  the  nutritive,  sensitive,  conative,  loco- 
motive, and  rational;1  again  he  speaks  of  four,2  and  at 
other  times  of  only  three,  owing  to  the  identification  of  the 
orectic  and  sensitive  powers.3 

It  is  evident  from  this  that  Aristotle  laid  no  great  weight 
on  any  fixed  enumeration  of  the  faculties,  and  he  expressly 
says  that  from  one  point  of  view  these  '  parts  of  the  soul ' 
appear  to  be  indefinitely  large  in  number.4  If  we  regard  the 
fundamental  aspects,  therefore,  under  which  the  soul  mani- 
fests itself,  Aristotle  defines  it  as  that  principle  by  which 
we  live,  have  sensation,  and  think.5  The  vegetative  or 
threptic  life  is  confined  to  the  phenomena  of  nutrition 
and  reproduction6 ;  sensitive  life  is  confined  to  the  pheno- 
mena of  cognition  when  the  object  is  spatially  and 
temporally  determinate,  i.e.  an  individual  thing;  rational 
'  life  is  concerned  with  phenomena  of  cognition  when  the 
object  is  an  universal  or  an  abstraction.7  The  stages  in  the 
development  of  organic  life  are  differentiated  from  one 
another  in  terms  of  psychical  activity ;  plants  live  and 
reproduce;  the  lower  animals  live,  reproduce,  and  have 
sensation ;  man  lives,  reproduces,  has  sensation,  and  reasons. 
\  Each  higher  stage  includes  within  itself  the  fundamental 
!  functions    of    the    lower     stages.       Aristotle's     view    of 

lDe  an.  41 4a  31.         2  De  an.  4136  12.         3  De  an.  431a  14. 
4  De  an.  432a  24.         5  De  an.  414a  12. 
6De  an.  413a  22  ff.,  415a  25;  De  gener.  anim.  740630. 
7De   an.    4176  22;    Anal.  post.   876  37;    De  insom.   4586 1  ff.  ; 
9996  27  ff. 


NUTRITION   AND    REPRODUCTION  XXIX 

the    physical   world    may   be   presented    schematically   as 
follows : 


I  I 

Organic  world  Inorganic  world 

(tcl  <;ix\pvxa>)  {to.  axf/vxa) 


Vegetable  life  Animal  life 

(Nutrition 

i  "  i 

Lower  animals  Man 


and  reproduction). 


(Nutrition,  reproduction,  (Nutrition,  reproduction, 

and  sensation).  sensation,  noetic  life). 


III. 

Nutrition  and  Reproduction. 

Nutrition  is  the  simplest  form  of  organic  movement. 
Every  living  thing  must  have  the  power  of  nutrition,  for 
organic  development  is  not  possible  without  food.  All 
sensation  and  noetic  activity  presuppose  this  nutritive 
faculty  as  their  basis.  To  use  Aristotle's  phraseology,  those 
organisms  which  assimilate  form  and  matter  at  once  and 
are  incapable  of  assimilating  form  without  matter,  live 
exclusively  a  vegetative  life.  In  other  words,  the  process 
of  vegetal  growth  is  a  physical  process,  i.e.  the  organism 
takes  up  certain  corporeal  substances  into  its  physical 
structure,  and  it  does  so  through  the  agency  of  an  inherent 
psychical  or  vital  principle.1 

In  sensation,  on  the  other  hand,  the  form  of  the  object 
(without  its  matter)  is  taken  up  by  the  agent.  The  signifi- 
cance or  form  of  the  object  is  assimilated  by  sensation  ; 
the  matter  of  the  object  is  assimilated  when  the  nutritive 

1  De  an.  4246  1. 


XXX  INTRODUCTION 

power  appropriates  it.  Indeed,  the  whole  of  the  psychical 
life  is  carried  on  by  means  of  assimilation.  The  threptic 
power  by  the  instrument  of  heat  converts  foreign  substances 
into  forms  similar  to  organic  structures,  and  into  these 
structures  the  substances  are  then  absorbed.  Analogically 
the  data  of  sensation  and  experience  are  assimilated  into 
the  concept,  and  the  qualities  of  things  are  assimilated  into 
the  forms  of  sense-perception.  The  entire  process  of 
psychical  life  is  a  process  of  conversion,  in  which  objects 
are  reduced  to  terms  of  likeness  with  the  subject  or 
agent. 

There  was  a  pre-Aristotelian  controversy  as  to  whether 
nutrition  is  effected  by  the  like  or  the  opposite.1  Aristotle 
says  that  assimilation  implies  indeed  original  opposition, 
but  the  unlike  undergoes  in  digestion  a  process  whereby  it 
is  rendered  like,  and  as  such  is  taken  up  by  the  organism 
as  part  of  its  physical  structure.  In  their  ultimate  phases, 
therefore,  the  like  is  nourished  by  like.  Such  is  Aristotle's 
conclusion  on  this  academic  question  of  the  Early  Greek 
schools,  a  discussion  which  had  concerned  itself  mainly 
with  Epistemology,  i.e.  with  the  question  whether  the  per- 
ception of  a  quality  is  due  to  the  possession  of  a  like  or  an 
opposite  quality  in  the  agent. 

Food  after  it  has  been  concocted  and  assimilated  becomes 
the  means  (1)  of  nourishment,  (2)  of  growth,  (3)  of 
reproduction.  It  nourishes  in  so  far  as  it  sustains  the  life 
of  an  individual  and  enables  it  to  persist ;  it  causes  growth 
in    so    far    as    it    acts    quantitatively    and    enables  the 

1  De  an.  416a  25  ;  cf.  also  on  the  Empedoclean  and  Anaxagorean  theories 
of  sensation,  translation,  pp.  35,  150,  166. 


NUTRITION   AND   REPRODUCTION  xxxi 

individual  to  attain  its  normal  mass  in  development;1  it 
makes  reproduction  possible  by  conversion  of  a  part  of 
the  food  into  seminal  matter.2  One  must  observe  three 
main  facts  in  nutrition,  viz.  the  cause,  the  object,  and  the 
means.  The  cause  is  the  elemental  soul  or  threptic  energy ; 
the  object  is  the  body  animated  by  the  soul ;  the  means  is 
the  food.  Food,  however,  can  maintain  the  life  of  an 
individual  only  for  a  limited  time.  The  continuity  of 
life  is  accordingly  provided  for  by  the  deposit  of  semen, 
which  contains  potentially  all  the  elements  of  the  organism  ; 
thereby  the  propagation  of  a  life  similar  to  that  of  the 
parent  is  secured.3  This  is  the  highest  and  most  important 
service  of  the  threptic  power,  because  it  gives  to  perishable 
creatures  an  approximate  immortality  by  perpetuating  the 
species,  and  this  is  what  every  creature  instinctively  aims 
at.  It  is  the  final  cause  of  every  creature's  natural  life.4 
All  of  nature's  activity  is  purposive.  Food  is  utilized  for 
specific  ends  and  in  specific  ways.  No  single  substance  is 
adequate  for  the  nourishment  of  a  physically  complex  body, 
and  every  organic  body  is  complex.  Even  the  lowest 
organisms,  plants,  employ  various  substances  for  their 
nutrition.  Food,  in  as  much  as  it  is  the  material  for  the 
formation  of  body,  must  contain  all  the  body's  substances. 
Food,  must  consequently,  be  multiform.  There  is,  however, 
one  element  in  food  which  is  more  nutritive  than  any  other, 
viz.  the  sweet.  It  is  this  element  in  edible  things  that  is 
mainly  causative  of  growth,  and  Aristotle  makes  a  curious 

1  De  an.  416&  10  ff.  2  De  gener.  anim.  725a  15  ff. 

3  Cf.  Aristotle,  On  the  Parts  of  Animals,  tr.  by  Ogle,  pp.  239,  240. 
4Z>e  an.  415  a  29. 


xxxil  INTRODUCTION 

use  of  this  element  to  explain  the  relative  longevity  of 
bees.1     Fat  is  to  be  classified  amongst  sweet  substances. 

Food  undergoes  no  process  in  the  mouth  beyond  that 
of  mastication.2  Aristotle  knew  nothing  of  salivary  glands, 
yet  mastication,  though  not  itself  a  digestive  process,  is  a 
necessary  preliminary  to  digestion.  From  the  organ  of 
seizure  and  mastication  the  food  passes  to  the  stomach, 
where  it  undergoes  what  Aristotle  calls  concoction.  This 
is  accomplished  by  animal  or  psychical  heat,  a  form  of  heat 
which  in  its  vivifying  power  differs  from  ordinary  heat 
and  is  supplied  mainly  from  the  spleen  and  liver.  The 
solid  and  indigestible  portions  pass  off  by  the  lower  bowel, 
while  the  fluid  portion,3  which  alone  is  employed  in 
nutrition,  is  absorbed  by  the  blood-vessels  and  intestines. 
The  stomach  and  intestines  are  to  animal  organisms  what 
the  ground  is  to  plants ; 4  the  roots  as  channels  of  nourish- 
ment for  the  plant  correspond  to  the  blood-vessels  in  the 
animal.  The  veins  have  exceedingly  fine  invisible  open- 
ings such  as  the  pores  in  unglazed  pottery,  and  these 
minute  openings  permit  the  nutritive  fluid  to  ooze  through 
into  them,  and  by  them  it  is  carried  from  the  mesentery  to 
the  heart.  Their  content  is  not  yet  blood,  it  is  an  in- 
completely prepared  serum  (txcop)-5  In  the  heart,  the 
warmest  organ  of  the  body,  to  which  this  serum  is  now 
immediately  carried  from  the  mesentery  by  the  veins,  it  is 
re-concocted  and  converted  into  blood.     It  is  then  ready  for 

1  De  long,  et  brev.  vit.  467a  4. 

2  De  part.  anim.  650a  10  ff. 

3  De  somno,  456a  30  ff. ;  De  part.  anim.  6516  5  ff. ;  De  gener.  anim.  7266  2. 

4  De  part.  anim.  678a  7  ff. 

5  Hist.  anim.  521a  12 ff.,  52162;  Depart,  anim.  651a  18. 


NUTRITION   AND    REPRODUCTION  XXXlll 

assimilation  into  the  organs,  for  building  up  their  waste, 
and  for  adding  to  their  growth.  The  amount  of  blood 
thus  generated  is  very  small  in  proportion  to  the  materials 
consumed,  otherwise  the  body  would  grow  to  enormous 
bulk.  The  blood  in  its  final  state  of  concoction  is  carried 
by  the  arteries  and  veins  from  the  heart  to  all  parts  of  the 
body.  Each  organ  assimilates  such  elements  as  are 
adapted  to  its  growth.  The  process  of  nutrition  goes  on 
most  actively  during  sleep.1  Such  parts  of  the  blood  as 
cannot  be  utilized  in  organic  anabolism  are  excreted  in  the 
form  of  sweat,  bile,  and  nature's  various  means  of  relief 
through  waste,  while  surplus  nutritious  matter  takes  the 
form  of  excess  fat,  seminal  deposit,  nails,  hair,2  and  other 
masses  whose  quantitative  permanence  is  unnecessary  for 
the  maintenance  of  life. 

The  two  fundamental  concepts  with  which  Aristotle's 
entire  philosophy  operates,  viz.  form  and  matter,  or 
actuality  and  potentiality,  are  derived  from  his  observation 
of  organic  life.  Potential  matter  in  the  organic  world  is 
being  constantly  transformed  by  an  inherent  life-movement 
into  significant  structures,  and  a  formative  or  psychical 
principle  is  constantly  active  in  converting  passive  matter 
to  definite  ends.  Without  the  soul  the  body  is  motionless, 
and  the  organs  of  the  body  are  organs  only  homonymously3 
— a  dead  hand  is  only  the  homonym  of  a  hand,  it  has  the 
name  of  a  hand  without  its  significance  or  function.  All 
life    (not    only    what    is    modernly   understood    by   vital 

1  De  somno,  455a  1. 

2  Cf.  Aristotle,  On  the  Parts  of  Animals,  tr.  by  Ogle,  p.  202. 
De  gener.  anim.  735a  8  ;  De  an.  4126  14,  21. 

C 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

phenomena,  but  all  rational  life)  is  a  form  of  motion,  of 
which  there  are  several  varieties  :  yevecris,  augrjcris,  clWolwo-is, 
<j>opa.  The  most  elementary  form  of  organic  movement  is, 
as  has  been  said,  growth  (augricris).1  The  soul  is  in  every 
part  of  the  body,  and,  although  not  itself  corporal,  it  is 
inseparable  from  the  body.  This  diffusion  of  soul  is  more 
apparent  the  lower  we  go  in  the  scale  of  animate  exist- 
ence.2 Organic  centralization  increases  in  direct  ratio  with 
the  complexity  of  the  organism,  but  even  in  the  lowest 
forms  of  animal  life  there  is  a  certain  degree  of  centraliza- 
tion, lowest  of  all  in  the  plants.  The  only  form  of  life 
which  is  separable  from  the  body  is  that  of  the  active 
reason,  and  even  this,  so  far  as  its  real  content  is  concerned, 
is  an  '  entelechy  of  the  body.' 

Heat  is  the  soul's  material  substrate,  in  which  the  soul  is 
immediately  incarnate.  The  soul  is  not  itself  heat.  "  Birth 
is  the  original  suffusion  of  the  nutritive  soul  with  heat, 
and  life  is  the  maintenance  of  this  heat."  3  The  manner  in 
which  this  heat  is  maintained  by  the  fuel  of  food  through 
concoction  has  been  already  described.  Not  only  must  the 
body  have  this  heat  in  order  to  live,  but  the  heat  must  be 
regulated  and  kept  within  normal  limits.  There  must  be  some 
physiological  provision  for  the  reduction  of  temperature  ; 
otherwise  the  fuel  in  the  stomach  would  constantly  generate 
heat  to  excess,  especially  during  the  process  of  digestion. 
Mechanism   for   reducing   temperature  in    the    pulmonate 

1  Phys.  260a  25  ff. 

2 Dean.  4116  20,  4136  20. 

3  De  respir.  479a  29.  Birth  or  genesis  means  for  Aristotle  not  the 
separation  of  the  young  from  the  mother's  body,  but  the  process  of 
fecundation. 


SENSATION  xxxv 

animals  is  furnished  by  the  lungs  1  and  brain,  in  aquatic 
animals  by  the  gills.  Death  comes  to  all  organisms  when 
the  supply  of  vital  heat  fails ;  the  organs  of  nutrition  and 
respiration  become  through  lapse  of  time  incapable  of 
supplying  and  regulating  this  heat,  it  being  both  inade- 
quately generated  and  inadequately  controlled,  and  so 
"  the  fire  of  life  is  snuffed  out." 2  When  the  basal  psychical 
function  ceases,  the  higher  life  of  mind  is  no  longer  possible, 
for  the  soul  is  not  divided  into  parts,  but  is  an  unit. 


IV. 

Sensation. 
The  immediate  instruments  for  the  apprehension  and  in- 
terpretation of  the  external  world  are  the  peripheral  sense- 
organs.  Sensation,  which  marks  the  boundary  between  the 
animal  and  plant  worlds,  is  explained  by  Aristotle  as  a 
form  of  motion,  viz.  a  qualitative  change  3  (aWotaxri?)  in  a 
sense-organ.  The  sense-process  and  the  sense-object  are 
one  in  the  actual  sensation.  Sound  and  hearing,  for 
example,  although  notionally  distinct,  are  identical  in  the 
act  of  sensation.4    The  sense-organ  is  potentially  what  the 

1The  organs  known  to  us  as  'lungs'  were  regarded  by  Aristotle  as  the 
right  and  left  halves  of  an  azygous  organ.  Consequently  he  always  speaks 
of  '  lung '  in  the  singular.  He  found  the  organ  to  be  actually  single  in 
certain  snakes  (Hist.  anim.  508a  28  ff.),  and  when  it  is  double  the  two 
divisions  have  a  common  outlet  in  the  trachea.  I  have,  however,  in  con- 
formity with  the  demands  of  English  speech,  translated  his  singular  by  a 
plural.     See  the  translation,  pp.  286  ff. 

2Derespir.  479a  18. 

zDe  somno,  4596  4  ;  Phys.  247a  7  ;  De  an.  4156  24. 

4  De  an.  424a  25   4256  26,  418a  1. 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

sense-object  is  actually.  To  make  a  further  use  of  Aristotle's 
terminology,  the  organ  assimilates  the  significance  or  form 
of  a  thing  without  its  matter.1  Life  rises  above  the  uncon- 
scious process  of  nutrition,  when  in  sensation  the  external 
world  is  transformed  into  a  conscious  world,  a  world  of 
meaning.  The  sense  receives  an  impression  or  picture  of  an 
object,  as  wax  receives  an  impression  of  a  seal-ring  without 
the  bronze  or  gold  of  the  ring.2  The  sense  is  thus,  in  a  way, 
identical  with  the  object ;  it  differs  from  the  object,  how- 
ever, in  its  mode  of  being.  The  sense  apprehends  a  quali- 
tative element  belonging  to  an  individual,3  but  not  the 
individual  as  such. 

Sensation  is  a  process  that  belongs  to  both  soul  and 
body.4  The  sensation  itself  is  psychical,  but  its  instrument 
is  physical.  The  eye  and  vision  are  related  to  each  other 
as  matter  and  form.5  Vision  consists  in  a  certain  relation- 
ship or  condition  of  harmony.  Excessive  stimuli  destroy 
this  harmony,  just  as  the  harmony  of  strings  is  destroyed 
by  striking  them  violently.6 

Without  contact  there  can  be  no  action  of  one  thing 
upon  another.  This  law,  which  applies  to  the  whole  of 
nature,  necessitates  the  assumption  of  a  continuous  medium 
from  object  to  subject,  for  there  must  be  some  sort  of 
contact  if  the  object  of  sense  is  to  affect  a  sense-organ.  A 
medium  is  further  necessary  because  no  sensation  results 

1  De  an.  424a  27,  426a  26,  4316  26. 
2De  an.  424a  19  ff.  ;  De  mem.  450a  30. 

3  Anal.  post.  876  28,  100a  16  ff.  ;  De  an.  424a 21  ff. 

4  De  somno,  457a  7  ;  De  sensu,  436a  6  ;  De  an.  402a  4  ff. 
*  Dean.  4126  18  ff. 

b  De  an.  424  a  32. 


SENSATION  XXXV11 

when  organ  and  object  are  in  immediate  contact.1  The 
intervening  medium,  however,  is  in  contact  with  both 
organ  and  object  and  transmits  a  stimulus  from  the  latter 
to  the  former,  without  which  no  sensation  would  result. 
The  medium  is  different  in  different  senses. 

In  considering  the  subject  of  sensation  it  is  necessary  to 
observe,  in  addition  to  the  faculty  itself,  three  conditioning 
factors :  (1)  the  organ,  (2)  the  object,  (3)  the  medium. 
There  are  five  senses,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  third 
book  of  the  De  anima  2  Aristotle  attempts  to  prove  that 
this  enumeration  is  exhaustive. 

1.  Sight. 

The  sense  of  sight  is  the  most  important  for  life,3 
although  hearing  has  a  higher  significance  for  purely 
intellectual  life,  because  of  the  meaning  conveyed  by  the 
spoken  word. 

a.  The  Organ  of  Sight — The  psychologists  preceding 
Aristotle  and  contemporary  with  him  regarded  the  sense- 
organs  as  composed  severally  of  the  elements,  but  as  there 
were  for  the  pre-Socraties  only  four  elements  (fire,  earth, 
air,  and  water),  whereas  there  were  five  senses,  they  were 
in  straits  about  a  fifth  element  with  which  to  pair  a  fifth 
sense.4  Further,  they  differed  in  the  elements  assigned  to 
the  several  sense-organs.  Plato,  e.g.,  coupled  vision  with 
fire,  whereas  Democritus  coupled  it  with  water.     Aristotle, 

1  De  an.  4216  17,  4236  20;  De  gener.  et  corr.  322622  ;  Phys.  245a  4. 

2  De  an.  4246  22  ff;  cf.  also  Hist.  anim.  532629. 

3  Metaph.  980a  21  ;  De  sensu,  437a  5  ff. 

4  Desensu,  ma  19  ff. 


xxxvill  INTRODUCTION 

likewise,   regards   the   sense-organs   as   composed     of   the 

elements,  and  as  to  the  constitution  of  the  eye  he  agrees 

with  Democritus.     The  eye's  power  of  vision  is  due  to  the 

element  of  water   in  it,  the  organ   being   in   constitution 

analogous  to  the  medium  through  which  its  stimulus  is 

transmitted,  i.e.  a  translucent  medium.1     Hearing  is  due  to 

the  air  immured  in  the  inner  ear.     Smell  is  correlated  with 

one  or  both  of  the  foregoing  elements  (air  and  water),  and 

touch  and  taste  are   correlated,  perhaps,  in  some  special 

manner  with  earth.     The   sense-organs   are  thus  coupled 

with  their  media  and  not  with  their  objects.2     The  real 

organ  of  vision  is  the  pupil  {Koprj)?  which  is  within  the  eye 

and  is  composed  of  the  element  of  water,  and  the  best  eye 

is  the  one  whose  proportion  of  water  is  best  adjusted.4     In 

order   that   light    may   penetrate    to    the   interior,    it    is 

necessary  that  the  eye  be  translucent,  and  water,  because 

it  is  more  easily  fixed  and  kept  in  place,  is  better  adapted 

to  this  purpose  than  air  would  be.5     The  water  of  which 

the  pupil  is  composed  is  derived  from  the  brain.6     Aristotle 

1  De  an,  4246  28 ff.;  De  sensu,  4386  3ff.;  Depart,  anim.  647a  2 ff. 

2  The  account  of  the  sense-organs  given  in  the  Parva  Naturalia  [De 
sensu,  4386  3  ff.)  differs  somewhat  from  this  {e.g.  smell  is  correlated  with 
fire).  The  discrepancy  is  to  be  explained  (cf.  translation,  pp.  96,  150)  by 
the  fact  that  in  the  Parva  Naturalia  Aristotle  is  reporting  current  opinions 
(evidently  so  in  his  description  of  smell  as  a  smoke-like  exhalation),  or  it 
may  be  accounted  for  by  the  theory  (held  by  Torstrik,  but  impossible  to 
establish)  that  the  De  sensu  is  an  earlier  treatise  than  the  De  anima. 

3  De  part.  anim.  653625;  Hist.  anim.  4916  21;  De  sensu,  438a  16 ;  De 
an.  425a  4. 

4  De  gener.  anim.  780a  22  ;  De  sensu,  4386  5  ff. 

5  De  sensu,  438a  1  Off.  Cf.  Theophrastus,  De  sensu,  39.  Diogenes  of 
Apollonia  believed  air  to  be  the  essential  element  in  the  composition  of  all 
the  senses. 

6  Hist.  anim.  492a  21,  495a  11  ff. 


SENSATION  xxxix 

speaks  of  three  conduits  or  iropoi  leading  from  the  eye  to 
the  brain,  which  may  refer  to  the  ramus  ophthalmicus, 
opticus,  and  oculomotorius,  although  he  did  not,  of  course, 
regard  these  as  nerves,  of  the  function  of  which  he  had  no 
knowledge  whatever.  The  optic  nerve  he  recognized  as  a 
duct,  and  noted  the  fact  that  the  eye  of  the  chameleon  is 
continuous  with  the  brain.1  The  term  -n-opog  is,  indeed, 
used  later  on  to  mean  nerve.2  The  connection,  however, 
here  referred  to  by  Aristotle  is  not  a  connection  between 
peripheral  and  central  organ.  The  duct  between  eye  and 
brain  serves  only  physiological  purposes,  and  the  connec- 
tion is,  strictly  speaking,  not  with  the  brain  at  all,  but  only 
with  the  empty  occiput  and  the  vascular  membrane 
surrounding  the  brain.3  The  brain,  as  has  been  pointed 
out,  is  not  the  central  sense-organ.  The  peripheral  organs 
of  sight  and  hearing  are  not  only  connected  with  the 
vascular  membrane  of  the  brain,  but  they  are  also  con- 
nected with  the  heart,4  which  is  the  sensory  centre  as  it  is 
also  the  vascular  centre.  Because  the  eye  is  connected 
with  the  brain  and  derives  its  water  from  that  source,  it  is 
moist  and  cold  like  the  brain.5  Its  power  of  vision  is  due 
to  the  translucence  of  its  composition.6 

b.  The  Object  of  Sight. — The  object  of  vision  is  the  visible7 

1  Hist.  anim.  492a,  21,  495a  11  ff.;  De  gener.  anim.  7436  35. 

2  Galen,  De  usu  part.  in.  12,  quoted  by  Ogle,  Aristotle  On  the  Parts  of 
Animals,  p.  176,  note  19. 

3  De  part.  anim.  6566  16. 

4  Hist.  anim.  495a  4,  514a  18  ff.;  De  sensu,  439a 2,  444a  10  ;  Depart, 
anim.  6526  16,  6566  24;  De  juvent.  469a  10  ff.;  De  gener.  anim.  7436  25, 
781a  20. 

5  De  gener.  anim.  744  a  5  ff.  6  De  sensu,  438  a  12. 
7De  an.  418a  26,  422a  20,  424a  10. 


xl  INTRODUCTION 

and  the  invisible, for  opposites  are  subject-matter  of  the  same 
faculty  of  perception  and  of  the  same  science.1  The  visible 
includes  colour  and  certain  phenomena  which  Aristotle 
calls  anonymous,  whose  characteristic  is  brightness.2  Colour 
is  a  qualitative  accident  that  has  the  power  of  exciting  or 
moving  a  diaphanous  medium.3  Vision  consists  neither  in 
an  efflux  from  the  visible  nor  in  an  image  thrown  off  by  the 
visible,  as  the  Atomists  and  Empedocles4  supposed,  but  in 
the  excitation  of  a  translucent  medium  by  means  of  colour 
and  in  a  qualitative  stimulation  of  the  organ  of  vision  by 
means  of  the  medium  so  affected.  The  diaphanous  medi- 
ates colour,  and  light  is  that  which  converts  the  poten- 
tially diaphanous  into  the  actually  diaphanous.  Colour 
sets  the  actually  diaphanous  in  motion  and  is  mediated  in 
the  form  of  motion  from  a  remote  object  to  the  sense- 
organ.  The  diaphanous  is  not  itself  visible,  but  the  colour 
with  which  it  is  charged  is  visible.  The  actuality  of  the 
diaphanous  is  light.5  The  diaphanous  as  such  is  colour- 
less,6 but  has  the  capacity  of  being  illuminated  and  charged 
with  colour.  The  colour  constitutes  its  light  in  an  acci- 
dental sense,7  i.e.  light  is  no  particular  colour.  Light  is 
not  somatic  nor  the  efflux  of  any  body ;  it  is  not  fire,8  but 
depends  on  the  presence  of  fire,9  or  is  a  subtle  species 
of  fire.  As  the  diaphanous  is  actually  translucent 
only  in  light,  so  colour  is  visible  only  in  light.  Fire, 
on    the    other    hand,    is    visible    in    both    darkness    and 

1Dean.  411a  3;   Top.  1056  5;  Metaph.  1061a  18. 

2 Dean.  418a 27. 

3  Top.   1036  31 ;  Categ.  969 ;  De  an.  4186  1,  419a  10. 

4De  sensu,  438a  2.    5  De  an.  4186  9,  419a  11.     6  De  an.  4186  28. 

1  De  sensu,  439a  18.        *  De  an.  4186  14.      9  Top.   134628. 


SENSATION  xli 

light,1  for  it  creates  for  itself  a  translucent  medium  by 
diffusing  light.  Colour,  then,  is  a  condition  belonging  to 
light,  as  light  is  a  condition  attaching  to  the  diaphanous. 
The  diaphanous  belongs  to  water  and  air,  the  media  of 
vision,  and  to  some  extent  to  other  bodies,2  but  has  no 
independent  existence.  It  is  not  a  substance.  Colour  is 
further  defined  by  Aristotle  as  a  quality  of  the  superficies 
of  a  body  in  a  diaphanous  medium.  So  the  Pythagoreans 
called  colour  a  visible  superficies.  There  are  seven  primary 
colours  derivable  from  the  basal  colours,  white  and  black.3 
They  are :  white,  black,  yellow,  violet,  green,  and  blue.  The 
other  sort  of  '  visible,'  called  by  Aristotle  '  anonymous,' 
consists  in  brightness  produced  by  a  smooth,  polished 
surface,  such  as  is  found  in  certain  fish-heads,  scales, 
eyes,  and  phosphorescent  substances.4  This  is  not  properly 
colour,  but  a  fiery  phenomenon  which  has  the  power  of 
diffusing  light  and  creating  visibility. 

c.  The  Medium  of  Sight. — The  medium  of  sight  is  the 
diaphanous,  viz.  air  and  water  and  certain  other  translucent 
bodies.5  They  are  the  media  by  virtue  of  their  trans- 
parency, which  belongs  to  them  not  as  air  or  water,  but 
because  they  possess  something  in  common  with  the  eternal 
empyrean.6  The  medium  itself  is  neutral  and  colourless, 
being  thus  adapted  to  saturation  with  and  transmission  of 
any  colour.  Aristotle  rejects  the  emanation  theory  of 
colour,  and  resolves  it  into  a  form  of  movement  of  a 
medium,   approximating    herein    more    closely    than    his 

1  De  an.  4186  2,  419a  23.  2  De  sensu,  439a  20  ff. 

3  De  sensu,  4396 20 ff.,  442a  19  ;  cf.  also  translation,  p.  87,  note  2. 

4  De  an.  419a  Iff.;  De  sensu,  4376  5.  5  De  an.  4186  6. 
6De  an.  4186  7  ;  De  sensu,  438a  12. 


xlii  INTRODUCTION 

predecessors  to  the  modern  hypothesis  of  ether  vibrations. 
Colour  excites  the  pellucid  element,  which  then  transmits 
the  colour-motion  from  the  object  to  the  sense-organ.  This 
movement  does  not,  however,  consist  in  an  undulatory 
process,  but  in  a  qualitative  change,  whose  spatial  propaga- 
tion is  not  discernible,1  and  which  appears  to  be  instan- 
taneously complete. 

2.  Hearing. 

a.  The  Organ  of  Hearing. — As  the  real  organ  of  vision  is 
composed  of  water,  similarly  the  real  organ  of  hearing 
consists  of  air.2  Air  is  immured  in  the  inner  ear  and  is 
immovable  there,  i.e.  it  cannot  be  dispersed.  This  fact 
enables  it  to  detect  all  distinctions  in  communicated 
motions.  We  hear  in  water,  because  it  cannot  penetrate 
to  the  congenital  air,3  but  we  hear  through  water  as  through 
any  other  foreign  body.  Aristotle  ascribes  hearing  to  fishes, 
but  nowhere  explains  how  they  hear,  although  in  the 
History  of  Animals  he  devotes  several  paragraphs  to  the 
subject  of  sensation  in  the  lower  animals.4  The  congenital 
air  has  its  own  internal  movements,  which  account  for 
certain  phenomena  of  sound,  such  as  the  hearing  of  sound 
when  there  is  no  external  stimulus.5  A  duct  or  channel 
leads  from  the  ear  to  the  rear  of  the  brain,  the  occiput, 
which  Aristotle  supposed  to  be  hollow  and  filled  with  air. 
This  7ro/oo?  is  perhaps  the  external  and  internal  meatus,  or 

1  De  sensu,  4466  20  ff.,  4386  3  ff. 

2  Be  part.  anim.  656616  ;  De  an.  4196  34,  425a  4. 
3De  an.  4196  18,  420a  11  ;  De  gener.  anim.  781a  23. 

4 Hist.  anim.  5326  30  ff.,  5336  1  ff.  5  De  an.  420a  17. 


SENSATION  xliii 

possibly  he  considered  the  communication  to  be  established 
by  the  Eustachian  tube,  which  was  known  to  him.1 

b.  The  Object  of  Hearing. — The  object  of  hearing  is 
sound.2  Sound  is  produced  by  the  concussion  of  two  hard, 
smooth  bodies,  especially  hollow  bodies,  in  a  medium.3  Air 
or  water  may  serve  as  a  resisting  body  and  emit  sound, 
when  either  is  so  quickly  and  violently  struck  as  to  pre- 
vent its  (air's  or  water's)  gradual  and  noiseless  disper- 
sion.4 Each  of  these  acts  then  in  the  same  way  as  a  hard 
body,  and  the  adjacent  water  or  air  serves  as  a  medium  for 
the  communication  of  the  sound.  The  qualities  of  sound 
are  given  in  terms  of  pitch,  the  extremes  of  which  are  high 
and  low,  or  acute  and  grave.5  The  high  or  acute  is  due  to 
a  swift  motion,  and  the  low  or  grave  is  due  to  a  slow 
motion.  Mere  sound  is  noise.  Voice  is  significant  sound, 
produced  by  an  animal,  and  accompanied  by  a  mental 
image.6 

c.  The  Medium  of  Hearing. — The  medium  of  hearing  as 
of  sight  is  air  or  water.7  These  two  media  are  in  their  own 
nature  both  colourless  and  soundless,  but  capable  of  trans- 
mitting colour  and  sound  to  sense-organs.  The  spatial 
propagation  of  sound  is  not  instantaneous,  but  is  discernible 
in  time,  as  one  can  learn  from  the  blow  of  an  axe  seen  in  the 
distance,  the  sound  of  which  is  perceived  at  an  interval  later.8 
For  the  transmission  of  sound  the  air  must  form  an  un- 
interrupted  continuum    from    stimulus    to    organ.9      The 

1  Hist.  anim.  491a  30,  492a  20;  De  part.  anim.  656a  18;  De  gener.  anim. 
781a 31.  2De  an.  418a  11  ;  De  insom.  45866. 

sDe  an.  4196  6  ff.,  4206  14  ;  De  sensu,  446630  ;  De  coelo,  291a  1  ff. 
4  De  an.  420a  7.  5  De  an.  420a  28.  6  De  an.  4206  25  ff. 

'  De  an.  4196  18.  8  De  sensu,  446a  24  ff.  9  De  an.  420a  3. 


xliv  INTRODUCTION 

stimulus  must  not  be  too  slight,  otherwise  it  is  not  trans- 
mitted, nor  too  excessive,  otherwise  it  disturbs  the  function 
of  the  organ.1  Sensation  demands  a  kind  of  proportion 
between  stimulus  and  organ,  from  which  there  issues  a 
normal  organic  process. 

3.  Smell. 

a.  The  Organ  of  Smell. — The  organ  of  smell  is  composed 
of  air  or  water,2  of  the  former  in  the  case  of  respiring 
animals,  and  of  the  latter  in  the  case  of  aquatic  animals. 
In  respiring  animals  the  organ  of  smell  has  a  covering, 
which  is  lifted  in  inspiration  and  is  analogous  to  an  eyelid ; 
without  inspiring,  smell  is  not  sensed  by  them.3  In  aquatic 
animals  this  covering  is  lacking,  as  the  analogous  eyelid  is 
lacking  in  hard-eyed  animals.4  The  nostrils,  or  physiological 
organs  of  smell,  are  passages  for  inhalation  and  exhalation, 
and  are  very  mobile ;  whereas  in  the  case  of  the  ear,  man 
has  no  muscular  control  of  it,  as  most  of  the  lower 
animals  have.5 

b.  The  Object  of  Smell. — The  object  of  smell  is  the  odorous 
and  its  opposite.6  Smell  is  very  poorly  developed  in  man, 
being  inferior  in  accuracy  to  that  of  many  of  the  lower 
animals.7  It  is  difficult  to  determine  the  essential  qualities 
of  smell,  because  of  this  imperfect  development  in  man,  and 
because  smells  are  confused  with  the  pleasant  and  un- 
pleasant.8    Smell  is  intimately  connected  with   the  sense 

1  De  an.  420a  24,  421  6  9,  422a  26,  426a  28  ff.  2  De  an.  425a  5. 

3  De  an.  4216  14,  422a  1  ;  De  sensu,  4446  22.  4  De  sensu,  443a  3. 

5  Hist.  anim.  492a  28,  492615. 

6De  an.  4216  3ff. ;  De  sensu,  U4cb  20  ff. 

7  De  sensu,  441a  1  ;  De  an.  421a  10.  8  De  an.  421a  12. 


SENSATION  xlv 

of  taste,1  and  many  smells  are  described  in  terms  of  analo- 
gous flavours, — e.g.  smells  are  called  sweet,  piquant,  oily, 
harsh,  pungent,  terms  that  belong  properly  to  taste.  It  is 
not,  however,  to  be  assumed  that  because  a  given  thing  has 
a  sweet  flavour  it  will  also  have  a  sweet  smell.  On  the 
contrary,  sweet-smelling  objects  often  have  an  unpleasant 
taste  and  conversely.  The  object  of  smell  is  described  as  a 
property  of  the  dry,  while  flavour  is  the  sapid-moist.2 
That  the  dry  property  is  not  a  smoke-like  exhalation,  as 
certain  pre-Aristotelians  held,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
aquatic  animals  are  endowed  with  smell,  and  a  smoke-like 
exhalation  could  not  be  transmitted  in  water.3  Besides, 
this  would  resolve  the  odorous  into  a  physical  efflux,  an 
explanation  of  sensation  in  general  which  Aristotle  rejects.4 
The  odorous  consists  in  the  saturation  of  a  medium  (air  or 
water)  with  a  sapid  dry  element.5 

Although  the  sense  of  smell  is  poorly  developed  in  man, 
he  is  the  only  animal  that  is  capable  of  perceiving  smell  as 
fragrance,  i.e.  in  an  aesthetic  way.6  The  lower  animals  have 
no  appreciation  of  malodour  as  such. 

c.  The  Medium  of  Smell. — The  medium  of  smell  is  air 
or  water.7  Water  mediates  smell  for  the  aquatic  animals.8 
Man,  however,  and  all  respiring  animals  whose  sense  of 
smell  is  dependent  on  inspiration,  cannot  smell  in  water.9 
Although  the  media  of  smell  are  the  same  as  the  media  of 

1  De  sensu,  4406  28,  4436  8  ;   De  an.  421a  17. 

2  De  an.  422a  4  ff.  sDe  sensu,  4386  23,  443a  20  ff. 
4  De  sensu,  4436  2.                                    5  De  sensu,  443a  3  ff. 

6  De  sensu,  4436  27  ff. ,  445a  1.  7  De  an.  419a  28  ff. ,  422a  2. 

8  De  sensu,  443a  1  ff,  4446  5  ff;  De  an.  419a  35,  4216  10. 

9  De  an.  422a  2  ;  De  sensu,  4Mb  10  ff. 


xlvi  INTRODUCTION 

sight,  viz.  air  and  water,  these  are  media  for  sight  by 
virtue  of  their  translucence,  and  for  smell  by  virtue  of  their 
capacity  to  exude  dry  savour.  By  the  peripatetic  Theo- 
phrastus  they  are  called  transolent  (Slocr/ma).1 

4.  Taste. 

a.  The  Organ  of  Taste. — Aristotle's  view  regarding  the 
organ  of  taste  is  difficult  to  determine.  He  maintains  the 
doctrine  that  all  the  senses  function  by  means  of  a  medium, 
and  that  sensation  does  not  take  place  when  the  sense- 
object  and  sense-organ  are  in  immediate  contact.2  In 
accordance  with  this  doctrine  he  says  the  tongue  is  not  the 
organ  but  the  medium  of  taste,  and  yet  he  sometimes 
speaks  in  a  popular  way  of  the  tongue  as  the  organ  of 
taste.3  Strictly  speaking,  the  organ  of  taste  is  something 
more  internal.4  The  organ  proper  is  within  the  flesh  and 
is  fitted  with  a  conductor  to  the  central  organ  or  sensorium 
(i.e.  the  heart).5  It  is  even  possible  that  Aristotle  regards 
the  heart  as  the  organ  of  taste  and  the  tongue  as  at  once 
the  medium  and  ancillary  organ.6  It  would  seem,  how- 
ever, from  his  general  account  of  the  senses  that  they  all 
have  a  medium,  and  that  all  of  them  have  conduits  from 
the  peripheral  organ  to  the  sensory  centre.7 

b.  The  Object  of  Taste. — The  object  of   taste  is  at  once 

1  Cf.  translation,  p.  75,  note  1.  2  Cf .  translation,  p.  73,  note  2. 

3  De  part.  anim.  647a  19,  6536  23  ff.;  Hist.  anim.  533a  26;  De  an. 
4225  2  ff. 

4  De  an.  423a  2ff. ;  De  part.  anim.  6566  36.  5  De  sensu,  439a  1. 

6  Cf.  Baumker,  Des  Aristoteles  Lehre  von  den  aussern  und  innern 
Sinnesvermogen,  p.  55. 

7  Cf.  the  notes  on  duct  or  wbpos  above,  under  the  organ  of  sight. 


SENSATION  xlvii 

gustable  and  tangible.  Taste  is  therefore  a  special  form  of 
the  tactual  or  haptic  sense.  It  is  not  perceived  through 
the  medium  of  a  foreign  body  but  through  an  anatomical 
medium,  in  which  respect  it  differs  from  the  senses  of  sight, 
hearing,  and  smell.  The  latter  are  marked  by  actio  in 
distans,  while  taste  and  touch  operate  by  immediate 
contact.  This  immediate  contact  is  not  the  direct  contact 
of  the  sense-object  with  the  sense-organ,  which  is  found  in 
no  sense,  but  the  direct  contact  of  the  sense-object  with  our 
physical  organism  as  a  transmitting  medium.  Touch  is 
more  exquisitely  developed  in  man  than  in  any  other 
creature,  and  taste,  as  a  kind  of  touch,  shares  in  this  per- 
fection. The  gustable  or  flavour  is  the  sapid-moist. 
Gustable  juices  are  developed  in  water  or  in  a  moist 
element. 

There  is  a  great  variety  of  opinions  as  to  how  these 
qualities  originate  in  water.1  Water  is  not  to  be  regarded 
as  panchymic  in  the  sense  of  containing  originally  the 
germs  of  all  flavours,  as  was  held  by  Empedocles,  but  as 
primarily  neutral  and  only  potentially  chargeable  with 
flavour.  It  may  be  so  charged  by  the  processes  of  nature 
or  by  artificial  means.2  Flavours  in  the  moist  are  especially 
developed  under  the  influence  of  heat.  The  primary 
elements  taken  alone  are  tasteless;3  flavour  arises  only 
in  their  combinations,  and  it  is  only  in  forms  of  combina- 
tion that  the  elements  are  fit  for  food.4  Flavour  and 
the  nutritive  are  closely  connected,  sweet  being  the  most 

1  De  sensu,  441a  1  ff.  2  De  sensu,  4416  12  ff. 

3  De  sensu,  443a  8  ff.;  Meteor.  3586  18. 

4  De  sensu,  4416  24 ff.;  De  an.  4346  19 ff. 


xlviii  INTRODUCTION 

important  flavour  in  growth.1  The  basal  flavours  are  sweet 
and  bitter,2  from  which  are  derived  the  other  flavours. 
The  number  of  flavours,  like  the  number  of  colours,  is 
seven  :  sweet,  bitter,  salt,  harsh,  pungent,  astringent,  acid.3 
c.  The  Medium  of  Taste. — As  pointed  out  above,  the 
medium  of  taste  is  not  outside  the  body,  yet  taste  operates 
through  a  medium.4  We  can,  indeed,  taste  in  water,  but 
water  in  this  case  is  not  the  medium ;  it  is  charged  with  a 
gustable  substance  and  so  becomes  the  object,  not  the 
medium,  of  taste.5     The  medium  of  taste  is  the  tongue.6 

5.  Touch. 

Touch  and  taste  are  the  most  fundamental  and  therefore 
the  most  universal  of  the  senses,  because  they  are  necessary 
for  the  maintenance  of  animal  life.  No  animal  can  exist 
without  touch,  and  only  animals  can  possess  it.  As  it  is 
necessary  to  animal  life,  any  stimulus  sufficiently  excessive 
to  destroy  it,  destroys  not  only  the  organ,  as  in  the  other 
senses,  but  life  itself.  The  other  three  senses,  especially 
sight  and  hearing,  minister  to  higher  well-being  and  fur- 
nish materials  for  intellectual  life.  Touch  and  taste  are 
of  primary  importance  for  the  maintenance  of^phvjdcal_ 
well-being.7  Although  the  sense  of  sight  is  the  most  im- 
porTant  of  our  senses  for  higher  well-being,  because  of 
the  great  number  and  variety  of  sensations  with  which 
it  furnishes  us,8  yet  that  man  is  the  most  highly  endowed 

1  De  sensu,  442a.  2ff.  2  De  an.  4226  11 ;  De  sensu,  4.12b  16  ff. 

3  Cf.  translation,  p.  87,  note  2.  4  De  an.  435  a  16,  422a  9. 

5  De  an.  422a  12.  6  De  an.  423a  15,  4236  17,  26. 

7  De  sensu,  4366  10  ff. ;  De  an.  4146  2  ff. 

8  Metaph.  980a  21  ;  De  sensu,  437  a  5ff. 


SENSATION  xlix 

creature  is  shown  more  by  his  touch  than  by  his  sight,  in 
which  latter  many  of  the  lower  creatures  surpass  him. 
Further,  men  of  finest  tactual  sensibility  are  the  best 
endowed  intellectually.1 

a.  The  Organ  of  Touch. — As  in  the  case  of  taste  it  is  not 
made  clear  what  the  organ  is,  so  it  is  not  made  clear 
in  the  case  of  touch.  The  organ  is  described  merely 
as  something  intra-corporeal,  i.e.  it  is  not  the  superficies 
of  the  body.  This  may  refer  to  the  central  organ  as 
some  suppose,2  or,  as  I  think  more  probable,  to  some  unde- 
fined and  unknown  peripheral  organ  within  the  flesh.3 

b.  The  Object  of  Touch. — The  object  of  touch  is  the 
tangible  (currov).4'  Aristotle's  expression  contains  the 
same  tautology.  Tactual  distinctions  are  such  as  charac- 
terize the  body  as  body.  They  include  warm  and  cold,  dry 
and  moist,  hard  and  soft.5  The  objects  of  touch  do  not  fall 
under  a  single  category.  The  objects  of  sight  fall  under 
the  category  of  colour ;  those  of  hearing  under  the  category 
of  sound ;  but  the  objects  of  touch  are  not  reducible  to  this 
unity.6 

c.  The  Medium  of  Touch. — As  it  is  the  function  of  touch 
to  apprehend  the  qualities  of  body  as  body,  so  it  is  a  cor- 
poreal medium  that  transmits  these  qualities,  viz.  the  flesh. 
This  sense  gets  its  name  from  contact,  which  is  possible 
only  between  bodies.  The  body  in  general  is  the  medium 
of  touch,  and  the  tongue  is  the  medium  both  of  touch 
and  taste. 

1  De  an.  421a  15  ff.  2Cf.  Zeller's  Aristotle,  Eng.  tr.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  66. 

3  De  an.  422622.  4Z>e  an.  4346  12;  De  gener.  et  corrup.  3296  8. 

5  De  an.  4236  28  ff.  6  De  gener.  et  corrup.  330a  25  ;  De  an.  4226  32. 

d 


1  INTRODUCTION 

From  the  foregoing  it  will  be  seen  that  Aristotle 
hampered  as  he  was  by  the  lack  of  scientific  research  in 
physiology  and  physics  amongst  his  contemporaries,  struck 
boldly  out  into  the  terra  incognita  of  psychophysics  as  a 
discoverer.  His  is  not  only  the  first  attempt  to  create  a 
psychology  in  any  approximately  scientific  spirit,  but  it  is 
the  first  attempt  to  formulate  a  psychology  at  all. 


V. 

The  Common  or  Central  Sense. 

Aristotle's  conception  of  a  'common  sense'  (koivov 
aicrOrjTrjptov)1  has  no  logical  or  historical  connection  with 
the  Scottish  philosophy  of  common  sense.  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  in  his  elaborate  note  appended  to  the  works  of 
Reid),2  gives  four  meanings  in  which  the  term  '  common 
sense '  has  been  employed  in  ancient  and  modern  times : 
1.  It  was  employed  by  Aristotle  and  the  Peripatetics  to 
signify  sense  proper,  and  denoted  that  faculty  by  which 
the  various  reports  of  the  individual  senses  are  reduced  to 
the  unity  of  a  common  apperception.  2.  It  has  been 
applied  not  to  sense  proper,  but  to  those  cognitions  and  con- 
victions which  we  are  supposed  to  receive  from  nature  and 
which  all  men  possess  in  common,  whereby  we  test  the 
truth  of  knowledge  and  the  morality  of  acts.  This  is 
the  meaning  in  which  it  is  employed  in  the  Scottish  philo- 
sophy.    McCosh  called  it  the  Intuitive  Philosophy,  i.e.  the 

1  De  an.  425a  14  ff .  ;  De  somno,  455a  21;  De  long,  et  brev.  vit.  467&2S, 
469a  12. 

2  ReicTs  Works,  edited  by  Hamilton,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  751  ff. 


THE    COMMON    OR    CENTRAL    SENSE  li 

philosophy  which  regards  the  common  intuitions  of  the 
mind  as  the  criteria  of  truth. 

Dugald  Stewart  objected  to  the  term  '  common  sense '  on 
the  ground  of  its  ambiguity,  and  preferred  to  call  these 
common  convictions  "  the  fundamental  laws  of  human 
belief."  Common  sense,  he  asserts,  is  nearly  synonymous 
with  mother-wit,  and  good  sense  is  only  a  more  than 
ordinary  share  of  common  sense.  These  primary  or  intui- 
tive truths  are  what  Aristotle  calls  ultimate  principles 
(apyai),  but  not  principles  of  common  sense.  He  says  in 
the  Nicomachean  Ethics  : x  "  What  all  men  believe,  that  we 
affirm  to  be ;  and  he  who  rejects  this  belief  will  advance 
nothing  that  is  more  convincing,"  which  is  the  equivalent  of 
the  dictum :  quod  semjoer,  quod  ubique,  quod  ab  omnibus. 
These  universal  beliefs,  which  Aristotle  regards  as  the 
fundamental  principles  of  human  knowledge,  are  akin  to 
the  '  fundamental  laws '  of  Stewart.  The  doctrine  of  the 
sensus   communis,   however,  is  quite   distinct    from   this. 

3.  Common  sense,  when  used  with  an  emphasis  on  the 
adjective  or  substantive,  indicates  that  kind  of  intelligence, 
the  lack  of  which  causes  one  to  be  accounted  mad  or  foolish. 

4.  It  denotes  an  acquired  perception  of  the  duties  and  pro- 
prieties expected  from  each  member  of  society ;  a  sense  of 
public  spirit,  a  feeling  of  obligation  towards  the  commonweal. 
The  last  three  meanings  are  all  metaphorical,  and  do  not 
refer  to  sense  proper,  but  to  certain  intuitions  which,  like 
sensation,  are  characterized  by  immediacy,  originality,  and 
presumed  trustworthiness.  Thus  we  speak  metaphorically 
of  a  '  moral  sense,'  a  '  logical  sense,'  or  an  '  aesthetic  sense.' 

1  Eth.  nic.  1173a  1. 


Hi  INTRODUCTION 

Aristotle  employs  'common  sense'  to  signify  a  specific 
aspect  in  the  psychological  process  of  sense-perception. 
The  act  of  sense-perception  is  not  completed  in  the  peri- 
pheral sense-organs,  but  only  in  the  central  sense.1  There 
are,  as  enumerated,  in  the  previous  chapter,  five  peripheral 
organs  of  sense :  the  eye,  ear,  tongue  and  throat,  nose,  skin 
and  flesh.  These  are  stimulated  by  objects  in  the  outside 
world,  which  by  contact  with  the  organ  work  some  change 
(aXXoloocTLs)  in  it.  The  contact  is  effected  through  a  medium 
which  transmits  a  stimulus  from  the  sense-object  to  the 
perceiving  organ,  and  the  change  which  the  stimulus  works 
in  the  peripheral  organ  is  further  transmitted  by  the  blood 
or  sense-duct  to  the  sensor  ium  (central  organ).  In  every 
sensation  three  factors  are  to  be  taken  into  account :  (1)  the 
organ,  (2)  the  object  or  thing  sensed,  (3)  the  medium  of 
transmission.  In  the  case  of  vision,  as  explained  in  chap. 
IV.,  these  factors  are  the  eye,  the  thing  seen,  and  the 
diaphanous  or  translucent  medium,  whether  the  latter  be 
liquid  or  atmospheric. 

Every  sensation  presupposes  these  three  elements : 
organ,  object,  and  medium.  To  each  of  the  individual 
senses  belongs  the  function  of  apprehending  a  particular 
quality  tfSiov  alaOtjTOp).2  In  vision,  only  colour  is  sensed ; 
in  hearing,  only  sound ;  in  smell,  odour ;  in  taste,  flavour 
and  in  touch,  the  qualities  of  body  as  body  (hardness,  etc.). 
These  are  all  sensation-qualities,  but  they  are  not  percepts. 
By  means  of  sight,  e.g.,  we  have  the  sensation  of  green,  but 
do  not  perceive  an  olive.  An  olive  is  a  percept ;  green  is  a 
sensation.     An  olive  is  made  up  of  several  ideas,  of  hard- 

1De  an.  4266  10  ff.  ;  De  somno,  455  a  10  ff.  2  De  an.  418  a  10  ff. 


THE    COMMON   OR    CENTRAL    SENSE  liii 

ness,  taste,  colour,  form,  magnitude,  etc.,  and  these  are 
unified  in  a  particular  thing,  and  they  constitute  it  a  single 
concrete  object.  The  peripheral  organs  of  touch,  taste,  and 
sight  furnish  us  with  several  ideas  or  qualities  belonging  to 
s>  concrete  thing ;  but  it  is  only  by  the  unifying  function 
of  the  central  or  common  sense  that  these  various  qualities 
are  brought  together  for  knowledge  and  seen  to  inhere  in 
a  single  object;  in  other  words,  it  is  only  then  that  a 
percept  is  formed.  The  function  of  sensation,  therefore, 
belongs  to  the  peripheral  or  external  senses  in  so  far  as 
they  mediate  the  qualities  of  an  object  to  the  sensorium  or 
common  sense.  Perception}  then,  is  one  of  the  functions 
of  the  central  sense. 

Again,  it  is  by  means  of  the  central  sense  that  we 
recognize  particular  sensations  as  belonging  to  ourselves, 
and  can  hold  them  up  before  our  minds  as  something  known 
to  us.  We  know  that  we  see.  In  other  words,  we  are 
conscious  of  a  sensation.  Consciousness,2  then,  is  a  second 
function  of  the  common  sense.  Locke  made  a  distinction 
between  what  he  called  the  external  and  the  internal  senses. 
The  external  sense  gives  us  ideas  of  colour,  sound,  and  other 
properties  of  body.  The  internal  sense  gives  us  ideas  of 
thought,  reasoning,  memory,  and  the  other  operations  of 
our  own  minds,  and  is  another  name  for  consciousness. 
This  function,  so  far  as  it  is  limited  to  the  consciousness  of 
sensations  and  their  meaning  for  perceptual  knowledge,  is 
ascribed  by  Aristotle  to  the  common  sense. 

Again,  there  are  in  addition  to  the  particular  sense- 
qualities  (Tom   ala-OtjTa),  such  as  odour,  sound,  colour,  etc., 

1  De  serum,  449  a  3  ff.  2  De  an.  4256  12  ff. ;  De  sensu,  455  a  15  ff. 


liv  INTRODUCTION 

certain  properties  attaching  to  things  which  Aristotle  calls 
f  common  sensibles '  (koivol  alaOtjTa).1  These  are  rest,  motion, 
number,  shape,  and  magnitude.  They  are  called  '  common ' 
because  their  apprehension  does  not  belong  directly  to  any 
particular  sense  (although  they  are  perceived  indirectly  by 
each),  and  because  they  are  cognized  directly  by  the  common 
sense.  They  differ  from  primary  or  simple  sensibles  in 
having  no  specific  sense-organ.  This  is  a  third  function  of 
the  sensorium  commune.  Again,  the  individual  senses 
furnish  us  with  colour,  sound,  etc.,  but  it  is  not  their  function 
to  discriminate,  e.g.,  between  sweet  and  white,  or  to  differen- 
tiate degrees  of  bitter.  This  is  a  function  of  judgment,2  and 
it  is  ascribed  by  Aristotle  to  the  common  sense.  The  dis- 
crimination between  true  and  false,  between  real  and 
unreal  in  our  perceptions  is  made  not  by  the  peripheral 
senses,  but  by  the  central  sense.  The  sensatiojQ,j3ecause  it 
is  only  a  fact  and  as  a  sense-process  pronounces,  no  judg- 
ment; is  always  true,3  but  when  the  sensation  is  predicated 
of  something  and  a  judgment  is  expressed,  error  is  possible. 
It  is  the  internal  or  central  sense  that  performs  this  office 
of  judgment  in  the  sphere  of  perceptual  knowledge,  and  it 
is,  therefore,  to  the  central  sense  alone  that,  strictly  speak- 
ing, truth  and  falsehood  in  this  sphere  can  be  ascribed. 

Further,  sleep,4  imagination,5  memory,6  and  dreams,7  in 
so  far  as  they  signify  the  interruption  of  consciousness  or 
the  continued  life  and  movement  of  residual  sense-percep- 

1De  an.  418a  17,  425a  16;  De  mem.  450a  10.  Cf.  translation,  p.  96, 
note  2. 

2  De  an.  426  &  14  ff.  3  De  an.  4275  11,  428  a  12. 

4De  somno,  454a  23,  456a  1.  5  De  insom.  460&  17. 

6  De  mem.  451a  17.  7  De  insom.  4586  1  ff. 


THE    COMMON   OR    CENTRAL    SENSE  lv 

tions,  are  functions  of  the  sensorium.  In  summary,  these 
various  functions  of  the  central  or  common  sense  are  as 
follows :  1.  The  unification  of  the  primary  sensibles,  or  the 
complete  act  of  sense-perception ;  2.  Consciousness  ;  3.  The 
suspension  of  consciousness,  or  sleep ;  4.  The  cognition  of 
the  '  common  sensibles,'  magnitude,  number,  etc. ;  5.  Judg- 
ment, in  so  far  as  judgment  applies  to  the  comparison, 
contrast,  and  discrimination  of  the  deliverances  of  sense; 
6.  Imagination,  or  residual  sense-images ;  7.  Memory  (in- 
cluding reminiscence),  or  the  voluntary  and  involuntary 
reproduction  of  sensations;  while  lastly,  8.  its  content  is  the 
potentiality  of  reason. 

As  the  peripheral  senses  have  an  object,  a  medium,  and 
an  organ,  sojtlso  hasjthe  central  sense.  The  objects  are  the 
•  common  sensibles '  and  the  several  particular  sensations 
which  are  unified  by  the  central  sense  into  the  perception 
of  a  single  concrete  thing ;  the  medium  is  the  blood  and  the 
particular  sense-organs ;  and  its  own  organ  is  the  heart.1 

1  De  Juvent.  467628  ff.,  469a  11.  Aristotle's  reasons  for  rejecting  the 
brain  as  the  sensory  centre  may  be  summarized  as  follows  :  1.  The  brain 
of  a  living  animal  appears  to  be  insensible  to  touch  (Hist.  anim.  520616). 
2.  Aristotle  was  unable  to  discover  any  brain  in  the  invertebrates,  except- 
ing the  Cephalopods.  The  ganglia  in  other  invertebrates,  owing  to  his 
lack  of  instruments,  escaped  his  notice.  3.  The  peripheral  organs  (eye,  ear, 
and  nose)  are  not,  strictly  speaking,  connected  with  the  brain,  but  only 
with  the  vascular  membrane  surrounding  it.  4.  The  sense-ducts  are  con- 
nected with  the  heart,  from  which  radiates  the  entire  vascular  system. 
5.  The  heart  is  the  primum  vivens,  vltimv/m  moriens  (De  part.  anim. 
666a  20,  667a  20  ff.  ;  De  juvent.  468628)  in  animal  life,  and  as  sensibility 
is  the  most  fundamental  animal  characteristic,  so  the  heart  would  appear 
to  be  the  most  fundamental  organ  of  this  characteristic.  6.  With  loss  of 
blood  sensibility  is  lessened.  7.  The  heart's  action  is  plainly  affected  by 
pleasure  and  pain.  8.  Its  central,  acropolis-like  position  indicates  that 
nature's  economy  intended  the  heart  to  be  the  organ  of  government. 


lvi  INTRODUCTION 


y 


VI. 

Imagination  and  Memory.1 
The  process  of  knowing,  according  to  Aristotle,  develops  in 
three  different  stages  :  1.  The  primary  stage  or  simplest 
form  of  knowing  is  sensation  (ala-Orja-ig) ;  2.  The  second 
stage  is  imagination  ((pavrao-la),  or  the  power  of  using 
images  of  absent  objects;  3.  The  third  stage  is  rational 
thought  (vovs).  Although  imagination  differs  from  sen- 
sation and  conceptual  thought,  it  is  not  possible  without 
sensation;  and  thought,  in  turn,  is  not  possible  without 
imagination.  Imagination  is  the  persistence  of  a  sense- 
impression  after  the  removal  of  the  sense-stimulus,  described 
by  Hobbes  as  "decaying  sense,"2  and  by  Aristotle  as  a 
weaker  3  or  less  clear  sense. 

Imagination  mediates  between  sensation  and  thought. 
Sensation  furnishes  the  mind  with  a  body  of  impressions 
and  copies  of  the  external  world, — the  raw  material  which 
imagination  and  thought  employ.4  Imagination  is  a  store- 
house, as  it  were,  of  copies  of  sense-objects,  which  persist 
in  the  mind  as  images  after  the  seen  or  heard  objects  have 
been  removed.  I  no  longer  hear,  e.g.,  the  song  that  once 
stirred  my  sense,  yet  it  sings  and  repeats  itself  in  the 
auditor}^  imagery  of  my  mind.  I  no  longer  see  the  player 
distraught  with  the  woes  of  Oedipus,  yet  the  picture  of 

1See  translation,  pp.  110  ff. 

2 "  Imagination  therefore  is  nothing  but  decaying  sense,"  Hobbes' 
Leviathan,  Part  I.,  ch.  2,  p.  7.     Oxford,  1881. 

sBhet.  1370a  28. 

4  Aristotle's  distinctions  between  imagination  and  sensation  are  more 
minutely  given  in  note  1,  translation,  p.  110. 


IMAGINATION    AND    MEMORY  lvii 

his  tragic  face  remains  in  my  life  of  visual  imagination.  In 
this  meaning,  imagination  is  the  power  to  hold  the  im- 
pression of  sense  after  the  sense-object  has  gone.  Sensation 
refers  to  a  present^  impression ;  imagination  refers  to  an 
impression  of  something  that  is  no  longer  before  us. 
Imagination  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  the  life  of  thought 
and  memory,  for  without  it  mind  would  be  only  the  ever- 
shifting  scene  of  kaleidoscopic  sense-impressions  which, 
once  gone,  could  never  be  revived.  Imagination  partakes 
of  the  nature  of  both  thought  and  sensation ;  like  thought, 
it  is  a  subjective,  internal  activity ;  and  like  sensation,  it  is 
the  passive  receiver  of  images  and  forms  from  the  external 
world. 

The  word  fyavracria  is  used  by  Aristotle  to  mean  both 
the  faculty  of  imagination  and  the  product  of  imagination. 
For  the  latter  meaning,  however,  he  ordinarily  employs 
the  word  phantasm  ((pavracr/uLa).  There  are  three  more 
or  less  distinct  senses  in  which  Aristotle  makes  use 
of  the  term  phantasm :  1.  Appearance ;  2.  Phantasm  or 
false  appearance ;  3.  An  internal  mental  picture  of  an 
absent  sense-object.  It  is  in  the  last  meaning  that  the 
term  is  usually  employed  in  his  psychological  treatises. 
The  word  (pavracria  is  akin  to  <pao$  ('light'),  and 
<j>avTa£ecr6ai  ('  to  appear ') ;  and  there  is  in  the  word  an 
implied  distinction  between  the  phantasm  and  the  real ; 
it  is  appearance  versus  reality.  Yet  while  the  image  is  not 
the  real  thing  but  only  the  real  thing's  form,  it  may  be 
a  true  copy  of  the  real,  and,  as  such,  it  is  as  true  as  sensa- 
tion. The  two  prominent  elements  expressed  in  the  word, 
looked   at  etymologically,   are    form    and    light,   without 


lviii  INTRODUCTION 

which  the  sensible  world  is  not  revealed  to  us.     As  the  eye 
reveals   to  us    an  external  world   of    form   and   light,   so 
phantasy  reveals  to  us  an  inner  world  of  forms,  colour,  \/ 
perspective,  and  light, — an  inner  world  corresponding  in 
its  imagery  to  the  world  of  lighted  space. 

The  psychophysical  process  by  which  imagination  is 
produced  is  conceived  by  Aristotle  as  follows  :  Sensation  is 
due  to  a  movement  set  up  in  the  sense-organ  by  a  present 
stimulus.  This  movement  has  the  power  to  persist  after 
the  stimulus  has  been  removed.  Just  as  one  throws  a 
pebble  into  the  water  and  sets  up  a  circular  movement 
therein,  and  this  moving  circle  creates  a  second  by  its 
energy,  even  after  the  pebble  has  disappeared,  and  the 
second  circle  in  turn  communicates  its  movement  to  a  third, 
growing  fainter  the  while,  so  a  sense-stimulus  sets  up  a 
movement  in  the  sense-organ,  which  in  turn  communicates 
its  movement  to  the  blood,  and  the  blood,  under  favourable 
circumstances,  conveys  it  to  the  heart,  which  is  the  organ 
of  consciousness  and  of  the  higher  activities  of  the  mind. 
By  favourable  circumstances  Aristotle  means  cases  where 
the  movement  is  not  inhibited  or  interfered  with  by 
counter-movements  of  sensation,  and  where  the  sensation 
is  strong  enough  to  persist.  In  the  midst  of  the  cross- 
currents of  our  motley  life  of  sensation,  the  movements  set 
up  by  given  stimuli  are  constantly  crossed  and  impeded  by 
other  movements,  and  there  arises  amongst  them,  as  it  were, 
a  struggle  for  existence,  to  employ  a  much  used  formula  of 
modern  biology.1  Those  movements  which  at  the  moment 
are  strongest,  reach  the  heart  and  become  phantasms  or 

1  De  insom.  461a,  1  ff.;  De  an.  4286  10  ff. 


IMAGINATION   AND    MEMORY  lix 

conscious  images.  Similarly  also  to  the  fainter  expression 
of  the  communicated  movement  in  the  illustration  drawn 
from  the  pebble,1  the  communicated  movement  in  the 
phantasm  is  fainter  than  that  in  the  original  sensation. 

In  a  passage  in  the  Rhetoric  already  referred  to, 
Aristotle  describes  a  phantasm  as  a  "weak  sensation/' 
which  is  very  like  the  view  of  Hobbes,  who  says  :  "  All 
fancies  are  motions  within  us,  reliques  of  those  made  in 
the  sense." 2  These  movements  of  the  imagination  are,  as 
one  might  expect,  especially  characteristic  of  sleep,  during 
which  the  sense-activity  is  suppressed.  Dream -images  are 
not  always  copies  of  the  real  world,  but  often  merely  a  mass 
of  confused,  distorted  forms  having  no  apparent  relation  to 
actual  things.  Imagination,  therefore,  has  two  forms : 
(1)  That  of  revived  or  residual  sense-perceptions,  i.e.  copies 
or  images  of  the  real  world,  in  which  the  imagination  is 
passive  or  receptive ;  (2)  That  of  reconstructed  or  created 
images,  in  which  the  imagination  is  active  and  productive. 
The  one  form  of  imagination  is  called  by  Aristotle  (pavracrla 
aicrOrjTiK}],  the  perceptual  or  reproductive  imagination,  and 
the  other  form  (pavraa-la  XoyicrTitai,  the  constructive  or  pro- 
ductive imagination.3     The  latter  belongs  only  to  man,  the 

1  De  insom.  461<x  20  ff.  and  note  1,  translation,  p.  242. 

2  Leviathan,  p.  12  (Part  I.,  ch.  iii).     Cf.  Freudenthal,  Uebe,r  dm  Begriff 
des  Wortes  (pavTaaia  bei  Aristoteles,  p.  24. 

3  In  modern  psychology  imagination  and  thought  are  less  differentiated 
than  in  Aristotle's  writings,  where  imagination  is  always  either  the  reproduc- 
tion of  sense-elements  or  their  reconstruction  into  new  images,  without  loss 
of  their  sensuous  or  picture  character.  Of  constructive  imagination  Titchener 
says  :  "  It  is  a  '  thinking '  or  judging  not  in  words  but  in  reproductive  ideas. 
Psychologically,  then,  there  is  no  difference  between  the  '  imagination ' 
of  the  poet  and  the  'thought'  of  the  inventor"  [Outline  of  Psychology, 
p.  297). 


lx  INTRODUCTION 

former  to  the  brute  creation  as  well  as  to  man.  Further, 
the  imagery  accompanying  general  notions  and  concep- 
tual thought  is  a  creation  of  the  productive  imagination. 
The  latter  form  of  imagination  is  due  to  a  free  initiative 
power  in  the  central  organ,  which  may  take  the  character 
of  a  logical  construction  of  the  elements  of  sense-imagery 
into  a  coherent  complex,  such  as  is  exhibited  in  a  creation 
of  literary  or  plastic  art;  or  it  may  take  the  form  of 
arbitrary,  incoherent,  confused  image-masses,  as  exhibited 
in  sleep,  in  the  delirium  of  fever,  or  in  the  excitement  of 
vehement  desire  or  violent  passion.  Such  distortions  and 
malformations,  corresponding  to  no  real  things,  are  due 
mainly  to  physiological  causes,  especially  to  excessive  heat 
and  disordered  movements  in  the  blood.  They  occur 
mostly  in  sleep,  because  the  activities  of  thought  and 
sensation,  which  act  as  regulators  of  imagination  by  day, 
are  suppressed  in  sleep,  and,  consequently,  the  activities  of 
imagery  have  then  complete  control  of  the  central  organ. 
These  phantasies,  uncontrolled  by  waking  consciousness, 
resemble  the  imagery  of  clouds,  which,  as  Aristotle  says,1 
at  one  moment  represent  a  centaur,  at  another  a  man,  and 
are  constantly  shifting  in  their  forms.  Melancholy  has 
great  influence  in  the  production  of  pictures  of  phantasy, 
because  it  generates  excessive  heat  in  the  central  organ ;  so 
also  have  such  pathological  conditions  as  are  found  in 
ecstasy  and  madness,  observable  in  the  case  of  sibyls  and 
religious  maniacs,  in  whose  minds  the  pictures  of  fancy  are 
regarded  as  real  objects.     In  these  cases  right  judgment, 

1  De  insom.  4606  12,    4616  20;    Metaph.  10246  22;    Prob.  9953a  iOff., 
9576  10  ff. 


IMAGINATION    AND    MEMORY  lxi 

which  normally  assists  in  the  regulation  of  the  image- 
making  function,  is  inhibited.  Imagination,  then,  is  for 
Aristotle  both  an  image-receiving  and  an  image-producing 
power.1  As  an  image-receiving  or  image-holding  power,  it 
is  the  source  of  memory  and  recollection.  This  is  the 
reproductive  function  of  imagination.  A  memory  or 
memory-image  differs  from  a  phantasm  in  two  particulars  : 
(1)  memory  regards  the  phantasm  as  a  copy  of  something, 
while  imagination  regards  it  simply  as  a  picture;  (2) 
memory  regards  the  thing,  of  which  the  phantasm  is  a 
copy,  as  having  been  seen  or  known  by  us.  It  is  recog- 
nized as  part  of  a  past  experience. 

The  deliberate  and  conscious  calling  up  of  this  copy 
is  recollection  (avd/uLvrio-ii).  Recollection  depends  on  the 
original  coherence  of  the  movements  or  elements  in  experi- 

1  That  Aristotle  employs  imagination  in  these  two  senses  is,  I  think, 
demonstrable.  The  terms  above  cited,  (pavraaia  alaOvrcKri  and  (pavraaia 
XoyLcrTLKr)  (De  an.  433629),  are  thus  most  consistently  explained.  Further, 
in  the  aims  of  art  and  the  ends  of  conduct  Aristotle  employs  imagination 
in  the  constructive  or  productive  sense  (De  poet.  1455a  22 ft.;  Eih.  Nic. 
11386  20  ff*. ),  and  he  sharply  distinguishes  between  the  sense-imagination  of 
the  lower  animals  and  the  rational  employment  made  of  it  by  man  (De  an. 
434a  6,  429a  1  ff.  Cf.  Frohschammer,  Ueber  die  Principien  der  aristotelischen 
Philosophie,  pp.  52  ff. ;  and  Teichmiiller,  Aristotelische  Forschungen, 
Vol.  II.,  pp.  149  ff.).  Again,  it  is  possible  to  call  before  the  mind  an 
imaginary  object,  a  new  and  more  or  less  arbitrary  construction,  which  is 
not  possible  in  reproductive  imagination  or  in  discursive  thought  controlled 
by  rigid  laws  of  procedure  (De  an.  4276  15 ff.).  Butcher,  although  he 
denies  that  Aristotle  employed  the  term  in  a  productive  sense,  yet  in  his 
account  of  phantasy  implies  (correctly,  I  think)  that  Aristotle  did  use  the 
term  in  this  meaning  (Aristotle's  Theory  of  Poetry  and  Fine  Art,  pp.  126  ff. 
and  Preface,  p.  viii.  Cf.  also  Freudenthal,  op.  cit.,  pp.  31,  45).  It  is  not 
to  be  supposed,  of  course,  that  Aristotle  thinks  of  two  imaginations,  but 
merely  of  two  functions  of  this  psychological  power — the  one  concerned 
with  the  reproduction  of  sense-elements,  and  the  other  with  their  logistic 
or  rational  reconstruction  into  new  forms. 


lxii  INTRODUCTION 

ence.  By  virtue  of  this  original  coherence  one  image  is 
called  up  by  another  formerly  connected  with  it.  The  laws 
of  association  in  memory1  are  described  by  Aristotle  as 
(1)  similarity,  (2)  contrast,  (3)  contiguity.2 

Productive  or  active  imagination,  on  the  other  hand, 
creates  images  that  do  not  correspond  with  past  experiences 
or  sensations,  but  which  have  only  an  ideal  or  subjective 
existence.  These  images  are  the  phantasies  of  dream-life, 
of  delirium,  of  art-creation,  etc.  It  is  to  the  imagination 
that  art  appeals.  The  image-making  power  is  the  sub- 
jective source  of  art  imitation  ([xl/uyo-is).  It  is  the  function 
of  imagination  to  clothe  the  idea  in  a  picture  or  figured 
space  and  thus  to  mediate  between  the  outward  work  of 
art  and  the  internal  idea.  Art,  in  Aristotle's  opinion,  is 
essentially  mimetic.  Imitation  in  art  is,  in  the  first  place, 
an  imitation  of  a  picture  in  the  phantasy.  Measured 
alongside  the  work  of  art,  the  mental  picture  or  phantasy 
is  an  abstraction.  The  work  of  art  is  the  concrete  ideal, 
and  here  phantasy  is  active  and  creative.  The  mental 
image  itself,  however,  is  either  a  mimetic  picture  of  the 
sensible  real  or  it  is  a  purified  picture  of  the  sensible 
real.  When  art  is  not  merely  mechanically  reproductive 
or  crudely  mimetic,  but  is  the  purified  or  cathartic  picture 
of  the  real,  then  (Aristotle  says)  poetry  is  more  philoso- 
phical and  more  serious  than  history.3  History  is  par- 
ticular ;  poetry  and  art  are  universal,  idealistic. 

1  Aristotle  says  that  experience,  which  is  akin  to  science  and  art,  is 
derived  from  'much  memory'  {Anal.  post.  100a 5;  Metaph.  9806  29).  Cf. 
Hobbes'  Leviathan  (ch.  ii.,  Part  I. ),  p.  7:  "Much  memory,  or  memory  of 
many  things,  is  called  experience." 

2  De  mem.  451b  10  ff.  a  De  poet.  1451?>  5  ff. 


IMAGINATION   AND    MEMORY  lxiii 

The  relation  between  phantasy  and  artistic  genius  is 
unfortunately  scarcely  more  than  touched  upon  by  Aris- 
totle. Imagination  is  the  normative  and  directing  power 
in  art,  because  it  is  imagination  that  places  before  the 
artist  the  end  he  wishes  to  attain,  and  this  end  is  given 
in  the  form  of  a  mental  picture  or  image.  The  art-object 
exists  in  phantasy  prior  to  its  existence  in  reality.  The 
creations  of  art  are  the  projections  of  internal  phantasms 
into  the  various  forms  of  art-expression, — into  the  form 
of  fixed  and  arrested  matter  (sculpture  and  architecture),1 
or  into  the  form  of  fluent,  rhythmic  verbal  symbols 
(poetry),  or  coloured  superficies  (painting),  or  melodious 
sequence  of  sounds  (music).  In  every  instance  art  is 
concerned  with  appearances  ((pavrdor/uLaTa),  and  is,  there- 
fore, always  sensuous.  It  is  clothed  exclusively  in  imagery- 
drawn  from  the  sense-world,  even  the  rhythm  of  poetry 
being  an  imitation  of  aesthetic  movement  in  a  world 
of  sensible  motion. 

The  final  function  of  imagination,  in  Aristotle's  account, 
is  to  supply  the  schematic  form  in  which  the  higher 
activities  of  conceptual  thought  are  clothed.  The  reason 
needs  general  images  for  the  schematism  of  general 
notions,  and  such  schemata  are  supplied  to  vov$  by  the 
productive  imagination.  Furthermore,  imagination  medi- 
ates the  sense-world  to  the  reason,  and  thought  interprets 
the  imaged  world  of  sense  in  the  forms  of  science  and 
philosophy. 

1  Architecture  is  not  included  amongst  the  fine  arts  by  Aristotle,  because 
it  serves  practical  ends  and  its  primary  purpose  is  not  to  minister  to  the 
aesthetic  emotions,  and  further  because  of  its  non-imitative  character.  Cf. 
Butcher,  Aristotle's  Theory  of  Poetry  and  Fine  Art,  pp.  146  fF. 


lxiv  INTRODUCTION 

VII. 

Practical  Reason  and  Will. 

The  practical  reason  differs  in  its  function  from  the 
theoretic  reason.  These  are  not  two.  reasons,_but_  one 
reason  operative  in  two  distinct  fields,  viz.  in  the  field  of 
knowledge  and  in  the  field  of  morality;  and  as  the  subject- 
matter  and  results  in  the  two  cases  differ,  so  the  two 
functions  have  received  different  names.  The  function  of 
the  theoretic  reason  is  to  discriminate  between  the  true 
and  the  false ;  the  function  of  the  practical  reason  is  to 
discriminate  between  the  good  and  the  bad.1  The  former 
knows;  the  latter  judges,  weighs,  evaluates,  advises,  and 
determines.  The  practical  reason  is  concerned  with  de- 
liberation and  conduct,  with  knowledge  as  applied  to 
action ;  the  theoretic  reason  is  concerned  with  knowledge  as 
such.  The  theoretical  reason  gives  no  commands.  The 
practical  reason  operates  in  the  form  of  a  practical  syl- 
logism, whose  conclusion  is  epitactic  or  imperative. 

Aristotle  describes  this  syllogism  as  follows:  All  de- 
liberate action  is  resolvable  into  a  major  and  minor 
premiss,  from  which  the  given  action  logically  issues. 
The  major  premiss  is  a  general  conception  or  moral 
maxim  ;  the  minor  premiss  is  a  particular  instance ;  and 
the  conclusion  is  an  action  involved  in  subsuming  the 
particular  instance  under  the  general  conception  or  law. 
The  conclusion  is  not  an  abstraction,  as  in  the   case  of  a 

^De  an.  431610,  433a  14,  434a  16  ;  Eth.  nic.  1144a  31  ff.,  1147a  1  ff. ;  De 
motu  anim.  701a  7  ff. 


PRACTICAL    REASON    AND    WILL  lxv 

theoretical   syllogism,   but    consists    in    an    action    and    is 
jussive,  e.g.1 

Major  premiss  :  All  men  should  take  exercise  ; 

Minor  premiss  :  I  am  a  man  ; 

Conclusion  :  I  should  take  exercise  ; 
Or, 

Light  meats  are  wholesome, 

This  is  a  light  meat, 

.".  It  is  wholesome. 
Our  English  phrase  'acting  on  principle'  is,  as  Grant 
pointed  out,  the  equivalent  of  Aristotle's  practical  syl- 
logism.2 The  practical  syllogism  operates  in  the  sphere 
of  conduct,  of  choice  and  the  variable  3  (to.  evSexo/J-eva  a\\m 
e'xeiv),  not  in  the  sphere  of  necessary  truth  as  is  the  case 
with  the  speculative  reason,  whose  aim  is  demonstrable 
truth,  whereas  the  aim  of  the  practical  reason  is  the  good, 
the  prudent,  the  desirable.  The  content  of  the  conclusion 
as  knowledge  is  the  essential  matter  for  the  former;  the 
content  of  the  conclusion  as  motive  is  the  essential  matter 
for  the  latter.  The  main  business  of  the  former  is  with 
the  understanding,  of  the  latter,  with  the  will ;  the  prin- 
ciple of  '  sufficient  reason '  is  related  to  the  understanding 
as  the  principle  of  '  final  cause '  or  motive  is  related  to  the 
will.4  In  the  practical  syllogism  obligation  is  vested  in 
the  conclusion,  and  the  particular  or  minor  premiss  is  more 
cogent  than  the  major,  i.e.  it  is  not  the  general  law,  but  the 

1  De  motu  anim.  701a  27  ;  Eth  nic.  11416  18  ff. 

2  The  Ethics    of  Aristotle,  edited  by   Sir  A.   Grant,  3rd   ed.,  Loudon 
1874,  Vol.  I.,  p.  269. 

-Eth.  nic.  1140a32ff.,  1141a  1  ff. 

4Cf.  Grant,  op.  cit.,  p.  263.     Also  De  an.  432a  10  ff.,  translation   p.  132. 

e 


V 


lxvi  INTRODUCTION 

application  of  the  general  law  to  a  particular  person,  that 
stimulates  to  action.1 

The  virtue  characteristic  of  the  practical  reason  is 
prudence  or  practical  insight  ((ppovrjo-t?).  "Prudence  is 
neither  a  science  nor  an  art ;  it  cannot  be  a  science  because 
the  sphere  of  action  is  that  which  is  variable ;  it  cannot  be 
an  art,2  for  production  is  generically  different  from  action;"3 
and  although  Aristotle  rejects  the  Socratic  doctrine  that 
virtue  is  knowledge  (the  sphere  of  moral  life  is  pleasure 
and  pain,  rather  than  knowledge),4  he  goes  on  to  say  that 
the  "  presence  of  the  single  virtue  of  prudence  implies  the 
presence  of  all  the  moral  virtues." 5  Prudence,  however,  is 
not  itself  the  whole  of  moral  virtue  :  "  moral  virtue  makes 
us  desire  the  end,  while  prudence  makes  us  adopt  the  right 
means  to  the  end."  6  Although  men  act  on  general  principles 
and  laws,  they  do  not  perform  general  acts ;  all  acts  are 
particular:  and  so  Aristotle,  in  describing  the  practical 
reason  and  its  characteristic  moral  quality  of  prudence, 
further  differentiates  it  from  the  theoretic  reason  by  saying 
it  is  concerned  immediately  with  particulars  (aicrOrjcri?, 
ecrxaTOV,   irpaKTOv  ayaOov,  to  icaO'  etcacrTOv).7 

The  jussive  character  of  its  conclusion  is,  indeed,  derived 

1Dean.  434a  17. 

2  Human  activities  are  classified  by  Aristotle  into  three  main  groups  :  (1) 
knowledge,  (2)  action,  (3)  production  (art).  To  these  three  groups  of 
activities  he  assigns  the  following  corresponding  forms  of  science  :  (1) 
theoretic,  (2)  practical,  (3)  poetic.     Cf.  Metaph.  10256  20  ff. 

s£th.  nic.  114061  ff. 

*Eth.  nic.   11046  9. 

5Eth.  nic.  1145a  1  Peters' translation  (4th  ed.,  London,  1891),  Bk. 
VI.,  13,  6. 

«Eth.  nic.  1145a  5  (Bk.  VI.,  13,  7). 

1  Eth.  nic.  1141616,  28,  1142a  22,  1142a  25-30. 


PRACTICAL    REASON   AND    WILL  lxvii 

from  the  major  premiss,  but  only  by  applying  the  major 
premiss  to  a  particular  instance.  The  empirical  knowledge 
of  particular  facts  is  more  immediately  important.  "  Prud- 
ence x  does  not  deal  in  general  propositions  only,  but  implies 
knowledge  of  particular  facts  also ;  for  it  issues  in  action, 
and  the  field  of  action  is  the  field  of  particulars.  This  is 
why  some  men  who  lack  scientific  knowledge,  especially 
men  of  wide  experience,  are  more  efficient  in  practice  than 
others  that  have  such  knowledge.  Prudence  is  concerned 
with  practice  and  needs  both  general  truths  and  particular 
facts,  but  more  especially  the  latter." 2  It  is  the  particular 
or  minor  premiss  that  is  most  cogent  in  stimulating  to 
action.  The  minor  premiss,  however,  is  immediately  per- 
ceived and  often  obvious,  and  the  practical  syllogism  then 
has  the  form  of  enthymeme. 

The  epitactic  quality  of  the  practical  reason  is  not  think- 
able apart  from  the  virtue  of  the  will.  It  can  legislate, 
but  not  execute.  Volition  is  not  vested  in  it,  although  no 
moral  volition  is  possible  without  it.  However,  as  a 
legislative  power  it   guides   the   will   by   enlightening   it. 

1  Walter  identifies  practical  reason  and  prudence,  and  regards  the 
doctrine  of  a  vous  irpanTiKos  as  a  late  interpretation  of  Aristotle,  due  to 
an  incorrect  translation  of  Albertus  Magnus.  Walter's  distinctions, 
although  very  acute,  seem  to  me  not  only  unprofitable  refinements,  but 
of  questionable  bermeneutic  soundness.  The  fact  that  the  process  here 
referred  to  is  described  by  Aristotle  as  syllogistic  and  issuing  in  conduct 
{De  an.  433a  1-16),  and  the  frequent  reference  to  practical  reason  as  a 
distinct  psychological  power  {irpa.KTi.Kbs  vous,  De  an.  433a  16,  Eth.  nic. 
1142a  25-30;  di&vota  Trpa/cri/oy,  De  an.  4336  18,  Pol.  13256  18  ;  \6yos  irpaKTiKos, 
Pol.  1333a  25),  seem  to  show  that  Aristotle  regarded  this  not  only  as  different 
from  the  theoretic  function  or  reason,  but  also  as  different  from  (ppovrjais 
(prudence)  as  a  moral  quality.  Cf.  Walter,  Die  Lehre  von  der  praktischen 
Vemunft,  Jena,  1894,  pp.  15  ff. 

2  Eth  nic.  11416  15  ff. 


lxviii  INTRODUCTION 

By  will  Aristotle  understands  any  effort  towards  the  good. 
The  lowest  form  of  will  is  impulse;  its  highest  form  is 
rational  desire.  A 

Aristotle,  like  Plato,  developed  his  ethical  doctrines  in 
the  closest  connection  with  his  psychological  theories.  His 
conception  of  the  moral  will  and  its  function  is  determined 
largely  by  his  theory  of  the  practical  reason.  In  his 
analysis  of  the  elements  of  consciousness,  he  finds  only  what 
we  should  call  ideational  and  affective  elements.  There 
is  no  reference  to  any  third  conative  element.  The  two 
component  elements  in  the  ethical  will  are  practical  reason 
and  desire  (e7ri6ujuLia,  opegig).1  Desire,  as  Aristotle  employs  it, 
is  not  a  purely  pathic  or  affective  element.  Feeling  as  such 
(theoretically)  is  completely  passive, — mere  enjoyment  of 
the  pleasant  or  mere  suffering  of  the  painful.  Aristotle, 
however,  describes  desire  as  an  effort  towards  the  attain-  vy 
ment  of  the  pleasant,  i.e.  he  includes  in  it  an  activity  or  a 
conative  element.  It  is  feeling  with  an  added  quality  of 
impulse  (Trieb).  More  specifically  and  in  detail  the  elements 
contained  in  it  are :  (1)  An  idea  or  presentative  element. 
There  can  be  no  desire  without  cognition  or  imagination 
(opeKTiKov  Se  ovk  avev  (pai'Taclag).2  An  animal  cannot  desire 
that  of  which  it  has  no  image.  (2)  An  element  of  feeling. 
In  every  desire  or  aversion  there  is  an  element  of  pleasure 
or  pain.3  (3)  An  element  of  effort  or  activity.4  Desire  •* 
involves  pursuit  or  avoidance,  'and  in  it  is  given  a  spring 

1  De  an.  4326  6  ff. ,  433a  2  ff. ,  4146  5,  433a  1—4336  30,  431a  12  ;   De  somno, 
454631;  Eth.  nic.  1094a  21,  1139a 22,  lllla32ff. 
2 Dean.  4336  28. 

zDe  an.  413623,  434a  3;  Eth.  nic.  11756  27. 
4  De  an.  433a  9-21 ;  Eth.  nic.  11116  17,  1139a  22. 


PRACTICAL    REASON    AND    WILL  lx 

of  action.  The  object  of  desire  is  the  motive  in  conduct.1 
The  pleasure  that  is  felt  or  anticipated  is  the  object  of  effort 
and  the  initiator  of  movement,  and  it  is  through  desire 
that  the  practical  reason  operates  indirectly  on  actions. 
"  Mere  reasoning  never  sets  anything  in  motion,  but  only 
reasoning  about  means  to  an  end  or  practical  reasoning,"  2 
i.e.  reasoning  which  guides  or  modifies  the  desires. 

This  deliberative  process  of  the  practical  reason,  issuing 
in  an  imperative  conclusion  and  combined  with  desire,  con- 
stitutes for  Aristotle  the  moral  will.  The  reason  alone  does 
not  produce  action,  and  the  desire  alone  is  non-rational  and 
non-moral.  Aristotle,  therefore,  defines  the  moral  will 
<7r/Doa//oeo7?)3  as  desire  penetrated  by  reason,  or  reason 
stimulated  by  desire  (ope£i?  StavotiriKi'i,  vov$  o/oe/crtKo'?).4 
The  practical  reason  contains  a  jussive  force  and  rightness, 
while  desire  supplies  an  active,  appetitive  quality.  The 
moral  will,  therefore,  is  a  complex  of  reason  and  desire, 
and  is  supposed  by  Aristotle  to  function  under  the  follow- 
ing modes  :  (1)  deliberate  choice ;  (2)  purpose  ;  (3)  freedom ; 
(4)  fixed  habit.  By  means  of  particular  acts  issuing  from 
free  and  deliberate  choice  is  generated  the  individual's 
moral  character,  which  Aristotle  describes  as  fixed  habit 
(eft?) 5  or  the  persistent  will. 

Aristotle  maintains  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  says  it 
is  in  our  power  to  be  "worthy  or  worthless."6  This,  he 
argues,  is  attested  by  our  own  consciousness  of  power  to 

1  De  an.  4336  1 1 .  2  Eth.  nic.  1 1 39a  36. 

3  Eth.  nic.  1106a3,  1113allff.,  I139a31,  33,  113964;  De  mot.  anim. 
7006  23.  4  Eth.  nic.  1 1396  4,  1 1026  30. 

5Categ.  86  28,  9a5;  Eth.  nic.  1106a 22,  1105625,  1157631. 
«Eth.  nic.  1113614. 


lxx  INTRODUCTION 

do  or  to  refrain,  by  the  common  testimony  o£  men,  by  the 
rewards  and  punishments  of  rulers,  and  by  the  general 
employment  of  praise  and  blame.  Particular  acts  are 
always  in  our  power,  and  we  are  responsible  for  them, — 
we  may  not  contend  that  because  they  are  determined  by 
temperament  or  character,  they  are  not  free  and  we  are 
not  responsible.1  "  We  are  masters  of  our  acts  from 
beginning  to  end,  when  we  know  the  particular  circum- 
stances ;  but  we  are  masters  of  the  beginnings  only  of  our 
habits  or  characters,  while  their  growth  by  gradual  steps  is 
imperceptible,  like  the  growth  of  disease.  Inasmuch, 
however,  as  it  lay  with  us  to  employ  or  not  to  employ  our 
faculties  in  this  wTay,  the  resulting  characters  are  on  that 
account  voluntary." 2  In  a  certain  sense  we  are  creators  of 
our  own  determinism,  paradoxical  as  this  may  sound. 
Aristotle  says  in  the  Topics  that  man  is  determined  in 
the  sense  that  "  a  man's  destiny  is  his  own  soul,"  3  although 
its  character  is  his  own  voluntary  creation.  It  is  true 
that  by  voluntary  particular  acts  a  man  becomes  volun- 
tarily just  or  unjust,  "but  it  does  not  follow  that,  if  he 
wishes  it,  he  can  cease  to  be  unjust  and  be  just,  any  more 
than  he  who  is  sick  can,  if  he  wishes  it,  be  whole.  And  it 
may  be  that  he  is  voluntarily  sick,  through  living  incontin- 
ently and  disobeying  the  doctor.  At  one  time,  then,  he 
had  the  option  not  to  be  sick,  but  he  no  longer  has  it,  now 
that  he  has  thrown  away   his   health.     When  you  have 

1Eth.  nic.  11136  5  ff.  (Bk.  III.,  ch.  5). 

2Eth.    nic.    11147)26   ff.    (Peters'  translation,    4th   ed.,    London,    1891, 
Bk.  III.,  ch.  5,  end). 

8  Top.  112a  38,  ravr-qv  (sc.  i>vxw)  yap  endcxTOV  ehcu  daifxova. 


CREATIVE    REASON  lxxi 

thrown  a  stone,  it  is  no  longer  in  your  power  to  call  it 
back."1 

In  the  foregoing  I  have  had  regard  only  to  the  moral 
will.  In  a  general  sense,  however, — perhaps  akin  to 
Schopenhauer's  conception, — Aristotle  employs  the  term 
evepyeia  (all  organic  effort)  as  will.  This  form  of  will  or 
activity  is,  in  his  teleological  view  of  the  world,  impulse  to 
the  good  or  a  striving  towards  self-realization,  whether  in 
plant  or  animal.  It  manifests  itself  in  psychical  life  in 
such  various  forms  as  nutrition,  locomotion,  sensation,  and 
rational  activity.  The  whole  of  psychical  or  organic  life, 
therefore,  is  regarded  from  the  standpoint  of  will  or 
activity  tending  designedly  towards  the  realization  of  a 
given  potentiality.  But  will  in  the  moral  sense,  the 
voluntas  intellectiva  of  Thomas  Aquinas  and  the  will  of 
modern  ethics,  is  rationalized  desire  or  feeling  acting  under 
forms  imposed  by  reason. 


VIII. 

Creative  Reason.2 

Aristotle's  account  of  the  theoretical  activity  of  reason 
is  very  meagre, — wholly  inadequate  for  any  reconstruc- 
tion that  is  not  speculative  and  tentative.  Even  the 
learned  commentator  Themistius  says  regarding  the 
doctrine  of  the  active  reason  :  "  The  philosopher  himself 
(i.e.     Aristotle)    is    here    more    like    a    puzzled    inquirer 

lEth.  nic.  1113&14ff. 

2  This  chapter  is  reprinted  (with  slight  changes)  from  the  Philosophical 
Review  (Vol.  XI.,  No.  3,  May  1902). 


lxxii  INTRODUCTION 

(cnropovvTi)  than  a  teacher." 1  And  Theophrastus,  who 
succeeded  Aristotle  as  Scholarch  of  the  Lyceum  and  was 
intimately  instructed  in  the  Peripatetic  doctrines,  although 
he  accepted  the  theory  of  a  twofold  reason  (active  and 
passive),  was  unable  to  explain  it.  How  the  reason  could 
be  at  once  native  to  man  and  yet  enter  from  without,  and 
how  potentiality  is  related  to  actuality  in  reasoning,  were 
difficulties  which  Theophrastus,  as  reported  by  Themistius,2 
regarded  as  serious,  if  not  insoluble.  Thus  the  question 
regarding  the  nature  of  the  active  reason3  early  became  a 
matter  of  controversy,  and  it  has  continued  a  fruitful  source 
of  polemics  among  the  Syrians,  Arabs,  and  Christians  for 
well-nigh  two  millenniums. 

Eudemus  explained  the  active  reason  in  us  by  saying 
that  it  is  God  (not  Oeiov  but  #eoc)  in  man  (cf.  Eih.  Eud. 
1248a  24).  Similarly,  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias  (called 
Aristotle's  exegete  par  excellence),  who  held  a  pantheistic 
view  of  the  world,  regarded  the  creative  reason  as  the 
activity  of  the  divine  intelligence.4  The  Syrians  and  Arabs 
were  greatly  influenced  by  Alexander.  Avicenna,  however, 
interprets  the  doctrine  in  terms  of  an  emanation  theory  of 
the  world,  akin  to  Neo-Platonism.  Intelligible  forms  are 
endowed  with  immaterial  pre-existence  in  pure  spirits,  the 
highest  created  intelligences.     From  the  highest  they  pass 

1  Themistius,  Comm.  in  Arist.  lib.  de  anima,  fol.  lib. 

2  Themistius,  Paraphrasis  librorum  de  anima,  ed.  Spengel,  pp.  189,  8  ; 
198,  13.     (On  Dean.  III.,  5.) 

3  The  term  vovs  ttol-^tlkos  occurs  nowhere  in  the  writings  of  Aristotle,  but 
the  equivalent  is  given  in  to  ttoltjtlkov  and  to  ttolcIp  irdvTa  and  by  implica- 
tion in  the  antithesis  to  vovs  irad^TtKos.  Cf.  De  an.  426a  4,  430a  12, 
430a  24. 

4  Cf.  Brentano,  Die  Psychologic  des  Aristoteles,  Mainz,  1867,  p.  7. 


CREATIVE    REASON  lxxiii 

into  a  second  sphere,  from  the  second  into  a  third,  and 
so  on  down  into  the  last,  which  is  the  creative  reason 
(intelligentia  agens).  From  this  creative  (cosmic)  reason 
intelligible  forms  pass  into  the  soul,  on  the  one  hand ;  as 
substantial  forms  they  pass  into  material  things,  on  the  other 
hand.  Subject  and  object  are  thus  reconciled  by  means 
of  the  forms  (intelligible  for  reason  and  substantial  for 
concrete  things)  which  emanate  from  a  common  source,  viz. 
the  creative  reason.  The  substantial  form,  i.e.  the  class- 
notion  immanent  in  sensible  particulars,  is  correlated  with 
the  intelligible  form,  i.e.  the  concept  immanent  in  reason, 
and  therefore  knowing  subject  and  known  object  are  only 
different  aspects  of  one  reality.  Subject  and  object  are 
unified  in  the  creative  reason.  The  passive  reason,  by 
means  of  phantasms  or  images,  is  able  to  apprehend  the 
substantial  forms  (genera),  and  from  the  active  reason  it 
receives  the  light  of  intelligible  forms  (concepts).  The 
intelligible  forms  from  the  active  reason  are  combined  in 
the  passive  reason  with  the  sensible  forms,  and  erected  into 
the  structure  of  empirical  science.  Every  act  of  knowing 
implies  receptivity  from  this  dual  source  of  emanated 
forms — intelligible  and  substantial  forms :  a  curious  mix- 
ture of  Aristotelianism  with  Neo-Platonism. 

Averroes,  the  foremost  Arabic  exegete  of  Aristotle,  and 
one  of  the  most  important  intellectual  figures  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  regards  both  the  active  (intellectus  agens)  and  the 
passive  reason  (intellectus  materialis)  as  spiritual  entities 
distinct  from  the  body  and  from  each  other.  The  former's 
activity  consists  in  making  sensible  images  intelligible,  and 
thereby  moving  the   passive  reason.     The  passive  reason 


lxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

receives  the  phantasms  which  have  been  illuminated  and 
made  intelligible  by  the  active  reason.  This  dual  reason 
(consisting  of  two  separate  entities)  is  the  eternal  in  man  : 
while  the  other  powers  that  are  concerned  with  the  par- 
ticular originate  with  the  body  and  perish  with  the  body. 
In  the  interpretation  of  Avicenna,  on  the  contrary,  only 
the  creative  reason  is  eternal ;  while  the  passive  reason, 
depending  on  the  life  of  sense-experience,  perishes  with  the 
body.  In  the  interpretation  of  Averroes,  although  the 
reason  is  immortal,  individuality  ceases  with  death;  for 
differences  in  individuals  are  due  to  differences  in  their 
accumulated  sensible  images  and  phantasmata — in  the 
content  of  their  experience.  Rational  activity,  as  such,  is 
universally  the  same,  and  it  is  *only  this  universal,  non- 
individual  principle  of  reason  that  persists  after  death. 
All  individuals  are  alike  in  participating  in  one  rational 
life,  and  they  are  different  in  so  far  as  reason  has  a 
different  mass  of  images  to  illumine.  The  principle  of 
individuation  is  in  plastic  matter,  not  in  generic  form,  and 
reason  is  related  to  sensible  images  as  form  is  related  to 
matter. 

Trendelenburg,1  in  the  commentary  to  his  edition  of  the 
De  anima,  explains  the  passive  reason  as  the  sum  of  all 
the  lower  cognitive  faculties,  including  the  power  of 
sense-perception.  It  is  passive  because  it  stands  in  the 
relation  of  receptivity  to  the  object  of  cognition  and  is 
affected  by  it.  The  completion  of  its  processes  is,  however, 
obtained  only  through  the  agency  of  the  active  reason. 
The  derivation  of  the  universal  notion  from  particular 
1  Cf .  Commentary  on  De  an.  III. ,  §  5,  2  ff. 


CREATIVE    REASON  lxxv 

sensations  is  a  function  of  the  passive  reason,  in  so  far  as 
the  universal  notion  is  regarded  as  part  of  the  mind's 
content.  The  creative  reason  furnishes  the  ultimate  prin- 
ciples of  knowledge,  i.e.  it  contains  and  applies  the  standard 
of  truth  and  falsity  in  the  conceptual  world  as  the 
'  common  sense  '  passes  judgment  on  the  true  and  false  in 
perceptual  reality.1  The  creative  reason  is  not  the  divine 
spirit  (although  it  is  related  to  the  divine),  but  belongs  to 
the  individual,  and  is  not  the  same  in  all  men.  The  rela- 
tion between  the  divine  spirit  and  the  creative  reason  in 
man  is  nowhere  explained  by  Aristotle,  beyond  his  saying 
in  the  Metaphysics  that  they  are  analogous  principles.2 

Ravaisson,  in  his  Essai  stir  la  metaphysiquue  d'Aristote,2, 
says  that  the  individual  man,  according  to  Aristotle,  has 
only  passive  reason,  which  as  the  potentiality  of  all  forms 
and  ideas  is  analogous  to  primary  matter.  It  is  the  uni- 
versal potentiality  in  the  world  of  ideas.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  creative  activity  which  actualizes  possible  forms 
and  produces  all  thoughts  is  the  absolute  reason.  The 
sensible  and  the  passively  rational  are  fundamentally  the 
same ;  both  exist  in  a  single  consciousness,  and  are  operated 
on  by  the  active  reason.  The  entire  passive  reason  (and  so 
all  individuality)  is  mortal.  The  creative  reason  is  con- 
ceived by  Ravaisson  in  the  same  way  as  by  Alexander 
of  Aphrodisias.  Renan4  regards  Aristotle's  conception  of 
the  creative  reason  as  similar  to  Malebranche's  theory  of 
seeing  things  in  God, — a  conception  suggested  to  Aristotle, 
perhaps,  by  the  Anaxagorean  doctrine  of  Nous. 

1  Cf.  Aristotle,  De  insom.  4616  2  ff.  2  Metaph.  1072b  18  ff. 

3  Vol.  I.,  pp.  5S6fF.  4Brentano,  op.cit.,  p.  34. 


lxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

Zeller  considers  the  passive  reason  to  mean  the  "  sum  of 
those  faculties  of  representation  which  go  beyond  imagina- 
tion and  sensible  perception,  and  yet  fall  short  of  that 
higher  thought  which  has  found  peace  in  perfect  unity 
with  itself." x  It  does  not  include  the  powers  of  sense- 
perception,  as  Trendelenburg  thinks,  nor  is  it  identical 
with  "  fancy  as  the  seat  of  mental  pictures,"  as  Brentano 
supposes.2  Von  Hertling,  in  calling  the  passive  reason 
"  the  cognitive  faculty  of  the  sensitive  part," 3  would 
almost  seem  to  identify  it  with  the  sensus  communis. 
Zeller  rejects  these  and  all  other  explanations  of  Aristotle's 
theory,  and  wholly  abandons  the  reconciliation  of  the 
twofold  reason  in  one  personality.  He  further  considers 
it  entirely  unjustifiable,  even  in  Aristotle's  own  theory,  to 
apply  the  term  nous  to  the  '  passive  reason.'  Reason,  he 
says,  is  in  its  essence  "a  single  immediate  apprehension 
of  intelligible  reality,  constituting  one  indivisible  act," 4 
which  it  is  not  possible  to  interpret  in  terms  of  Aristotle's 
dual  theory. 

Wallace,  whose  interpretation  of  Aristotle  is  somewhat 
coloured  by  English  Hegelianism,  says  :  "  Aristotle  would 
seem  to  mean  that  while  our  intellectual  powers  are  on  the 
one  hand  merely  receptive — while  they  merely  elaborate 
and,  by  processes  of  discursive  thought,  systematize  the 
materials  of  thought — these  materials  of  thought  only 
become  so,  only  get  formed  into  an  intelligible  world,  by 
an  act  of  reason  which  has  gone  on  from  the  creation  of 

teller's  Aristotle,  Eng.  tr.,  Vol.  II.,  p.  102. 

2  Zeller,  op.  cit.,  II.,  p.  103.       3Von  Hertling,  Materie und Form,  p.  174. 

4 Zeller,  op.  cit.,  II.,  p.  105. 


CREATIVE    REASON  lxxvii 

the  world  and  is  in  turn  employed  by  each  of  us.  Shortly, 
then,  the  creative  reason  is  the  faculty  which  constantly 
interprets  and,  as  it  were,  keeps  up  an  intelligible  world 
for  experience  to  operate  upon,  while  the  receptive  reason 
is  the  intellect  applying  itself  in  all  the  various  processes 
which  fill  our  minds  with  the  materials  of  knowledge."  1 

The  foregoing  account  of  Aristotle's  theory  of  reason, 
as  interpreted  by  his  most  notable  commentators,  exhibits 
very  wide  differences  of  opinion.  This  great  diversity  is 
due  to  the  character  of  the  data  furnished  by  Aristotle 
— data  that  are  both  meagre  and  ambiguous,  precluding 
the  possibility  of  any  apodictic  formulation  of  his  doctrine. 
There  has  been  no  lack  of  ability  or  ingenuity  expended 
on  it.  It  is  entirely  hopeless,  in  my  opinion,  to  try  to 
discover  any  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  creative  reason 
in  the  scanty  passages  of  the  third  book  of  the  Be  anima, 
to  which  attention  has  been  too  exclusively  directed.  An 
explanation,  if  it  can  be  found  at  all,  can  be  found  only  in 
the  light  of  Aristotle's  general  system  of  philosophy,  and 
more  especially  in  the  light  of  his  complete  theory  of  know- 
ledge.    I  shall  proceed  at  once  to  make  my  meaning  plain. 

It  is  clear  that  the  theory  of  a  twofold  reason,  as  Aristotle 
held  it,  originated  partly  in  the  controversy  regarding  the 
distinction  between  conceptual  and  perceptual  knowledge, 
and  partly  in  Aristotle's  metaphysical  ideas  regarding  the 
distinction  between  form  and  matter.  The  controversy 
touching  conceptual  and  perceptual  knowledge  had  before 
Aristotle's  time  issued,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  extreme 
sensualism  of  the  Sophists,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the 
1  Wallace,  Aristotle's  Psychology,  p.  xcviii. 


lxxviii  INTRODUCTION 

extreme  rationalism  o£  Plato.  Between  these  two  Aristotle 
adopts  a  mediating  position  of  empiricism.  To  him  there 
are  no  innate  ideas,  and  no  body  of  rational  truth  totally 
independent  of  particular  reality.  All  knowledge  is  per- 
ceptually derived,  but  the  materials  of  perception  cannot 
be  converted  into  the  fabric  of  scientific  knowledge  or  into 
general  concepts  without  a  creative  and  supplementary 
act  of  reason.  For  Aristotle,  as  for  Kant,  conception  with- 
out perception  is  empty.  The  content  of  perception  is 
made  into  conceptual  knowledge  by  a  process  of  reason, 
and  in  this  sense  is  a  created  content.  Before  this  act 
takes  place,  the  content  of  mind  is  passive  matter  awaiting 
a  transforming  and  constructive  process.  At  this  point, 
Aristotle  applies  to  psychical  life  the  metaphysical  dualism 
under  which  he  views  the  entire  organic  world.  Active 
reason  stands  to  passive  reason  in  the  relation  of  form  to 
matter.1  His  metaphysics,  then,  and  the  distinction  between 
conceptual  and  perceptual  knowledge,  explain  the  genesis 
of  his  theory  of  a  twofold  reason.  The  creative  reason  is 
the  form-principle ;  the  pathic  reason  is  the  sum  of  matter 
that  is  formed  into  rational  significance.  Eeason  receives 
its  content  from  without;  in  other  words,  it  is  passive. 
However,  if  that  were  all,  reason  would  be  only  a  receptacle 
of  sensations,  perceptions,  memory-images,  and  phantasmata. 
But  transcending  these  pathic  elements,  reason  has  the 
informing  power  of  changing  their  potentiality  into  the 
highest  abstractions  and  most  general  notions  and  laws. 
In  this  way,  reason,  in  its  pathic  aspect,  becomes  or  receives 
all   reality;   while  in   its   active   character,  it  creates   all 

1  De  an.  430a  10  ff. 


CREATIVE    REASON  lxxix 

reality  by  bestowing  upon  it  a  rational  form.     Without  the 
latter  the  mind  would  be  a  mass  of  particulars,  of  unrelated 
manifold    things,   blind.      The   active   reason    creates   an 
intelligible  world  in  the  sense  of  constructing  its  intelligi- 
bility, while  its  real  content  is  given  in  the  materials  of  the 
passive    reason  which  are  delivered   from  without.      This 
content  is  potentially  conceptual.     The  creative  reason  is 
thus    primarily    without   content,    an   unwritten    tablet.1 
Between   conceptual   and   perceptual   knowledge,  between 
the  abstract  and  concrete,   there  is  not  for  Aristotle  the 
great  impassable  gulf  that  we  find  in  Plato's  epistemology. 
Although  the  discovery  of  the  universal  is  an  act  of  reason, 
yet  the   universal   is   potentially  and  immanently  in  the 
individual.     The  subject-matter  of  reason  is  the  immanent 
universal,  which  in  a  certain  sense  is  in  the  mind  itself.2 
Thought  and  sense-perception  are  neither  identical  nor  are 
they  to  be  completely  sundered.     Aristotle  sharply  criticises 
both   of   these  extremes  in   his  predecessors,  holding  the 
sophistic  sensualism  and  Platonic  rationalism  to  be  equally 
one-sided  and  erroneous.     In  thought  we  think,  it  is  true, 
what  is  potentially  given  in  perception,  and  yet  this  object 
of  thought  must  first  be  made  rational  by  a  creative  act  of 
reason.     Reason  creates  its  world  in  terms  of  itself  (i.e.  a 
rational   world);    and,   as    its   subject-matter    consists   of 
abstract  ideas,  it  thinks  itself,  and  subject  and  object  are 
identical.3     Aristotle  is  not  a  pure  empiricist,  although  in 
certain  passages  he  speaks  as  if  all  our  ideas  were  derived 
from  sense-perceptions4   and  apart   from  sense-perception 

1  De  an.  430a  1.  2  De  an.  4176  23. 

3  De  an.  429a  25,  430a  2,  4316  17.  4  De  an.  432a  2  ff. 


lxxx  INTRODUCTION 

there  were  no  reality.  In  the  Analytics,  however,  where 
he  gives  the  most  detailed  account  of  the  origin  of  our 
knowledge,  he  speaks  of  the  highest  principles  of  knowledge 
as  immediate  (to.  a/meo-a)  and  as  presupposed  by  mediately 
derived  knowledge,  being  the  latter 's  starting-point.1 
These  ultimate  principles  are  propositions  whose  predicates 
are  given  in  the  subject,  i.e.  '  analytical  a  priori  judg- 
ments.'2 This  knowledge  is,  however,  merely  potential 
(empty  conception)  until  applied  to  the  content  of  experi- 
ence. It  does  not  contain  any  positive  ideas,  but,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  principles  of  contradiction  and  excluded 
middle,  it  comes  to  consciousness  in  the  regulation  and 
determination  of  cognitive  data.  These  regulative,  axiomatic 
principles  are  formed  by  the  mind  out  of  itself.3  The 
content  of  the  concepts  arrived  at  by  induction,  or  by  an 
ascent  from  particular  to  general,  takes  the  form  of  mediate 
knowledge ;  and  the  most  universal  of  these  concepts  is 
only  a  "precipitate  of  a  progressively  refined  experience,, 
and  is  due  to  the  last  act  in  successive  generalizations  upon 
a  matter  given  in  experience."4  Ideas  derived  from  in- 
duction attain  a  degree  of  certainty  not  higher  than  the 
source  from  which  they  spring.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
ultimate  principles  (a/>xa0  °^  reason  are  necessarily  true,5 
and  such  knowledge  has  the  nature  of  an  "  intuition  as 
contrasted  with  sensible  perception."6  The  apodictic 
syllogism,  or  highest  form  of  scientific  truth,  proceeds  from 

1Ci.  Zeller's  Aristotle,  Eng.  tr.,   Vol.  I,  p.  197.     Also  Aristotle,  Anal, 
post.  866  36,  94a  9,  1086  8;  Eth.  nic.  1141a. 

2Zeller,  op.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  p.  198.  3  De  an.  429628  ff. 

4Zeller,  op.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  p.  201.  5  Aristotle,  Anal.  post.  1006  5  ff. 

6Zeller,  op.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  p.  202. 


CREATIVE   REASON  lxxxi 

these  ultimate  principles  as  premisses.  Induction,  proceed- 
ing from  the  particular,  is  clearer  to  us  because  individual 
things  of  sense  have  more  apparent  certainty.  Deduction 
and  induction  form  the  component  elements  of  scientific 
method,  but  the  function  of  the  former  is  higher,  being 
the  interpretation  of  phenomena  by  the  ultimate  principles 
both  of  knowledge  and  existence,  viz.,  by  universal  laws 
and  causes. 

Ultimate  principles  and  universal  forms  are  immanent 
both  in  the  mind  and  in  things.  They  are  not  mental 
categories  projected  upon  the  phenomenal  world,  but  are 
discovered  in  the  phenomenal  world  by  reason.  In  a  sense, 
reason  finds  itself  in  the  world,  and  the  fact  of  this  im- 
manent community  bridges  the  gulf  between  subject  and 
object.  On  the  plane  of  perceptual  knowledge,  the  passage 
between  subject  and  object  is  bridged  by  the  function  of 
the  central  sense,  which  is  the  active  principle  in  converting 
received  sensations  into  a  conscious  percept.  The  content 
of  the  central  sense — memory  and  phantasy — as  the  pathic 
material  of  reason,  is  in  turn  converted  into  the  form  of 
conceptual  knowledge  by  the  creative  activity  of  reason. 
Reason  has  no  bodily  organ,  and  so  operates  only  on 
psychical  elements,  and  not  on  elements  physiologically 
mediated.  Reason,  then,  confers  on  a  potentially  rational 
world  its  actually  rational  existence;  and,  moreover,  in 
thinking  the  actually  rational,  it  thinks  itself.  Without 
the  active  reason  the  conceptual  world  would  be  no  more 
known  in  thought  than  the  visible  world  would  be  seen 
without   light.1      As    light   makes    colour    visible,  so   the 

1  De  an.  430a  15. 

/ 


lxxxii  INTRODUCTION 

creative  reason  makes  the  the  universal  forms  intelligible. 
Or,  to  use  another  analogy  employed  by  Aristotle,  the 
creative  reason  operates  on  the  content  of  perceptual  con- 
sciousness as  an  artist  operates  on  his  raw  materials.1  The 
two  main  stages  in  the  process  of  knowledge,  perception 
and  conception,  are  supplementary.  Thought,  on  the  one 
hand,  requires  a  sensuous  image,2  and  perception,  on  the 
other,  remains  on  a  brute  level  when  not  illuminated  and 
elevated  into  conceptual  form  by  reason. 

The  creative  reason  is  akin  to  the  divine.  Corresponding 
with  his  metaphysical  conception  of  the  divine  in  the 
universe,  Aristotle  regards  the  creative  reason  as  the  divine 
in  the  microcosm.  It  is  no  part  of  the  entelechy  of  the 
body,  but  is  transcendent  (xoopio-ros,  i.e.  it  has  no  bodily  organ 
and  is  separable  from  organic  life)  and  it  enters  the  body 
from  without  (6vpa6ei>)?  It  acts,  however,  on  the  rational 
life  of  the  organism,  but  it  acts  as  the  '  unmoved  mover,' 
who  is  immanent  in  the  world  without  being  a  part  of  it. 
The  creative  reason  is  not  developed  with  the  body,  but 
enters  the  psychical  element  (whose  immediate  corporeal 
embodiment  is  the  warm  air  or  pneuma  in  the  seed)  at  the 
moment  of  conception.  Conception  is  the  occasion,  not  the 
cause,  of  its  entering  into  the  womb.4  The  question,  how- 
ever, touching  the  preexistence  and  immortality  of  the 
soul  is  scarcely  more  than  mentioned  by   Aristotle,   and, 

1  De  an.  430a  12.  2De  an.  431a  17,  432a  8  ;  De  mem.  4496  30. 

3  De  gener.  anim.  7366  27  ff. 

4  De  gener.  anim.  737a  5  ff.  Granger  in  a  valuable  article  in  Mind  (Vol. 
18,  New  Series,  Vol.  2,  1893,  p.  317)  thinks  that  a  universal  reason  in 
Aristotle's  psychology  can  be  spoken  of  only  in  the  sense  in  which  one 
speaks  of  "a  universal  humanity."  Cf.  the  same  writer  in  the  Classical 
Review,  Vol.  VI.,  pp.  298  ff. 


CREATIVE   REASON  lxxxiii 

indeed,  it  hardly  falls  within  the  scope  of  his  psychology, 
which  is  an  essentially  biological  discussion.  It  is  only  in 
treating  of  the  nature  of  reason  that  he  goes  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  empiricism  and  makes  concession  to  the 
traditional  view  of  the  divine  origin  of  the  noetic  power — 
a  concession  that  may  have  been  prompted  by  his  analo- 
gous view  of  the  Prime  Mover  as  the  transcendent  cosmic 
reason.  Aristotle  constructs  his  psychology,  as  he  does  his 
entire  system  of  philosophy,  on  the  basis  of  the  deliverances 
of  the  special  sciences  of  his  day — deliverances  which  were 
penetrated  and  interpreted  by  his  unifying  and  organizing 
spirit.  As  Romanes  says,  "  instead  of  giving  his  fancy  free 
rein  '  upon  the  high  a  priori  road,'  he  patiently  plods  the 
way  of  detailed  research."  1  Yet,  after  he  has  completely 
examined  the  data  and  psychical  mechanism  of  empirical 
knowledge,  he  finds  them  inadequate  to  explain  the  whole 
of  reality,  and  is  forced  to  introduce  a  rational  ego  to 
explain  the  potential  rationality  of  pathic  experience. 
This  noetic  principle  which  rationalizes  experience  is  in  no 
wise  connected  with  the  physical  organism,  *and  as  it  is 
not  a  part  of  the  latter  s  entelechy,  so  it  does  not  perish 
with  its  dissolution.2  It  is  the  a  priori  condition  of  all 
rational  knowledge,  and,  as  such,  it  is  not  individual. 
Receptive  or  pathic  reason,3  on  the  other  hand,  is  simply 

1  Contemporary  Eevietv,  Vol.  59,  p.  284.  a  De  an.  408&  18,  4136  20  ff. 

3  No  one  familiar  with  Aristotle's  use  of  terms,  will  discover  an  objection 
in  his  applying  two  designations  to  the  same  thing,  viz.  to  his  calling  the 
sum  of  perceptual  experience  now  sensus  communis,  and  again  passive 
reason.  For  as  completed  sense-experience,  the  sensus  communis  is  form 
{ei8os),  and  as  the  raw  material  for  some  higher  development  it  is  poten- 
tiality {v\r)).  That  higher  development  is  reason,  which  the  common 
sense  is  potentially. 


lxxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

the  life  of  sensation  as  a  potentially  rational  mass,  and  is 
connected  with  the  physical  organism,  with  which  it 
perishes.1  Primarily,  the  creative  reason  is,  as  above  noted, 
without  content ;  it  is  an  unwritten  tablet  (ypa/uLimaTeiov).2 
Its  content  is  given  in  the  passive  reason,  which  is  stored 
with  phantasmata  ultimately  derived  from  sense  and  the 
free  construction  of  imagination.  Strictly  speaking,  the 
active  reason  does  not  think  things,  it  does  not  create  de 
novo;  it  merely  interprets  things,  or  rationalizes  pheno- 
mena, by  its  spontaneous  activity.3  Nevertheless,  we  have 
here  not  merely  that  which  is  given  in  sense-experience, 
but  a  new  element,  rationally  derived,  a  new  significance. 
Passive  reason  rises  no  higher  than  the  deliverances  of 
sense-perception  and  their  re- wrought  form  in  memory  and 
phantasy.  The  sum  of  these  is  the  sum  of  the  content  of 
the  sensus  communis ;  this  sum,  regarded  as  potentiality,  is 
the  passive  reason,  on  which  the  active  reason  operates  in 
the  creation  of  a  rational  and  conceptual  world.  The 
creative  reason  does  not,  indeed,  think  anything  apart 
from  the  passive  reason,4  because  without  images  derived 
from  experience  thought  has  no  content  and  nothing  to 
interpret  or  illumine.  Its  activity,  however,  is  continuous,5 
because  its  subject-matter,  unlike  a  sense-object,  is  always 
present.  Further,  as  the  universal  reason,  it  is  as  eternal 
and  continuous  as  is  the  intelligibility  of  the  eternal  world.6 

1  De  an.  430a  25.  2  De  an.  430a  1. 

3  Cf .  Scotus  :  ' '  nullus  intellectus  intelligit,  nisi  intellectus  possibilis.  .  .  . 
[intellectus  agens]  non  intelligit,  sed  intelligere  facit."  Quoted  by  Schlott- 
mann  in  Das  Vergangliche  unci  Unvergangliche  in  d.  menschlichen  Seele 
nach  Arist.  p.  48. 

4  De  an.  430a  25.  6  De  an.  430a  22.  ti  De  ccelo,  2796  12. 


CREATIVE    REASON  lxxxv 

Wo  do  not  remember 1  the  processes  of  the  active  reason — 
an  understanding  of  which  in  the  individual  is  arrived  at 
only  by  analysis  —  because  it  is  without  passivity,  and 
memory  is  a  passive  power. 

Aristotle  describes  the  creative  reason  (I  draw  from 
various  passages)  as  follows :  it  is  unmixed,  transcendent, 
passionless,  of  divine  nature,  it  suffers  no  change,  is  not 
born,  it  has  no  bodily  organ,  enters  the  body  from  without, 
and  is  immortal.2  The  question  of  the  reason's  transcend- 
ence and  immortality,  although  metaphysically  interesting, 
has  little  epistemological  significance,  and  Aristotle  scarcely 
does  more  than  raise  the  question,  and  while  he  espouses 
the  view  of  transcendence  and  immortality,  he  does  so 
hesitatingly  and  without  dogmatism.  Transcendence,  in- 
deed, would  seem  to  have  no  legitimate  place  in  his 
biological  view  of  the  soul  and  to  be  irreconcilable  with 
his  definition  of  yfrv\ri  as  "  entelechy  of  the  body."  It  is  a 
survival  of  the  Platonic  transcendentalism,  with  which 
Aristotle  had  been  imbued  during  his  life  in  the  Academy, 
and  whose  spell  he  never  quite  shook  off, — a  thing  to  be 
set  down  to  his  credit. 

In  the  foregoing  account  of  Aristotle's  theory  of  reason 
I  have  endeavoured  to  show  how  his  employment  of  the 
terms  '  form '  and  '  matter '  and  his  criticism  of  the 
Socratic-Sophistic  controversy  regarding  conceptual  and 
perceptual  knowledge  can  be  made  to  supplement  certain 
dark  passages  in  the  De  anima  and  the  Analytics,  and  how 

1  De  an.  430a  23. 

-De  an.  408618-29,  413624,  430a  12 ff.;  Eth.  nic.  1177a  15;  De  gen. 
anim.  736615  ff. 


lxxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

these  various  elements  can  be  combined  into  an  intelligible 
and  consistent  interpretation.  Briefly  summarized,  this 
interpretation  is  as  follows :  Aristotle  adopted  a  mediating 
position  between  the  ultra-sensualism  of  the  Sophists  and 
the  ultra-rationalism  of  Plato.  The  totality  of  knowledge 
is  neither  purely  empirical  nor  purely  rational,  but  a  com- 
posite {avvoXov,  as  is  every  other  combination  of  '  form '  and 
'  matter ')  of  sense  experience  and  rational  activity.  In  this 
composite,  rational  activity  is  related  to  sense-experience  as 
elSog  is  related  to  uXrj.  The  sum  of  sense-data  constitutes  the 
potentiality  of  reason,  i.e.  it  constitutes  the  passive  reason, 
while  their  construction  into  actual  rational  significance 
constitutes  the  activity  of  creative  reason ;  the  real  content 
is  given  in  the  former,  the  formal  content  in  the  latter. 
The  content,  therefore,  of  the  sensus  communis  regarded  as 
rational  potentiality  is  the  vov$  iraOtjriKog ;  the  power  which 
converts  this  potentiality  into  actual  rational  forms  or 
meanings  is  the  vovg  ttouitikos.  This  conversion  is  identical 
with  the  erection  of  perceptual  materials  into  a  world  of 
concepts  and  laws.  The  subject-matter  of  reason  is  an 
immanent  universal, — immanent  at  once  in  perceptual 
reality  and  in  the  reason  itself.  The  process  which  the 
reason  undergoes  in  discovering  the  universal  is,  therefore, 
the  process  of  finding  itself  in  the  world.  The  conception 
of  an  equivalence  between  the  universal  forms  existing  in 
the  mind  and  universal  forms  immanent  in  nature  bridged 
for  Aristotle  the  gulf  between  subject  and  object, — two 
aspects  of  reality  which  he  regarded  as  formally  identical. 


ABBREVIATIONS. 

[         ]  =  words  regarded  by  Biehl  as  not  belonging  to  the  text  and  to 
be  deleted. 

([        ])  =  words  inserted  by  the  translator. 

The  marginal  references,  e.g.  402a,  are  to  the  pagination  (with  column 
a  or  b)  of  the  Berlin  (quarto)  edition.  The  other  marginal  references,  e.g. 
2,  3,  4,  are  to  the  sections  in  the  chapters  of  the  Oxford  (octavo)  edition. 


ARISTOTLE'S  PSYCHOLOGY. 

(DE  ANIMA.) 

BOOK   THE  FIRST.1 

CHAPTEE  I. 

We  regard  knowledge  as  a  good  and  precious  thing,  but  402  a 
we    esteem    one    sort   of   knowledge   more    highly   than 

1  Bonitz  regards  the  various  chapters  of  De  an.  Bk.  I.  as  Aristotle's, 
although  he  thinks  that  the  order  in  which  they  are  placed  is  due 
to  another  hand  {Monatsbericht  der  Kbnigl.  Preuss.  Akad.  d.  Wiss., 
1873,  p.  481).  The  authenticity  of  Bks.  I.  and  II.  has  never 
been  seriously  questioned.  Bk.  III.,  however,  was  held  by  Weisse 
to  be  spurious  {Aristoteles  von  der  Seele,  pp.  278  flf.),  but  no  scholar 
now,  to  my  knowledge,  accepts  his  view.  The  Aristotelian  canon 
is  much  less  questionable  than  the  Platonic,  and,  as  far  as  the 
acroamatic  writings  are  concerned,  has  always  remained  compara- 
tively fixed.  The  objection  of  Bonitz  to  Bk.  I.  scarcely  means 
more  than  that  its  Aristotelian  content  was  subjected  to  editorial 
arrangement,  which  was  not  always  skilful, — a  criticism  that  may  be 
applied  to  every  other  treatise  in  the  Opera.  To  attempt  to  determine 
how  much  latitude  Andronicus  and  the  succeeding  editors  allowed 
themselves,  is  merely  to  speculate.  All  of  the  works,  without  exception, 
are  fragmentary  and  ill  put  together,  but  this  has  been  explained 
generally  by  the  time-honoured  hypothesis  (and  still  the  most  reason- 
able one)  that  the  writings  of  Aristotle,  as  we  have  them,  are  lecture- 
notes  or  perhaps  sketches  for  treatises,  which  he  never  put  into 
finished  form,  the  last  part  of  his  life  being  disturbed  by  quasi- 
religious  persecution  and  spent  practically  in  exile. 

A 


2  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

another  either  because  of  the  acumen1  required  for  its 
discovery,  or  because  it  is  concerned  with  better  and 
more  admirable  objects :  for  both  these  reasons  we 
should  rightly  assign  the  investigation  of  the  soul 2  to  the 
first  rank.  Further,  it  is  supposed  that  a  knowledge  of 
the  soul  has  an  important  bearing  on  all  truth,  and  par- 
ticularly on  that  of  the  natural  world.  For  the  soul  is, 
2  as  it  were,  the  genetic  principle  3  in  living  things.      Our 

1  This  meaning  of  /car'  &Kpl[3eiai>  appears  to  be  the  only  one  admissible 
in  the  context.  Cf.  Passow,  sub  voc.  The  meaning  which  the  term 
has  when  applied  to  metaphysical  or  abstract  subjects  {Eth.  nic.  1141a 
16;  Metaph.  982a  25,  1078a  10;  Anal.  post.  86a  17),  viz.,  'exacti- 
tude '  in  the  sense  of  '  finally  true '  or  truth  deduced  from  the  first 
principles  of  reality,  is  not  applicable  here.  Aristotle  regards  the 
materials  of  psychology  as  belonging  to  the  natural  and  organic  world, 
which  to  him  is  never  the  realm  of  necessary  or  exact  truth.  'A/cpt/3eia 
in  the  ordinary  sense  of  '  precision '  is  ascribed  to  the  mathematical 
disciplines  in  varying  degrees  {Met.  1053a  1,  995a  15;  Anal.  post.  87a 
35),  but  this  sense  is  also  inadmissible  here  (cf.  402a  11).  In  addition 
to  those  meanings  which  refer  to  the  science  itself,  the  word  also  has  a 
signification  which  refers  to  the  demand  made  by  the  science  on  the 
investigator,  viz.,  'painstaking  accuracy,'  or  'acumen'  (' Scharfsinn,' 
Passow).  In  the  present  passage  this  appears  to  be  the  only  usable 
meaning.  Vid.  Wallace,  Aristotle's  Psychology,  p.  196 ;  Trendelenburg, 
Arist.  Be  an.  2nd  ed.  p.  156. 

2i/uXV  ('soul,'  'life,'  'mind,')  is  generally  translated  in  the  following 
pages  by  'soul.'  For  a  discussion  of  its  meanings  in  Aristotle's 
writings  vid.  Introduction,  Chap.  i. 

s>Apxn  (principium)  is  included  amongst  the  notions  defined  by 
Aristotle  in  his  philosophical  dictionary  (Metaph.  Bk.  V.).  Through 
him  it  became  a  philosophical  term  of  the  first  importance,  and  has  con- 
tinued so  to  the  present  time.  In  the  sense  of  element  (<xtolx^ov)  we 
find  it  in  use  as  early  as  Anaximander.  The  meanings  enumerated  in 
the  Metaphysics  are  :  In  reference  to  ( 1 )  space  and  time  =  beginning  ; 
(2)  methods  elementary  steps  in  learning;  (3)  the  physical  =  basis  ;  (4) 
the  genetic  =  the  moving  cause;  (5)  the  political  =  primary  authority; 
(6)  knowledge  = principium  cognoscendi,  as  e.g.  the  premises  of  a 
syllogism.  The  scholastics  included  these  several  meanings  under 
principium  essendi  and  principium  cognoscendi,  for  which  Aristotle  has  the 
corresponding  expression,  tov  yv&vai  /cat  ttjs  Ktvrjcrews  dpxv  {Met.  1013a  22). 


bk.  i.  ch.  i.         METHODS   OF   INVESTIGATION  3 

aim  is  to  investigate  and  ascertain  the{  essential  nature  ) 
of  the  soul,  and,  secondly,  to  discover  those  properties 
which  attach  to  it  as  accidents.  Certain  of  the  latter 
are  supposed  to  be  conditions  peculiar  to  the  soul's  own 
nature,  and  others  are  thought  to  be  effects  produced  in 
living  beings  by  the  soul's  agency. 

Now,  it  is  altogether  the  most  difficult  problem  3 
to  arrive  at  any  fixed  belief  touching  the  soul.  From 
the  fact  that  the  problem  is  one  which  is  common 
to  other  subjects — I  mean  the  problem  of  finding  the 
essence  and  real  definition  1  of  a  thing — it  might  perhaps 
appear  to  some  that  there  is  a  single  scientific  method 
which  applies  to  everything  whose  essence  we  wish  to 
discover,  as  deductive  proof  applies  to  accidental  pro- 
perties. We  shall,  therefore,  be  obliged  to  make  inquiry 
into  this  question  of  scientific  method.  But  if  there  is  4 
no  single  and  general  method  which  applies  to  the 
ultimate  nature  of  things,  our  investigation  becomes  in 
that  case  all  the  more  difficult.  And  even  if  the 
question  of  method  were  cleared  up,  whether  its  form 
be  that  of  deductive  proof,  or  analysis,  or  some  other 
procedure,  there  still  remains  a  question  of  great  diffi- 
culty and  uncertainty,  viz.  from  what  principles  are 
we  to  start  our  inquiry  ?  For  different  principles  are 
employed  in  different  subjects,  as  e.g.  in  numbers2  and 
in  plane  surfaces. 

The   first   necessity,   perhaps,   is   to   determine   under  5 

1  For  the  meaning  of  to  t'i  £<tti  see  Schwegler's  classic  excursus  in 
his  Die  Metaphysik  des  Aristoteles,  Bk.  IV.,  pp.  369  ff.  Also  Trendelen- 
burg in  fiheinisch.es  Museum,  1828,  pp.  457  ff. 

2  The  different  principles  employed  by  arithmetic  and  geometry  are 
the  unit  and  extension. 


4  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

what  genus  soul  is  to  be  classified  and  what  its  nature  is 

— I  mean  by  this  the  question  whether  it  is  an  individual 

thing  and  self-subsisting  entity,  or  whether  it  is  a  quality 

or  a  quantity  or  classifiable  in  one  of  the  other    cate- 

.     gories  1  already  enumerated,  and  further,  whether  it  is  a 

\     potentiality 2  or  rather  an  actuality.     For  this  makes  no  dxX 

402  b  slight  difference.     We  must    also   inquire    whether    the  * 

6  soul  is  divisible  or  whether  it  is  without  parts ;  whether 
it  is  an  entirety  of  one  sort  or  not.  And  if  it  is  not  of 
one  sort,  we  must  further  ask  whether  the  differences  are 
specific  or  generic.  For  nowadays  the  men  3  who  discuss 
and  investigate  the  soul  appear  to  direct  their  inquiries 

7  merely  to  the  human  soul.  We  must  take  pains  to  see 
whether  there  is  a  single  definition  that  applies  to  the 
soul,  just  as  e.g.  there  is  a  single  definition  that  applies  to 
animal,  or  whether  a  different  definition  is  required  for 
each  kind  of  soul,  just  as  a  different  definition  is  required 
for  horse,  dog,  man,  god,  and  we  must  further  inquire 
whether  the  common  notion  '  animal ' 4  either  is  nothing 

1  The  categories  or  forms  under  which  Being  is  known,  are  enumerated 
in  the  Toxica  (103&  22)  as  follows  :  1.  Substance,  2.  Quantity,  3. 
Quality,  4.  Relation,  5.  Place,  6.  Time,  7.  Position,  8.  Possession,  9. 
Activity,  10.  Passivity.  All  of  them  are  reducible  to  subject  [bvofxa, 
corresponding  to  the  category  of  '  substance ')  and  predicate  {prjixa., 
corresponding  to  the  nine  remaining  categories). 

2  For  an  explanation  of  the  terms  potentiality  and  actuality  vid.  note 
1,  p.  42. 

3  It  is  not  known  to  whom  reference  is  made  here.  Simplicius 
{Comment,  in  lib.  De  an.  ad  loc.)  thinks  the  Timaeus  is  referred  to, 
which  is  hardly  possible  owing  to  Plato's  treatment  of  the  world-soul. 
Nor  is  it  easy  to  see  how  Wallace  (translating  vvv  ixev  by  "at  present" 
as  he  does),  can  suppose  the  reference  is  to  the  older  physiologers. 

4  The  question  as  to  the  nature  of  universals,  which  divided  the 
Mediaeval  Nominalists  and  Realists,  was  here  clearly  raised  by 
Aristotle.      Vid.  Simplicius,  Commentary  ad  loc. 


bk.  i.  ch.  i.  METHODS    OF   INVESTIGATION  5 

at  all  or  else  comes  into  existence  only  after  the  indi- 
vidual,— a  question   that   might   equally  well   be  raised 
regarding  any  other  general  notion.      If,  however,  there 
are  not  several  souls,  but  only  parts  of  a  single  soul,  then 
the  further  question  arises  whether  we  should  examine 
the  soul  as  a  whole  before  we  examine  the  parts.      It  8 
is   also   hard   to   determine  which  of   these   parts   is  in 
its   nature    different    from    the    other    and   whether   we 
should  first  investigate  the  part  or  the  part's  function, 
e.g.  whether  we   should    first   investigate   the  process  of 
thought  or  the   faculty  of  thought,  sense-perception  or 
the  organ  of  sense-perception ;  the  same  question  applies 
to  other  cases.      Now,  supposing  that  the  functions  take 
precedence  of  the  faculties  in  the  order  of  investigation, 
a  further  question  might  arise  here  as  to  whether  the 
complements  of  the  faculties  should  be  investigated  before 
the  faculties  themselves,  e.g.  whether  the  investigation  of 
the  sensible  object  should  precede  the  investigation  of  the 
sense-organ,  and  the  object  of  thought  precede  the  faculty 
of   thought.      Not    only    does    the    knowledge     of    the  9 
essential  nature  of  a  thing  seem  to  be  helpful  towards 
the  understanding  of  the  accidental  nature  and  properties 
of  substances,  just  as  in  mathematics  the  knowledge  of 
the  essential   nature   of  straight   or  curved  or  of  a  line 
or  surface  is  helpful  in  understanding  how  many  right 
angles  are  contained  in   the    angles   of  a   triangle,   but 
conversely,  the  knowledge   of  accidental  properties  con- 
tributes  largely   to   the  understanding  of  what  a  thing 
essentially    is.       For    when    we    are    able    to    give    an 
account  of  the  accidental  properties  of  things,  as  we  see 
them, — either  of  all  these  properties  or  of  most  of  them, 


6  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

— then  we  are  best  able  to  speak  also  of  their  essential 
nature.  For  the  essential  nature  is  the  true  starting- 
point  in  all  deductive  proof.  And  so  in  the  case  of 
definitions  where  not  only  no  knowledge  of  the  accidental 
properties  is  furnished,  but  where  it  is  not  easy  even  to 
403^  conjecture  what  these  properties  are,  it  is  evident  that 
all  such  definitions  are  framed  after  the  fashion  of 
dialectics  1  and  are  void. 

10  A  further  difficulty  presents  itself  regarding  the 
affections  of  the  soul,  viz.  whether  all  these  affections 
are  common  to  the  soul  and  to  the  body  which  contains 
it,  or  whether  there  is  a  something  that  is  the  exclusive 
property  of  the  soul.     And  it  is  necessary,  though  not 

ii  easy,  to  solve  this   difficulty.       In  most  cases  the  soul 
apparently  neither  acts  nor  is  acted  upon  independently 
of  the  body,  e.g.  in  the  feelings  of  anger,  courage,  desire,  <t/vu*W 
or   in   a   word   in   sense-perception.      Thought,   however, »  ^  Jb^ 
appears   to   be  a  (function)  which  more  than   any  other  j -b^" 
ij_Jth^_ej^ckisiye_ property of  the  souL,     But  if  thought] 
is  a  sort  of  representation  in  terms  of  a  sense-image,  or^t^\ 
is  impossible  without  this,  then  even  thought  could  not  )^\ 

12  exist  independently  of  the  body.  If,  then,  there  were 
any  function  or  affection  of  the  soul  that  were  peculiar 
to  it,  it  would  be  possible  for  the  soul  to  exist  separate 
and  apart  from  the  body.2     If,  however,  there  is  nothing 

lI.e.  distinctions  thus  made  are  merely  verbal  or  eristic  and  have  no 
real  content. 

2  The  difficult  question  as  to  whether  the  soul  is  capable  of  existing 
separately  from  the  body  is  not  very  clearly  or  definitely  answered 
by  Aristotle.  According  to  Aristotle's  classic  definition,  the  soul  is 
the  "entelechy  of  a  body  endowed  with  the  capacity  of  life."  From 
this  definition  one  would  conclude  that  the  soul  cannot  exist  apart  from 


bk.  i.  ch.  i.         SEPARABILITY   OF   THE   SOUL  7 

which  is  its  exclusive  property,  it  cannot  exist  apart,  but 
the  case  is  similar  to  that  of  a  straight  line,  which,  as 
straight,  has  many  properties,  e.g.  contact  with  a  bronze 
globe  at  a  given  point,  although  the  quality  'straight,' 
apart  from  some  body,  does  not  touch  the  globe.  For 
it  has  no  abstract  existence,  as  it  is  always  conjoined 
with  some  body.  The  same  thing  seems  to  hold  good  13 
of  the  properties  of  the  soul :  courage,  gentleness,  fear, 
pity,  audacity,  also  joy,  love,  hate ;  they  are  all  associated 
with  the  body.  For  along  with  these  psychical  con- 
ditions the  body  is  also  somewhat  affected.  A  proof  14 
of  this  is  the  fact  that  sometimes  when  great  and 
palpable  misfortunes  have  befallen  a  man,  he  is  not  at 
all  excited  or  moved  to  fear ;  on  the  other  hand,  one  is 
sometimes  aroused  by  slight  and  insignificant  mishaps, 
and  then  the  body  swells  in  rage  and  is  in  the  same 
condition  as  when  a  man  is  stirred  in  anger.  But  this 
statement  receives  still  more  support  from  the  fact  that 
when  nothing  has  happened  which  could  awaken  fear, 
men  exhibit  those  emotions  which  characterize  a  man 
in  fright.     And   if  this  is  true,  it   is  evident  that   the  15 

the  body,  although  it  is  not  itself  corporeal.  It  is  that  which  gives 
to  a  particular  body  its  individuality  and  meaning,  and  it  consists  of 
the  following  elements  :  power  of  nutrition,  self -movement,  sensation, 
memory,  emotion,  imagination,  and  reason.  Amongst  these  functions 
of  the  soul,  reason  is  peculiar  to  man,  although  reason  in  its  passive 
form  is  based  on  sensible  experience  and  is  conjoined  with  the  life  of 
the  body.  There  is,  however,  a  further  form  of  reason,  which  Aristotle 
characterizes  as  active  reason  (vovs  ttoitjtlkos),  whose  existence  is  entirely 
separable  from  the  body,  and  is  immortal  {De  an.  403a  23).  This  form 
of  reason  is  concerned  with  intuition  or  immediately  apprehended 
truth,  while  the  passive  reason  is  occupied  with  mediated  truth.  There 
seems,  however,  to  be  no  place  for  the  former  in  Aristotle's  definition 
of  the  soul  cited  above.  Cf.  Introduction,  On  the  Active  and  Passive 
Reason. 


8  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

emotions  are  ideas  which  find  expression  in  the  body. 
So  that  we  have,  for  example,  such  definitions  as  the 
following :  "  Anger  is  a  kind  of  movement  of  such  and 
such  a  body,  or  part,  or  faculty,  under  this  or  that 
stimulus  and  due  to  this  or  that  motive."  It  is  for 
this  reason  that  the  study  of  the  soul  belongs  to  the 
province  of  the  natural  philosopher,  either  the  soul  in  its 
entirety  or  such  part  of  it  as  has  to  do  with  the  body. 

1 6  But  the  naturalist  and  the  speculative  philosopher  would 
frame  their  definitions  severally  from  different  stand- 
points. For  example,  in  reply  to  the  question  "  What 
is  anger  ? "  the  speculative  philosopher  says  it  is  the 
desire  of  retaliation  or  something  of  that  sort,  the 
naturalist  says  it  is  the  seething  of  the  pericordial  blood 

403  b  or  heat ;  the  one  has  furnished  in  his  answer  the  matter, 

17  the  other  the  form  or  reason,  of  the  thing.  For  the 
notion  is  the  form  of  a  thing,  and  it  is  necessary  that 
this  notion  be  embodied  in  a  particular  matter,  if  it  is 
to  exist.  For  instance,  the  notion  of  a  house  is  that 
of  a  shelter,  to  protect  us  against  injury  from  wind  and 
rain  and  heat;  the  natural  philosopher,  however,  will 
call  it  stones  and  bricks  and  wood,  while  the  other 
grasps  the  notion  embodied  in  these  things  and  for  which 

18  they  exist.  Which  of  these,  now,  is  the  real  physical 
philosopher  %  Is  it  the  one  who  busies  himself  with 
the  matter,  but  is  ignorant  of  the  notion  ?  or  is  it  the 
inquirer  who  is  occupied  with  the  notion  alone  ?  I 
answer,  it  is  rather  the  man  who  combines  both  of 
these  characters.  But  what  is  the  genius  of  each  of 
these  two  men  ?  Surely  there  is  nobody  who  concerns 
himself  merely  with   the  properties  of  matter  that   are 


bk.  i.  ch.  i.        RELATION   OF   SOUL   TO   BODY  9 

inseparable  and  merely  as  inseparable ;  but  the  physical 
philosopher  has  to  do  with  all  the  functions  and  qualities 
of  body  and  matter  which  are  of  such  and  such  a  kind. 
Such  properties  as  are  not  subject-matter  for  the  natural 
philosopher,  are  dealt  with  by  someone  else,  in  certain 
instances  by  a  professor  of  one  of  the  arts,  perhaps,  as 
e.g.  by  a  builder  or  by  a  physician.  But  in  the  case 
of  properties  which  are  inseparable,  although  they  attach 
to  no  particular  body  and  may  be  abstractly  regarded, 
with  these  the  mathematician  is  concerned ;  and  in 
so  far  as  the  qualities  are  regarded  as  abstract  or 
transcendent  entities,  the  metaphysician  is  concerned 
with  them.  But  we  must  now  return  to  the  point  from 
which  our  discussion  digressed.  We  were  saying  that 
the  properties  of  the  soul  do  not  exist  apart  from  the 
physicdjna^  things,  in  which  such  qualities 

jis_couTage_and  fear  are  expressed,  and  are  not  to  be 
regarded  as  a  line  or  surface. 


CHAPTER  II. 

In  our  inquiry  into  the  soul  it  is  necessary  for  us,  as  we 
proceed,  to  raise  such  questions  as  demand  answers ;  we 
must  collect  the  opinions  of  those  predecessors1  who 
have  had  anything  to  say  touching  the  soul's  nature,  in 
order  that  we  may  accept  their  true  statements  and  be 

2  on  our  guard  against  their  errors.  The  initial  step  in  our 
inquiry  will  be  to  set  forth  those  attributes  which  are 
currently  supposed  to  inhere  in  the  soul's  nature.  Ani- 
mate nature  is  thought  to  be  different  from  the  inanimate 
mainly  in  two  particulars,  viz.  in  movement  and  sense- 
perception.  And  these,  I  may  say,  are  the  two 
traditional  characteristics  of  the  soul  which  we  have 
received  from  earlier  writers.  Some  of  these  writers, 
indeed,  affirm  that  motion  is  the  first  and  foremost 
characteristic  of  the  soul,  and  in  the  belief  that  what,  is 
itself  unmoved  cannot  impart  motion  to  anything  else, 

3  they  suppose  that  the  soul  is  a  moving   entity.      This 
404 «  is  the  reason  why  Democritus  declares  the  soul  to  be  a 

sort  of  fire  or  warm  element.     He  asserts  that,  although 

1  Aristotle   begins    here    the   first    extant   history   of   psychological 

opinion. 

10 


bk.  i.  ch.  ii.  HISTORY   OF   THEORIES  11 

atomic  structures  are  infinite  in  variety,  both  fire  and 
soul  are  composed  of  spherical  atoms,  similar  to  the 
particles,  as  we  call  them,  seen  in  the  air  when  sun- 
beams stream  through  a  doorway,  and  these  atoms,  as 
collective  seed-particles,  he  calls  the  elements  of  the 
universe.  Leucippus  also  holds  a  similar  view.  It  is  the  4 
spherical  atoms,  he  says,  that  constitute  the  soul,  because 
such  forms  can  most  easily  penetrate  through  everything, 
and,  being  themselves  in  motion,  can  move  everything 
else,  the  theory  of  these  philosophers  being  that  the  soul 
is  the  principle  which  imparts  motion  to  animals.  It  is  5 
for  this  reason  too  that  they  regard  respiration  as  the 
function  that  fixes  life's  limit.  They  think  that  the 
surrounding  air  presses  together  and  expels  the  atomic 
bodies,  which,  because  they  are  themselves  never  at  rest, 
impart  motion  to  animals,  but  that  relief  comes  through 
respiration,  because  similar  particles  thereby  enter  into 
the  body  from  without.  These  latter,  by  restraining  the 
contracting  and  condensing  element,  prevent  the  spherical 
atoms  which  are  already  in  animals  from  being  entirely 
expelled.  So  long  as  they  can  do  this,  life  continues. 
The  theory  which  has  been  handed  down  from  the  6 
Pythagoreans  appears  to  have  the  same  import.  For 
some  members  of  this  school  maintain  that  the  sun-motes 
in  the  air  are  the  soul ;  others  declare  that  the  soul  is 
the  principle  which  sets  these  in  motion.  They  refer  to 
these  particles  in  their  theory,  because  the  particles 
appear  to  be  in  constant  motion,  even  when  there  is  a 
complete  calm.  The  philosophers  who  regard  the  soul 
as  a  self-moved  principle  come  to  the  same  conclusion. 
For  they  all  seem  to  regard  motion  as  the  most  char-  7 


12  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

acteristic  attribute  of  the  soul,  and  while  everything  else 
is  moved  by  the  soul,  the  soul  is  self-moved.  They  came 
to  this  conclusion  because  they  observed  that  nothing 
sets  anything  else  in  motion  without  being  itself  in 
5  motion.  In  a  similar  spirit  Anaxagoras  also  declares  the 
soul  to  be  the  principle  of  motion,  and  this  view  is  held 
by  such  others,  if  there  are  any,  as  assert  that  Eeason 
sets  the  All  in  motion.1 

Anaxagoras  does  not,  however,  quite  agree  with  Demo- 

|    critus.     For   Democritus  absolutely  identifies   soul  with 

v   reason,  and    considers    truth    to   be  that  which  appears 

to  the  senses.      Consequently,  Homer  is  right  in  singing 

of  Hector   that   he   lay   "  thinking  awry." 2     Democritus 

1  The  pre- Aristotelian  definitions  of  the  soul  here  cited  are  classifiable 
into  three  main  groups:  (1)  those  that  regard  the  kinetic  or  motive 
attributes  of  the  soul  as  its  fundamental  characteristic ;  (2)  those  that 
regard  the  intellectual  and  cognitive  attributes  as  fundamental ;  (3)  those 
that  attempt  to  combine  these  two  elements  of  activity  and  knowledge. 

2  No  such  reference  as  this  is  to  be  found  in  our  present  text  of 
Homer,  although  the  term  dWocppoveovra  occurs  in  II.  xxiii.  698.  Cf. 
also  Ar.  Metaph.  iv.  (iii.)  5.  10096  28.  The  word  is  here  employed  in 
the  meaning  of  '  to  think  incorrectly,'  while  cfrpovelv  signifies,  when  con- 
trasted with  aWocppovely,  'to  think  correctly.'  Hector  lies  senseless 
from  a  blow,  and  as  thought,  in  the  psychology  of  Democritus,  origin- 
ates in  sensation,  his  thinking  cannot  be  true,  but  is  paralyzed  or  per- 
verted proportionately  to  the  disturbance  in  sensation.  Error  and 
mental  disturbance  (&\\o<ppoveiv)  are  explained  by  disturbance  in  the 
activity  of  the  senses  (cf.  Siebeck,  Geschichte  der  Psychologies  Th.  i. 
Abth.  i.  p.  129 ;  Natorp,  Forschungen  zur  Geschichte  des  Erkenntniss- 
problemes  im  Alterthum,  pp.  171  ff.).  Democritus  makes  a  distinction, 
however,  between  the  relative  values  of  rational  and  perceptual  know- 
ledge, between  Xoyos  and  atadrjins,  although  both  originate  in  external 
stimuli.  The  ultimate,  and  in  this  sense  the  real,  nature  of  things  is 
not  discoverable  by  the  senses,  but  only  by  rational  thought.  The  true 
nature  of  the  world  consists  of  atoms  and  the  void,  and  these  are  known 
not  to  our  senses,  but  to  our  reasoning  mind ;  they  are  vorp-d.  The 
data,  however,  for  these  rational  truths  are  to  be  sought  in  the  deliver- 
ances of  the  senses. 


bk.  i.  ch.  ii.  THEORY    OF   EMPEDOCLES  13 

does  not  employ  reason  as  a  specific  faculty  for  the 
apprehension  of  truth,  but  asserts  that  soul  and  reason 
are  identical.  Anaxagoras,  however,  is  less  clear  on  9 
this  point.  For  although  he  says  in  many  passages  404  £ 
that  reason  is  the  cause  of  the  beautiful  and  the  true, 
in  other  passages  he  says  that  reason  is  the  same  as 
the  soul,  for  it  is  found  in  all  animals,  great  and  small, 
high  and  low.  Eeason,  however,  in  the  sense  of  intelli- 
gence, is  not  found  equally  in  all  animals,  nor  even  in 
all  men. 

Such  philosophers  as  fix  their  attention  on  move-  10 
ment  as  the  main  fact  in  animate  creation  conceive  of 
the  soul  as  the  most  mobile  principle.  On  the  other 
hand,  such  philosophers  as  emphasize  the  knowledge 
and  perception  of  reality,  define  the  soul  as  the 
principle  of  things,  some  holding  there  are  several  such 
principles,  others  that  this  psychical  principle  is  the  only 
one.  Empedocles,  for  instance,  regards  the  soul  as  com- 
posed of  all  the  elements,  and  he  asserts  that  each  of 
these  elements  is  a  soul.      He  says : 

"  Earth  we  apprehend  by  earth,  water  by  water, 
And  air  divine  by  air,  destructive  fire  by  fire, 
And  love  we  know  by  love,  sad  hate  by  hate." 

In   this  way,   too,  Plato   in  his    Timaetis1   constructs  11 
the  soul  out  of  the  elements;  for  we  know  like  by  like, 
and   things   are   composed   of    elemental   principles.      A 
similar  theory  is  given  in  his  Discourses  on  Philosophy,2 

1  Timaeus,  30  C,  35  A,  39  E. 

2  No  such  work  of  Plato  is  known  to  us,  and  the  reference  is  pro- 
bably to  the  oral  discourses  held  by  Plato  in  the  Academy.  Vid. 
Bernays,  Die  Dialoge  des  Aristoteles,  p.  170 ;  Heitz,  Die  verlorenen 
Schriften  des  Aristoteles,  p.  180 ;  Zeller,  Phil.  d.  Qriechen,  Th.  11. 
Abth.  ii.  3te.  Aufl.  p.  64,  note. 


*»*^ 


14  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

where  he  defines  an  animal,  regarded  absolutely, 
as  a  structure  derived  from  the  idea  of  unity  and  the 
primary  elements  length,  breadth,  and  thickness ;   other 

12  things  are  similarly  fashioned.  Again,  in  a  different 
way,  Plato  defines  reason  as  unity,  and  science  as  two ; 
for  the  latter  moves  towards  unity  in  a  single  course.  He 
also  defines  opinion  as  the  number  of  a  plane  surface  and 
sense-perception  as  the  number  of  a  solid.  Numbers 
were  declared  to  be  the  actual  forms  and  first  principles 
of  things  and  to  be  composed  of  the  elements.  But 
things  are  discerned  partly  by  reason,  partly  by  science, 
partly    by    opinion,    and     partly     by    sense-perception. 

13  Numbers,  however,  are  the  forms  of  things,  Since 
the  soul  was  regarded  by  these  Platonists  as  at  once 
the  principle  of  motion  and  the  principle  of  knowledge, 
some  of  them  included  both  these  ideas  in  their 
definition,  and  explained  the  soul  as  a  self-moving 
number.1  These  philosophers  differ,  however,  in  regard 
to  the  kind  and  number  of  their  principles.  The  most 
far-reaching  difference  is  that  between  the  philosophers 
who  regard  the  elements  as  corporeal  and  those  who 
regard  them  as  incorporeal.      There  are  others  who  define 

405  a  the  elements  as  a  composite  of  corporeal  and  incorporeal. 

14  They  differ  also  in  regard  to  the  number  of  the  elements, 
some  believing  there  is  one  only,  and  others  that  there  are 
several,  and  their  definitions  of  the  soul  vary  with  their 
theories  of  the  elements.  Amongst  the  primal  elements 
they  classified,  not  unreasonably,  the  principle  of  inherent 

1  Xenocrates  of  Chalcedon  (396-314  B.C.),  successor  of  Speusippus 
as  Scholarch  of  the  Academy.  Vid.  Ueberweg-Heinze,  Grundriss  d. 
Geschichle  d.   Philosophic,  Th.  1.  p.   191,  Sth  ed. 


bk.  i.  ch.  ii.  THEORY   OF   DEMOCRITUS  15 

movement.  And  so  some  philosophers  held  the  soul  to 
be  fire ;  for  fire  is  the  finest  and  most  nearly  incorporeal 
of  all  the  elements,  and  furthermore,  it  most  readily 
receives  and  imparts  motion.  Democritus  has  explained  15 
in  a  very  neat  way  the  cause  of  these  phenomena.  Soul 
and  reason,  he  says,  are  identical,  and  belong  to  the 
primary  and  indivisible  bodies,  and  are,  furthermore,  the 
principle  of  motion  by  virtue  of  their  particles  and 
atomic  forms.  Amongst  these  atomic  forms,  he  regards 
the  spherical  as  the  most  easily  moved,  and  says  that 
reason  and  fire  are  of  this  sort.  Anaxagoras,  on  the  16 
other  hand,  appears  to  say  that  the  soul  and  reason  are 
different,  as  we  remarked  above,  and  yet  he  employs 
them  as  essentially  one,  except  that  he  regards  reason  as 
more  than  anything  else  the  initial  principle  of  the 
world.  At  any  rate  he  asserts  that  reason  is  the  only 
entity  which  is  absolute,  unmixed,  and  pure.  But  he  17 
ascribes  both  attributes  of  knowledge  and  motion  to  the 
same  principle,  affirming  that  reason  sets  the  universe  in 
motion.  Thales  also,  according  to  the  traditional  stories 
of  him,  appears  to  have  conceived  of  the  soul  as  a  sort  of 
kinetic  principle,  if  it  be  true  that  he  said  the  loadstone  18 
has  a  soul  because  it  moves  iron.  Diogenes,  however, 
and  certain  others  say  that  the  soul  is  air,  in  the  belief 
that  it  is  the  finest  element  and  the  ultimate  principle. 
It  is  for  this  reason,  also,  that  the  soul  knows  and 
produces  motion.  On  the  one  hand,  it  knows  by 
virtue  of  the  fact  that  it  is  primary  and  other  things 
are  derivatives  from  it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
the  principle  of  motion  by  virtue  of  its  being  the  first 
element.     Heraclitus,   also,   says    the    soul    is   the    first  19 


16  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

principle,  since  it  is  fiery  vapor  from  which  every- 
thing else  is  derived.  It  is  also  the  most  incorporeal  of 
all  the  elements  and  is  in  constant  flux.  We  apprehend 
that  which  is  moved  by  what  is  in  motion,  and  he 
believed,  as  did  most  others,  that  the  real  world  is  in 

20  motion.  Alcmaeon,1  too,  appears  to  have  held  views  of 
the  soul  very  similar  to  these.  For  he  says  the  soul  is 
immortal  because  it  is  like  the  Immortals,  and  this 
property  of  immortality  belongs  to  it  by  virtue  of  its 
perpetual     motion.       Now,     all     divine     things    are    in 

405  b  perpetual  motion, — moon,  sun,  stars,  and  all  the  heavens. 

21  Certain  cruder  thinkers,  like  Hippo,  asserted  that  the 
soul  is  water.  They  appear  to  have  based  their  belief 
on  the  nature  of  animal  seed,  which  in  all  cases  is  moist. 
Hippo  confutes  those  who  say  the  soul  is  blood  by  the 
argument    that    the  seed  is   not   blood,  and  seed  is   the 

22  elemental  soul.  Others,  like  Critias,2  regard  the  blood 
as  the  soul,  on  the  supposition  that  the  most  charac- 
teristic attribute  of  the  soul  is  sense-perception,  and 
sense-perception  is  due  to  the  blood.  So  all  the 
elements,  with  the  exception  of  earth,  have  received  a 
vote.  No  one  has  represented  earth  as  the  principle  of 
soul,  unless  it  were  certain  philosophers  who  regarded 
the  soul  as  composed  of  all  the  elements,  or  as  identical 

23  with  them  all.  They  all  define  the  soul,  one  may  say, 
in  terms  of  three  things :  motion,  sensation,  and  incor- 

1  Alcmaeon,  physician  of  Crotona,  who  is  usually  classified  amongst 
the  Pythagoreans,  regarded  self-movement  as  the  essential  character- 
istic of  the  soul.  By  means  of  this  power  of  self- movement  he  appears 
to  have  explained  the  continuity  of  organic  life,  in  addition  to  finding 
in  it  an  argument  for  immortality.  Vid.  Siebeck,  Oeschichte  d.  Psychol 
Th.  1.  Abth.  i.  p.  91. 

2  Critias,  the  leader  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants  and  uncle  of  Plato. 


bk.i.  ch.ii.  THEORY    OF   ANAXAGORAS  17 

poreality,  and  each  of  these  is  referred  back  to  the 
ultimate  elements.  Therefore,  with  one  exception,1  those 
who  define  the  soul  in  terms  of  knowledge,  make  it  an 
element  or  a  derivative  of  the  elements.  For  they  say 
that  we  know  like  by  like,  and  inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
soul  that  knows  all  things,  it  must  consist  of  all  the  24 
elements.  Those  philosophers2  who  maintain  there  is 
only  one  cause  and  one  element,  regard  the  soul  as  a 
unit,  like  fire  or  air.  On  the  other  hand,  the  philo- 
sophers who  maintain  that  there  are  several  elements, 
make  the  soul  a  plurality.  Anaxagoras  alone  declares 
that  the  soul  is  affected  by  nothing  and  has  nothing  in 
common  with  anything  else.  But,  if  this  is  its  nature,  25 
he  did  not  explain,  nor  is  it  evident  from  his  writings, 
how  the  soul  is  to  acquire  knowledge  and  virtue.  The 
philosophers  who  include  contraries  amongst  their  first 
principles 3  regard  the  soul  as  composed  of  contraries. 
On  the  other  hand,  those  who  include  in  their  principles 
only  particular  contraries,4  such  as  heat  and  cold  or 
similar  opposites,  likewise  regard  the  soul  as  one  of  these. 
And  so  there  are  some  who  take  into  consideration  the  26 
derivation  of  the  words,  certain  of  them  claiming  that 
the  soul  is  heat  because  the  verb  '  to  live '  is  derived  from 
this,5  others  claiming  the  soul  is  cold,  because  the  name 
'soul'  is  derived  from  respiration  and  refrigeration.  These, 
then,  are  the  traditional  views  of  the  soul,  and  these 
are  the  grounds  on  which  they  have  been  advanced. 

1  Anaxagoras.  2  The  Ionian  physiologers. 

3  The  Pythagoreans,  who  regarded  the  soul  as  a  harmony  of  contraries. 

4Heraclitus,   Empedocles,   Hippo,   and    perhaps   the    pythagorizing 
Alcmaeon. 

5  I.e.  because  Ifiv  ('  to  live  ')  is  derived  from  i;eiv  ('to  seethe  ')  or  $vxv 
('  soul ')  from  xf/v&s  ('  refrigeration'). 

B 


CHAPTEE  III. 

We  must  now  proceed  at  once  to  the  investigation  of 
motion.  For  the  view 1  that  the  soul  is  a  self-moving 
406  a  entity,  and  capable  of  imparting  motion,  may  not  only 
be  a  false  theory  of  its  essence,  but  it  may  even  be  an 
impossibility  for  motion  to  inhere  in  it  at  all.  We  have 
already  said2  that  what  imparts  motion  is  not  of  neces- 

2  sity  itself  in  motion.  Everything  that  is  moved  is  moved 
in  one  of  two  ways :  it  is  moved  either  by  some  other 
thing  or  from  a  principle  within  itself.  We  speak  of 
objects  moved  by  some  other  thing  when  they  are  moved 
by  being  within  a  moving  body,  e.g.  sailors.  But  sailors 
are  not  moved  in  the  same  sense  as  that  in  which  a  ship 
is  moved.  The  one  is  moved  in  its  own  nature ;  the 
others    are    moved    by    being    within  a    moving    vessel. 

3  This  is  clear  when  applied  to  the  parts  of  the  body ; 
walking  is  a  motion  that  is  peculiar  to  the  feet,  but 
it  is  also  a  property  of  man,  though  it  is  not  a 
property  of  sailors  at  the  moment  in   question.      Now, 

1  Criticism  of  the  view  of  Plato.  The  paraphrast  Themistius  cites 
the  Laws,  Bk.  10,  ed.  Spengel.  p.  26.  Vicl.  Laws,  896,  and  Phaedr.  245, 
246. 

*Phys.  Bk.  VII. ,  Ch.  iv.  and  v.,  245  6-258 a. 

18 


BK.  I.  CH.  III. 


THE    SOUL   AND   MOTION  19 


inasmuch  as  motion  is  employed  in  two  senses,  let 
us  investigate  the  soul,  and  ask  whether  it  is  self- 
moved  or  only  participates  in  movement.  Movements 
are  of  four  kinds :  movement  in  place,  qualitative  4 
change,  decay,  and  growth.  The  soul's  movement,  then, 
must  be  one,  or  several,  or  all  of  these.  If  it  is  not 
moved  accidentally,  its  motion  must  be  a  natural  attri- 
bute. If  this  is  true,  then  space1  must  be  an  attribute, 
for  all  of  the  aforesaid  movements  are  spatial.  If,  4he«, 
the  essential  nature  of  the  soul  is  self-movement,  its  5 
movement  will  not  be  accidental,  ;as  in  the  case  of  the 
movement  of  a  white  object  or  of  an  object  three  cubits 
long.  For  what  moves  is  body,  of  which  these  are  only 
predicates.  Space,  therefore,  does  not  belong  to  them. 
But  space  is  an  attribute  of  the  soul,  if  the  soul  by  its  6 
own  nature  participates  in  motion.  Again,  if  the  soul  is 
moved  by  virtue  of  its  own  nature,  it  can  also  be  moved 
by  external  force.  And  if  it  can  be  moved  by  external 
force,  it  can  also  be  moved  by  virtue  of  its  own  nature. 
The  same  conditions  hold  in  regard  to  rest ;  for  in  the 
state  into  which  an  object  is  moved  by  nature,  in  this 

1  The  arguments  against  the  Platonic  doctrines  are,  briefly  summar- 
ized, as  follows:  Motion  cannot  be  the  soul's  essential  nature,  (1) 
because  this  would  require  that  the  soul  be  spatial ;  (2)  the  soul  must 
be  moveable  by  external  force  ;  (3)  it  must  be  held  in  rest  by  external 
force,  and  these  forced  states  of  motion  and  rest  are  inconceivable ; 
(4)  the  composition  of  the  soul  will  be  determined  by  the  character  of 
its  movements  ;  (5)  it  will  experience  the  movements  which  it  imparts, 
and  as  it  effects  spatial  motion,  so  it  will  experience  spatial  motion, 
and  may  consequently  enter  into  the  body  after  having  passed  from  it ; 
(6)  if  movement  is  the  displacement  of  the  object  in  motion  and  the 
soul's  essential  nature  in  movement,  then  motion  would  imply  the  soul's 
displacement  out  of  its  essential  nature.  Vid.  Wallace's  excellent 
note  (Commentary  ad  loc),  parts  of  which  I  have  used  in  this  con- 
nection. 


20  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

state  it  also  rests  by  nature.  Likewise  when  an  object 
is  moved  by  external  force  into  a  certain  state,  it  also 
rests  in  this  state  by  force.  It  is  not  easy  to  give  even 
a  conjectural  explanation  of  the  character  of  forced  states 
of  motion  and  rest  in  the  soul. 

7  Again,  if  the  soul's  movement  be  upward,  its  composi- 
tion will  be  fire,  and  if  downwards  it  will  be  earth,  for 
these  are  the  movements  which  are  characteristic  of  these 
elements.  The  same  reasoning  holds  good  of  the  inter- 
mediate elements.  Again,  since  the  soul  evidently  sets 
the  body  in  motion,  it  is  reasonable  that  it  also  experi- 
ences^ those  movements  which  it  imparts.  If  this  is  true, 
it  is  also  true  conversely  that  the  motion  which  the  body 

406^  experiences  is  experienced  by  the  soul.     Now,  the  body 

8  is  moved  in  space.  The  soul  should  therefore  change 
place  as  the  body  does,  and  either  the  entire  soul,  or 
certain  of  its  parts,  should  change  position.  If  this  is 
possible,  then  it  would  also  be  possible  for  the  soul  to 
enter  again  into  the  body  after  it  had  once  passed  out. 
From  this  would  follow  the  impossible  conclusion  that 
animals  once  dead  can  rise  again.  In  regard  to  move- 
ment in  the  sense  of  accident,  the  soul  could  be  set 
in   movement   by    some    external   body,    for   an    animal 

9  might  e.g.  be  pushed  by  external  force.  One  must 
not,  however,  suppose  that  a  thing  which  in  its  essential 
nature  is  self-moved,  is  moved  by  anything  else  save 
in  an  accidental  sense ;  just  as  the  absolute  or 
final  good  cannot  be  the  relative  or  secondary  good. 
If  the   soul   is    moved  at  all,   one   would   say  that  its 

10  motion  is  caused  by  the  objects  of  sense  more  than  by 
anything   else.     However,   if   the   soul    moves   itself,   it 


bk.  i.  ch.  in.  THE   SOUL   AND   MOTION  21 

must  itself  experience  motion,  so  that  on  the  supposition 
that  every  movement  is  the  displacement  of  the  object 
in  motion,  in  so  far  as  it  is  moved,  the  soul  must 
suffer  displacement  out  of  its  essential  nature,  provided 
its  self-motion  is  not  merely  accidental.  But  it  is  to 
its  essential  nature  that  motion  belongs.  There  are  n 
also  some  who,  like  Democritus,  and  in  a  spirit  similar 
to  that  of  the  comedian  Philippus,  say  that  the  soul 
moves  the  body1  (in  which  the  soul  resides),  just  as  it 
moves  itself.  For  Philippus  tells  us  that  Daedalus 
made  his  wooden  statue  of  Aphrodite  capable  of  move- 
ment by  pouring  quicksilver  into  it.  And  Democritus  12 
says  much  the  same  thing  when  he  tells  us  that  the 
spherical  atoms,  which  are  never  at  rest,  move  the 
whole  body  by  their  pull  and  push.  But  the  question 
we  have  to  ask  is  whether  these  same  particles  produce 
rest  also.  It  is  difficult  or  quite  impossible  to  say  how 
they  are  to  do  this.  In  a  word,  it  is  not  in  this  way  that 
the  soul  seems  to  set  the  body  in  motion,  but  rather  by 
some  act  of  volition  or  thought. 

Similarly  the  Timaeus  2  explains  on  natural  principles 
the  soul's  movement  of  the  body :  because  it  is  self- 
moved,  it  also  moves  the  body  with  which  it  is 
intimately  bound  up.  The  Timaeus  regards  the  soul  as  14 
composed  of  the  elements,  and  as  divided  into  parts 
corresponding  to  harmonic  numbers,  in  order  that  it  may 
have  an  innate  perception  of  harmony  and  possess  in  its 
entirety  harmonic  movements.  Timaeus  thus  bent  the 
straight  line  into  a  circle,  which  later  he  divided  into 
two  circles  joined  at  two  points,  and  further  subdivided 

1  I.e.  by  mechanical  action.  2  Timaeus,  34  A,  36  C. 


' 


/l\#» 


22  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

407  a  the  original  circles  into  seven  others,  on  the  supposition 
15  that  the  heavenly  orbits  correspond  to  the  movements  of 
the  soul.  Against  this  view  one  may  say,  in  the  first 
place,  that  it  is  incorrect  to  speak  of  the  soul  as  a 
magnitude ;  by  the  soul  of  the  universe  he  evidently 
means  some  such  thing  as  what  we  call  reason.  At  any 
rate  it  cannot,  of  course,  be  the  sensitive  or  the  appetitive 

O  i6'.boul,  for  their  motion  is  not  circular.1     But  reason  is^one 

j  and  continuous,  as  is  also  the  process  of  thought.     Now 

I         ,  —  .   _ 

the  process  of  thought  consists  of  thoughts,  and  these  in 
their  succession  form  a  numerical. unity,  though  not  a 
unity  in  the  sense  of  magnitude.  Neither  is  reason, 
therefore,  continuous  in  this  sense,  but  it  is  either 
indivisible  or  not  continuous  in  the  sense  of  magnitude. 
For  how,  indeed,  is  it  to  think,  if  it  is  magnitude  ? 
Does  it  think  in  its  entirety  or  by  means  of  some  one  of 
its  parts  ?  If  it  thinks  by  means  of  one  of  its  parts, 
it  must  be  either  as  a  magnitude  or  as  a  point,  if 
7  one  can  properly  speak  of  a  point  being  a  part.  Now, 
if  it  be  as  a  point  and  the  points  are  infinite  in  number, 
it  is  evident  that  it  will  never  reach  a  conclusion ;  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  be  as  a  magnitude,  it  will  think  the 
same  thing  many  times  or  an  infinite  number  of  times. 
But  the  fact  seems  to  be  that  ^Jhingjsjjapable  of__being 
thought  once  forjill.  If,  however,  it  is  enough  that  the 
soul  should  have  contact  in  any  of  its  parts,  why  need  it 

1  The  action  of  sensation  and  appetite  is  direct  {i.e.  they  are,  as  Aris- 
totle conceives  them,  directly  from  or  to  an  object)  and  after  the  analogy 
of  a  straight  line.  The  action  of  reason,  on  the  other  hand,  which 
interprets  things  in  terms  of  its  own  forms  and  laws,  and  in  thinking 
ideas  returns,  in  a  sense,  upon  itself,  is  analogous  to  circular  movement. 
The  analogy  is  further  evidenced  by  the  continuity  of  its  processes. 
Cf.  our  expression  to  '  revolve  '  a  thing  in  thought. 


bk.  i.  ch.  in.  THE   SOUL   AND   MOTION  23 

move  in  a  circle  or  have  any  magnitude  at  all  ?     But  if 

thought  requires  contact  in  a  complete  circle,  what  is  the 

significance  of  contact  in  any  part  ?     Again,  how  is  the  18 

soul  to  think  the  divisible  by  means  of  the  indivisible, 

or  that  which  has  no  parts  by  means  of  that  which  has 

parts  ?     Eeason,  however,  must  be  a  circle  of  this  sort. 

For  thought  is  the  movement  of  reason  just  as  revolution 

is  the   movement  of  a   circle.      If,   then,    thought   is    a 

revolving  movement,  reason  must  be  a  circle  of  which 

thought  is   the  revolving  movement.     And,   more  than  19 

this,   reason   must   always   think   something,  if    circular 

motion  is  perpetual.     Now,  this  cannot  be  true,  for  the 

thoughts  which  issue  in  conduct  have  certain  limitations 

(they   are   all   determined   by   an    end),  and  speculative 

thoughts  are  determined  by  logical    processes.       Every 

logical    process    is    either    definition     or    demonstration^ 

Demonstrations  proceed  from  a  premise  and  have  some  20 

form  of  termination  in  a  syllogism  or  conclusion.     And 

supposing  they  do  not  issue  in  a  conclusion,  still  they  do 

not    turn   back    to    the    premise    or    starting-point,   but 

continually  take  a  new  middle  and  extreme  term,  and  so     kX<<J<L.cX^t 

proceed  in  a  straight  line,  whereas  circular  motion  turns 

back    to    the    starting-point.     All    definitions,    too,    are  21 

determinate.     Further,  if  rotation  completes  itself  several 

times,  one  will  necessarily  think  the  same  thought  several 

times.       Again,    thought seems     more     like     rest     and_ 

attention  than  like  motion,  and  the  same  thing  applies  to 
the  syllogism.     More  than  this,  whatever  is  difficult  or 
contrary  to  nature  cannot  be  pleasurable.     Now,  if  motion 
is  not  an  essential  property  of  the  soul,  the  soul  must  move  407  b 
contrary  to  its  nature.     And  it  must  be  painful  for  it  to  22 


24  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

be  united  with  the  body  from  which  it  cannot  free  itself, 
and  such  a  union  is  even  to  be  avoided,  if  it  be  true  that 
the  reason  is  better  off  when  separated  from  the  body — a 
view  commonly  held  and  concurred  in  by  many  persons. 

23  The  cause,  also,  of  the  circular  movement  of  the 
heavens  is  not  clearly  known.  Circular  movement  is 
certainly  not  due  to  the  essential  nature  of  the  soul, 
which  moves  in  this  way  only  accidentally,  nor  is  it  due 
to  the  body,  for  the  motion  of  the  latter  is  due  to  the 
soul.  On  the  other  hand,  this  motion  is  not  ascribed  to 
the  soul  because  of  its  being  a  better  form  of  motion, 
and  yet  it  is  just  for  this  reason  that  God  must  have 
endowed  the  soul  with  circular  movement,  firstly,  because 

24  motion  is  better  than  rest,  and  secondly,  circular  move- 
ment is  better  than  any  other  kind.  Inasmuch  as  this 
inquiry  belongs  more  properly  to  other  branches  of 
knowledge,  let  us  dismiss  it  for  the  present.  We  may, 
however,  note  one  contradiction  found  in  this  and  most 
other  theories  of  the  soul.  It  consists  in  attaching  the 
soul  to  the  body  and  placing  it  therein,  without  deter- 
mining why  this  should  be  the  case,  and  how  the  body  is 

25  related  to  the  soul,  although  it  would  seem  to  be  necessary 
to  know  this.  For  it  is  by  virtue  of  this  union  that  the 
one  acts  and  the  other  is  acted  upon,  that  the  one 
receives  and  the  other  imparts  motion — correlations 
which   are   not  found  in  things   with   merely  accidental 

26  associations.  These  theories  simply  attempt  to  explain 
the  nature  of  the  soul,  but  add  no  explanation  of  the 
body  as  its  receptacle,  because  they  suppose  (in  the  spirit 
of  the   Pythagorean   myths *)  that   any  soul   can   clothe  • 

1  More  particularly  in  the  myth  of  transmigration. 


bk.  i.  ch.  in.       PRE-ARISTOTELIAN   THEORIES  25 

itself  in  any  body.  This  cannot  be  true,  for  every  body 
appears  to  have  a  distinct  form  and  character.  __  Their 
doctrine  is  very  much  like  saying  that  the  carpenter's1 
art  clothes  itself  in  flutes,  whereas  an  art  employs  its 
own  instrument,  just  as  a  soul  employs  its  own  body. 

1  The  carpenter's  art  finds  its  physical  and  material  expression  in  a 
house  but  not  in  a  flute  ;  further,  it  uses  not  a  flute,  but  an  axe,  as  its 
tool.  A  particular  house  is  the  expression  of  a  particular  art  or  of 
particular  ideas,  just  as  a  particular  body  is  the  expression  of  a  definite 
and  individual  soul.  The  soul  is  the  entelechy  and  formative  force  of 
the  body,  and  in  it  we  look  for  the  individuality  and  significance  of  the 
man.  It  is  precisely  on  the  relationship  between  soul  and  body  that 
Aristotle  lays  especial  stress  in  his  definition  of  the  former. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 

There  is  another  theory  of  the  soul  handed  down  from 
our  predecessors,  which  to  the  minds  of  many  persons 
is  no  less  convincing  than  the  theories  already  described. 
Account  has  been  taken  of  it  even  in  our  popular 
treatises.  This  theory  regards  the  soul  as  a  sort  of 
harmony.1  Harmony,  say  its  advocates,  is  a  mixture 
and  combination  of  opposites.     The  body,  too,  is   com- 

2  posed  of  opposites.  Although  it  is  true  that  harmony 
is  a  sort  of  relation  in  mixed  parts  or  a  combination 
of  parts,  we  maintain  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  soul 
to  be  either  of  these.  Again,  although  motion  is  not  an 
attribute  of  harmony,  yet  almost  all  of  the  philosophers 

408  a  who  hold  the  theory  of  harmony,  I  may  say,  ascribe 
motion  to  the  soul.  Another  objection  is  that  it  is 
more  fitting  to  apply  the  term  harmony  to  conditions 
of  health  or  to  bodily  qualities  in  general  than  to  the 

3  soul.  This  becomes  most  evident  when  one  attempts  to 
describe  the  effects  and  functions  of  the  soul  in  terms 


lrnie  reference  is  to  the  theory  discussed  in  the  Phaedo  by  the 
guests  of  Socrates, — Simmias  and  Cebes,  pupils  of  the  Pythagorean 
Philolaus.     Vid.  Phaedo,  86  A  ff. 

26 


bk.1.  OH.iv.  THE    SOUL   A   HARMONY  27 

of  harmony ;  for  it  is  difficult  to  find  any  correspondence 
between  them.  Now,  if  we  have  two  sorts  of  harmony 
in  mind  when  we  use  this  term,  viz.  harmony  in  the 
primary  sense,  which  means  such  composition  of  magni- 
tudes in  objects  possessing  motion  and  position  that 
they  fuse  together  and  admit  nothing  further  that  is 
homogeneous,  and  in  the  secondary  sense,  a  ratio  in 
mixed  elements, — we  still  object  that  in  neither  sense  4 
does  harmony  apply  to  the  soul.  The  composition  of 
the  parts  of  the  body  can  be  readily  examined.  There 
are  manifold  combinations  of  the  parts,  which  may  be 
effected  in  many  ways.  Of  what  parts,  then,  is  reason 
a  combination  and  how  is  the  combination  effected  ? 
And  I  raise  the  same  question  regarding  the  sensitive 
and  appetitive  soul.  It  is  equally  absurd  to  regard  5 
the  soul  as  a  ratio  of  mixture.  The  mixture  of  the 
elements,  in  the  formation  of  flesh  and  bone,  is  not  in 
the  same  ratio.  If  all  the  parts  of  the  body  are  com- 
posed of  mixed  elements,  and  the  ratio  of  this  mixture 
constitutes  harmony  and  soul,  we  have  the  absurd  result 
that  we  possess  many  souls  distributed  through  the 
entire  body.  One  might  demand  from  Empedocles  an  6 
answer  to  this  question,  for  he  says  that  every  one  of 
these  mixed  elements  is  determined  by  a  given  ratio.1 
Now  the  problem  arises  whether  the  soul  is  this  ratio 
or  is  something  else  begotten  in  the  members.  Again, 
is  Love  the  cause  of  any  chance  mixture  or  only  of  a 
mixture  in  which  a  fixed  ratio  is  observed  ?  And  is 
Love  this  ratio  or  something  transcending  the  ratio 
and  different  from  it  ?     This  theory,  then,  involves  such  7 

1  Cf.  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  p.  227. 


28  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

difficulties  as  the  foregoing.  If  the  soul  is  different 
from  the  mixture  or  combination,  why  in  the  world  is 
it  that  the  soul  is  annihilated  at  the  same  moment  as 
the  existence  of  the  flesh  and  the  other  parts  of  the 
living  being  ?  Furthermore,  if  each  part  does  not  have 
a  soul,  on  the  ground  that  the  soul  is  not  the  ratio  of 
mixture,   what   is   it   that    is   destroyed   when   the   soul 

8  leaves  the  body  ?  It  is  therefore  clear  from  the  fore- 
going that  one  cannot  regard  the  soul  as  a  harmony 
or  its  motion  as  circular.  It  is,  however,  possible  for 
it  to  be  moved  accidentally  and  to  move  itself,  as  e.g. 
that  in  which  it  is  may  be  moved,  and  this  in  turn 
may  be  moved  by  the  soul.     But  spatial  movement  is 

9  otherwise  impossible  for  the  soul.  One  might  with 
better  reason  raise  objections  against   the  movement  of 

408  £  the  soul,  by  regarding   the  following  facts.      We  speak 

\  of  the  soul  as  feeling  pleasure,  pain,  courage,  fear,  and 

)  anger,  and  as  perceiving  and  thinking.     Now  all  these 

processes  are  apparently  movements,  and  on  this  ground 

10  one  might  suppose  that  the  soul  is  moved.  This,  how- 
ever, is  not  necessarily  so.  For  even  if  the  feeling  of 
pleasure  or  pain  and  the  process  of  thinking  be  movements 
in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term,  and  each  of  these  be 
a  movement,  it  is  possible  that  the  movement  is  pro- 
duced by  the  soul  just  as  the  feeling  of  anger  or  fear 
is    effected    by    a    given    movement    of    the    heart    and 

j  thinking  by  a  movement  either  of  this  or  of  some  other 
sort.  Further,  some  of  these  movements  are  local,  others 
are  processes  of  change,  but  of  what  particular  sort  or 
how  effected   must   be  considered  elsewhere.     However, 

11  to  speak  of  the  soul  as  feeling  anger  is   like  speaking 


bk.  i.  ch.  iv.  THE    SOUL   AND   THE   BODY  29 

of  the  soul  as  weaving,  or  building  a  house.     It  is  better 
not  to  speak  of  the  soul  as  feeling  pity,  or  as  learning    £     « 
or  thinking,  but  rather  of  man  doing  this  through  the        jf09a/  " 
soul.     We  must   not  suppose,  however,  that   this  is  so  12 
because  there  is  movement  in  the  soul,  but  that  move- 
ment sometimes  proceeds  to  the  soul  and  sometimes  from 
it,  as  e.g.  in  sensation  movement  proceeds  from  outside 
objects,  in  recollection  the  movement  is  from  the  soul 
to  excitations  or  fixed  impressions  lingering  in  the  sense- 
organs.     Now,  reason  appears  to  be  an  entity  which  is 

j  t  /imjplanted^inTne hsoul^and  is  incapable  of  being  destroy ecL; 
for  if  it  were  perishable  it  would  be  destroyed  by  the  13 
decay  of  old  age  more  than  by  anything  else.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  case  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
sense-organs ;  for  if  the  old  man  could  have  the  eye  of 
a  young  man  he  would  see  as  well  as  the  latter.  Old 
age,  then,  does  not  come  because  the  soul  has  undergone 
some  change,  but  the  change  is  in  the  soul's  organ,  the 
body,  as  is  the  case  in  drunkenness  and  disease.  14 

nought  and  contemplation  are,  it  is  true,  weakened 

VJ3$M"'Nj^hen    some  (other   internal   organ)  is  destroyed,  but  the 
Y^^BBQ^Jbe  itself  is  unaffected     The  processes  of  discursive 
thought  and  the  feeling  of  loye  or  hate  are  not  affections 
of  the  reason,1  but  of  (that  which  has  reason'  in  it,  in  so 
far   as    it    has    it)      Therefore,   when   this   organism    is 
destroyed  there  is  no  longer  either  memory  or  love.     For  15 
these  are  not  affections  of  the  reason,  but  of  that  (union  Q^v^w^t^  wLJl, 
of  soul  and  body Jwrncli  has  perished.     Eeason,  on  the        wUocj-  C^  \^ 
other   hand,  is   something   of    a    divine    nature,    and   is         '^w-<*^iT(vt 

1  These  processes  are  not  affections  of  the  eternal  and  separable  Active 
Reason,  but  only  of  the  body  in  so  far  as  it  possesses  psychical  life. 


30  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

unaffected  by  these  changes.  From  these  facts,  therefore, 
it  is  clear  that  the  soul  is  not  in  motion ;  but  if  it  is  not 
in  motion  at  all,  it  is  clear  that  it  is  not  self-moved. 

1 6  By  far  the  most  unreasonable  of  the  above-mentioned 
theories  is  the  one  which  describes  the  soul  as  a  self- 
moving  number,1  involving,  as  it  does,  impossibilities. 
In  the  first  place,  it  involves  impossibilities  regarding  its 
movement  and  especially  regarding  the  notion  of  number. 

409  a  For  how  are  we  to  conceive  of  a  monad,  a  thing  which  is 
without  parts  and  without  differences,  as  in  motion,  and 
by  what  impulse  and  in  what  manner  ?  If  it  imparts 
motion  and  is  moved,  it  necessarily  contains   differences. 

17  Again,  since  it  is  said  that  a  line  in  motion  generates  a 
plane  and  a  point  generates  a  line,  then  the  movements 
of  monads  will  be  lines,  for  a  point  is  a  monad  which  has 
position.      And  the   number  of    the  soul   is,    of  course, 

18  somewhere,  and  has  position.  Again,  if  from  a  number 
one  subtracts  a  number  or  a  unit,  the  remainder  will  be 
a  different  number.      But  plants  and  many  animals,  when 

19  cut  in  two,  live  and  appear  to  retain  the  same  specific 
soul.  It  would  also  appear  that  there  is  no  difference  in 
speaking  of  monads  and  of  small  bodies.  For  if  the 
atoms  of  Democritus  are  regarded  as  points,  and  quantity 
alone  remains,  there  will  still  be  in  this  quantitative 
element,  as  in   everything   continuous,  a  moving  and  a 

1  The  theory  of  Xenocrates.  This  theory  is  really  a  theory  of 
harmony.  Xenocrates  appears  to  have  conceived  of  the  elements  of 
the  soul  as  commingled  in  such  ratio  as  to  produce  a  harmony  (cf. 
Themistius,  ed.  Spengel.  p.  61).  The  real  nature  of  this  harmony  is 
due  to  the  numerical  ratio,  and  consequently  the  essential  nature  of  the 
soul  is  found  in  number.  This  is  merely  an  application  of  the  number 
theory  of  the  Pythagoreans  to  the  explanation  of  the  soul,  to  which, 
however,  Xenocrates  adds  the  important  notion  of  self-movement. 


bk.  i.  ch.  iv.  THE    MONADIC   THEORY  31 

moved  factor.  And  this  consequence  is  due  not  to  any 
difference  inside,  but  merely  to  the  fact  that  the  elements 
are  quantitative.  There  must,  therefore,  be  something  20 
which  sets  the  monads  in  motion.  But  if  the  soul  is  the 
cause  of  animal  movement,  it  will  also  be  the  cause  of 
movement  in  the  number ;  the  soul  is  therefore  not  at 
once  the  moving  and  the  moved  principle,  but  the 
moving  principle  alone.  How  then  is  it  possible  for  the  21 
soul  to  be  moved  ?  There  must  be  some  difference 
between  it  and  other  monads.  But  what  difference  can 
there  be  in  monadic  points,  excepting  a  difference  in  22 
position  ?  Therefore,  even  if  the  monads  and  points  in 
bodies  differ  from  each  other,  the  monads  will,  neverthe- 
less, be  in  the  same  space  as  the  points.  For  the  monad 
will  occupy  the  space  of  a  point.  Now  what  is  to 
prevent  an  infinite  number  from  occupying  the  same 
space,  if  two  can  occupy  the  same  space  ?  This  supposi- 
tion, however,  is  absurd ;  for  where  the  space  occupied  by 
bodies  is  indivisible,  the  bodies  themselves  are  indivisible.  23 
But  if  the  points  in  bodies  are  the  number  of  the  soul, 
or  if  the  soul  is  the  number  generated  out  of  corporeal 
points,  why  is  it  that  not  all  bodies  have  a  soul  ?  For, 
presumably,  there  are  points, — even  an  infinite  number 
of  points, — in  all  bodies.  Again,  how  is  it  possible 
for  souls  to  be  separated  and  disintegrated  from  bodies,1 
if  it  be  true  that  lines  cannot  be  divided  up  into  points.2 

1  Xenocrates  and  the  Platonists  in  general  supported  the  doctrine  of 
immortality  and  the  separability  of  the  soul  from  the  body.  Aristotle 
here  attempts  to  disprove  the  number  theory  of  the  soul  by  showing  its 
incompatibility  with  the  tenet  of  separability,  and  the  consequent  incon- 
sistency of  the  Xenocratean  philosophy  with  itself. 

2  Points  are  not  parts  of  lines,  but  only  definite  positions  or  boun- 
daries. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

The  peculiar  absurdity  of  the  number-theory_consists,  as 
we  said  above,  on  the  one  hand  in  the  fact  that  those  who 
advance  it  maintain  the  same  position  as  the  supporters 
of  the  theory  that  the  soul  is  a  subtle  body ;  on  the  other 
hand,  in  their  explaining  the  movement  of  the  body  by 
409£  means  of  the  soul  after  the  manner  of  Democritus.  For 
if  there  is  a  soul  in  every  body  capable  of  sensation, 
there  must  be,  on  the  supposition  that  the  soul  is  body, 
necessarily  two  bodies  in  the  same  space.  Again,  those 
who  maintain  the  numerical  theory1  of  the  soul  become 
involved  in  the  absurdity  either  that  there  are  many 
points  in  a  single  point,  or  that  every  body  has  a  soul, 
unless  they_make_  a  distinction  between  r^ysi^al_an^l 
^  j>jjyJ^  2  psychical  points.  The  consequence  is  that  the  animal  is 
moved  by  number,  in  the  same  way  in  which  we  said 
Democritus  explained  its  motion.2  For  what  is  the 
difference  whether  we  speak  of  the  movement  of  small 

xBy  interpreting  the  number-theory  of  Xenocrates  as  self-moving 
monads,  Aristotle  reduces  it  to  similarity  with  the  atomic  theory  of 
Democritus,  and  applies  the  criticisms  of  the  latter  to  the  former. 

2  The  animal  is  moved  by  psychical  monads,  just  as  in  the  theory  of 
Democritus  it  is  moved  by  psychical  atoms  (cf.  De  an.  4066  20). 

32 


bk.  I.  ch.  v.      THE    SOUL    AND    THE    ELEMENTS  33 

spherical  bodies  or  of  large  monads  or  of  monads  at 
all  ?  For  in  either  case  the  animal  movement  must 
be  due  to  the  motion  of  the  monads.  The  above  3 
objections  and  many  similar  ones  may  be  raised  against 
the  third1  class  of  philosophers  who  combine  motion  and 
number  in  their  theory.  This  is  not  merely  an  impossible 
definition  of  the  soul ;  it  is  even  an  impossible  attribute. 
This  becomes  evident  if  one  tries  to  explain  in  terms  of  4 
this  motion2  the  feelings  and  functions  of  the  soul,  such 
as  deductions,  sense-perceptions,  pleasure  and  pain,  and 
similar  processes.  It  is  not  easy,  as  we  said  above,3  in 
terms  of  such  a  theory,  to  form  even  a  conjecture  of  the 
nature  of  these  functions.  Of  the  three4  traditional  5 
explanations  of  the  soul,  there  is  one  which  describes  the 
soul  as  the  most  mobile  element  because  of  its  self- 
movement  ;  there  is  another  which  describes  it  as  the 
most  subtle  or  incorporeal  element.  The  difficulties  and 
contradictions  involved  in  these  two  have  been  pretty 
fully  explained.  There  remains  for  us  the  consideration 
of  the  theory  of  its  composition  from  the  elements.  The  6 
soul  is  composed  of  the  elements,  certain  philosophers 
say,  in  order  that  it  may  perceive  and  know  all  reality. 
But  there  are  many  difficulties  which  make  this  theory 
impossible.     Its  advocates  assume  that  like  is  known  by 

1  Xenocrates  and  the  pythagorizing  Platonists. 

2  In  terms  of  number.  ;J  De  an.  4086  32. 

4  The  explanations  apparently  referred  to  are  :  (1)  that  which  regards 
the  soul  as  a  self -moving  number  (Xenocrates) ;  (2)  that  which  regards 
it  as  composed  of  the  finest  and  most  mobile  atoms  (Democritus),  or  of 
the  subtlest  substance  (Anaxagoras),  or  perhaps  as  consisting  of  Har- 
mony (Plato)  ;  (3)  that  which  regards  it  as  composed  of  the  elements. 
This  third  class  of  theories  lays  chief  weight  on  the  soul  as  an  instru- 
ment of  cognition. 

C 


34  ARISTOTLE  8    PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

like,  thus  making  the  soul  and  its  object  in  a  sense  £#• 
identical.  But  the  soul  knows  not  merely  these  elements  ; 
it  knows  a  great  number,  one  would  better  say  an  infinite 
7  number,  of  other  things,  derivatives  of  the  elements.  Let 
it  be  granted  that  the  soul  knows  and  perceives  the 
elements  in  every  real  thing  ;  by  what  means  is  it  to 
know  or  perceive  the  concrete  object,  e.g.  what  is  God,  or 
man,  or  flesh,  or  bone,  or  any  other  similar  composite 
thing  ?  For  the  elements  are  not  combined  m  any 
haphazard  way  to  form  things,  but  in  a  fixed  ratio 
and  composition,  as  Empedocles  himself  says  in  regard 
to  bone  i1 

"  Earth,  the  lovely,  in  her  smelting  pots,  broad  moulded, 
Obtained  from  sparkling  Nestis 2  two  parts  of  the  eight  ; 
Four  from  Vulcan's  fire  :  so  were  white  bones  begotten." 

c 

There  is,  therefore,  no  advantage  in  having  the  ele- 
ments in  the  soul  unless  the  ratios  and  combinations  are 
also  to  be  found  in  it.  Each  element  will  know  its 
similar  counterpart,  but  it  will  not  know  bone  or  man 
unless  these  also  are  to  be  found  in  it.  One  need 
scarcely  say  that  this  is  impossible.  For  who  could  be 
in  doubt  whether  a  stone  or  man  were  to  be  found  in  the 
soul  ?  The  same  holds  true  of  the  good 3  and  the  not- 
good,  and  equally  of  other  instances.  Again,  inasmuch  as 
the  term   '  Being '   is  employed  in   several  meanings  (it 

1  Vid.  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  p.  227  ;  Ritter  and  Preller, 
Hist.  Philos.  Graec,  8th  ed.,  p.  143. 

2  Water. 

3  To  Aristotle  the  good  is  not  an  entity  or  element,  and  so  is  not 
explicable  by  the  theory  of  Empedocles.  The  good  is  a  relation,  and 
consists  in  being  a  mean  between  two  extremes,  both  of  which  (excess 
and  defect)  are  evil. 


bk.  i.  ch.  v.     THE    SOUL   AND   THE    ELEMENTS  35 

denotes  e.g.  the  individual  concrete  thing,  or  quantity,  or 
quality,  or  some  other  particular  category),  the  question 
arises  whether  the  soul  is  composed  of  all  these  cate- 
gories. It  is  supposed  that  there  are  no  elements  which 
are  common  to  all  the  categories.  Is  the  soul,  then,  10 
composed  only  of  the  elements  which  fall  under  the 
category  of  substance  ?  If  so,  how  does  it  cognize  the 
other  elements  ?  Are  we  to  say  that  there  are  elements 
and  specific  principles  which  belong  to  every  category  of 
existence,  and  that  the  soul  is  composed  of  these  ?  The 
soul  will  then  be  a  quantity,  a  quality,  and  a  substance. 
Now,  it  is  impossible  to  form  a  substance  or  anything 
but  a  quantity  out  of  elements  of  quantity.  These  and 
similar  objections  may  be  urged  against  the  theory  that  n 
the  soul  is  composed  of  all  the  elements.  Again,  it  is 
absurd  to  say  that  like  is  unaffected  by  like,  and  yet 
maintain  that  like  perceives  like,  and  that  we  know  like 
by  like.  At  the  same  time  these  writers  regard  per- 
ception, as  well  as  thinking  and  knowing,  as  a  sort  of  12 
affection   and   movement.      The  theory,  as  Empedocles1 

1  Empedocles  starts  with  the  psychological  principle  that  like  is 
known  by  like.  Consequently,  if  objective  reality,  which  consists  of 
the  four  elements  (fire,  earth,  air,  and  water,)  is  to  be  known,  then  the 
knowing  soul  must  be  composed  of  the  like  elements.  Aristotle's 
objections  are  as  follows  :  (1)  The  soul  not  only  knows  the  elements,  but 
a  great  many  other  things,  for  which  the  Empedoclean  theory  that 
'  like  is  known  by  like '  makes  no  provision.  (2)  It  is  of  no  value  that 
the  soul  consist  of  the  elements,  unless  in  some  way  it  be  made  to  con- 
sist of  the  ratios  and  combinations  of  these  elements.  How,  e.j/.,  can 
man  or  stone  be  known,  for  no  one  supposes  that  either  of  these  is  in 
the  soul  ?  (3)  In  what  category  is  the  soul  to  be  classed  ?  It  cannot  be 
regarded  as  all  of  them,  for  the  different  categories  have  no  common 
elements,  and  if  it  is  referred  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  ten  categories, 
it  will  know  only  the  objects  that  belong  to  this  category,  while  it  will 
be  ignorant  of  the  others.     (4)  Empedocles  is  further  in  the  dilemma  of 


36  aristotle's  psychology  de  anima 

states  it,  that  things  are  severally  cognized  by  means  of 
somatic  elements  and  that  like  elements  are  cognized  by 
like,  is  open  to  many  objections  and  difficulties,  as  is 
proven  by  what  we  have  just  said.  For  it  is  plain  that 
such  elements  in  animal  bodies  as  are  composed  merely  of 
410  £  gross  matter,  like  bones,  sinews,  and  hair,  do  not  perceive 
anything,  not  even  objects  like  themselves.     According  to 

13  the  theory,  however,  they  ought  to  perceive  the  like. 
Further,  more  ignorance  than  knowledge  will  attach  to 
every  element ;  for  it  will  know  only  one  particular 
thing,  while  it  will  be  ignorant  of  much,  for  its  ignorance 
will  extend  to  everything  else.  And  Empedocles  is  in 
the  dilemma  of  making  God  the  most  unintelligent  of 
beings ;  for  he  alone  is  ignorant  of  one  of  the  elements, 
viz.,  Strife,  while  mortals  know  them  all,  because  they 

14  are  formed  from  them  all.  There  is,  further,  this  general 
question  to  be  raised :  Why  is  it  that  all  entities  do  not 
possess  a  soul,  since  everything  is  either  an  element  or  a 
derivative  of  one  or  several  or  all  of  the  elements,  and 

15  must,  therefore,  know  one  thing  or  certain  things  or  all 
things  ?  One  might  raise  the  further  query :  What  is  it 
that  unifies  these  elements  into  objects  ?  The  elements 
are  like  a  corporeal  substrate,  while  it  is  the  unifying 
principle,  whatever  that  may  be,  that  is  the  main  thing. 
But  there  can  be  no  superior  principle  to  dominate  the 
soul.  This  impossibility  applies  most  of  all  to  reason. 
For  reason  is,  with  good  cause,  called  nature's  first-born 

making  God  the  most  ignorant  of  beings,  because  one  {vid.  Ueberweg- 
Heinze,  8th  ed.,  Th.  1.,  p.  83)  of  the  elemental  cosmical  principles — 
*  Strife ' — is  excluded  from  his  nature.  (5)  Again,  why  does  not  every 
element  or  combination  of  elements  possess  a  soul  ?  (6)  The  theory  of 
Empedocles  provides  no  unifying  principle. 


bk.  i.  ch.  v.      THE    SOUL    AND    THE    ELEMENTS  37 

ruler,  although  these  philosophers  regard  the  elements  as 
the  primary  realities.  All  the  philosophers  who  maintain  16 
the  doctrine  that  the  soul  is  composed  of  the  elements 
because  it  knows  and  perceives  realities,  and  those  who 
describe  it  as  the  most  mobile  entity,  fall  into  the  error 
of  not  referring  to  the  soul  in  its  entirety.  For  not 
every  sentient  creature  is  capable  of  movement.1  Certain 
animals  are  observed  to  be  stationary  in  place.  And  yet 
this  seems  to  be  the  only  form  of  movement  that  could 
be  meant  when  one  says  '  the  soul  moves  the  animal.' 
A  similar  objection  may  also  be  urged  against  those  who  17 
describe  the  soul  and  the  sentient  principle  as  composed 
of  the  elements,  viz.,  that  plants  evidently  live  without 
participation  in  movement  or  sensation,  while  many 
animals  are  not  endowed  with  thought.  But  even  if 
one  were  to  make  a  concession  and  regard  reason  as  a 
part  of  the  soul,  in  a  sense  similar  to  that  in  which  the 
perceptive  faculties  are  parts  of  the  soul,  still  even  then 
one  would  not  be  taking  every  form  of  soul  into  con- 
sideration, nor  the  whole  of  any  particular  soul.  And 
this  is  just  what  happens  in  the  account  of  the  soul  given  18 
us  in  the  Orphic  verses,  as  we  call  them.2  For  there  we 
are  told  that  the  soul  enters  from  the  universe  into 
individuals  as  they  breathe,  and  that  it  is  carried  by  the 
air.  But  this  is  impossible  in  the  case  of  plants  and 
alsb  in  the  case  of  certain  animals;  because  not  all  of  4" 
them  breathe — a  fact  which  the  supporters  of  this  view  19 

1  This  objection  appears  to  apply  not  to  Empedocles,  but  to  Demo- 
eritus  and  Xenocrates.  Motion  cannot  belong  to  the  essential  nature  of 
soul,  for  certain  sentient  creatures  are  stable  and  incapable  of  motion. 

2  Aristotle  evidently  considered  the  Orphic  origin  of  these  early 
Cosmogonies  as  a  doubtful  tradition. 


38  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

have  overlooked.  Even  if  we  admit  that  the  soul  must 
be  composed  of  the  elements,  it  is  not  necessary  that  it 
be  composed  of  all  of  them ;  for  either  member  of  two 
contraries  is   competent   to   discern   both  itself  and   its 

20  opposite.  For  example,  by  the  concept  of  the  straight 
we  discern  both  the  straight  and  the  crooked ;  the  rule  is 
the  test  for  both,  while  the  crooked  is  not  a  test  either  of 
itself  or  of  the  straight. 

Certain  philosophers1  maintain  that  the  soul  is  diffused 
throughout  the  universe,  which  may  account  for  Thales'2 
thinking  that  all  things  are  full  of  gods.      This  view  is  also 

21  attended  by  certain  difficulties.  Why  is  it  that  the  soul 
which  is  in  the  air  or  in  the  fire  does  not  generate  an 
animal,  while  such  generation  takes  place  in  compound 
bodies,  although  they  regard  that  which  is  contained  in 
the  former  elements  as  superior  to  that  which  is  con- 
tained in  compound  bodies.  One  might  also  ask  the 
question :  Why  is  it  that  the  soul  contained  in  the  air  is 
better  and  more  imperishable  than  that  which  is  found 
in  the  animal  body  ?     There  is  a  two-fold  objection  to 

22  this  theory  :  it  involves  an  inconsistency  and  a  paralogism. 
To  speak  of  fire  or  air  as  animal  is  paralogistic :  while 
not  to  call  them  animal,  if  they  have  a  soul,  is  incon- 
sistent.    They  appear   to  think   there  is   soul  in    these 

23  elements  on  the  ground  that  the  whole  is  homogeneous 
with  its   parts.      The   result  is,  they  must  say  that  the 

1  The  reference  here  may  be  to  the  theories  advanced  in  the  Timaeus 
(30  B,  34  B;  cf.  Bartheleniy-St.-Hilaire,  Psychol.  (V Aristote,  p.  155, 
and  Themistius  Comment,  ad  loc),  or  to  the  theories  of  Heraclitus 
or  Empedocles  or  Diogenes  of  Apollonia.  The  theory  of  panpsychism 
is  best  represented  by  the  post-Aristotelian  Stoics. 

2  Vid.  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  p.  42. 


bk.  i.  ch.  v.  THE    SOUL    AND    ITS    PARTS  39 

soul  is  homogeneous  with  its  parts,  if  it  be  true  that 
animals  become  endowed  with  soul  by  taking  into  them- 
selves something  from  their  environment.  If,  however, 
the  diffused  air  is  homogeneous,  and  the  soul  consists  of 
heterogeneous  parts,  it  is  evident  that  some  of  its  parts 
and  not  others  will  be  contained  in  the  air.  The  24 
consequence  is  that  the  soul  must  either  consist  of  like 
parts  or  not  be  found  in  every  element  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

From  the  aforesaid  it  is  evident  that  knowledge  does    j 
not  belong  to  the  soul  in  virtue  of  its  composition  out  of  j 
the  elements,  neither  is  it  right  or  true  to  say  that  it   j 
is  moved.      But  inasmuch  as  cognition,  sense-perception,  25 
and  opinion,  as  well  as  appetite,  volition,  and  desire  in 
general    are    functions    of    the    soul,    and    inasmuch    as 
locomotion  in  animals  is  effected  by  the  soul,  and  it  is 
also  by  virtue  of  the  soul  that  animals  grow,  reach  their 
prime,  and  decay,  the  question  arises  whether  each  of  these 
functions  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  entire  soul.      In  other  $u\b 
words,  is  it  by  means  of  the  entire  soul  that  w^  think, 
perceive,  and  are  moved,  and  perforin  and  undergo  every 
other  process,  or  do  we  perform  each  different  function  by 
means  of  a  different  part  ?     Again,  we  may  ask  whether  26 
the  principle  of  life  is  found  in  each  one  of  these  parts 
or  in  several  or  in  all  of  them.     Or  is  something  other 
than  the  soul l  the  cause  of  life  ?     It  is  true  that  some 
writers  maintain  the  divisibility  of  the  soul  and  that  one 
part  exercises  thought  and  another  part  exercises  desire. 

1  According  to  Aristotle,  life  is  one  of  the  psychical  functions, 
although  the  most  elementary  of  all  of  them,  and  is  a  prerequisite  to 
all  other  forms  of  psychical  activity. 


40 


ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY 


DE  ANIMA 


&**>"*- 


*•» 


17^* 


yV*    \ 


^* 


27j  If  the  soul  is  really  divided  in  its  nature,  what  is  it  that 

J  holds  it  together?      It  is  certainly  n^t_the_body  ;  for,  on 

the  contrary,  one  supposes  that  the  soul  holds  the  body 

together.     At  any  rate,  when  the  soul  departs  the  body 

is  dissolved  and  disintegrated.      If,  therefore,  it  is  some- 

\  thing  other  than  the  body  that  makes  the  soul  an  unit 

jwihis    would  assuredly   be   the   soul   itself,  and   we    shall 

be    obliged    to    inquire     again    whether     that     unifying 

principle  is  itself  an  unit  or  is  composed  of  several  parts. 

28  If  it  is  an  unit,  why  should  we  not  say  at  once  that  the 
soul  is  an  unit  ?  But  if  it  is  divisible,  reason  will  again 
ask  what  that  principle  is  which  holds  it  together,  and  so 
the  process  will  go  on  ad  infinitum.  In  regard  to  the 
parts  of  the  soul,  one  might  inquire  concerning  the  power 

29  which  each  of  them  has  in  the  body.  For  if  it  is  the 
soul  as  a  whole  that  binds  the  entire  body  together,  it 
would  be  fair  to  suppose  that  each  part  of  the  soul  is  the 
binding  principle  for  some  part  of  the  body.  This,  how- 
ever, appears  to  be  impossible.  It  is  hard  even  to  fancy 
what  sort  of  part  the  reason  will  bind  or  in  what  way. 

30  It  is  observed  also  that  plants  and  certain  insects,  when 
divided,  continue  to  live,  because  the  sections  possess 
souls,  which  are  specifically,  although  not  numerically, 
the  same.  Each  part  retains  the  power  of  sensation 
and  locomotion  for  some  time,  and  there  is  nothing 
strange   in   the   fact   that  it  does  not  continue   to  live, 

31  because  it  has  no  organ  for  the  maintenance  of  its  nature. 
Nevertheless  the  parts  of  the  soul  are  all  found  in  every 
one  of  these  bodily  divisions,  and  they  are  of  like  kind 
with  each  other  and  with  the  entire  soul ;  of  like  kind 
with  each  other  because  they  are  mutually  inseparable; 


bk.  I.  ch.  v.  DIVISIBILITY    OF    THE    SOUL  41 

of  like  kind  with  the  entire  soul  because  it  is  divided 
into  these  as  parts.  Again,  the  fundamental  principleof 
life  in  plants  appears  to  be  a  kind  of  soul,  and  this  is  the 
only  principle  which  animals  and  plants  have  in  common. 
The  principle  of  life  can  exist  apart  from  sensation,  but 
no  sentient  tiling  can  exist  without  life. 


BOOK  THE  SECOND. 

CHAPTEE    I. 

412  tf  Let  the  foregoing  suffice  as  a  discussion  of  the  traditional 
theories  of  the  soul ;  and  now  let  us  resume  our  subject 
from  the  start,  and  attempt  to  determine  the  nature  of 
2  the  soul  and  its  most  general  definition.  One  class  of 
realities  we  call  'substance.'  This  'substance'  may  be  re- 
garded on  the  one  hand  as  matter,  which  in  itself  is_no 
definite  thing :  on  the  other  hand,  as  form  and  idea,  in 
terms  of  which  definite  individuality  is  ascribed  to  a 
thing.  A  third  meaning  of  substance  is  the  composite 
of  matter  and  form.  Matter  is  potentiality ;  form  is 
actuality   or  realization.1     The   latter  may  be  looked  at 

1  The  notions  here  under  discussion  belong  to  the  most  fundamental 
with  which  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle  operates.  The  soul  is  character- 
ized by  several  terms,  chief  of  which  are  form  and  entelechy.  Every 
individual  or  '  substantial '  thing  is  a  composite  of  form  and  matter. 
Form  is  that  which  gives  a  thing  its  character  or  significance.  It  is 
form,  therefore,  that  is  the  object  of  knowledge.  Becoming  consists  in 
the  process  of  matter  assuming  a  definite  form.  Matter,  consequently, 
represents  the  potentiality  of  a  thing,  and  form  its  actuality.  Viewed 
from  the  standpoint  of  causation  or  process,  these  two  notions  constitute 
the  material  and  formal  causes  ;  in  other  words,  matter  is  the  condition 
sine  qua  non,  while  the  form  is  conceptual,  efficient,   and  final  cause. 

42 


bk.  ii.  ch.  i.        THE    NOTION    OF    '  SUBSTANCE  '  43 

in  two  ways,  either  as  complete  realization, — comparable 
with  perfected  knowledge,  or  as  realization  in  process, — 
comparable  with  the  activity  of  contemplation.  The  3 
notion  of  substance  appears  to  be  most  generally  employed 
in  the  sense  of  body,  and  particularly  of  physical  body ; 
for  this  is  the  source  of  all  other  bodies.  Some  physical 
bodies  have,  and  others  have  not,  life.  By  life  we  under- 
stand an  inherent  principle  of  nutrition,  growth,  and 
decay.  So  that  every  natural  body  endowed  with  life 
would  be  substance,  and  substance  in  this  composite  sense.  4 
The  body,  therefore,  would  not  be  soul,  since  body  is  of 

These  fundamental  terms  in  Aristotle's  metaphysics  are  applied  by  him 
to  the  explanation  of  the  soul.  Man  is  first  of  all  an  organic  whole,  the 
living  force  in  which  is  the  soul,  while  the  body  is  the  soul's  organ. 
Soul  is  that  which  differentiates  a  living  from  an  inanimate  thing, 
(De  an.  413a  33),  and  life  signifies  a  process  or  a  form  of  motion.  Life 
implies,  further,  an  active  and  a  passive  element;  in  other  words,  a 
moving  principle  and  a  thing  moved,  which  in  Aristotle's  terminology 
are  form  and  matter.  Form  here  is  equivalent  to  the  moving  or 
efficient  cause.  It  is  the  energy  or  life  that  determines  the  growth  of  a 
particular  body,  or  its  transition,  in  Aristotelian  language,  from 
potentiality  to  actuality.  Every  living  thing,  then,  is  a  composite  of 
form  and  matter,  or  soul  and  body.  In  so  far  as  the  form  is  the 
perfected  end  or  final  cause,  in  so  far  Aristotle  describes  the  soul  as  the 
entelechy  of  a  natural  organic  body.  In  so  far  as  it  is  an  efficient  power 
or  moving  cause,  he  describes  the  soul  as  the  actuality  or  actualization 
(an  inadequate  translation  of  evepyeta).  It  is  only  in  the  "soul  that 
body  attains  its  true  reality  "  (Wallace,  Introd.  p.  xxxix.).  Soul  is  the 
realization  of  the  body,  apart  from  which  the  body  is  only  formless, 
undeveloped,  potential  matter.  Entelechy  (evreXex^ca)  means  the 
finished  state  of  a  thing  (Phys.  202a  24)  or  a  state  in  which  a  thing's 
potentiality  finds  its  complete  development.  Actualization  (evepyeia), 
on  the  other  hand,  means  the  active  process  by  which  the  potential 
thing  passes  over  into  the  completed  state  or  it  is  the  completed 
state  in  process.  Entelechy  is,  therefore,  more  ultimate  than 
actualization  (hepyeia),  although  Aristotle  frequently  uses  the  terms 
synonymously.  On  the  term  evepyeia,  vid.  Grant's  Aristotle's  Ethics, 
Vol.  I.,  pp.  231  ff.  4th  ed.,  and  Trendelenburg's  Aristotle's  De  anima, 
2nd  ed.,  pp.  242  ff. 


44  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

such  nature  that  life  is  au  attribute  of  it.  For  body  is 
not  predicated  of  something  else,  but  is  rather  itself  sub- 
strate and  matter.  The  soul  must,  then,  be  substance1 
in  this  sense :  it  is  the  form  of  a  natural  body 
endowed   with    the   capacity~bT    life.      In  this   meaning 

5  substance  is  the  completed  realization.  Soul,  therefore, 
will  be  the  completed  realization  of  a  body  such  as 
described.  Complete  realizatio^  is  employed  in  two 
senses.2  In  the  one  sense  it  is  comparable  with  per- 
fected knowledge ;  in  another,  it  is  comparable  with  the 
active  process  of  contemplation.  It  is  evident  that  we 
mean  by  it  here  that  realization  which  corresponds  to 
perfected  knowledge.  Now,  both  waking  and  sleeping- 
are  included  in  the  soul's  existence :  waking  corresponds 
to  active  contemplation ;  sleep  to  attained  and  inactive 
knowledge.      In  a  given  case  science  is  earlier  in  origin3 

6  than    observation.       Soul,    then,    is    the  jirst4  entelechy  _ 

1  Substance  is  employed  by  Aristotle  in  three  senses  :  (1)  matter  ;  (2) 
form  ;  (3)  the  composite  of  matter  and  form  or  an  individual  thing.  Cf. 
Zeller's  Aristotle,  Engl.  tr.  Vol.  I.  pp.  374  ff. ;  Grote's  Aristotle,  p.  454. 

2  These  two  senses  are  described  by  Aristotle  in  the  terms  entelechy 
and  actualization  (evepyeia),  the  former  of  which  corresponds  to  '  per- 
fected knowledge '  and  the  latter  to  the  process  or  activity  of  '  contem- 
plation. ' 

'■''  In  the  sense  of  being  a  dormant  possession,  or  a  potentiality  which 
subsequent  activity  presupposes. 

4  The  '  first '  entelechy  is  variously  explained  by  the  different  com. 
mentators  from  Simplicius  down.  The  notion  of  '  first '  appears  to  refer 
to  the  distinction  made  in  the  previous  Note.  There  is  a  primary  and 
secondary  substance  {ovaia),  the  former  of  which  refers  to  the  individual, 
and  the  latter  to  the  genera  ;  there  is  a  primary  matter  (Trpdorr}  v\rj, 
Metaph.  1049a 25),  which  signifies  matter  absolutely  formless;  there  is, 
further,  a  primary  soul  (wpuTr)  ■J/vxVi  De  an.  4166  22),  which  is  the 
most  fundamental  or  primary  form  of  soul,  viz.,  the  nutritive  function  ; 
and  similarly  there  is  a  first  entelechy  {irpwry)  evreXexeia),  which  is  the 
primary  or  most  fundamental  form  of  psychical  life.     It  is  primary  or 


bk.  ii.  ch.  t.  DEFINITION    OF   THE    SOUL  4~> 

of   a    natural  body   endowed    with  the  capacity  of  life.     I 
Such  a~~5o3y  one  would  describe  as^organic.      The  parts 
of  plants  are  also  organs,  although  quite  simple  in  char-  412 1> 
acter,  cjj.  the  leaf  is  the  covering  of  the  pericarp,  and 
the    pericarp    is    covering    of    the    fruit ;   the   roots    are 
analogous   to   mouths,  both   being   channels  of  nutrition.  7 
If    then  we  were  obliged  to  give  a  general   description 
applicable  to  all  soul_or  life,  we  should  say  that  it  is  the 
first  entelechy  of  a  natural  organic  body.     It  is  therefore 
unnecessary  to  ask  whether  body  and  soul  are  one,  as  one 
should  not  ask  whether  the  wax  and  the  figure  are  one, 
or,  in  general,  whether  the  matter  of  a  particular  thing 
and  the   thing  composed   of  it  are   one.      For  although 
unity  and   being  are  predicated  in  several  senses,  their 
proper  sense  is  that  of  perfect  realization. 

We  have  now  given  a  general  definition  of  the  souli  g 
We  have  defined  it  as  an  entity  which  realizes  an  idea.l 
It  is  the  essential  notion  which  we  ascribe  to  a  body   '  JrLo$  d  mo*  ^  "£ 
of   a  given   kind.      As  an  illustration,   suppose    that    an       <vVcJm=b 
instrument,  e.g.  an  axe,  were  a  natural  body.      Here  the 
notion  of  axe  constitutes  its  essential  nature  or  reality, 
and   this  would   be  its  soul.     Were  this  taken  away  it 
would   no  longer   be  an  axe,  except   in  the  sense  of  a 
homonym.      It    is    in   reality,  however,   merely   an   axe,  9 
and   of  a   body   of  this   sort   soul    is   not    the   notional 

first  in  the  sense  of  being  nearest  to  mere  potentiality,  and  in  the  order 
of  development  stands  next  above  body.  It  is  also  first  in  being  a  pre- 
requisite to  all  further  development.  The  'first  entelechy  of  a  body'  is, 
consequently,  the  first  manifestation  of  life  which  an  organism  displays. 
It  corresponds  to  dormant  knowledge  or  merely  possessed  science, 
which  is  potentiality  (86i>a/us,  e£ts)  compared  with  the  active  employ- 
ment of  science  {ev^pyeta),  and  as  potentiality,  it  is  prior  to  the  latter. 
(Cf.  Zeller's  Aristotle,  Engl.  tr.  Vol.  II.  p.  3,  note  1.) 


/K^ 


46  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

essence  and  the  idea,  but  soul  applies  only  to  a  natural 
body  of  a  given  kind,  viz.  a  body  whose  principle  of 
(movement  and  rest  is  in  itself.1  The  principle  expressed 
here  should  be  observed  in  its  application  to  par- 
ticular   parts   of    the    body.      For    if   the    eye    were   an 

IO  animal,  vision  would  be  its  soul,  i.e.  vision  is  the  notional 
essence  of  the  eye.  The  eye,  however,  is  the  matter  of 
vision,  and  if  the  vision  be  wanting  the  eye  is  no  longer 
an  eye,  save  in  the  meaning  of  a  homonym,  as  a  stone 
eye  or  a  painted  eye.  What  applies  here  to  a  particular 
member,  must  also  apply  to  the  entire  living  body ;  for 
as  the  particular  sensation  is  related  to  the  particular 
organ  of  sense,  so  is  the  whole  of  sensation  related  to 
the  entire  sensitive  organism,  in  so  far  as  it  has  sensa- 

ii  tion.  'Potentiality  of  life'  does  not  refer  to  a  thing 
which  has  become  dispossessed  of  soul,  but  to  that  which 
possesses  it.  Seed  and  fruit  are  potentially  living  bodies. 
As  cutting  is  the  realization  of  the  axe,  and  vision  is 
the  realization  of  the  eye,  so  is  the  waking  state  the 
:  realization  of  the  living  body;  and  as  vision  and  capacity 
413  a  are  related  to  the  organ,  so  is  the  soul  related  to  the 
body.  Body  is  the  potential  substrate.  But  as  vision 
and  pupil  on  the  one  hand  constitute  the  eye,  so  soul 
and  body  in  the  other  case  constitute  the  living  animal. 

12  It  is,  therefore,  clear  that  the  soul  is  not  separable  from 
the  body;  and  the  same  holds  good  of  particular  parts 
of  the  soul,  if  its  nature  admits  of  division,  for  in  some 
cases   the   soul   is    the  realization   of  these   very  parts ; 

1  The  meaning  is  that  if  an  axe  were  a  body  with  an  inherent  principle 
of  movement,  or  in  other  words  an  animate  body,  then  the  notion  of 
axe  or  axehood  would  constitute  its  soul.  The  soul,  then,  is  the 
'  notional  essence,'  to  use  an  Aristotelian  phrase,  of  a  living  body. 


bk.  ii.  ch.  i.  DEFINITION    OF   THE    SOUL  47 

not  but  that  there  are  certain  other  parts  where  nothing 
forbids  their  possible  separation,  because  they  are  not 
realizations  of  any  bodily  nature.1  And  yet  it  is  un- 
certain whether  the  soul  as  realization  of  the  body  is  "~ 
separable  from  it  in  a  sense  analogous  to  the  separability 
of  sailor 2  and  boat.  Let  this  suffice  as  a  definition  and 
outline  sketch  of  the  soul. 

1  The  reference  is  to  the  Active  Reason. 

2  As  the  sailor  is  the  directing  and  animating  principle,  as  it  were, 
of  a  boat  and  is  able  to  leave  it  at  will. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Inasmuch  as  the  certain  and  the  conceptually  more 
knowable  is  derived  from  what  is  uncertain,1  but  sensibly 
more  apparent,  we  must  resume  the  investigation  of  the 
soul  from  this  standpoint.  For  it  is  necessary  that  the 
definition  show  not  merely  what  a  thing  is,  as  most 
definitions  do,  but  it  must  also  contain  and  exhibit  the 

2  cause  of  its  being  what  it  is.  In  reality,  the  terms  of 
definitions  are  ordinarily  stated  in  the  form  of  con- 
clusions. What,  e.g.  is  the  definition  of  squaring  ?  The 
reply  is  that  squaring  is  the  conversion  of  a  figure  of 
unequal  sides  into  a  right-angled  equilateral  figure  equal 
to  the  former.  Such  a  definition  is  the  expression  of 
a  conclusion.     But  to  define  squaring  as  the  discovery 

3  of  a   mean  proportional   line   is   to  define  the  thing   in 

lrThe  only  certain  and  scientific  knowledge  to  Aristotle  is  that  of 
concepts  or  universals,  although  this  is  in  a  way  derived  from  sensible 
data.  Aristotle  is  not,  however,  a  pure  Empiricist.  Sense-per- 
ception itself  is  not  a  passive  reception  of  external  impressions ; 
these  furnish  rather  only  the  occasion  of  a  given  psychical  activity, 
and  rational  thought  is  in  still  higher  degree  a  matter  of  subjective 
initiation.  He  rejects,  however,  the  Platonic  theory  of  reminiscence 
'  and  all  other  theories  which  assume  the  possession  of  a  body  of  innate 

truths. 

48 


ek.  ii.  ch.  ii.         ANIMATE    AND    INANIMATE  49 

terms  of  its  cause.1  Eesuming  our  inquiry,  we  say, 
therefore,  that  the  animate  is  distinguished  from  the 
inanimate  by  the  principle  of  life.  But  inasmuch  as  life 
is  predicated  in  several  senses,  e.g.  in  the  sense  of  reason, 
sensation,  local  movement  and  rest,  and  furthermore 
movement  in  the  sense  of  nutrition,  decay,  and  growth  ;2  4 

1The  one  definition  describes  the  result  accomplished,  and  the  other 
the  means  and  method  of  its  accomplishment.  Although  Aristotle  has 
great  veneration  for  facts,  to  a  degree  remarkable  in  Greek  philosophy, 
he  constantly  lays  emphasis  on  the  superior  significance  of  relations 
and  causes. 

2 Aristotle's  view  of  soul  or  the  'vital  principle'  (neither  translation 
gives  quite  an  adequate  idea  of  the  meaning  of  faxv,  cf.  Introduction, 
Chap.  i. )  is  different  from  that  of  Stahl  and  the  Montpellier  School  of 
Animists.  The  latter  regard  the  mind  as  the  source  of  all  vital  phe- 
nomena, whereas  Aristotle  regards  life  as  the  source  of  mind,  or  rather, 
mind  as  only  one  of  several  forms  of  life.  The  distinction  between  the 
two  views  is  made  greater  by  Lewes  (Aristotle,  p.  223)  than  the  facts 
justify,  he  having,  as  he  supposes,  made  the  discovery  of  this 
distinction.  In  reality  Aristotle  characterizes  life  as  a  psychical 
activity,  though  not  necessarily  intelligent.  The  organic  activity  in 
plants  is  psychical,  although  they  have  no  sensation.  Aristotle  used 
life  in  a  wider  meaning  than  we  do ;  with  him  it  included  reason 
and  sensation,  as  amongst  the  vital  activities  of  organized  beings. 
These  combined  activities  constituted  '  soul '  in  distinction  from  the 
material  substrate  or  body,  in  which  they  are  manifested.  Stahl 
(1660-1734),  whose  theory  of  the  soul  grew  out  of  his  physiological 
studies  and  was  a  reaction  against  mechanical  and  chemical  theories, 
rejects  the  Aristotelian  distinction  of  a  vegetative  and  nutritive  soul, 
and  refers  all  these  functions  to  rational  thought.  The  three  forms  of 
vital  movement  for  Stahl  are  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  secretion,  and 
excretion,  all  of  which  Aristotle  includes  amongst  the  activities  of 
nutrition,  save  that  the  circulation  of  the  blood  takes  the  form  of 
movement  from  the  heart  to  the  extremities  and  back  again.  Stahl  says 
the  cause  of  this  is  the  mind ;  Aristotle  says  it  is  the  nutritive  soul  or 
the  lowest  form  of  vital  activity.  Both  are  vitalists  in  the  repudiation 
of  a  mechanical  explanation  of  life ;  both  are  animists  in  referring  the 
phenomena  of  life  to  the  soul.  They  differ  in  that  Stahl  makes  all 
these  activities  rational,  while  Aristotle  regards  as  rational  only  specific 
activities  in  higher  animal  life.  Cf.  Lemoine,  Le  vitalisme  et  Vanimisme 
de  Stahl,  pp.  33  ff. 

D 


50  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

if  any  one  of  these  is  discerned  in  a  thing  we  say  that 
it  has  life.  All  plants,  therefore,  are  supposed  to  have 
life ;  for  evidently  they  have  within  them  a  potency 
and  principle  whereby  they  experience  growth  and  decay 
in  opposite  processes.  For  their  growth  is  not  merely 
upwards  or  downwards,  but  in  both  these  directions 
alike  and  in  every  point  where  nutrition  takes  place, 
and  they  continue  to  live  as  long  as  they  are  capable  of 

5  nutrition.  Now  this  faculty  of  nutrition  is  separable 
from  the  other  forms  of  life,  but  the  other  forms  cannot 
exist  in  perishable  creatures  apart  from  this  principle 
of  nutrition.  This  is  made  clear  in  the  instance  of 
plants ;  for  they  have  no  other  capacity  of  soul  (or  life) 

413  £  than    this   nutritive   one.      Owing    to    this   fundamental 

6  principle  of  nourishment,  therefore,  life  is  found  in  all 
animated  living  things,  but  the  primary  mark  which 
distinguishes  an  animal  from  other  forms  of  life  is  the 

fcjj^    possession  of  sensation.     For  even  those  creatures  which 

[yph^  are   incapable    of    locomotion    or    change   of    place,   but 

which    possess    sensation,    are    called    animals    and    are 

not   merely  said   to   live.      Touch   is  the   primary   form 

7  of  sensation  and  is  found  in  all  animals.  But  as  the 
nutritive  faculty  is  separable  from  touch  and  sensation 
in  general,  so  touch  can  exist  apart  from  the  other  forms 
of  sensation.  By  the  nutritive  power  we  understand 
that  part  of  the  soul  in  which  plants  share ;  and  by 
the  sensation  of  touch  we  mean  that  capacity  which 
all  animals  possess.  We  shall  later  on  give  the  ex- 
planation of  these  phenomena. 

8  For  the  present  let  it  suffice  that  the  soul  is  the 
causal    principle    of    the   aforesaid    phenomena,    and    is 


bk.  ii.  oh.  ii.  THE   PRINCIPLE   OF   LIFE  51 

defined  in  terms  of  them,  I  mean,  in  terms  of  nutrition^ 

sensation,  reason,  motion.     To  the  question  whether  each 

of  these  forms  of  life  is  a  soul  or  a  part  of  the  soul ; 

and,  if  a  part,  whether   in  the   sense   that  the  part  is 

only  notionally  separable  or  really  separable  in  space, — 

the    reply    is    in     some    respects    easy    and    in    others 

difficult.     For  in  the  case  of  plants,  some  of  them  appear  9 

to  live   when   they  are  divided   up  and   the    parts   are 

separated  from   each    other,  indicating  that   there  is   in 

each  of  these  plants  in_actuality  an  unitary  soul,  but  in   ~\  ^^JU-^oJs, 

potentiality   several  souls.     And    we   observe   the    same 

thing  taking  place  in  different  varieties  of  soul,  as  e.g.  in 

the  case  of  insects  which  have  been  dismembered.     Here 

each  part  is  capable  of  sensation  and  locomotion,  but  if  it 

is  capable  of  sensation  it  is  also  capable  of  imagination 

and  impulse.     For  where  there  is  sensation,  there  is  also 

pleasure  and  pain,  and  where  there  is  pleasure  and  pain         ,^_   , 

there  is  necessarily  also  desire.     Now  in  regard  to  reason_io  ^^^^-cj^ 

and  the  speculative  faculty,  we  have  as  yet  no  certain 

evidence,  but  it  seems  to  be  a  generically  distinct  type  of    1 

soul  and   it  alone  is  capable   of  existing  in  a  state  of     \ 

separation  from  the  body,  as  the  eternal  is  separable  from      ( 

the  mortal.1     The  remaining  parts  of  the  soul,  however,  n 

are    from    the     foregoing    considerations    evidently    not 

separable,  as  some  assert.2     But  that  they  are  notionally 

1  Amongst  the  uncertain  and  wavering  statements  of  Aristotle 
regarding  the  separability  of  the  rational  soul  and  its  immortality,  this 
is  one  of  the  most  explicit  passages. 

2  The  reference  appears  to  be  to  Plato  who  regarded  the  soul  as  con- 
sisting of  three  distinct  faculties, — the  rational,  spirited,  and  appetitive 
(Repub.  440  a,  b,  Timaeus,  69,  70),  which  were  situated  in  different 
parts  of  the  body, — reason  in  the  head,  the  spirited  element  in  the 
thorax,  and  the  concupiscent  faculties  in  the  lower  body. 


52  akistotle's  psychology  deanima 

separable,  is  clear;  for  if  perceiving  is  distinct  from 
opining,  the  faculty  of  sensation  or  perception  is  dis- 
tinct from  that  whereby  we  opine,  and  each  of  these  is 
in  turn   distinct    from    the    faculties    above    mentioned. 

12  Furthermore,  all  of  these  are  found  in  some  animals, 
while  only  certain  of  them  are  found  in  others,  and  in 
still  others  only  a  single  one  (and  this  is  the  cause  of  dis- 

414  a  tinctions  amongst  animals).  The  reason  for  this  must  be 
investigated  hereafter.  A  parallel  instance  is  found  in 
regard  to  sensation ;  some  animals  possess  all  the  faculties 
of  sense,  others  only  certain  of  them,  and  still  others  only 
the  single  most  fundamental  one,  viz.  touch. 

13  The  principle  by  which  we  live  and  have  sensation, 
then,  is  employed  in  a  twofold  sense.  Similarly,  we 
employ  the  principle  by  which  we  know  in  a  twofold 
sense,  viz.  science  and  the  knowing  mind  (for  we  say  we 
know  by  means  of  each  of  these),  and  in  a  like  manner 
the  principle  by  virtue  of  which  we  are  healthy  is  in  one 

14  sense  health  itself,  and  in  another  sense  a  part  of  the 
body  or  the  whole  of  it.  In  these  cases  knowledge  and 
health  constitute  the  form,  notion,  idea,  and,  as  it  were, 
the  realization  of  a  potential  subject, — the  one  of  a 
knowing  subject  and  the  other  of  a  healthy  one, 
(realization  is  supposed  to  attach  to  that  which  has 
power  to  effect  changes  and  is  found  in  a  passive  and 
recipient  subject).  The  soul  js  that  principle  by  whichL' 
iri_j^_ultimate  sense  we  live  and*  feeland  Ibnmk  :  so  that  f  v.  iTr 
it  is  a  sort  of  idea  and  form,  not  matter  and  substrate. 

15  Now,  substance  is  employed,  as  we  have  said,  in  a  three- 
fold meaning,  viz.  as  form,  as  matter,  and  as  a  composite 
of  these  two.     Amongst    these    meanings    of   substance 


bk.  ii.  ch.  ii.  THE    SOUL   AND    BODY  53 

matter  signifies  potentiality;  form  signifies   actuality  or 
complete  realization.      Inasmuch  as  it  is  the  composite 
which  is  the  animate  creature,  body  cannot  be  regarded 
as  the  complete  realization  of  the  soul,  but  the  soul  is  the    S~^w*J§^_  \J^ 
$£j  (realization  of  a^  given  body.     The  conjecture,   therefore,  |i6       ?*V~^'yy*^ 
appears  well  founded  that  the  soul  does  not  exist  apart     v^  *  ^  ; 

from  a  body  nor  is  it  a  particular  body.     The  soul  is  not     £'^  w^^ 
( y^yV  itself  body,  but  it   is   a  certain  aspect  of  body,  and  is      ?-£~rt^— 
sLU^    consequently  found  in  a  body,  and  furthermore  in  a  body 
^JLJr^f  sucn  and  such  a  kind.      It  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  it 
%j^~>   was  amongst  our  predecessors  who   thought  that   it    is 
**•  *      introduced  into  body  without  prior  determination  of  the 
particular    sort    of    body,    although    no     casual     subject 
appears  capable  of  undergoing  any  casual  or  haphazard  17 
effect.1     This  same  result  is  also  reached  by  an  analysis 
of  the  notion   itself;   for  complete  realization   in    every     ^ctol.'t 
v     instance  is  naturally  found  in  a  definite  potentiality  and  in 
an  appropriate  matter.     From  this  it  is  evident  that  the 
^9"*  soul   is  a  kind   of  realization   and   expressed   idea  of  a 
'*j&°-    determinate  potentiality. 

1  Trendelenburg  thinks  the  Pythagoreans^are  meant  here,  owing  to 
their  doctrine  of  transmigration  of  souls.  The  doctrine  that  one  soul 
can  clothe  itself  in  different  sorts  of  bodies  is  as  impossible  as  that  one 
craft  can  use  the  tools  of  other  crafts  indifferently.  Cf .  De  an.  4076  22 ; 
vid.  also  note,  p.  25. 


CHAPTEE   III. 

In   some   creatures,  as  we  have  said,  all   of  the  above 

mentioned  psychic  powers  are  found,  in  others  certain  of 

them,  and  in  still  others  only  one.      By  powers  we  mean 

.      __v    .      •       here   the   power   of  *  nutrition,  of  •  appetite,  of  "sensation, 

.  of  v  movement    in  space,   and    of  rational    thought.       In 

plants,    only    the    nutritive    power   is   found ;    in    other 

414  £  creatures  the  power  of  sensation  is  added.     If  sensation 

2  is  added,  impulse  or  appetite  is  also  implied.  For 
appetite  includes  desire  and  impulse  and  wish.  All 
animals  have  at  least  one  sense — touch ;  and  to  whatever 
creature  sensation  is  given,  to  it  are  also  given  pleasure 
and  pain,  and  objects  appear  to  be  pleasant  or  painful. 
Creatures  which  distinguish  these,  possess  also  desire ;  for 
desire  is  an  impulse  towards  what  is  pleasant.     Further, 

3  animals  possess  a  sense  for  food,  and  this  is  the 
sense  of  touch ;  for  all  animals  are  nourished  by  means 
of  the  dry  and  moist,  the  warm  and  cold,  and  it  is 
touch  which  apprehends  these.  It  is  only  incidentally 
that  animals  discern  food  through  other  sensible 
qualities ;  neither  sound  nor  colour  nor  smell  con- 
tributes at  all  to  food.      Flavour,  however,  is  one  of  the 

54 


bk.  ii.  ch.  in.      VARIOUS   MEANINGS   OF   SOUL  55 

haptic  qualities.1  Hunger  and  thirst  are  desires ;  hunger  4 
is  a  desire  of  the  dry  and  warm ;  thirst  a  desire  of 
the  cool  and  moist,  and  flavour  is  a  sort  of  seasoning 
in  these  objects.  We  must  explain  these  subjects 
minutely  hereafter ;  for  the  present  let  the  statement 
suffice,  that  amongst  animals  where  we  find  touch 
we  find  appetite  also.  The  subject  of  imagination 
in  animals  is  uncertain  and  must  be  investigated  later. 
In  addition  to  these  attributes  we  find  amongst  some  5 
animals  the  power  of  local  movement  and  in  others  we 
find  the  power  of  understanding  and  reason,  as  in  man 
and  in  other  creatures  that  are,  if  there  be  such,  similar  or 
superior  to  man.  It  is  evident  that  a  single  definition 
can  be  applied  to  soul  in  the  same  way  as  a  single 
definition  can  be  applied  to  figure.  As  in  the  latter  case, 
there  is  no  figure  beyond  that  of  the  triangle  and  its 
derivations,  so  in  the  former  case  there  is  no  soul  beyond 
those  enumerated.  A  common  definition  might  also  be  6 
applied  to  figures  which  would  fit  them  all  and  be 
peculiar  to  no  particular  figure.  The  same  holds  good  in 
the  case  of  the  above  mentioned  types  of  soul.  It  is, 
therefore,  absurd,2  both  in  these  instances  and  in  others,  to 
search  for  a  common  definition  which  shall  not  apply  to 
any  individual  real  thing  nor  to  any  peculiar  and  irre-  7 

1  Touch  is  the  most  fundamental  of  all  the  senses,  and  taste  is  depen- 
dent upon  it.  These  two  are  essential  to  the  preservation  of  animal  life. 
No  animal  can  be  without  touch  and  nothing  that  is  without  it  can  be  an 
animal.  As  the  primary  form  of  sensation,  it  is  the  lowest  differential 
mark  of  animal  life,  distinguishing  the  animal  from  the  vegetable. 

2  Aristotle  is  referring  to  an  absurdity  not  fully  expressed  here. 
The  meaning  appears  to  be  that,  although  such  a  general  definition 
might  be  framed,  it  would  be  void  of  any  helpful  content  or  significance, 
not  being  applicable  to  any  particular  form  of  reality. 


•3*\ 


56  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  db  anima 

ducible  species,  thereby  neglecting  the  particular  meaning 
in  the  general.  The  facts  touching  the  soul  are  parallel 
to  this  case  of  figure ;  for  both  in  figures  and  in  animate 
creatures,  the  prior1  always  exists  potentially  in  the  later, 
e.g.  the  triangle  is  contained  potentially  in  the  square  and 
the  nutritive  power  in  that  of  sensation.  We  must,  there- 
fore, investigate  the  nature  of  the  soul  in  particular  things, 

8  e.g.  in  a  plant,  a  man,  or  a  lower  animal.      And  we  must 
415  a  consider    the   cause    of    their   order  of  succession.     The 

sensitive  soul,  for  example,  presupposes  the  nutritive,  but 
in  the  case  of  plants  the  nutritive  exists  apart  from  the 
sensitive.  Again,  the  sense  of  touch  is  presupposed  by 
all  the  other  senses,  but  touch  exists  apart  from  them 
and  does  not  presuppose  them.      Many  animals  have  no 

9  sense  of  sight,  hearing,  or  smell.  Some  that  are  capable 
of  sensation  have  also  power  of  local  movement,  others 
have  not;  finally  the  smallest  number  possess  the  power 
of  reason  and  understanding.  Mortal  creatures  who 
possess  the  power  of  reason,  possess  all  the  other  psychic 
faculties,  but  those  which  have  each  of  these  others  do 
not  all  have  the  power  of  reason,  and  certain  of  them  do 
not  even  possess  imagination,2  while  still  others  live  by 
this  alone.  At  another  time  we  shall  give  an  account  of 
the  speculative  reason.  It  is  evident,  however,  that  this 
account  touching  each  particular  form  of  soul  is  also  the 
most  fitting  description  of  the  soul  in  general. 

1  The  logically  prior  is  meant. 

2  Imagination  is  of  two  sorts  ((pavraaia  aiadrjTiKri  and  (pavracria  /3oi/\eiTi/oj 
7}  \oyi<rTiKr)),  the  one  of  which  is  the  power  of  reproducing  images  of  sense 
or  of  reviving  spent  sensations  ;  the  other  is  the  power  of  constructing 
the  images  that  accompany  thought,  always,  however,  out  of  elements 
ultimately  drawn  from  sensation.     Cf.  Introduction,  On  Imagination. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

If  one  intends  to  make  an  investigation  of  the  faculties  of 
the  soul,  it  is  necessary  first  to  inquire  into  their  several 
natures,  and  then  by  the  same  method  to  inquire  further 
into  other  related  problems.  If,  then,  one  is  obliged  to 
describe  the  nature  of  each  several  faculty,  e.g.  the 
nature  of  the  faculty  of  reason,  of  sense-perception,  or  of 
nutrition,  one  must  first  be  able  to  say  what  thinking 
and  sense-perception  mean.  For  the  activities  and  pro- 
cesses are  notionally  prior  to  the  faculties  to  which  they 
belong.  If  this  is  true,  we  must  further  observe  the  2 
objects  of  the  activities  before  the  activities  themselves, 
and  we  should  for  the  same  reason  first  determine  our 
position  regarding  these  objects,  e.g.  regarding  food,  the 
sensible,  and  the  intelligible.  First,  then,  we  must  speak 
of  food  and  generation.  For  the  nutritive  power  is  found 
in  all  living  things,  and  is  the  primary  and  most  uni- 
versal faculty  of  soul,  by  virtue  of  which  all  creatures  3 
possess  life.  Its  functions  are  to  procreate,  and  to  assimi- 
late food.  In  all  animals  that  are  perfect  and  not 
abnormal,  or  that  are  not  spontaneously  generated,  it  is  the 
most  natural  function  to  beget  another  being  similar  to 

57 


58 


ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY 


DE  ANIMA 


itself,  an  animal  to  beget  another  animal,  a  plant  another 
plant,  in  order  that  they  attain,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
4*5^  immortal  and  divine1;  for  this  is  what  every  creature 
4  aims  at,  and  this  is  the  final  cause  of  every  creature's 
natural  life.  We  understand  by  final  cause  two  things : 
the  purpose  aimed  at,  and  the  person  who  is  served  by 
the  purpose.2  Since  it  is  impossible  for  an  individual  to 
partake  of  the  immortal  and  divine  in  its  own  continuous 
life,  because  no  perishable  creature  continues  self-identical 
and  numerically  one,  it  partakes  therefore  of  the  immortal 
in  that  way  in  which  it  is  able  to  share  it,  one  thing  in  a 
higher  degree  and  another  in  a  lower ;  it  does  not  itself 
abide,  but  only  a  similar  self  abides ;  in  its  continuity  it 
is  not  numerically,  but  only  specifically,  one. 
r^  The  soul  is  the  cause  and  principle  of  a  living  body. 
These  terms  are  used  in  several  senses.  Corresponding 
to  these  differences,  the  soul  is  referred  to  as  cause  in 
three  distinct  meanings ;  for  it  is  cause  in  the  sense  of 
the  source  of  movement,  of  final  cause,  and  as  the  real 
6  substance  of  animate  bodies.3  That  it  is  a  cause  in  the 
sense  of  real  substance  is  evident,  for  real  substance  is  in 
every  case  the  cause  of  being,  and  the  being  of  animals  is 
their  life,  and  soul  is  the  cause  and  principle  of  life. 
Furthermore,  it_is  the  complete  realization  that  gives  us 
the  real  significance  of  a  potential  being.       Soul  is  also 

1  The  only  immortality  possible  for  animals  unendowed  with  Active 
Reason  is  that  of  the  perpetuation  of  their  species  through  propaga- 
tion. 

2  For  example,  the  end  or  purpose  of  a  lamp  may  be  said  to  be  either 
(a)  to  give  light,  or  (6)  to  serve  the  wants  of  the  person  who  employs 
the  light. 

3  In  other  words,  soul  is  used  in  the  meanings  of  efficient,  final,  and 
formal  cause. 


bk.  ii.  ch.  iv.  SOUL   AND   FINAL   CAUSE  59 

evidently  cause  in  the  sense  of  final  cause.  For  nature, 
like  reason,  acts  with  purpose,  and  this  purpose  is  its  end. 
In  animals  the  soul  is,  by  virtue  of  its  nature,  a  principle  7 
similar  to  this.  For  the  soul  uses  all  natural  bodies  as 
its  instruments,  the  bodies  of  animals  and  the  bodies  of 
plants  alike,  which  exist  for  the  soul  as  their  end.  End 
is  used  in  two  senses :  the  purpose,  and  the  person  or 
thing  which  the  purpose  serves.  Soul  also  means  the  8 
primary  source  of  local  movement.  This  power  of  local 
movement  is  not  possessed  by  all  living  creatures.  Trans- 
formation and  growth  are  also  due  to  the  soul.  For 
sense-perception  is  supposed  to  be  a  kind  of  trans- 
formation, and  nothing  is  capable  of  sense-perception  9 
unless  it  has  a  soul.  The  case  is  similar  with  growth 
and  decay.  For  nothing  grows  or  decays  by  natural 
processes  unless  it  admit  of  nutrition,  and  nothing  is 
capable  of  nutrition  unless  it  has  a  soul.  Empedocles 
ascribes  downward  growth  to  plants  where  they  are  rooted, 
because  the  earth  naturally  tends  downward,  and  upward  416  a 
growth,  because  fire  tends  in  that  direction,  and  in  these 
respects  is  not  right.  For  Empedocles  does  not  employ 
the  terms  up  '  and  '  down  '  correctly.  '  Up '  and  '  down  '  10 
are  not  the  same  for  all  things  nor  in  all  parts  of  the 
universe,  for  roots  are  to  plants  what  the  head  is  to  animals, 
if  one  is  to  describe  organs  as  identical  or  different  in  terms 
of  their  functions.  In  addition,  what  principle  is  it  that  n 
holds  together  these  two  elements  of  fire  and  earth, 
tending,  as  they  do,  in  opposite  directions  ?  For  they 
will  scatter  asunder,  if  there  be  no  hindering  principle. 
And  if  there  is  such  a  principle,  it  is  the  soul  and  the 
cause  of  growth  and  nourishment.      Some  regard  fire  as  12 


60  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

the  real  cause  of  nutrition  and  growth.  For  this  seems 
to  be  the  only  body  or  element  that  feeds  and  increases 
itself.  One  might,  therefore,  conjecture  that  this  is  the 
element  that  causes  growth  and  nutrition  in  animals  and 

13  plants.  In  a  certain  sense,  it  is  true,  fire  is  a  co-ordinate 
cause,  but  not  the  absolute  cause,  of  growth ;  this  is  rather 
the  soul.  For  the  growth  of  fire  is  indeterminate  so  long 
as  there  is  material  to  burn  ;  on  the  other  hand,  in  all 
bodies  developed  in  nature  there  is  a  limit  and  signifi- 
cance to  size  and  growth.  These  attributes  ([of  limit  and 
significance])  belong  to  soul,  not  to  fire,  to  reason  rather 
than  to  matter. 

14  Since  the  same  power  of  the  soul  is  both  nutritive  and 
generative,  we  must  first  investigate  nutrition  ;  for  it  is 
by  this  function  of  nutrition  that  the  faculty  in  question 
is  distinguished  from  other  faculties.     Nutrition  is  sup- 

15  posed  to  take  place  by  the  law  of  opposites,  although  not 
every  opposite  is  nourished  by  every  other,  but  such 
opposites  only  as  derive  both  their  origin  and  their 
growth  from  each  other.1  Many  things  are  derived 
from    one    another,   but   they    are    not    all    quantitative 

16  changes,  as   e.g.   healthy  from   sickly.     Nutrition  is  not 

1  The  body  is  composed  of  all  four  elements  and  its  nourishment 
must  include  all  of  them.  The  animal  waste  is  supplied  out  of  these 
several  elements,  which  are  themselves  characterized  by  opposite 
qualities,  by  means  of  the  action  of  heat  and  cold.  Blood  is  the  final 
form  into  which  vital  heat  cooks  the  raw  food.  Aristotle  makes  really 
little  use  of  the  physical  explanations  of  the  Pre-Socratics,  who  were 
satisfied  to  explain  all  cosmical  phenomena  by  such  opposing  forces  in 
nature  as  heat  and  cold,  the  moist  and  dry,  the  heavy  and  light,  etc. 
Although  Aristotle  still  makes  use  of  these  ideas,  in  his  dynamical 
theory  he  sees  the  world  full  of  final  causes,  while  the  purely  physical 
forces  of  the  Pre-Socratics  are  merely  the  instruments  employed  by  soul 
or  life. 


bk.ii.  ch.iv.        THE    SOUL   AND   NUTRITION  61 

applied  to  these  cases  in  the  same  sense,  for  while  water 
is  nutriment  for  fire,  fire  does  not  nourish  water.  The 
opposites  of  food  and  nourishment  appear  to  apply  par- 
ticularly to  simple  bodies.  There  is,  however,  a  difficulty  17 
here.  For  there  are  some  who  maintain  that  like  is 
nourished  by  like,  as  like  is  also  increased  by  like,  while 
others,  as  we  said,  affirm  the  converse  of  this,  viz.,  that 
opposites  are  nourished  by  opposites,  on  the  ground 
that  like  is  incapable  of  being  affected  by  like.  Food, 
however,  undergoes  transformation  and  is  digested,  and 
transformation  is  in  every  case  toward  the  opposite  or  18 
the  intermediate.  Further,  food  is  affected  by  the  body 
which  assimilates  it ;  the  latter,  however,  is  not  affected 
by  the  food,  just  as  the  builder  is  not  affected  by  his  416  b 
material,  although  the  material  undergoes  change  through 
him.  The  builder  merely  passes  from  a  state  of  in- 
activity into  one  of  activity.  The  question  whether 
nourishment  is  to  be  understood  to  apply  to  the  final  19 
condition  in  which  it  is  taken  up  by  the  body,  or  to  its 
original  condition,  creates  a  difficulty.  If  both  are 
meant,  only  in  the  one  case  the  food  is  indigested  and 
in  the  other  digested,  it  would  be  possible  to  speak  of 
nourishment  conformably  to  both  of  the  above  theories ; 
for  in  so  far  as  it  is  indigested,  we  should  have  opposite 
nourished  by  opposite ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  digested,  we 
should  have  like  nourished  by  like ;  so  that  in  a  certain  20 
sense,  it  is  evident  they  are  both  right  and  both  wrong. 
Since  nothing  is  nourished  which  does  not  share  life,  the 
object  of  nutrition  would  be  an  animate  body  as 
animate;  so  that  food  is  determined  by  its  relation  to  an 
animate    object    and    is     not    accidental.       There    is    a 


62  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

21  difference  between  the  nourishment  and  the  principle  of 
growth ;  in  so  far  as  the  animate  thing  is  quantitative, 
the  notion  of  growth  applies  ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  particular 
substance,  the  notion  of  nourishment.  For  food  pre- 
serves a  being  as  a  substantial  thing,  and  it  continues  to 
exist  so  long  as  it  is  nourished.  Nourishment  is  pro- 
ductive of  generation,  not  the  generation  of  the  nourished 
thing,   but   of  a  being   similar   to   it.       For  the  former 

22  exists  already  as  a  reality,  and  nothing  generates,  but 
merely  preserves,  itself.  So  then,  such  a  principle  of  the 
soul  as  we  have  described  is  a  power  capable  of  pre- 
serving that  in  which  this  principle  is  found,  in  so  far  as 
it  is  found ;  nourishment  equips  it  for  action.      When, 

23  therefore,  it  is  deprived  of  nourishment,  it  can  no  longer 
exist.  Since  there  are  three  distinct  things  here :  the 
object  nourished,  the  means  of  nourishment,  and  the 
power  that  causes  nutrition,  we  shall  say  that  it  is 
the  elemental  soul  that  causes  nutrition,  the  object 
nourished  is  the  body  which  possesses  this  soul,  and  the 
means  of  nourishment  is  the  food.  And  since  it  is  fair 
to  give  everything  a  name  in  terms  of  its  end,  and  since 
here  the  end  of  the  soul  is  to  generate  a  creature  like  to 
itself,  the   elemental  soul   might  be  called  generative  of 

24  that  which  is  like  to  itself.  The  means  of  nourishment 
is  used  in  two  senses,  as  is  also  the  means  of  steering  a 
ship ;  for  one  may  refer  to  the  hand,  or  to  the  rudder, 
the  one  being  both  actively  moving  and  moved ;  the  other 
only  passively  moved.  All  nutriment  must  be  capable 
of  being  digested  ;  heat  is  the  element  which  accom- 
plishes digestion.  Everything  animate,  therefore,  pos- 
sesses  heat.     We  have  explained  now,  in   outline,  what 


bk.  ii.  ch.  iv.         PRINCIPLE   OF    NUTRITION  63 

nutriment    is.      The    subject   must    be    more    minutely 
treated  later  on  in  its  proper  place.1 

1  Simplicius  thinks  the  reference  is  to  De  gener.  animal,  and  De  gener. 
et  corr.  Sophonias  refers  to  De  gener.  animal.  (724a  14).  The  reference 
can  hardly  be  to  ITepi  Tpo<f>r)s  as  Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire  (who  follows 
Trendelenburg)  supposes.  This  latter  treatise  appears  to  have  origin- 
ated in  the  Peripatetic  School,  but  from  the  fact  that  it  made  the 
distinction  between  veins  and  arteries  it  cannot  have  been  Aristotelian, 
and  the  reference  in  De  somn.  456?>  5  must  have  been  either  to  a  pro- 
jected work  or  to  the  early  chapters  of  the  Histor.  anim.  or  to  the 
treatises  enumerated  by  Simplicius.  Cf.  Zeller's  Aristotle,  Eng.  tr., 
Vol.  I.  p.  92,  note. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Now  that  we  have  arrived  at  the  foregoing  conclusions, 
let  us  discuss  in  general  the  entire  question  of  sense- 
perception.  It  consists,  as  we  have  said,  in  being  moved 
and  affected ;  for  it  is  supposed  to  be  a  sort  of  internal 
transformation.  Some  maintain  that  like  is  affected  by 
4iya  like.  In  what  sense  this  is  possible  and  in  what  sense 
impossible,  I  have  explained   in   a   general    treatise    On 

2  Activity  and  Passivity.1  A  difficulty  is  raised  by  the 
question  why  it  is  that  perceptions  do  not  arise  from  the 
senses  themselves,  and  why  it  is  that  without  external 
stimuli  they  produce  no  sensation,  although  fire  and 
earth,  and  the  other  elements  of  which  we  have  sense- 
perception,  are,  either  in  their  essential  nature  or  in  their 
attributes,  found  in  the  senses.  It  is,  therefore,  evident 
that   the  organ   of   sense-perception  is   not   a    thing   in 

3  actuality  but  only  in  potentiality.  It  is  consequently 
analogous  to  the  combustible  which  does  not  itself 
ignite  without  something  to  set  it  ablaze.  Otherwise 
it  would   have    burned    itself  and  had   no  need    of    an 

1  Philoponus    thinks    the    reference    is    to    Be    yener.    et   corr.    (cf. 

3236  ff.). 

64 


bk.  ii.  ch.  v.  POTENTIAL    AND    ACTUAL  65 

active  fire.  Inasmuch  as  we  say  that  perceiving  is 
used  in  two  meanings  (e.g.  we  call  the  capacity  to 
hear  and  see,  hearing  and  sight,  although  they  may 
chance  to  be  dormant,  and  we  apply  the  same  terms 
where  the  senses  are  actively  exercised),  so  sense- 
perception  also  would  be  used  in  two  senses,  the  one  \ 
potential  and  the  other  actual.  First  of  all  let  us 
understand  that  the  terms  affection,  motion,  and  activity, 
are  used  in  the  same  meaning.  For  motion  is  a  sort  of 
activity,  although  incomplete,  as  we  have  said  elsewhere.1 
Everything  is  affected  and  set  in  motion  by  an  active 
agent  and  by  something  that  exists  in  activity.  .  There-  5 
fore  in  one  sense  a  thing  is  affected  by  like,  in  another 
by  unlike,  as  we  have  said ;  for  it  is  the  unlike  that  is 
affected,  but  after  being  affected  it  is  like. 

We  must,  further,  make  a  distinction  touching  potenti- 
ality and  actuality,  for  we  are  now  using  these  terms  in 
a  general  sense.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  we  speak  of  6 
a  thing  as  knowing,  as  when  we  call  man  knowing, 
because  man  belongs  to  the  class  of  creatures  that  know 
and  are  endowed  with  knowledge.  There  is  another  sense 
in  which  we  speak  of  a  man  as  possessing  the  particular 
knowledge  of  grammar.  In  each  of  these  cases  a  man  7 
possesses  knowledge  potentially,  but  not  in  the  same 
sense ;  the  former  is  knowing  as  belonging  to  a  certain 
genus  and  as  having  a  native  endowment ;  the  latter  is 
knowing  in  the  sense  of  being  able  to  exercise  his  know- 
ledge at  will,  when  nothing  external  prevents.  In  a  still 
different  sense  there  is  the  man  who  is  actually  exercising 
his  knowledge,  and  is  in  a  condition  of  complete  realiza- 

1  Phys.  2016  31,  2576  8. 


66  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

tion,  having  in  the  strict  sense  knowledge  of  a  particular 

8  thing,  as  e.g.  A.  The  first  two  know  in  a  potential  sense ; 
the  one  of  them,  however,  knows  when  he  is  transformed 
through  a  discipline  of  knowledge,  and  has  passed  re- 
peatedly out  of  an  opposite  condition ;  the  other  knows 

417^  in  the  sense   of  possessing   arithmetical  or  grammatical 
science  j1    and    their  passing    from   non-actual  to   actual 

9  knowledge  is  different.  Again,  neither  is  the  term  '  pass- 
ivity '  used  in  an  absolute  meaning :  in  one  meaning  it  is 
destruction  by  an  opposite  principle ;  in  another  meaning, 
it  is  the  preservation  of  the  potentially  existent  by  means 
of  the  actual  and  similar,  just  as  potentiality  is  related  to 
actuality.  That  which  possesses  potential  knowledge,  for 
instance,  comes  to  the  actual  use  of  it — a  transition  that 
we  must  either  not  call  transformation  (for  the  added 
element  belongs  to  its  own  nature  and  tends  to  its  own 
realization),  or  else  we  must  call  it  a  special  kind  of 
transformation.  It  is,  therefore,  incorrect  to  speak  of 
thinking  as  a  transformation  when  one  thinks,  just  as  the 
builder  is  not  transformed  when  he  is  building  a  house. 

10  That  which  conduces  to  actualization  out  of  a  potential 

1  These  three  forms  of  knowledge  illustrate  three  stages  in  the 
passage  from  undefined  potentiality  (5wa/zis)  to  complete  and  definite 
actuality  (evepyeia).  From  mere  rational  potentiality,  in  which  one  has 
no  definite  latent  knowledge,  one  passes  into  a  knowing  state  by 
repeated  application  to  a  given  science,  and  so  from  a  non-knowing 
condition  into  a  knowing  one.  On  the  other  hand,  if  one  possesses  a 
particular  science,  as  grammar,  one  has  definite  latent  knowledge  and 
passes  into  active  knowing,  not  by  acquisition,  but  by  applying  what 
one  possesses  in  a  dormant  or  inactive  state.  As  a  specific  potentiality 
it  represents  a  higher  stage  in  the  progress  towards  actuality,  which  in 
this  case  is  the  active  exercise  of  specific  knowledge.  The  primary 
potentiality  is  a  person  teachable,  the  second  a  person  taught,  and  the 
actuality  is  a  person  actively  employing  what  is  taught. 


ek.  ii.  ch.  v.  SENSATION    AND    THOUGHT  67 

state  in  the  matter  of  reasoning  and  thinking  is  not  fairly 
called  teaching,  but  must  be  given  another  name.  Again, 
that  which  passes  out  of  a  potential  state  by  learning  or  by 
acquiring  knowledge  at  the  hands  of  what  actually  knows 
and  can  teach,  must  either  not  be  said  to  be  affected  as 
a  passive  subject,  or  we  must  admit  two  meanings  of 
transformation,  the  one  a  change  into  a  negative  condi- 
tion, and  the  other  into  a  positive  condition  and  the 
thing's  natural  state.1 

The  first  change2  in  the  sentient  subject  is  wrought  n 
by  the  generating  parent,  but  after  birth  the  creature 
comes  into  the  possession  of  sense-perception  as  a  species 
of  knowledge.  Active  sensation  is  used  in  a  way  similar 
to  active  thinking.  There  is,  however,  this  difference, 
that  the  objects  which  produce  sensation  are  external, 
e.g.  the  visible  and  the  audible,  and  similarly  other 
sensible  qualities.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  active  12 
sense-perception  refers  to  particular  things,  while  scientific^ 
knowledge  refers  to  the  universal.    The^e_universals,  how-    >Ua1^Jc 

ever,  are,  in  a  certain  sense,  in  the  mind  itself.     There-     kA^-  Q 

< —1 —  <r^)  ,      -  t   . 

fore  it  is  in  one's  power  to  think  when  one  wills,  but  to      &  ^CU^^^J 


experience  sense-perception  is  not  thus  in  one's  power ; 
for  a  sensible  object  must  first  be  present.  This  also  holds 
good  of  those  sciences  which  deal  with  sensible  realities, 
and    for    the    same    reason,  viz.  because    these    sensible 

lAiadecns  signifies  a  transitional  condition  and  e£ts  a  permanent, 
natural  state.  The  former  is  either  mere  potentiality  or  an  imperfect 
stage  in  the  passage  of  a  thing  towards  its  natural  realization.  As  such 
it  represents  a  condition  of  privation  or  negation  {aTeprjTLKri),  compared 
with  the  positive,  completed  state  at  which  a  thing's  nature  aims. 

2  By  '  first  change '  is  here  meant  the  native  endowment  with  the 
potentiality  to  perceive  and  know. 


68  ARISTOTLE  S     PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

13  realities  belong  to  the  world  of  particular  and  external 
phenomena. 

To  go  into   the  details  of  these  questions  would   be 
more  suitable  at  another  time.      For  the  present  so  much 
may  be  regarded  as  fixed,  viz.  that  the  term  '  potential ' 
is  not  used  in  any  absolute  sense,  but  in  one  case  its 
meaning  is  similar  to  our  saying  that  a  boy  has  in  him 
the  potentiality  of  a  general,  and  in  another  case  to  our 
saying  that  a  man  in  his  prime  has  that  potentiality — a 
distinction  which  also  applies  to  the  capacity  for  sense- 
*4  perception.     Inasmuch  as  this  distinction  has  no  particular 
418  tf  name  in  our  language,  although  we  have  remarked  that 
the  things  are  different  and  how   they  differ,  we  must 
simply  employ  the  terms  affection  and  transformation  as 
applicable    here.      That   which   is   capable    of  sense-per- 
ception is,  as  we  have  said,  potentially  what  the  sensible . 
.     ^us  actually.     It  is,  therefore,  affected  at  a  moment  when 
<wjJ3,v^  it  is  unlike,  but  when  it  has  been  affected  it  becomes  like 
\J\fi.  -  and  is  as  its  object.1 


t 


1  In  other  words,  sensation  represents  an  '  affection ;  or  impression, 
and  is  the  transformation  of  a  potentially  perceiving  into  an  actually 
perceiving  subject,  in  which  case  the  sensible  object  is  also  converted 
or  assimilated  into  a  knowledge-form.  In  this  sense  it  is  made  like 
the  perceiving  subject. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

In  discussing  any  form  of  sense-perception  we  must 
begin  with  the  sensible  object.  The  '  object  of  sense ' 
is  used  in  three  meanings,  two  of  which  touch  the 
essential  nature  of  sensation  and  one  its  accidents.  Of 
the  two  first-named,  one  applies  specially  to  each  par- 
ticular sense,  the  other  is  common  to  them  all.  By 
4  peculiar  object  of  sense '  I  mean  a  sense-quality  which  2 
cannot  be  apprehended  by  a  sense  different  from  that 
to  which  it  belongs,  and  concerning  which  that  sense 
cannot  be  deceived,  e.g.  colour  is  the  peculiar  object  of 
vision,  sound  of  hearing,  flavour  of  taste.  Touch,1  how- 
ever, discriminates  several  sense-qualities.  The  other 
particular  senses,  on  the  contrary,  distinguish  only  their 
peculiar  objects,  and  the  senses  are  not  deceived  in  the 
fact  that  a  quality  is  colour  or  sound,  although  they  may 
be  deceived  as  to  what  or  where  the  coloured  or  sonorous 
object  may  be.  Such  qualities  are  called  the  peculiar  3 
objects  of  particular  senses,  whereas  common  objects  are 

1  Touch  distinguishes  the  properties  of  body  as  body  {De  an.  4236 
27),  more  specifically  the  qualities  hard  and  soft,  moist  and  dry,  hot 
and  cold,  smooth  and  rough.  Moreover,  taste  is,  according  to  Aristotle, 
a  kind  of  haptic  function. 

69 


70  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

motion,  rest,  number,  form,  magnitude.  Properties  of 
the  latter  kind  are  not  the  peculiar  objects  of  any  sense, 
4  but  are  common  to  them  all.  Motion  is  apprehended  by 
touch  and  by  sight.  A  thing  is  an  object  of  sense 
accidentally,  e.g.  when  a  white  object  proves  to  be  the 
son  of  Diares.  The  latter  is  perceived  accidentally,  for 
the  person  whom  one  perceives  is  an  accident  of  the  white 
object.  Therefore,  the  sense  as  such  is  not  affected  by 
the  sensible  object  ([as  a  person]).  To  the  objects  of  sense, 
strictly  regarded,  belong  such  properties  as  are  peculiarly 
and  properly  sense-qualities,  and  it  is  with  these  that  the 
essential  nature  of  each  sense  is  naturallv  concerned. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

The  object  of  vision  is  the  visible.  The  visible  is  colour 
and  something  whose  notion  is  expressible,  but  for  which 
there  is  no  single  definite  name.1  What  I  mean  will  be 
best  explained  as  we  proceed.  The  visible,  then,  is  colour, 
and  this  is  diffused  upon  that  which  is  in  itself  visible,2 
and  by  visible  '  in  itself,'  I  do  not  mean  notionally 
visible,  but  something  which  has  in  itself  the  cause  of  the 
visible.  All  colour  has  the  power  to  move  the  actually  4I8£ 
diaphanous  and  herein  consists  its  nature.  Therefore  colour  2 
is  not  visible  without  light,  but  every  particular  colour  is 
seen  in  the  light.  For  this  reason  we  must  first  explain 
what  light  is.  Light  is  something  diaphanous.  By  dia- 
phanous I  mean  that  which  is  visible,  though  not  in  itself  and 
absolutely,  but  only  by  means  of  an  agent,  namely  colour. 
Of  such  nature  is  air  and  water  and  many  other  bodies.  3 
Water  and  air  are  not  diaphanous  as  water  and  air,  but 
because  there  is  in  both  these  elements  the  same  property 
that  is  found  in  the  eternal  empyrean.     The  activity  of 

1Such  phosphorescent  and  scintillating  substances  as  mushrooms, 
horn,  fish-heads,  etc.      Vid.  De  an.  419a  5. 

2  Colour  is  not  a  substance  but  a  property,  a  property  diffused  on  the 
surface  of  a  body  and  has  the  power  to  move  a  diaphanous  medium.  It 
is  the  coloured  thing  which  is  the  substance  or  the  per  se  visible. 

71 


72  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

4  this  diaphanous,  as  such,  is  light.  But  where  the 
diaphanous  exists  only  potentially,  there  is  darkness. 
Light  is  the  colour,  as  it  were,  of  the  diaphanous,  when 
the  diaphanous  is  made  really  so  by  fire  or  by  some  such 
agent  as   the  supernal   body,  for   in  the   supernal   body 

5  there  is  something  which  is  identical  with  fire.  The 
nature  of  the  diaphanous,  therefore,  and  of  light  has  been 
explained.  Light  is,  namely,  neither  fire  nor  in  a  word 
any  body  nor  the  efflux  of  any  body1  (for  this  would  then 
also  be  a  body),  but  it  is  the  presence  of  fire  or  some 
such  agent  in  a  diaphanous  medium.  For  two  bodies  can- 
not occupy  the  same  place  at  the  same  time.  Light  appears 
to  be  the  opposite  of  darkness.  Darkness  is  the  privation 
of  a  condition  of  the  diaphanous,  the  presence  of  which 

6  condition  is  light.  Empedocles2  is  wrong,  as  is  every  one 
else  who  has  held  a  like  theory,  in  thinking  that  light 
moves  itself  and  at  some  time  or  other  projected  itself 
into  the  interval  between  the  earth  and  the  surrounding 
space,  without  our  being  conscious  of  it.  For  this  is 
contrary  to  plain  reason  and  to  observed  facts.  In 
a  small  space,  the  fact  might  escape  us,  but  in  an 
interval  that  extends  from  east  to  west,  to  claim  that  the 

7  fact  escapes  our  notice  is  asking  too  much.  It  is  the 
colourless  that  is  receptive  of  colour,  and  the  non- 
sonorous  that  is  capable  of  sound.  Colourless  are  the 
diaphanous  and  the  invisible,  or  that  which  is  scarcely 
visible,  as  for  example,  the  dark.  Of  such  nature  is  the 
diaphanous,  but  only  when  it  is  so  potentially  and  not 

1  Plato,  Timaeus  67  C. 

2  Burnet  thinks  that  Empedocles  was  led  to  suppose  that  light  takes 
some  time  to  travel,  although  its  speed  is  so  great  as  to  be  imperceptible, 
by  this  theory  of  "effluences."    Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philos.  p.  255. 


bk.  ii.  CH.vii.  VISION    AND  ITS    MEDIUM  73 

actually.  For  the  same  medium  is  sometimes  dark  and 
sometimes  light.  Not  all  objects  are  visible  in  the  light,  8 
but  only  the  peculiar  colour  of  each  object.  For  certain  419 « 
objects  are  not  visible  in  the  light,  but  stimulate  sensa- 
tion in  the  dark,1  as  e.g.  those  fiery,  shining  phenomena 
that  have  no  class-designation  such  as  mushrooms,  horn, 
and  the  heads,  scales,  and  eyes  of  fish,  while  the  peculiar 
colour  of  none  of  these  objects  is  seen.  The  explanation  9 
of  their  visibility  is  subject  for  a  different  treatise  than 
the  present.  So  much  is  now  clear :  it  is  colour  that  is 
visible  in  light.  Therefore  without  light  colour  is  not 
visible.  For  it  is  the  essence  of  colour  to  set  the 
actually  diaphanous  in  motion,  and  the  diaphanous  in 
actuality  is  light.  Clear  evidence  of  this  is  the  fact  that  10 
if  one  places  a  coloured  object  on  the  eye,  it  is  not  seen. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  diaphanous,  as  e.g.  the  air, 
which  is  stimulated  by  colour,  and  the  sense  organ  is 
stimulated  by  this  contiguous  medium.  Democritus  is 
wrong,  then,  in  supposing  that  if  the  medium  were  a 
vacuum  our  vision  would  be  accurate,  even  to  the  seeing 
of  an  ant  in  the  sky.  This  is  impossible,  for  vision  takes 
place  from  the  fact  that  the  percipient  organ  undergoes  u 
an  effect,  and  this  effect  cannot  be  produced  directly  by 
the  visible  colour.  So  that  there  remains  only  the 
supposition  that  it  is  produced  by  a  medium,  and  conse- 
quently there  must  be  a  medium.  And  were  a  vacuum 
produced,  there  would  not  only  be  no  accurate  vision,  but 
no  vision  at  all.2 

1  Phosphorescent  substances. 

2  Aristotle  says  there  are  three  things  to  be  taken  into  account  in  sense- 
perception — the  organ,  the  object,  and  the  medium,  all  of  which  are 
condiciones  sine  quibus  non.     The  medium  of  vision  is  the  diaphanous  or 


74  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

12  The  reason  why  colour  is  visible  only  in  the  light  has 
been  explained.  Fire,  however,  is  visible  in  both  light 
and  darkness,  and  necessarily  so,  for  it  is  by  the  agency 
of  fire  that   the  diaphanous   becomes    diaphanous.      The 

13  same  statement  applies  also  to  sound  and  smell.  For 
nothing  when  placed  in  actual  contact  with  the  sense- 
organ  produces  the  sensation  of  sound  or  smell,  but  by 
means  of  odour  and  sound  a  medium  is  set  in  motion  and 
through  this  the  sense  organ  in  each  case  is  affected. 
But  if  one  should  place  a  sonorous  or  odorous  object  on 
the  sense  organ  itself,  no  sensation  would  be  produced. 
In  the  case  of  touch  and  taste,  similar  conditions  hold 
good,  although    not    apparently.        The    reason  for  this 

14  will  be  evident  later.  The  medium  for  sound  is  the 
atmosphere ;  the  medium  for  smell  has  no  name.  It  is 
an  element  that  is  common  to  air  and  water,  and  as 
the  diaphanous  is  related  to  colour,  so  there  is  a  some- 
thing in  water  and  air  similarly  related  to  an  odorous 
body.      For  aquatic  animals  appear  to  be  capable  of  the 

4I9£  sensation  of  smell.  But  man  and  the  respiring  land- 
animals  smell  only  in  so  far  as  they  employ  inspiration. 
The  cause  of  these  phenomena  will  be  explained  later  on. 

property  of  translucence  found  in  air  and  water,  a  quality  analogous  to 
that  found  in  the  aether  of  the  empyrean  and  in  fire.  The  media  of 
hearing  (4196  18,  420a  11)  and  smell  are  air  and  water,  and  the  medium 
of  touch  (and  taste)  is  the  flesh.  In  this  connection  it  is  to  be  noted 
that,  while  both  air  and  water  serve  as  media  for  smell,  only  air  is  a 
medium  for  man,  and  only  water  a  medium  for  the  aquatic  animals. 
Man  cannot  smell  in  water.  Cf.  De  an.  4216  8,  15,  19 ;  422a  4  -v 
Hist.  anim.  534a  11. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Let  us  now  first  of  all  discuss  the  subject  of  sound  and 
hearing.  Sound  is  twofold.  It  is  one  thing  in  actuality, 
and  another  in  potentiality.  Some  things,  we  say,  are 
incapable  of  sound,  such  as  a  sponge  or  wool,  others  are 
resonant,  such  as  bronze  and  bodies  that  are  hard  and 
smooth,  because  they  can  emit  sound ;  that  is,  they  have 
the  power  to  create  an  actual  sound  through  mediation  2 
between  the  resonant  object  and  the  hearing.  The  actual  1 
sound  is  always  produced  by  something  in  reference  to 
something  and  in  a  medium.1  A  blow  is  the  producing 
cause.  It  is,  therefore,  impossible  for  an  object,  taken 
alone,  to  produce  a  sound,  for  the  striking  agent  and  the 
struck  object  are  different.  Thus  the  sonorous  body  pro- 
duces sound  by  its  relation  to  another  body.  A  blow  is  3 
impossible  without  movement,  and,  as  we  have  said,  sound 
does  not  result  from  a  blow  upon  any  haphazard  object. 
Wool,  e.g.   when  struck  produces  no   sound,  but   bronze 

1  Theophrastus  and  the  peripatetic  commentators  introduced  the 
term  5t7/%es  to  describe  the  medium  of  sound  and  dioafiov  to  describe  the 
medium  of  smell.  Cf.  Themistius,  ed.  Spengel,  p.  115.  Simplicius 
Comment  in  lib.  De  an.,  419a  32.  Philoponus  Comment  in  lib.  De  an. 
(Ed.  Acad.  Reg.  Bor.),  355.  14. 

75 


76  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

and  whatever  is  hard  and  smooth  do.  Bronze  is  resonant 
because  it  is  smooth.  Hollow  bodies,  by  reverberation, 
produce  many  reports  after  the  first  one,  because  the  air, 
when    it    is   once    set    in    motion,   can   find    no    egress. 

4  Furthermore,  audition  takes  place  in  air  and  water,  but 
to  a  less  degree  in  the  latter.  But  neither  air  nor  water 
is  the  main  thing  in  the  case  of  sound.  The  percussion 
of  solid  bodies  against  each  other  and  against  the  air 
must  take  place,  and  this  takes  place  when  the  smitten 

5  air  resists  and  is  not  dissipated.  Therefore  if  it  is  struck 
quickly  and  violently  it  produces  sound,  for  the  motion  of 
the  striking  agent  must  anticipate  the  dispersion  of  the 
air,  as  if  one  were  to  strike  a  pile  or  rapidly  shifting 
chain  of  sand.  An  echo  is  produced  when  from  the  air 
which  is  made  unitary  by  means  of  the  vessel  that  confines 
it  and  keeps  it  from  dispersion,  an  oncoming  mass  of  air 
is  driven  back  again,  like  a  rebounding  ball.1     An  echo  is 

6  apparently  produced  constantly,  only  it  is  not  audible, 

1  Sound,  according  to  this  explanation,  is  produced  by  smooth, 
resisting  bodies.  The  production  of  sound  depends  on  the  following 
conditions  :  (1)  an  object  to  be  struck,  (2)  a  striking  agent,  (3)  a  com- 
municating medium,  (4)  a  hearing  organ,  (5)  the  delivery  of  the  blow 
.in  such  way  that  the  diffluent  air  (medium)  may  not  be  dissipated  and 
so  conduct  no  sound.  When  the  air  is  smitten  quickly  and  vigorously, 
it  is  compressed  before  it  can  yield,  and  so  emits  a  report,  as  the  com- 
pressed air  in  a  bladder  makes  a  report  on  bursting  (an  illustration 
cited  by  Wallace  from  Pacius).  An  echo  is  the  repercussion  of  air 
from  the  resisting  side  of  a  vessel  or  place  that  obstructs  the  dissipation 
of  air,  whereby  instead  of  becoming  soundless  it  is  thrown  back,  like  a 
ball,  and  made  to  sound  again.  The  disturbed  air  communicates  with 
the  air  in  the  ear,  which  being  fast  immured  cannot  be  dissipated, 
but  interprets  without  variation  the  reports  brought  to  it  by  the  move- 
ments of  the  external  air.  Disturbances  in  the  condition  of  the  internal 
air,  e.g.  through  yawning,  modify  the  accuracy  of  hearing.  We, 
also,  for  the  same  reason  hear  better  when  inhaling  than  when  exhaling 
{De  gener.  anim.  781a  31). 


bk.  ii.  ch.  viii.        SOUND    AND    ITS    MEDIUM  77 

for  the  same  conditions  hold  good  of  both  sound  and 
light.  Light  is  constantly  reflected  (otherwise  light 
would  not  be  found  everywhere,  but  there  would  be 
darkness  outside  the  region  illuminated  by  the  sun),  but 
the  reflection  is  not  similar  to  that  which  is  caused  by 
water  or  bronze  or  any  other  polished  solid,  where  a 
shadow  is  cast  whereby  the  light-area  is  delimited.  A  7 
void  is  correctly  regarded  as  a  chief  factor  in  hearing. 
Now,  the  air  appears  to  be  a  void,  and  this,  when  it 
is  moved  as  a  single  and  continuous  element,  is  what 
produces  hearing.  But,  because  of  the  swift  dissipation 
of  the  air,  no  sound  arises  unless  the  object  struck  be 
smooth.  In  this  case,  however,  the  air  by  reason  of  420  < 
the  even  surface,  is  made  one  throughout,  for  the  surface 
of  a  smooth  body  is  one  throughout. 

A  body  is  sonorous  when  it  is  capable  of  setting  in 
motion  up  to  the  organ  of  hearing  the  single  and  con- 
tinuous air.  Hearing  is  naturally  related  to  the  air,  and 
owing  to  the  fact  that  sound  is  in  the  air,  the  inner  air  8 
is  set  in  motion  by  the  moving  outside  air.  Therefore, 
an  animal  does  not  hear  in  all  parts  of  its  body,  neither 
does  the  air  penetrate  everywhere.  And  the  psychical 
organ  that  is  to  be  stimulated  does  not  contain  air  in  all 
its  parts.  The  air  in  and  for  itself  is,  by  reason  of  its 
facile  dispersion,  non-sonorous.  But  when  it  is  restrained 
from  dispersion,  its  motion  produces  sound.  The  air  9 
within  the  ears  is  so  deeply  immured  as  to  be  in  itself 
immovable,  in  order  that  it  may  detect  all  distinctions  in 
communicated  motions.  For  these  reasons  we  hear  in 
water,  because  the  water  has  no  access  to  the  congenital 
air,  nor  does  it  penetrate  even  into  the  ear  because  of  the 


78  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

latter's  convolutions.  When,  however,  this  does  happen, 
hearing  ceases.     Neither  do  we  hear  when  the  membrane 

io  is  diseased,  just  as  the  eye  has  no  vision  when  its  cornea 
is  diseased.  A  test  as  to  whether  hearing  is  intact  or  not 
is  found  in  the  ears'  continually  resounding  like  a  horn. 
The  air  in  the  ear  has  its  own  peculiar  motion,  although 
sound  is  foreign  to  this  internal  air  and  is  not  one  of  its 
properties.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  speak  of  hearing 
by  means  of  a  void  and  resonant  organ,  because  we  hear 
by  means  of  something  which  contains  confined  air.      The 

ii  question  arises  whether  it  is  the  striking  agent  or  the 
object  struck  that  produces  sound.  Or  is  it  both  of 
these,  but  each  in  a  different  sense  ?  Sound  is  a  sort  of 
motion  of  an  object  which  is  capable  of  being  moved  in 
the  same  way  as  the  particles  that  rebound  from  smooth 
surfaces  when  one  strikes  them.  Not  every  object,  as 
has  been  said,  produces  sound  when  struck  or  when 
striking  another  object,  as  e.g.  in  the  case  of  one  sharp 
point  striking  another.  On  the  contrary,  the  object  that 
is  struck  must  be  smooth,  so  that  the  air  may  be  thrown 

12  off  and  agitated  in  a  mass.  Distinctions  in  resonant 
bodies  are  discernible  in  the  actual  sound  they  pro- 
duce. As  without  light  no  colours  are  visible,  so  without 
sound  the  acute  and  grave  are  not  discernible.  These 
terms  are  employed  metaphorically  and  are  drawn  from 

13  the  tactual  sense.  The  acute  stimulates  sensation  quickly 
and  strongly,  and  the  grave  slowly  and  in  a  small  degree. 
It  is  not  the  acute,1  however,  that  is  quick  nor  the  grave 
that  is  slow,  but  merely  the  motion  of  the  one  is  called 

1  Perhaps   a   criticism    of   Plato   [Timaeus   67  C),    as    Trendelenburg 
thinks. 


bk.  ii.  ch.  viii.  DEFINITION    OF    VOICE  79 

quick  by  reason  of  its  swift  action  on  the  sense,  and  the 
other  is  called  slow  by  reason  of  its  tardy  action.  The 
analogy  appears  to  apply  to  acute  and  dull  in  the  sense 
of  touch.  The  acute  e.g.  pricks  and  the  blunt  pushes,  420  b 
as  it  were,  because  the  motion  of  the  one  is  quick  and  of 
the  other  slow,  so  that  the  effect  of  the  one  takes  place 
swiftly  and  of  the  other  tardily.  Let  so  much  suffice  for  14 
the  discussion  of  sound. 

Voice  is  the  sound  produced  by  a  living  being.  No  'v^n  c*JL\ 
inanimate  thing  has  voice,  unless  one  speaks  metaphori- 
cally, as  e.g.  the  flute,  lyre,  and  other  inanimate 
instruments  are  said  to  have  a  certain  range,  melody,  and 
expression,  properties  which  are  possessed  also  by  the 
voice.  Many  animals  are  without  voice,  as  the 
bloodless  animals,  and,  amongst  the  sanguineous,  fishes. 
This  has  its  good  reason,  seeing  that  sound  is  a  move-  15 
ment  of  the  air.  Fishes  that  are  said  to  have  voice, 
such  as  those  in  the  Achelous,1  produce  a  sound  by 
means  of  their  gills  or  some  such  organ.  Voice  is  the 
sound  made  by  a  living  creature,  and  made  not  by  any 
accidental  organ.  But  since  nothing  emits  sound  unless 
there  is  a  striking  agent,  a  thing  struck,  and  a  medium, 
viz.  air,  it  would  be  reasonable  to  suppose  that  only 
those  animals  that  breathe  air  possess  voice.  Now 
nature  employs  respiration  for  two  purposes,  just  as  she  16 
employs  the  tongue  both  for  the  function  of  taste  and  of 
speech,  of  which  functions  taste  is  necessary  (and  therefore 

deferred  to  in  Hist.  anim.  (Bk.  IV.  Ch.  9,  5356  18)  as  Kairpos,  said 
to  make  a  grunting  noise,  which  probably  suggested  the  name  {Kawpos 
meaning  primarily  a  wild  boar).  It  is  not  known  to  what  fish  this 
refers,  although  it  has  been  thought  to  be  the  capros  aper  of  the  Aegean 
Archipelago.     Cf.  Aubert  and  Wimmer's  Aristoteles'  Thierkunde,  p.  130. 


80  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

is  found  in  all  animals  generally),  whereas  the  communi- 
cation of  thought  is  given  for  the  ends  of  higher  living. 
So  it  is  with  respiration,  which  performs  a  function  in 
reference  to  the  internal  warmth,  and  as  such  is  neces- 
sary for  living  (the  reason  will  be  explained  elsewhere), 
and  another  function  in  reference  to  speech,  where  it 
subserves  the  ends  of  higher  living.     The  windpipe  is  the 

*7  organ  of  respiration,  and  this  organ  in  turn  subserves 
another,  the  lungs,  and  it  is  in  virtue  of  the  latter  that 
land  animals  have  more  heat  than  others.  The  pericardiac 
region  first  of  all  needs  respiration,1  and,  therefore,  it 
is  essential  that  the  air  be  inspired  inwards.  And 
so  it  is  the  percussion  of  the  inspired  air,  directed  by 
the   soul   in   those   inward   parts,  against    the  windpipe, 

18  as  it  is  called,  that  constitutes  voice.  Not  every  sound 
of  an  animal  is  voice,  as  we  have  said  (for  it  is  possible  to 
make  noises  with  the  tongue  or  such  as  people  make  in 
coughing),  but  the  impact  of  the  air  must  be  animate 
and  combined  with  some  idea  in  order  to  be  called  voice. 
For  voice  is  significantsounj  and  not  merely  the  sound 
of  respired  air,  as  is  the  case  in  coughing.  On  the 
contrary,  the  animal  by  means  of  this  respired  air  pro- 
421 a  duces  an  impact  of  the  air  already  in  the  windpipe  against 

1  The  organs  through  which  cooling  is  effected  are  the  brain  and 
lungs,  and  in  the  case  of  fishes  the  gills.  The  need  of  cooling  is 
found  in  different  degrees  in  different  animals.  Bloodless  animals  need 
it  least.  Insects  do  not  inhale,  but  they  are  provided  with  a  substitute 
for  inspiration  in  a  supply  of  congenital  air.  (De  respirat.  Ch.  9,  4:74th 
25  ff. )  The  lungs  of  mammals  contain  most  blood,  while  the  lungs  of 
birds  and  amphibious  creatures  are  more  spongy  and  contain  most  air. 
and  the  latter  can  consequently  live  longer  without  inspiring  air. 
The  air  is  carried  through  veins  that  lead  from  the  lungs  to  the  heart. 
Hist,  animal.  Bk.  I.  Ch.  17,  496a  27  ff. 


bk.  ii.  ch.  viii.  VOCAL    UTTERANCE  81 

the  trachea  itself.  This  is  proven  by  the  impossibility  19 
of  vocal  utterance  when  we  noithor  inhale  ee*-  exhale  but 
simply  hold  our  breath,  because  in  holding  the  breath  we 
thereby  disturb  this  vocal  process.  Also,  we  see  from 
this  why  it  is  that  the  fishes  have  no  voice,  being,  as 
they  are,  without  a  windpipe.  They  lack  this  organ, 
because  they  are  incapable  of  inhaling  or  exhaling  air. 
The  explanation  of  this  is  matter  for  a  different  treatise. 


K^ 


CHAPTEK   IX. 

Smell  and  its  object  are  less  easy  to  define  than  the 
foregoing  senses,  for  the  nature  of  smell  is  not  so  clear 
to  us  as  is  that  of  sound  and  colour.  The  reason  for  this 
is  the  fact  that  this  sense  with  us  is  inaccurate  and  less 
perfect  than  in  many  animals.  Man  has  a  poor  sense  of 
smell,  and  smells  no  odorous  object  without  painful  or 
pleasant    association,    because   the   sense-organ   does  not 

2  sharply  discriminate  qualities.  It  is  probable  that  the 
hard-eyed1  animals  discriminate  colours  in  the  same 
way,  and  that  distinctions  in  colour  are  not  clear  to  them 

3  except  as  they  have  the  feeling  of  fear  or  not.  So  it  is 
with  smell  in  the  human  race.  Smell  has  apparently 
some  analogy  to  taste,  and  the  species  of  flavours  corre- 
spond to  those  of  odours;  but  our  sense  of  taste  is  more 
accurate  because  it  is  a  sort  of  touch,  and  the  sense  of 
touch  is  the  most  accurately  developed  of  all  the  senses 
in  man.  In  the  case  of  the  other  senses,  man  is  inferior 
to  many  animals,  but  in  discriminations  of  touch  he  is 

4  far  superior  to  the  others.  For  this  reason  man  is  the 
most  intelligent  animal.  A  proof  of  this  is  the  fact  that 
within  the  human  race  the  good  or  bad  native  endow- 

1  Hist.   anim.    ii.    13,    505a    35 ;    iv.    10,  537&    12 ;    De  part.   anim. 
ii.   13,  6576  34.     Such  animals  have  no  eyelids,  as  e.g.  crabs. 

82 


bk.  ii.  ch.  ix.  THE    SENSE   OF   SMELL  83 

ment  of  individuals  depends  upon  this  sense  organ,  and 

no  other.      Men  who  have  hard  flesh  are  poorly  endowed  ioA^n 

intellectually,  men  who  have  soft  flesh  are  gifted.1 

As  one  flavour  is  sweet,  another  bitter,  so  it  is  with  5 
smells.      Although    in    some    cases    smell    and    flavour 
correspond  to  each  other, — I  mean,  for  example,  where 
we  have  a  sweet  smell  and  a  sweet  flavour, — in  other 
cases  they  are  contraries.     In  like  manner  we  refer  the 
qualities  of  pungent,  harsh,  piquant,  and  oily  to  smells  as  6 
well  as  to  flavours,  but,   as  we  have  said,  owing  to  the 
fact    that    smells    are    not    so    clearly   discriminated    as 
flavours,  these  terms  are  borrowed  from  taste  on  account 
of   similarity  in   the  sense  objects.      For   the   smell   of  421  b 
saffron  and  honey  is  sweet,  and  the  smell  of  thyme  and 
similar  herbs  is  pungent.     The  same  holds  good  of  other  7 
qualities.     Further,  just  as  hearing  and  each  particular 
sense  distinguishes  its  own  object,  in  the  one  case  the 
audible   and  inaudible,  in  another  case  the  visible  and 
invisible,   so   also    smell    distinguishes   the   odorous   and 
inodorous.     And  the  inodorous  is  so  called,  in  one  case, 
from   the   fact   that   it   is   totally   incapable  of  yielding 
smell ;    in   another   case   because   the   smell   is   faint  or 
indefinite.     Similarly  one  employs  the  term  insipid. 

Smell  is  transmitted  through  a  medium,  such  as  air  or  8 
water.  For  aquatic  animals  appear  to  smell ;  so,  too, 
sanguineous  and  bloodless  animals,  and  the  birds  of 
the  air,  have  this  sense.  Some  of  the  latter  are  endowed 
with  the  power  of  scent  and  mark  their  prey  from  afar. 
It  seems  doubtful,  therefore,  whether  the  process  of  smell  9 
in  all  these  animals  is  alike.     Man  smells  while  inhaling, 

1  Compare  our  expressions  'thick-skinned,'  'hide-bound,'  etc. 


84  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

but  without  inhaling  and  while  exhaling  or  holding  his 
breath,  he  does  not  smell,  whether  the  object  be  remote 
10  or  near,  not  even  if  it  be  placed  in  the  nose  itself.  That 
an  object  when  placed  upon  the  sense-organ  itself  is  not 
perceived,  is  a  fact  common  to  all  the  animals.  But  not 
to  perceive  odours  without  inhaling  is  peculiar  to  man,  as 
may  be  proven  by  experiment.  Were  it  not  so,  the 
bloodless  animals,  inasmuch  as  they  have  no  respira- 
tion, would  have  to  possess  a  sense  beyond  those  already 
named.  But  this  is  impossible,  if  it  is  true  that  they 
perceive  smells,  for  the  perception  of  the  odorous,  whether 
pleasant  or  unpleasant,  is  the  sense  of  smell.  Further- 
more, as  these  animals  appear  to  be  destroyed  by  strong- 
fumes,  just  as  man  e.g.  is  destroyed  by  pitch,  sulphur, 
and  similar  fumes,  they  must  have  the   sense  of  smell, 

12  although  they  do  not  respire.  The  organ  of  smell  in 
man  appears  to  differ  from  that  in  the  other  animals,  just 
as  his  eyes  differ  from  those  of  the  hard-eyed  animals. 
For  the  eyes  in  man  have  a  protection  and,  as  it  wTere,  a 
sheath  in  the  eyelids,  and  without  moving  or  opening 
these  he  does  not  see.  Whereas  the  hard-eyed  animals 
have  no  such  protection,  but  see  at  once  whatever  comes 

13  into  the  field  of  vision.      So  also  the  organ  of  smell  in 
422  a  some  animals  is  uncovered,  as  the  eye  is ;  while  in  others 

that  respire,  it  has  a  covering,  which  opens  in  inspiration 

14  and  by  the  dilation  of  veins  and  pores.  For  this  reason 
the  animals  that  breathe  do  not  smell  in  water.  For  in 
order  to  smell  they  must  inhale,  and  in  water  this  is 
impossible.  Smell  is  a  property  of  the  dry,  as  flavour  is 
of  the  moist,  and  the  organ  of  smell  is  potentially 
analogous  to  its  object. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  sapid  is  a  tactual  property,  and  this  explains  the 
fact  that  it  is  not  perceived  through  the  medium  of  any 
foreign  body.1  For  neither  is  the  tactual  so  perceived. 
The  body  in  which  flavour,  i.e.  the  gustable,  is  found 
consists  in  something  moist  as  its  matter,  and  this  moist 
element  is  something  tangible.  Consequently,  if  we  were 
in  the  water  and  something  sweet  were  thrown  into  it, 
we  should  perceive  it.  The  sensation,  however,  would 
not  have  been  produced  in  us  through  a  medium,  but  by 
the  mingling  of  the  sweet  with  the  moist,  as  is  the  case  2 
with  a  beverage.  Colour,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  per- 
ceived by  means  of  its  being  mingled  with  anything,  nor 
by  means  of  emanations.  There  is  in  the  case  of  taste 
no  medium ;  in  other  respects,  however,  as  colour  is  to 
the  visible,  so  is  taste  to  the  sapid.  Nothing  can  stimu- 
late the  sensation  of  flavour  apart  from  the  moist,  but  an 

1  The  medium  of  touch  is  the  flesh.  The  medium  of  taste  is  also  the 
riesh,  more  particularly  the  tongue  and  throat  (if  Aristotle  concurs  in 
the  popular  opinion  represented  by  Philoxenus,  cf.  Eth.  nicom.  iii.  10. 
10.  1118a  33).  These  two  senses,  consequently,  apprehend  qualities 
only  through  immediate  contact,  while  sight,  hearing,  and  smell  operate 
at  a  distance  through  the  media  of  air  and  water. 

85 


S 


86  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

object  must  possess  moisture  either  actually  or  potentially, 

3  as  does  salt.  For  salt  is  easily  soluble,  and  melts  on  the 
tongue. 

As  sight  is  discriminative  of  the  visible  and  invisible 
(for  darkness  is  the  invisible,  and  on  this,  too,  sight 
exercises  judgment),  further  of  the  extremely  dazzling 
(for  this  is  also  invisible,  but  in  a  different  sense  from 
darkness),  so,  too,  hearing  is  discriminative  of  sound  and 
silence,  of  which  the  one  is  audible  and  the  other 
inaudible,  and  of  the  crashing  sound,  as  sight  is  dis- 
criminative of  dazzling  brightness  (for  as  a  tiny  sound  is 
inaudible,  in  a  certain  sense  a  great  and  crashing  sound 
is  also  inaudible).  The  term  invisible  is  used,  on  the 
one  hand,  in  an  absolute  sense,  and  means  the  same  as 
the  term  impossible  does  in  other  cases ;  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  used  in  the  sense  of  what  is  naturally  meant 
to  be  seen,  but  is  not  seen,  or  only  imperfectly  seen, 
just  as  one  applies  the  terms  footless  and  seedless  to 
animals  and  fruits  that  are  imperfect.     So  also  is  taste 

4  discriminative  of  the  gustable  and  non-gustable ;  the 
latter  is  that  which  has  an  insignificant  or  indistinct 
flavour,  or  a  flavour  that  is  subversive  of  taste.  The 
potable  and  non-potable  seem  to  be  the  final  principles 
of  taste ;  taste  implies  both  of  them.  The  one  is,  how- 
ever, indistinct  or  destructive  of  taste,  while  the  other  is 
natural   to   the  sense.     The  potable   is    common  to  the 

422  b  senses  of  touch  and  taste.  Since  the  sapid  is  moist,  it  is 
necessary  that  the  sense-organ  be  neither  actually  moist 
nor  incapable  of  becoming  moist.      For  taste  is  affected 

5  by  the  sapid  object  as  sapid.  Consequently  it  is 
necessary  for  the  organ  of  taste  to  be  capable  of  becoming 


BK.n.  ch.x.  THE    SENSE   OF   TASTE  87 

moist,  without  injury  and  without  becoming  intrinsically 

moist.1     A  proof  is  the  fact  that  the  tongue,  when  it  is 

very  moist  or  very  dry,  is  incapable  of  perceiving  the  sapid. 

For  in  this  case  there  arises  merely  a  tactual  impression 

of  the  simple  liquid,  just  as  when  one  first  tastes  a  strong 

flavour  and  then  essays  another,  or  as  everything  seems 

bitter  to  an  invalid  because   his  tongue  is  full  of  this  6 

bitter  moisture.     The  varieties  of  flavours,  as  in  the  case 

of  colours,  are  partly  simple  opposites  such  as  sweet  and 

bitter,  partly  the  affiliated  qualities  oily  and  salty,  and 

the  intermediate  qualities  of  pungent,  harsh,  astringent, 

and  acid.     For  these  seem  to  include  approximately  all 

the  distinctions  in  flavours.2       So  then  the  sapid  sense  is  "Vrg^A    p  i 

potentially  of  the   same   character   as    the    sapid   object 

whicTTactually  produces  the  sensation  of  taste. 

1  Aristotle  applies  here  to  taste  the  metaphysical  doctrine  of  poten- 
tiality and  actuality  which  he  employs  everywhere  in  the  explanation 
of  organic  life.  All  change  is  a  transition  from  a  potential  state  into  a 
state  in  which  a  thing  finds  its  end  realized  or  in  process  of  realization. 
So  the  sense  of  taste  is  only  potentially  taste  until  it  is  stimulated.  In 
this  process  of  actualization  or  realization  the  organ  assimilates  an 
objective  quality  and  converts  it  into  a  subjective  one,  to  use  modern 
terminology,  and  this  process  Aristotle  describes  as  the  "sense  becom- 
ing like  the  thing,"  or,  specifically,  the  "capacity  of  the  organ  of  taste 
to  become  moist,  without  being  converted  into  moisture,  or  becoming 
intrinsically  moist."  The  potentiality  of  the  organ  refers  only  to  the 
assimilation  of  a  property  or  sense-quality. 

2  Aristotle  distinguishes  two  fundamental  colours,  black  and  white 
(which  on  surfaces  correspond  to  darkness  and  light),  and  two  funda- 
mental tastes,  bitter  and  sweet.  Including  black  and  white,  there  are 
seven  primary  colours,  all  of  whose  elements,  however,  are  found  in 
black  and  white,  and  they  are  produced  from  these  two  by  processes  of 
mixture.  These  colours  are  white,  black  (including  grey,  De  sensu, 
442a  22),  yellow,  red,  violet,  green,  and  blue.  Analogously  the  seven 
primary  tastes  are  based  on  bitter  and  sweet.  The  flavours  are  :  sweet 
(including  the  fat  or  oily),  bitter,  salt,  harsh,  pungent,  astringent,  acid 
(cf.  De  sensu,  4.  442a  12). 


CHAPTEE    XL 

The  same  kind  of  reasoning  applies  to  the  tangible  and 
the  sense  of  touch.  If  touch  is  not  a  single  sense  but 
several,  then  tangible  objects  must  also  be  manifold. 
There  is  some  doubt  whether  touch  is  manifold  or 
unitary,  and  it  is  uncertain  what  the  sense-organ  is 
which  apprehends  the  tangible.  Is  it  the  flesh  in 
man,  and  in  other  animals  something  analogous  to  flesh, 
or    is   the    flesh    only    the    medium,  while    the  primary 

2  organ  is  something  different  and  internal  ?  Every 
sense  appears  to  apprehend  only  one  contrary,  e.g.  sight 
senses  black  and  white ;  hearing,  acute  and  grave ;  taste, 
bitter  and  sweet.  In  touch,  however,  are  found  many 
opposites :  hot  and  cold,  moist  and  dry,  hard  and  soft, 
and  other  similar  opposites.      There  appears,  however,  to 

3  be  a  solution  for  this  difficulty  in  the  fact  that  several 
opposites  apply  to  the  other  senses  also,  as  e.g.  in  sound 
there  are  not  only  the  properties  acute  and  grave,  but 
also  large  and  small,  and  smooth  and  hard,  and  similar 
qualities  are  applied  to  the  voice.      Similarly,  different  dis- 

4  tinctions  are  applied  to  colour.  But  what  forms  the  single 
substrate  for  touch,  as  sound  does  for  hearing,  is  not  clear. 


bk.  ii.  ch.  xi.  THE  SENSE   OF   TOUCH  89 

Another  question  is  whether  the  sense-organ  is  internal 
or  not,  or  whether  the  flesh  immediately  senses  touch- 
qualities.  The  fact  that  sensation  is  simultaneous  with  423  a 
contact  is  no  proof  here.  For  as  a  matter  of  fact,  if  one  5 
should  prepare  a  membrane,  as  it  were,  and  draw  it  over 
the  flesh,  one  would  still  have  the  sensation  of  touch  at 
the  moment  of  contact,  and  yet  it  is  plain  that  the  sense- 
organ  is  not  in  the  membrane.  Even  were  it  grown 
together  with  the  flesh,  the  sensation  would  only  the 
more  quickly  penetrate  it.  Consequently  this  part  of  the  6 
body  seems  to  be  related  to  us  as  the  air  would  be,  were 
it  grown  to  us  round  about.  For  we  should  then  have 
to  perceive  sound,  colour,  and  smell  in  each  instance 
by  means  of  a  single  sense-organ,  and  sight,  hearing, 
and  smelling  would  in  that  case  have  become  a  single 
sense. 

However,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  since  the  media  through 
which  sense-movements  are  transmitted  are  different,  the 
sense-organs  themselves  are  different.  In  the  case  of  7 
touch  this  is  not  clear ;  for  it  is  not  possible  that  a  living 
body  should  consist  of  air  or  water ;  it  must  be  a  solid 
body.  It  remains  that  it  is  a  body  composed  of  earth 
and  those  two  former  elements,  air  and  water,  in  such  way 
as  it  is  intended  flesh  and  what  is  analogous  thereto 
should  be.  Consequently,  the  body  ([i.e.  the  flesh])  must 
be  the  natural  medium  for  the  sense  of  touch,  by  which  the 
several  sensations  are  mediated.  That  they  are  several  8 
is  evident  from  the  character  of  touch  on  the  surface  of 
the  tongue.  For  the  tongue,  as  a  single  organ,  dis- 
cerns all  tactual  and  sapid  qualities.  Further,  if  the 
rest  of  our  flesh   were  to  discern  sapid  qualities,   touch 


90  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

and  taste  would  be  regarded  as  one  and  the  same  sense. 
But  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  are  regarded  as  two,  because 
they  are  not  convertible. 
9  Since  body  has  depth,  i.e.  the  third  dimension,  wherever 
there  is  an  intermediate  body  between  two  other  bodies 
the  question  might  be  raised  whether  it  is  possible  for 
these  two  bodies  to  be  in  contact  with  each  other.  Now, 
neither  the  moist  nor  the  fluid  is  incorporeal,  but  each 
must  necessarily  be  water  or  contain  water.  But  objects 
which  are  in  contact  with  each  other  in  the  water,  inas- 
much as  their  extremities  are  not  dry,  must  have  water 
between   them,  in  which   their  outer  circumferences  are 

io  submerged.  Now,  if  this  is  true,  it  is  impossible  for  two 
objects  in  water  to  be  in  contact  with  each  other.  The 
same  holds  good  of  the  air  (for  air  is  conditioned  in  the 
same  way  towards  the  objects  in  it  as  water  is  towards 
objects  in  water,  only  in  the  former  case  the  conditions  are 
more  elusive  for  us  ([who  live  in  an  atmospheric  medium]), 

n  just  as  aquatic  animals  fail  to  observe  that  the  fluid  is  in 
423/5  immediate  contact  with  the  fluid.  A  further  question  then 
arises,  whether  the  same  process  of  sensation  applies  to  all 
senses  alike,  or  whether  in  different  senses  the  process  is 
different,  just  as  touch  or  taste  was  seen  to  function  by 
means  of  immediate  contact,  while  the  other  senses  function 
from  a  distance.  This  last  distinction  is  not  real,  but 
both  the  hard  and  soft  we  perceive  through  media,  as  we 
do  also  the  sonorous,  the  visible,  and  the  odorous;  in  the 
one  case  we  have  objects  at  a  distance,  in  the  other,  close 

12  at  hand.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  medium  eludes  our 
observation.  For  we  do  sense  everything  through  a 
medium,   but    in  the  case   of  things  close  at  hand,  the 


bk.  ii.  ch.  xi.  THE    MEDIUM    OF    TOUCH  91 

existence  of    the   medium   escapes  us.     And  yet,  as  we 
said   above,  were   we   to   perceive  all   tangible  qualities 
through  the  medium  of  a  membrane  without  knowing  that 
a  medium  intervened,  we   should  then  be  in  the  same 
condition  as  we  now  are  in  the  media  of  air  and  water. 
For  we  appear  now  to  be  in  contact  with  things  them- 
selves, and  not  to  apprehend  them  through   a  medium.  13 
The  tangible,  however,  differs  from  the  visible  and  audible 
in  that  we  perceive  the  latter  by  the  medium  producing 
a  certain  effect  on  us,  while  qualities  of  touch  we  do  not 
perceive    by   means  of  the    medium  but  simultaneously 
with  it,  as  a  man  who  is  struck  through  his  shield.     For 
the  struck  shield  does  not  strike  him,  but  rather  shield 
and  man  are  simultaneously  struck.       In  a  word,  flesh  14 
and  the  tongue  seem  to  be  related  to  the  sense-organ  as 
air  and  water  are  severally  related  to  sight,  hearing,  and 
smell.     For  were  the  sense-organ  itself  brought  into  con- 
tact with  the  object,  sensation  would  not  result  either  in 
the  one  case  or  the   other,  just  as  little  as  vision  would 
result  were  one  to  lay  a  white  object  on  the  surface  of  the 
eye.     By   which   it  is  evident  that   the  organ  of  touch  15 
must  be  internal,1  for  in  this  way  it  would  be  parallel 
with  the  other  senses.     When  objects  are  placed  upon  ^    i-a    .  « 
the  sense-organ,  sensation  does  not  result ;  on  the  other  |  ^J> 
hand,  when  placed  upon  the  flesh,  sensation  does  result.   J^^a-'Ux  -t^j. 
Flesh  must,  therefore,  be  merely  the  medium  of  touch. 

The  distinctions  of  body  as  body  are  tactual.     By  dis-  16 
tinctions  I  mean  such  as  characterize  the  elements — viz. 
warm  and  cold,  dry  and  moist,  concerning  which  we  have 

1  The  organ  of  taste  and  touch  is  the  heart ;  the  media,  as  already 
explained,  are  the  tongue  and  flesh. 


92  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

spoken  in  an  earlier  treatise  On  the  elements}  The  sense- 
organ  which  perceives  these  distinctions  is  touch,  and  the 
part  in  which  the  sense  of  touch,  as  we  call  it,  is  primarily 
found  is  potentially  what  tangible   objects  are  actually. 

1 7  For  sensation  means  being  affected  in  a  certain  waj ;   so 
424  a  that  whatever  makes  another  thing  to  be  in  reality  like 

itself  does  so  by  virtue  of  that  thing's  having  this  nature 
in  potentiality.  Therefore  we  do  not  perceive  hot  and 
cold,  hard  and  soft,  in  objects  that  have  these  qualities  in 
like  degree  as  ourselves,  but  we  perceive  the  excesses,  as 
if  sense  were  a  sort  of  mean  between  opposed  sensible 
objects.     And    hence    it    discriminates   sensible    objects. 

18  The  mean  is  capable  of  judgment,  for  it  becomes  in  refer- 
ence to  each  of  the  extremes  another  extreme.  And  as 
that  which  is  to  perceive  white  or  black  must  not  itself 
be  actually  white  or  black,  but  both  of  these  potentially 
(and  the  same  holds  good  of  other  instances),  so  also  in 
the  case  of  touch,  it  must  not  be  either  hot  or  cold  in 
itself.     Furthermore,  as  sight  was  said  to  discriminate  in 

19  a  sense  both  the  visible  and  invisible,  and  the  other 
senses  in  like  manner  their  opposites,  so  also  touch 
discriminates  the  tangible  and  intangible.  And  by 
intangible  I  mean  those  things  where  tactual  discrimina- 
tions are  quite  indistinct,  as  e.g.  in  the  case  of  air,  and 
those  excesses  of  touch  that  are  destructive  of  the  sense. 
Each  of  the  senses  has  now  been  treated  in  outline. 

1  De  gen.  et  corr.  329b  18-3306  9.      On  the  lost  treatise  irepi  (ttoixciuv 
see  Heitz,  Die  Verlorenen  Schriften  d.  Aristoteles,  p.  76. 


CHAPTEB  XII. 

In  reference  to  sensation  in  general  we  must  understand  **■ 
that  a  sense  is  capable  of  receiving  into  itself  sensible    ^ 
forms     without     their     matter,    just    as     wax    receives 
into    itself   the    mark    of    a    ring    without    its    iron    or 
gold ; — it     receives    into    itself    a    gold    or    bronze    im- 
pression,  but  not  as  gold  or  bronze.       In   like  manner 
also  sense  is  impressed  by  every  object  that   possesses 
colour    or    flavour   or   sound,  not  in  so  far   as   each   of 
these  objects  bears  a  given  name,  but  in  so  far  as  it  has 
such  and  such  a  quality  and  expresses  an  idea.     The  2 
organ   of    sense    is    fundamentally  that   in    which    this 
power  of  being  impressed  exists.      It   has  therefore  an 
identity  with  the  object  that  makes  the  impression,  but 
in  its  mode  of  expression  it  is  different.      Otherwise  that  cl .  Mv  «--U--= 
which  perceives  would  be  a  sort  of  magnitude;  whereas""^^  v^-S^oL 
the  mode  of  expression  of  the  perceptive  faculty  and  of  -y^  4X000  v 
sensation  is  not  magnitude,  but  only  a  certain    relation  -iV«_  /s^^^w  <n 
and  potentiality  of  magnitude.     From   this  it    is   clear 
why  excesses  in  sensible  objects  destroy  the  sense-organs.  3 
For  if  the  stimulus  be  stronger  than  the  organ,  then  the 
relation  between  them  is  destroyed,  just  as  harmony  and 

tone    are    destroyed    when    the    strings    are    struck    too 

93 


94  aristotle's  psychology  dsamma 

4  violently.  Why  is  it,  then,  that  plants  have  no  sensation, 
having  as  they  do  a  certain  psychical  endowment,  and 
being  affected  by  tangible  qualities,  for  they  experience 

424  b  e.g.  cold  and  heat  ?  The  reason  is  that  they  have  no 
mean  in  their  nature,  nor  such  a  principle  as  is  capable  of 
receiving  into  itself  the  forms  of  sensible  objects ;  on  the 

5  contrary  they  are  affected  materially.  One  might  raise 
the  question  whether  a  thing  which  cannot  smell  can  be 
affected  by  odour,  or  that  which  cannot  see  can  be 
affected  by  colour,  and  so  on.      Supposing  that  the  object 

6  of  smell  is  odour,  odour  produces  the  sensation  of  smell, 
if  it  produces  anything  at  all ;  so  that  nothing  which  is 
incapable  of  smelling  can  be  affected  by  odour.  The 
same  reasoning  applies  to  the  other  senses.  Neither  can 
sentient  beings  be  affected  further  than  they  are  in  each 
case  sentient.  This  is  also  evident  from  the  following : 
neither  light  nor  darkness,  sound  nor  smell,  acts  upon 
bodies,  but  the  media  in  which  these  qualities  exist 
may  act  upon  bodies,  e.g.  it  is  the  air  which  is 
combined   with   thunder  that  rives  the   tree.      Tangible 

7  qualities,  however,  and  flavours  operate  directly.  If 
this  were  not  so,  how  could  inanimate  bodies  be 
affected  and  changed  ?  Do  the  other  qualities  then 
act  directly  also  ?  Or  is  it  rather  true  that  not  every 
body  is  capable  of  being  affected  by  smell  and  sound,  and 
those  which  are  so  affected  are  indefinite  and  unstable,  as 
e.g.  the  air  ?  For  air  emits  odour  as  if  it  were  affected  by 
something.  What  is  smelling,  then,  beyond  this  being 
affected  by  something  ?  Smelling  surely  means  also 
perceiving,  whereas  the  air  by  being  affected  is  only  niads 
the  ready  object  of  perception. 


BOOK  THE   THIRD. 

CHAPTEE   I. 

That  there   is  no  additional   sense  beyond  the   five  we 

have  enumerated  (I  mean  sight,  hearing,  smell,  taste,  and 

touch),  one  may  believe  from  the  following  considerations. 

Granted  that  we  really  have  perception  of  everything  for  2 

which  touch  is  the  appropriate  sense  (for  all  the  qualities 

of  the  tangible  as  such  are  apprehended  by  touch),  it  is 

necessary  that   if  any  sensation   is  lacking,  some  organ 

must  also  be  lacking  in  us.      Whatever  we  perceive  by 

contact  is  perceived  by  the  sense  of  touch,  with  which  we 

are  endowed.      On  the  other  hand,  whatever  we  perceive 

through  media  and  not  by  direct  contact,  is  perceived  by 

simple  elements,  such  as  air  and  water.     The  conditions 

here  are  such  that  if  several  sensible  objects  which  differ  3 

from   each   other  generically  are  perceived   by   a   single 

medium,  then   anyone  who   has  a  sense-organ  analogous 

to   this   medium    must    be    capable    of  perceiving   these 

several  sense-objects.      For  example,   if  the  sense-organ 

is  composed  of  air  and   the  air  is  the  medium  of  both 

sound  and  colour,  the   organ  would  perceive  both   these 

sense-qualities.     If,  on  the  other  hand,  several  elements 

are  mediators  of  the  same  sense-qualities,  as  e.g.  colour  is  425  a 

95 


96  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

mediated  both  by  air  and  water  (for  both  are  diaphanous), 
then  the  organ  which  contains  one  of  these  elements 
alone  will  perceive   that  which   is   mediated   by  both  of 

4  them.  The  sense-organs  are  composed  exclusively  of  these 
two  simple  elements,  air  and  water  (for  the  pupil  of  the 
eye  is  composed  of  water,  the  hearing  of  air,  smell  of 
one  or  the  other  of  these).  Fire,  however,  belongs  to  no 
organ  or  it  is  common  to  them  all  (for  nothing  is  sentient 
without  heat).  Earth  belongs  either  to  no  organ  or  it  is 
chiefly  and  in  a  special  manner  combined  with  touch. 
Nothing  would  remain,  therefore,  excepting  air  and  water, 

c  to  constitute  a  sense-organ.  Some  animals  have,  in 
actual  fact,  these  organs  as  described.  Animals  which  are 
perfect  and  not  defective  have  all  these  senses.  For 
even  the  mole,  as  one  may  observe,  has  eyes  underneath 
its  skin.  Consequently,  unless  there  are  bodies  other 
than  those  known  to  us,  or  qualities  other  than  those 
which  belong  to  earthly  bodies,  we  may  conclude  there 
is  no  sense  lacking  in  us.1 

6  Neither  is  it  possible  that  there  should  be  any  peculiar 
organ  for  the  perception  of  common  properties  such  as 
we   perceive   accidentally2   by   means  of  the   individual 

xThe  argument  here,  that  there  can  be  no  senses  beyond  the  five 
enumerated,  is  hopelessly  obscure.  The  statement  of  the  argument 
is  probably  fragmentary.  Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire  (Traite  de  I'Ame,  p. 
254,  note)  wrongly  restates  the  argument,  in  his  attempt  to  put  an 
intelligible  meaning  into  it,  and  Zeller's  rehabilitation  of  it  (Eng.  tr.  vol. 
I.  p.  62)  is  not  less  obscure  than  the  passage  itself.  The  argument 
apparently  aimed  to  show  that  we  are  equipped  with  sense-organs  to 
cognize  the  qualities  of  all  known  bodies,  and,  as  nature  does  not  un- 
necessarily duplicate  these  organs,  they  must  be  complete. 

2  Omit  ov,  which  Biehl  has  incorporated  into  his  text  from  Torstrik's 
conjecture,  against  the  better  reading  of  all  the  mss.  The  emendation 
entirely  destroys  the   sense  of  the  passage,   it  being   the   reiterated 


bk.  in.  chap.  i.     THE    '  COMMON    SENSIBLE*  '  97 

senses,  e.g.   common   properties   like   motion,   rest,  form, 
magnitude,    number,    unity.        For   all    these   properties 
we  perceive  by  means  of  motion,  e.g.  magnitude  is  per- 
ceived by  motion.      So  also  is  form,  for  form  is  a  sort  of 
magnitude,  and   rest   we   perceive   from   the   absence   of  7 
motion.     We  perceive  numbers  by  the  negation  of  con- 
tinuity and  by  the  special  senses,  for  each  sensation  is 
experienced  as  a  unit.      So,  then,  it  is  clearly  impossible 
that  any  particular  sense  should  apply  to  these  common 
properties,  such  as  motion.      For  this  would  be  like  one 
now  perceiving  the   sweet   by  means   of  sight.      This  is  s 
because  we  happen  to  have  senses  for  both  qualities  ([i.e. 
for  the  sweet  and  for  colour]),  whereby  when  the  given 
qualities  coincide  in  one  object,  we  recognize  the  object 
as  sweet.1       Otherwise   we   do   not   perceive   the  sweet, 
excepting   in   the   sense    of    accident,   as    e.g.    when    we 
recognize  the  son  of  Cleon  not  because  he  is  Cleon's  son, 
but  because  he   is  a  fair   object,  which   for  the   son  of 
Cleon  is  an  accident. 

We  have  indeed  a  'common  sense'  for  the  perception  of  9 
common  qualities.    I  do  not  mean  accidentally.    It  is  there- 
fore not  a  particular  sense,  for  in  that  case  we  should 

doctrine  of  Aristotle  that  '  common  properties '  are  cognized  by  the 
'-  sensus  communis,'  in  its  own  nature,  and  by  the  individual  senses  only 
per  accidens  {De  an.  425a  20,  25  ;  418a  9  ;  418a  24 ;  De  seii.su,  437a  8). 
Biehl  seems  to  have  been  influenced  by  the  ou  Kara  av/AfiefivKos  of 
425a  28  and  its  apparent  contradiction  of  the  present  passage.  There 
is,  however,  no  contradiction,  the  ov  /card,  k.t.X.  referring  to  the 
function  of  the  '  common  sense,'  while  the  Kara  crv/j.(3e(BriK6s  refers  to 
the  function  of  the  individual  sense. 

1  We  cognize  the  quality  sweet  by  means  of  sight  only  per  accidens. 
We  see  a  sweet  thing  e.g.  when  we  see  a  grape  with  a  given  colour  and 
contour,  knowing  by  experience  that  the  colour  and  contour  are 
associated  with  a  quality  sweet  to  the  taste. 

G 


98  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  anima 

perceive  in  no  other  way  than  as  just  now  described  in 
10  the  illustration  of  Cleon.      A  sense,  however,  perceives 
accidentally  the  qualities  that  are  peculiar  to  a  different 
sense,    not    in    their    own    nature    but    because    of    the 
unity   of    these    qualities,  as    when    two    sense-qualities 
425  b  apply  to  the  same  object,  e.g.  in  the  case  of  bile  that  it  is 
both  bitter  and  yellow.     Now,  it  is  not  the  function  of 
either  particular  sense  to   say  that  both   these  qualities 
inhere  in  one  thing  and  it  is  owing  to  this  fact  that  error 
arises,  when  in  the  case  of  a  yellow  substance  one  opines 
it  to  be  bile.      One  might  ask  why  we  are  endowed  with 
11  several  senses  and  not  with  one  only.      Is   it   not  that 
facts  of  sequence  and  coincidence,  such  as  motion,  magni- 
tude, and  number,  might  the  less  escape  us  ?      For  if  we 
possessed  sight  only,  and  this  were  limited  to  the  percep- 
tion of  whiteness,  then   all  other  distinctions  would  the 
more  easily   escape  our  knowledge,  and   because   colour 
and  magnitude  are  always  coincident,  they  would  appear 
to   be  identical.      In  point   of  fact,  however,  since   these 
common  qualities  are  found  in  different  sense-objects,  it  is 
evident  that  the  several  qualities  themselves  are  different. 


CHAPTEK   II. 

But  inasmuch  as  we  perceive  that  we  see  and  hear,  we 
must  have  this  consciousness  of  vision  either  by  the 
instrument  of  sight  or  by  some  other  faculty.1  The 
same  faculty  will  then  apply  both  to  sight  and  to  colour, 
the  object  of  sight.  In  this  case,  either  we  shall  have  two 
senses  for  the  same  thing,  or  a  sense  will  be  conscious  of 
itself.  Further,  if  there  is  another  sense  for  the  perception 
of  sight,  either  we  shall  have  an  infinite  regressus,  or 
a  given  sens^jnust_finally  be  cognizant  of  itself,  in 
which  case  one  would  better  admit  this  in  the  instance 
of  the  original  sense  itself,  i.e.  sight.  Here,  however,  is  2 
a  difficulty.  For,  if  sensation  by  means  of  sight  is  vision, 
and  colour  or  that  which  possesses  colour  is  what  we  see, 
then  the  seeing  faculty  itself  must  first  of  all  have  colour 
in  order  to  be  seen.  It  is  plain,  therefore,  that  sensation 
by  means  of  sight  is  not  employed  in  a  single  meaning. 
For  even  when  we  do  not  see,  it  is  by  means  of  sight 
that  we  judge  both  of  darkness  and  light,  although  not  in 
the  same  way.     Furthermore,  the  seeing  subject  is  in  a 

1  This  function  of  consciousness  is  performed  by  the  '  sensus  com- 
munis.'    Cf.  Introduction,  Chap.  iv. 

99 


100  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

3  certain  sense  saturated  with  colour,  since  each  sentient 
organ  receives  into  itself  the  sensible  object  without  its 
matter.  This  explains  the  fact  that  when  objects  of 
sense  have  been  removed,  the  sensations  and  images  still 
persist  in  the  sense-organ. 

4  The  actualization  of  the  object  of  sense  and  of  the 
sense  itself  is  one  and  the  same  process  ;  they  are  not, 
however,  identical  with  each  other  in  their  essential 
nature.1  I  mean,  for  instance,  actual  sound  and  actual 
hearing  are  not  the  same.  For  it  is  possible  for  one 
who  has  hearing  not  to  hear,  and  for  a  sonorous  body 

5  not  to  emit  sound  at  every  instant.  When,  however, 
that  which  has  the  potentiality  of  hearing  and  that 
which  has  the  potentiality  of  sounding,  actually  hear 
and  actually  emit  sound,  at  that  moment  the  realized 
hearing     and     the    realized     sound    are    simultaneously 

426  a  complete,    and    one    would    call    them    respectively    the 

6  sensation  of  hearing  and  the  act  of  sounding.  If, 
then,  movement,  activity,  and  passivity  are  implied  in 
the  produced  object,  it  must  be  that  actual  sound 
and  hearing  exist  in  a  potential  state.  For  creative  and 
motive  activity  is  given  in  antecedent  passivity.2  It 
is,  therefore,  not  necessary  for  the  moving  principle 
to  be  itself  in  actual  motion.  For  as  action  and 
passion  find  their  expression  in  the  object  acted  upon 
and  not  in  the  producing  agent,  so  too  the  actualization 
of  the  sensible  object  and  the  sense-organ  is_expresseil 

7  in _the  latter.  The  actualization  of  a  sonorous  body 
is     sound     or     sounding ;     the     actualization     of     the 

1  The  one  is  the  condition  of  the  other. 

2  That  is,  in  a  potential  condition  or  a  condition  to  be  acted  upon. 


bk.  in.  chap.  ii.  SENSE-PERCEPTION  101 

hearing   organ  is   audition   or   hearing.     For   hearing   is 
twofold   and  sound  is  twofold,  and  the  same  statement 
applies    to    other    senses    and    sense-objects.      In    some 
instances  the  two  have  a  distinct  name,  as  e.g.  hearing  8 
and   sounding ;     in   other   instances   one   of    the   two   is 
nameless.     For  the  actualization  of  sight  is  called  seeing, 
but  the  actualization  of  colour  has  no  name ;  the  actual- 
ization of  the  organ  of  taste  is  called  tasting,  while  the 
actualization    of    flavour    is    nameless.        Inasmuch    as  9 
the  actualization  of  the  sense-object  and  the  sense-organ 
is  one  and  the  same  process,  although   the  two   things 
differ    in    their    essential    nature,    it    is    necessary    that 
hearing  and  sound,  in  this  sense,  should  be  both  either 
destroyed  together  or  preserved  together ;  and  the  same 
applies   to   flavour   and   taste,   and   to   the   other   sense- 
correlates.      This   necessity  does  not,  however,  apply  to 
the  sense-correlates  in  their  potential  signification.     On 
the    contrary,    the    old    naturalists    were    wrong    here,   ;  \^  ju-uC~1  L^. 
supposing,  as  they  did,  that  neither  white  nor  black  has   : 
existence  apart  from  sight,  nor  flavour  apart  from  taste.1 
In  one  way  they  were  right  and  in  another  wrong.      For  i'o 
owing   to   the   fact   that  sense   and   sense-object  have  a 
twofold    signification,   namely    that    of    potentiality   and 
that  of  actuality,  their  dictum  was  applicable  to  the  one 
meaning,  but  not  to  the  other.     They  applied  it,  however,  1 1 
to  things  absolutely  which  are  not  predicated  absolutely. 

*By  the  old  naturalists  are  probably  meant  Empedocles,  Democritus, 
and  the  Protagoreans  (Philoponus  Comment,  ad  426a  22.  Ed.  Berl. 
Ac.  p.  475).  Democritus  distinguishes  between  the  primary  and 
secondary  qualities  of  things,  referring  the  latter  (e.g.  colour,  flavour, 
etc.)  to  the  perceiving  agent,  and  the  former  (e.g.  weight,  density,  etc.) 
to  the  object.     Cf.  Theophrastus,  De  sensu,  63. 


102  ARISTOTLE  8   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

If  harmony  is  voice  of  a  certain  kind,  and  if  voice 
and  hearing  are  in  a  sense  one  and  the  same,  and  in 
another   sense   not   one   and   the   same,  and   if,  further, 

12  harmony  is  a  relation  of  parts,  hearing  must  likewise 
be  a  relation  of  parts.  It  is  for  this  reason  ([i.e.  because 
sensation  is  a  kind  of  proportion])  that  every  excessive 
stimulus,  whether  acute  or  grave,  disturbs  hearing.  In 
like  manner  the  sense  of  taste  is  disturbed  by  excessive 

426  b  flavours,   the    sense    of    sight    by   extremely   glaring    or 
extremely    faint    colours,     smell    by    excessive    odours, 

13  whether  cloying  or  acrid.  Consequently,  qualities  are 
agreeable  when,  pure  and  unmixed,  they  are  reduced  to 
proportion,  as  e.g.  the  pungent,  sweet,  or  saline,  or  in 
the  domain  of  touch,  the  warm  and  cool.  It  is  then 
that  properties  are  pleasant.  In  general,  the  mixed, 
rather  than  the  acute1  or  grave  alone,  is  harmony.  And 
sensation  isproportion.  Excessive  stimuli  either  produce 
pain  or  pervert  the  organ. 

14  Every  sense  is  directed  to  its  own  peculiar  sense- 
object  ;  it  is  given  in  the  sense-organ  as  such,  and  it 
distinguishes  the  different  qualities  in  its  appointed 
sense-object,  as  e.g.  white  and  black  in  the  case  of  sight, 
sweet  and  bitter  in  the  case  of  taste.  And  the  same 
can  be  said  of  other  senses.  Now  inasmuch  as  we 
distinguish  white,  sweet,  and  every  sense-quality  by  its 
relation  to  a  particular  sense,  by  what  instrument  do  we 

15  perceive  that  these  qualities  differ  from  one  another?  We 
must  do  so  by  means  of  sensation,  for  they  are  sense- 
qualities.  Is  it  not  plain  that  the  flesh  is  not  the  final 
organ   of  sense  ?     For    the  judging  subject  would   then 

1  Acute  and  grave  are  here  used  generically  for  extremes. 


bk.  in.  chap.  ii.         THE    '  COMMON    SENSE '  103 

necessarily  distinguish  an  object  by  contact.  Neither  is 
it  possible  by  means  of  the  distinct  senses  to  judge  that 
sweet  is  different  from  white,  but  it  is  necessary  that 
both  these  qualities  be  cognized  by  some  one  faculty ; 
otherwise  it  would  be  like  my  perceiving  one  thing  and 
you  another,  and  so  proving  that  they  are  different.  A  16 
single  faculty  must,  therefore,  say  that  they  are  different. 
For  the  sweet  is  actually  different  from  the  white.  One 
and  the  same  faculty,  then,  must  affirm  this.  And  as 
this  faculty  affirms,  so  do  thought  and  perception  agree. 
It  is  clear  that  we  cannot  judge  of  distinct  qualities  by 
different  senses,  and  we  can  conclude  from  this  that  we 
cannot  judge  of  them  at  distinct  intervals  of  time.  For 
it  is  one  and  the  same  principle  in  us  which  says  that  17 
the  good  is  different  from  the  bad.  Further,  it  says  that 
they  are  different  and  distinct  at  the  moment  when  this 
affirmation  is  made.  And  when  is  not  used  here  in  an 
accidental  sense,  by  which  I  mean :  when  does  not  apply 
merely  to  the  time  of  the  affirmation,  e.g.  I  say  now  that 
it  is  different,  but  it  applies  also  to  the  thing  affirmed,  I 
say  that  it  is  different  now,  i.e.  the  time  applies  to  the 
assertion  and  thing  coincidently.  So  the  two  elements  18 
here  are  inseparable,  and  are  given  in  an  indivisible 
moment  of  time.  It  is  impossible  for  the  same  thing  or 
an  indivisible  entity  to  undergo  opposite  processes  simul- 
taneously and  in  an  indivisible  moment  of  time.  For  if 
sweetness  stimulates  sensation  or  thought  in  one  way, 
then  bitter  stimulates  it  in  an  opposite  way  and  white-  427  a 
ness  in  some  other  way.  Is,  then,  the  judging  principle1 
something  at  once  numerically  indivisible  and  inseparable,  19 

1  The  judging  principle  is  the  'common  sense.' 


104  aristotle's  psychology  dbanima 

yet  separable  in  the  mode  of  its  existence  ?  There  is  a 
sense,  then,  in  which  as  divisible  it  perceives  the  divisible, 
and  a  sense  in  which  as  indivisible  it  perceives  the  indi- 
visible. For  in  its  significant  being  it  is  divisible,  but 
spatially  and  numerically  it  is  indivisible.      Or   is   this 

20  not  possible  ?  Potentially,  indeed,  one  and  the  same 
indivisible  thing  may  contain  opposite  properties,  but  not 
m^actuality ;  in  its  realized  self  it  is  separate,  and  it  is 
impossible  for  a  thing  to  be  at  the  same  moment  both 
black  and  white.  So  that  it  is  not  possible  for  even  the 
forms  of  experience  to  undergo  these  opposites,  if  sensation 
and  thought  be  such  forms.1  Rather  the  case  here  is 
similar  to  what  some  call  a  point,  which  is  divisible  or 

21  indivisible,  as  one  regards  it  in  its  single  or  dual  nature.2 
In  so  far  as  it  is  indivisible,  the  judging  principle  is  one 
and  coincident  with  perception  ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  divisible, 
it  is  not  one,  for  it  employs  twice  and  simultaneously  the 
same  mark.  In  so  far  as  it  employs  a  terminal  mark  as 
two,  it  distinguishes  two  things,  and  these  are  separable 
for  it  as  a  separable  faculty.3  In  so  far  as  it  regards 
the  point  as  one,  it  judges  singly  and  coincidently  with 
perception. 

In  this  way,  then,  let  us  state  our  definition  of  the 
principle  by  virtue  of  which  we  say  that  animals  are 
sentient  beings. 

1  By  the  law  of  contradiction.     Cf.  Met.  10636  19  ;  Cat.  126  10. 

2  That  is,  as  a  single  thing,  or  as  the  beginning  of  one  line  and  the 
end  of  another. 

:{In  so  far  as  the  mind  looks  at  this  single  thing  from  two  stand- 
points, as  beginning  and  end,  it  acts  in  a  way  distinct  from  perception  ; 
in  so  far  as  it  looks  at  it  as  a  single  object,  apart  from  relations,  it  coin- 
cides with  the  act  of  perception. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Inasmuch  as  the  soul  is  defined  mainly  by  means  of  two 
attributes,  namely  by  locomotion  on   the  one  hand  and 
by  thought,  judgment,  and  sensation  on  the  other,  it  is 
supposed    that    thought    and    reflexion    are    a    kind    of 
sensation   (for  in  both  instances   the  soul   discriminates 
and   cognizes   some   reality),   and    even    the   old   writers 
tell  us  that  reflexion  and  sensation  are  identical,  as  e.g. 
Empedocles,  who  said :  "  Wisdom  groweth  in  man  in  the 
face  of  a  present  object  "  ;  and  in  another  verse  :  "  Hence 
is  given  unto  them  the  power  of  reflecting  ever  and  anon 
on  diverse  things  " ;  and   the  words  of  Homer  have  the  2 
same  meaning  :    "  Such   is  the  mind."      For  all  of  these 
ancient  writers  regard  thought  as  something  somatic,  like 
sensation,     and    believe    that     both    in    sensation     and 
thought  like  is  apprehended  by  like,  as  we  said  in  the 
beginning   of  this  treatise.1      They  should   at   the  same  3 
time  have  spoken  of  error,  for  to  animals  this  is  more  427/; 
natural  than  truth,  and  their  souls  pass  most  of  their 
existence  in  error.     According  to  this  theory,  as  some  4 
hold,   either   all   phenomena  must  be  true  or  else  error 

1  De.  an.  4046  10  ff. 
105 


106  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

consists  in  the  contact  of  the  unlike,  for  this  is  the 
opinion  that  is  opposed  to  the  cognition  of  like  by  like. 
Further,  in  this  case  error  and  knowledge  of  opposites 
seem  to  be  identical.  That  sensation  and  reflexion, 
therefore,  are  not  identical  is  evident.      For  all  animals 

5  share  in  the  one,  but  few  only  in  the  other.  Neither  is 
thought,1    in    which    right    and    wrong    are    determined, 

v/  j£  i.e.  right  in  the  sense  of  practical  judgment,  scientific 
knowledge,  and  true  opinion,  and  wrong  in  the  sense  of 
the  opposite  of  these, — thought  in  this  signification  is 
not  identical  with  sensation.  For  sensation  when 
applied  to  its  own  peculiar  objects  is  always  true,  and 
is  inherent  in  all  animals:  but  it  is  possible  for  discursive 
thought  to  be  false,  and  it  is  found  in  no  animal  which 
is  not  also  endowed  with  reason.  Imagination,  too,  is 
different  from  sensation  and  discursive  thought.  At  the 
same  time,  it  is  true  that  imagination  is  impossible  without 
sensation,  and  conceptual  thought,  in  turn,  is  impossible 

6  without  imagination.  That  thought  and  conception,  how- 
ever, are  not  one  and  the  same  is  evident.  For  imagina- 
tion is  under  our  control,  and  can  be  stimulated  when  we 
wish  (for  it  is  possible  to  call  up  before  our  eyes  an 
imaginary  object,  as  one  employs  images  in  the  art  of 
mnemonics).       Conception,    on    the    other    hand,   is   not 

7  under  our  control.  For  it  must  be  either  false  or  true. 
Furthermore,  when  we  conceive  that  something  is  terrible 

]  Noely  is  used  here  as  genus,  of  which  ^/aov^crts,  eVicT??/^,  and 
56£a  aXrjdrjs  are  species.  Thought  is  called  (ppovrjaLs  (prudence)  when 
directed  to  a  practical  end,  €7riaTr)fXT]  (scientific  knowledge)  when  it  is 
theoretical  and  the  conclusion  is  demonstrable,  56i-a  d\r]d7js  (right 
opinion)  when  the  conclusion  is  not  reached  by  scientific  procedure  or 
is  not  demonstrable  and  yet  is  true. 


bk.  in.  chap.  in.  IMAGINATION  107 

or  fearful,  we  have  at  once  a  corresponding  feeling,  and 
the  same  may  be  said  of  what  inspires  courage.  But  in 
the  case  of  imagination  we  are  in  the  same  condition  as 
if  we  were  to  place  a  terrible  or  a  courage-inspiring 
object  before  us  in  a  picture.  In  conception  itself  there 
are  distinct  forms,  such  as  knowledge,  opinion,  reflexion, 
and  their  opposites,  concerning  whose  different  meanings 
we  shall  speak  later. 

Since    thinking   differs   from   sense-perception,  and  in  8 
one  signification  appears  to  be  imagination  and  in  another 
signification   conception,  we   must   proceed    to   the  treat- 
ment of  the   latter,  after  we   have   defined  imagination.  9 
If  imagination  means  the  power  whereby  what  we  call  a  428  a 
phantasm  is  awakened  in   us,  and  if  our  use  of  language 
here  is  not  merely  metaphorical,  then  imagination  is  one 
of  those  faculties  or  mental  forces  in  us  by  virtue  of  which 
we  judge  and  are  capable  of  truth  and  error.     And  these 
faculties  include   sensation,  opinion,  scientific  knowledge, 
and   reasoning.       That    imagination    is    not    to   be    con- 
founded with  sense-perception  is  plain  from  the  following  10 
considerations.      Sensation  is  either  a  mere  power  or  a 
distinct   act,   like   sight   and   seeing,  but   imagination  is 
present  when   neither  of  these  conditions  is  realized,  viz. 
in  the  phantasms  of  dreams.      Again,  sensation  is  always 
present,  but  this  is  not  true  of  imagination.      If  in  reality 
it  were  identical  with  sensation,  then  all  animals  would 
have  imagination.     This  does  not  seem  to  be  the  fact,  as 
we  find  in  the  case  of  the  ant,  the   bee,  and   the   worm. 
Again,  sensations  are  always  true,  while  imaginations  are  n 
for  the  most  part  false.      In  the  next   place,  we  do  not 
say  when  we  are  accurately  observing  a  sense-object,  that 


108  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

we  imagine  it  to  be  a  man.     We  say  this  rather  when  we 

12  do  not  clearly  perceive  [and  when  the  perception  may 
be  true  or  false],  and  as  we  said  above,  we  see  imaginary 
pictures  even  when  our  eyes  are  closed.  But  neither  is 
imagination  one  of  those  faculties  whose  deliverances  are 
always  true,  as  e.g.  scientific  knowledge  and  reason. 
For  imagination  can  also  be  false.  It  remains  to  be 
considered  whether  it  is  opinion,  for  opinion  can  be  either 

13  true  or  false.  Opinion,  however,  is  followed  by  belief  (for 
no  man  can  have  an  opinion  and  not  believe  what  he 
opines),  and  none  of  the  lower  animals  possesses  belief, 
although  imagination  is  found  in  many  of  them.  [Again, 
every  opinion  is  followed  by  belief,  as  belief  is  followed 
by  persuasion,  and  persuasion  by  reason.  Now,  some  of 
the  lower  animals  have   imagination,  but   none   of  them 

14  have  reason.]  It  is  plain,  then,  that  imagination  is  not 
opinion  combined  with  sensation,  nor  mediated  by  sensa- 
tion, nor  a  complex  of  opinion  and  sensation,  and,  for 
the  same  reason,  it  is  clear  that  opinion  has  for  its 
object  nothing  else  than  what  sensation  has  for  its  object. 
I  mean  e.g.  that  imagination  is  the  complex  of  an  opinion 
of  whiteness  and  a  sensation  of  whiteness,  and  not  the 
complex  of  an    opinion  of  goodness  and  a  sensation  of 

428  £  whiteness.  To  imagine,  therefore,  is  to  opine  what, 
5  strictly  regarded,  is  a  sense-object.  Again,  there  are 
false  appearances  when  we  have  correct  conceptions,  as, 
e.g.  in  the  case  of  the  sun  which  appears  to  be  a  foot  in 
diameter,  whereas  we  believe  it  to  be  larger  than  the 
inhabited  earth.  The  consequence  is  that  we  must  either 
have  thrown  aside  our  true  opinion  which  we  held, 
without  the  thing  having  changed  and  without  any  for- 


bk.  in.  chap.  in.     IMAGINATION    AND    TRUTH  109 

getfulness  or  change  of  conviction  on  our  part ;  or  if  one 
still  holds  it,  it  is  necessary  that  the  same  opinion  be  both 
true  and  false.      But  an  opinion  has  become  false  in  a  16 
case    where    an    object,    without    our    knowing    it,    has 
changed.      Imagination,  then,  is  not  one  of  these  faculties  17 
nor  a  derivative  of  them. 

Since  one  thins;  when  moved  can  communicate  motion 
to  another,  and  since  imagination  is  held  to  be  a  form  of 
motion  which  does  not  come  into  existence  without 
sense-perception,  but  only  in  sentient  creatures  or  in 
reference  to  objects  to  which  sensation  applies,  and  since 
motion  is  produced  by  the  action  of  sense-perception,  and 
thisln^tTdnliiust  be  equal  to  the  strength  of  the  sensa- 
tion, one  can  affirm  that  the  motion  of  imagination 
would  never  be  possible  without  sensation  nor  could  it 
take  place  in  non-sentient  creatures.  Further,  the  one 
who  experiences  it  can  act  and  be  acted  upon  in  many 
ways,  and  one's  experiences  may  be  true  or  false.  This  18 
truth  or  falsehood  is  due  to  the  following  causes.  Sense- 
perception  is  true  when  it  concerns  its  own  peculiar 
objects;  at  any  rate,  there  is  involved  in  this  case,  the 
least  possible  amount  of  error.  In  the  second  place,  sense- 
perception  may  concern  the  accidental,  and  here  error 
begins  to  be  possible.  One  is  not  mistaken  in  saying  that 
a  thing  is  white,  but  if  one  says  the  white  object  is  this 
or  that  particular  thing,  error  arises.  In  the  third  place,  19 
error  applies  to  common  properties  and  concomitants  of 
the  accidental,  in  which  peculiar  properties  are  involved. 
I  mean  e.g.  motion  and  magnitude,  which  are  accidental 
properties  of  sensible  objects,  and  concerning  which  we 
are  especially  liable  to   error  in    sense-perception.     The 


no  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

motion  set  up  by  the  activity  of  sensation  will  differ  in 

20  terms  of  the  three  following  forms  of  sense-perception. 
The  first  movement  is  when  the  sense-perception  continues 
present,  and  this  is  true ;  the  other  two  may  be  false 
whether  the  object  is  present  or  withdrawn,  but  are 
especially  liable  to  error  when  the  sense-object  is 
removed. 

If   imagination    contains    nothing    but    the     elements 

429^  named  and  is  what  we  have  described  it  to  be,  it  would 

be  a  movement  stimulated  by  actualized  sense-perception. 

21  Since    sight    is    our    principal    sense,    imagination  *  has 

1  The  words  (pavraaia  and  (pdos  are  derived  from  cognate  roots  ((pav 
and  (paF)  and  (paiveadai  and  (pavraaia  are  etymologically  akin.  Aristotle's 
statement  that  the  one  is  derived  from  the  other  is  not  strictly  correct. 
It  has  been  shown  that  imagination  is  not  atadyais  (sensation),  nor  vovs 
(reason),  nor  kinarrifxr]  (scientific  knowledge),  nor  56£a  (opinion).  It 
originates,  however,  in  the  sensus  communis  and  is  a  movement  set  up 
there  by  a  past  sensation.  A  sensation  when  past  may  leave  an  after- 
effect in  the  sense-organ  which  again,  unless  some  greater  or  cross - 
stimulus  inhibits  it,  may  pass  to  the  heart  (the  organ  of  the  '  common 
sense  ')  and  there  be  revived  as  a  pictorial  image  or  phantasm,  the  real 
object  being  no  longer  present.  This  revival  of  a  sense-image  is 
imagination  or  phantasy  ((pavraaia),  and  the  image  thus  reproduced  is  a 
phantasm  ((pavraa/xa).  Sensation,  therefore,  is  a  prerequisite  of  im- 
agination, although  the  revival  of  the  residual  image  of  sense  is 
emancipated  from  the  action  of  the  sense-organ  itself.  Aristotle  dis- 
tinguishes imagination  from  sensation  :  ( 1 )  imagination  is  a  function  of 
the  internal  or  '  common  sense '  (De  mem.  450a  10),  sensation  is  a 
process  of  the  external  sense ;  (2)  imagination  may  be  active  in  sleep,  when 
the  senses  are  inactive,  or  when  the  eye  is  closed  one  may  have  visual 
imagination  (428a  16) ;  (3)  sensations,  as  such,  are  true,  while  imagina- 
tions are  in  large  part  false  ;  (4)  sensation  is  possessed  by  all  animals, 
imagination  by  certain  ones  only  (428a  10).  Again,  imagination  is 
distinct  from  reason  (vovs)  and  scientific  knowledge  (e-marrifxT)),  for  (1) 
both  the  latter  proceed  by  necessary  steps  and  are  consequently  true, 
while  imagination  is  sometimes  true  and  sometimes  false  (42Sa  18) ;  (2) 
the  steps  in  rational  or  scientific  knowledge  are  not  in  our  control,  they 
follow  from  inherent  necessity,  while  the  pictures  of  imagination  are 
arbitrary  (4276   18).       Further,   imagination  is   distinct   from   opinion 


bk.  in.  chap.  in.     IMAGINATION    AND    LIGHT  111 

derived  its  name  from  light,  because  sight  is  impossible 
without  light.  Because  images  persist  and  resemble 
sense-perceptions,  animals  regulate  their  actions  to  a  large 
degree  by  imagination,  some  of  them  because  they  are 
incapable  of  reason,  as  the  lower  brutes,  others  because 
reason  is  sometimes  veiled  by  passion,  disease,  or  sleep,  as 
is  the  case  amongst  men.  Concerning  imagination,  what  its 
nature  is  and  what  end  it  subserves,  let  the  foregoing  suffice. 

(S6£a)  :  (1)  opinion  is  accompanied  by  belief,  which  is  not  true  of 
imagination  ;  (2)  we  may  have  a  correct  opinion  about  a  thing,  but  our 
imagination  about  the  same  thing  may  be  quite  at  variance  with  the 
opinion  (4286  2).  Further,  it  is  not  a  combination  of  opinion  and 
sensation  as  held  by  Plato  (Soph.  264b,  (rtififu&s  aladrjcrews  nai  o6£t?s), 
because  opinion  and  imagination  may  contradict,  and  consequently,  in 
this  case,  must  exclude,  each  other. 

When  the  image  is  recognized  as  that  of  an  object  perceived  in  the 
past,  with  a  consciousness  of  time,  the  imagination  is  then  termed 
memory  (fxv7j/j.r))  and  the  image  is  fivrjfjLovevfxa.  If  the  reproduction  of 
the  image  is  conscious  and  deliberate,  the  act  is  recollection  (cbd/^crts). 
Inasmuch  as  the  latter  act  requires  reflection,  only  man  is  endowed 
with  it,  although  memory  is  shared  by  the  brutes  (De  mem.  453a  6  ff). 

There  is  another  form  of  imagination  which  one  may  call  the  general- 
izing imagination,  and  which  Aristotle  regards  as  the  source  of  the 
images  that  accompany  conceptual  thought.  He  says  there  is  no 
thought  without  an  image  (403a  8,  431a  16).  As  sensation  is  to  the 
imagination,  so  is  the  imagination  to  thought  (431a  14).  Residual 
images  are,  therefore,  the  intermediary  links  between  sensation  or 
sense-perception  and  thought.  Regarded  as  after-sensation,  imagina- 
tion is  called  (pavracria  aladrjTLKT) ;  regarded  as  the  prerequisite  of 
thought,  it  is  called  cpavraaia  XoyiariKrj  (4336  29).  Imagination  is  a 
weak  or  spent  sensation  (aiad-qo-is  aadev-qs,  Rhet.  1370a  28)  or  in  Hobbes' 
language  a  "decayed  sensation."  Cf.  Freudenthal,  Ueber  den  Begriff 
des  Wortes  (pavraala  p.  24. 

The  imagination  in  its  reproductive  function  is  the  source  of  memory, 
recollection,  and  the  association  of  ideas  ;  in  its  productive  or  con- 
structive function,  it  is  the  origin  of  fancies  and  distorted  pictures  in 
dreams,  fever,  and  melancholia.  Without  it  language  would  be  im- 
possible (4206  32),  and  it  gives  clearness  to  conceptual  thought  by 
clothing  this  in  the  schemata  of  sense  (427a  16  ;  4316  4  ;  432a  9). 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

Regarding  that  part  of  the  soul  by  virtue  of  which  one 
knows  and  reflects,  whether  it  be  a  distinct  part  or 
whether  it  be  distinct  only  notionally  and  not  really,  we 
have  now  to  consider  what  its  differential  mark  is,  and  by 
what  process  thinking  is  exercised.  If  thinking  is  like 
sense-perception,  it  would  be  either  a  kind  of  impression 
made    by   the    object    of   cognition    or    some    analogous 

2  process.  It  must,  then,  be  impassive  and  yet  receptive 
of  the  form,1  and  in  its  nature  potentially  like  to  the 
object  of  thought  without  being  this  object ;  and  as  the 
sense-organ  is  related  to  the  object  of  sense,  in  a  similar 

3  way  thought  must  be  related  to  the  object  of  thought. 
Reason  must,  therefore,  be  unmixed,  as  Anaxagoras  says, 
since  it  thinks  everything,  in  order  that  it  may  rule,  i.e. 
in  order  that  it  may  know.2    It  is  the  nature  of  thought 

1  Sensation  is  described  by  Aristotle  as  the  receptivity  of  the  form 
or  idea  of  a  sensible  thing  without  its  matter  {De  an.  ii.  12,  424a  18, 
beKTLKov  t&v  aicrdrjruv  el8&v  avev  ttjs  iiX?7s). 

2  This  interpretation  of  Anaxagoras  is  regarded  by  Burnet  {Early 
Greek  Philos.  p.  283  fr.  6  and  293,  note)  as  unhistorical.  He  thinks 
the  power  of  Nous  to  '  rule  '  means  only  the  power  to  move  and  direct 
(Kvfiepvav).  Aristotle  himself  gives  precisely  Burnet's  interpretation 
of  the  Anaxagorean   Nous   in    Phys.    2566   25   (/a^crews  apxw  ;    Plato, 

112 


4 


_  yvut^   La^«^ 


bk.  in.  ch.  iv.  THEORY   OF   REASON  113 

to  preclude  and  restrain  the  element  that  is  foreign  and 
adjacently  seen.  Its  nature  is,  therefore,  exclusively  4 
potentiality.  What  we  call  reasonjn  the  soul  (by  reason 
I  mean  the  instrument  by  which  the  soul  thinks  and  forms 
conceptions)  is,  prior  to  the  exercise  of  thought,  no  reality 
at  all.  It  is,  therefore,  wrong  to  suppose  that  reason  itself 
is  mixed  with  the  body.  For  in  that  case  it  would  have 
certain  qualitative  distinctions  such  as  warm  or  cold,  or 
it  would  be  a  sort  of  instrument,  like  a  sense-organ.  But 
in  point  of  fact  it  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  Certain  writers1  5 
have  happily  called  the  soul  the  place  of  ideas,  only  this 
description  does  not  apply  to  the  soul  as  a  whole,  but 
merely  to  the  power  of  thought,  and  it  applies  to  ideas 
only  in  the  sense  of  potentiality,  and  not  of  actuality." 

Cratylux,  413c),  and  according  to  De  an.  4056  22  and  4296  23,  he 
would  seem  to  have  been  unable  to  find  any  epistemological  use  for 
this  Nous.  The  interpretation  of  Aristotle  in  the  passage  before 
us  can,  however,  very  well  be  a  correct  deduction  from  the  principle 
of  Anaxagoras,  viz.  that  in  order  to  rule  and  arrange  all  things  best, 
the  reason  must  also  know  all  things,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that 
Anaxagoras  even  made  explicit  mention  of  this ;  it  is  certainly 
implied  in  the  fragments.  "  Nous  is  the  subtlest  of  all  things  and 
the  purest  [i.e.  the  least  mixed],  and  it  knows  all  and  has  all 
power "  (fr.  123,  Burnet  p.  2S3).  By  virtue  of  its  subtle  nature,  and 
its  being  unmixed  with  the  elements  (I  am  not  concerned  here  with  the 
moot  question  of  its  incorporeality),  the  Nous  is  able  to  penetrate 
everywhere,  and  so  has  the  most  'far-seeing  knowledge  as  well  as  most 
wide-reaching  power.  Nous  must  then  be  unmixed  and  pure  to  be 
almighty  and  all-knowing,  and  consequently  the  commentary  of  Aris- 
totle seems  a  legitimate  construction  to  put  upon  Anaxagoras  (cf. 
Zeller,  Phil.  d.  Gr.  Vol.  I.  4th  ed.  p.  887  ;  Trendelenburg,  De  an.  2nd 
ed.  p.  385).  In  fact,  it  was  precisely  the  element  of  knowing  that  was 
the  important  factor  in  the  Anaxagorean  Nous,  as  Orderer  of  the  All. 

1  Plato  and  the  Academy. 

2  Potentially,  reason  is  that  which  becomes  thought  (there  are  no 
innate  ideas) ;  but  the  actual  reason  is  identical  with  the  actual 
thought,  and  in  thinking  its  ideas  the  reason  thinks  itself  (4296  9). 

H 


\w 


iUUu4 


114  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

It  is  evident  from  the  sense-organ  and  from  the  nature 
of  sensation,  that  the  term  impassivity  is  employed  in  a 

6  different  meaning  in  sensation  and  in  thinking.  For 
sense-perception     cannot    take    place    when    the    sense- 

429  £  stimulus  is  excessive,  as  one  does  not  hear  sound  in  the 
midst  of  loud  noises,  neither  can  one  see  nor  smell  in  the 
midst  of  excessively  bright  colours  and  strong  odours.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  the  mind  thinks  a  very  profound 
thought,  it  thinks  not  in  a  lesser  but  in  a  deeper 
degree  minor  details.  For  the  power  of  sensation  is  not 
independent  of  the  body,  while  the  mind  is  separable. 

7  When  reason  becomes  its  several  objects  in  the  sense  in 
which  an  actually  learned  man  is  said  to  be  learned  (and 
this  takes  place  when  he  can  exercise  knowledge  through 
his  own  agency),  even  then  reason  is  in  a  certain  sense 
potential,  although  this  potentiality  differs  from  that 
which   preceded  learning  and   discovery.      In  the  latter 

8  case,  potentiality  signifies  the  capacity  of  thinking  itself. 

There  is  a  difference  between  concrete  magnitude 
and  the  ultimate  nature  of  magnitude,  between  water 
and  the  ultimate  nature  of  water  (the  same  distinction 
can  be  applied  to  other  instances,  though  not  to  all, 
for  in  some  cases  they  are  identical).  Concrete  flesh 
and  the  ultimate  nature  of  flesh  one  judges  either  by 
a  different  and  distinct  faculty  or  by  the  same  faculty 
under  differing  conditions.     Flesh   is  not  separate  from 

9  matter,  but  like  a  snub-nose,  it  is  a  particular  thing 
in  a  given  something.  By  means  of  a  sense-organ  one 
discriminates  heat  and  cold  and  those  qualities  of  which 
flesh  is  a  sort  of  register.  On  the  other  hand,  reason 
judges    of    the    essential    nature    of    flesh    either    by    a 


bk.  in.  ch.  iv.  ABSTRACT   THOUGHT  115 

different  and  distinct  faculty,  or  in  the  way  in  which 
a  bent  line  is  related  to  itself  when  straightened.1 
We  refer  the  straight  line  as  we  do  the  snub-nose  to 
abstract  entities,2  for  they  are  both  associated  with  the 
continuous.  But  the  essential  notion  of  a  thing,  if 
straightness  and  the  straight  line  are  different  (and  they 
are  two  things),  is  apprehended  by  a  different  power. 
The  mind,  then,  judges  in  the  two  cases  by  means  of 
a  different  power  or  by  means  of  a  power  differently  10 
conditioned.  In  a  word,  therefore,  as  there  are  things 
abstracted  from  matter,  so  there  are  things  that  concern 
the  reason.  If  the  mind  is  simple  and  impassive,  and 
has  nothing  in  common  with  anything  else,  as  Anax- 
agoras 3   says,    and   if    thinking    means    to    be   somehow  1 1 

JThe  bent  line  represents  the  concrete,  distorted  things  of  sense 
and  the  straight  line  the  pure  notion,  and  the  two  things  correspond, 
apparently,  to  the  distinction  made  above  between  to  aapd  dvai  and 
<rap%,  etc.  Cf.  Kirchmann  and  Wallace  ad  loc.  Teichmuller's  explana- 
tion (quoted  by  Wallace)  of  the  bent  line  as  representing  reason, 
although  ingenious,  is  not  helpful  here. 

2  These  conceptions  belong  to  mathematical  notions  and  figures,  and 
are  abstract  when  contrasted  with  a  material  thing,  but  concrete  when 
contrasted  with  the  essential  notion.  Mathematical  ideas  (including 
1  snub-nose '  as  a  figure)  occupy  a  middle  place  in  their  degree  of 
abstraction  between  the  pure  notion  and  a  sense-object.  The  mathe- 
matical and  the  sense-object  both  belong  to  the  continuous  or  the 
extended  in  space  {fxera  crvvexovs).  Cf.  Phys.  194a  10;  De  an.  4316  15. 
Mathematical  entities  are  separable  from  matter  only  in  logical  con- 
ception.    Metaph.  1026a  7  ff.  ;  1061a  28  ff. 

3Anaxagoras  gave  no  detailed  account  (as  far  as  the  fragments  go) 
of  the  way  in  which  we  get  our  ideas  of  things,  beyond  the  state- 
ment that  the  senses  are  too  weak  to  discover  the  ultimate  nature  of 
reality,  and  that  we  know  the  existence  of  the  6/icuo/^peicu  (as  his 
successors  called  the  original  homogeneous  seeds  or  particles  of  things) 
only  by  processes  of  reason.  This  latter  by  its  subtle  and  pure  nature 
is  capable  of  penetrating  everywhere  {vid.  note  2,  p.  112)  and  making 
the  finest  distinctions.     In  his  theory  of  sensation  Anaxagoras  says  we 


116  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

impressed,  one  might  ask,  How  will  thought  be  possible  ? 
For  it  is  only  in  so  far  as  there  is  something  common 
to  two  things  that  the  one  appears  to  act  and  the 
other  to  be  acted  upon.  A  further  question  might 
be  raised,  viz.  whether  the  mind  itself  is  the  object  of 
thought.  If  it  is,  mind  will  then  either  be  found  in 
other  things,  unless  it  is  the  object  of  thought  in  some 
way  different  from  other  objects,  and  unless  the  object 
of  thought  is  a  specific  and  single  thing ;  else  it  will 
have   a   mixed   composition  which   makes   it   like   other 

12  things,  the  object  of  thought.  According  to  our  former 
definition,  '  to  be  affected  in  reference  to  a  common 
element/  means  that  the  mind  is  potentially  the  object  of 
thought,  though  perhaps  not  actually  so  until  thought  takes 
place.     It  must  be  that  the  case  here  is  similar  to  that 

430  a  of  the  tablet  on  which  nothing  has  been  actually  written. 
This  is  what  takes  place  in  the  case  of  mind,  and  it  is 

13  the  object  of  thought  as  other  things  are.  Where  entities 
are  without  matter,  the  subject  and  object  of  thought  n  *ft_ 
are  identical.  Speculative  thought  and  the  thing  specu- 
latively known  are  one  and  the  same.  The  reason  why 
thought  is  noTcbntinuous  must  be  investigated.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  entities  are  material  they  are 
severally  the  object  of  thought  only  potentially ;  mind 
is  not  an  element  in  them  (for  reason  is  the  potentiality 

xT      J  of  such  objects  in  abstraction  from  their  matter),  whereas 
\^°  (\  it  is  in  the  reason  itself  that  the  object  of  thought  will 

I  be  found.      x  .  \>      .  /         J- 

do  not  apprehend  like  by  like  (Empedocles),  but  unlike  by  unlike,  e.g. 
heat  by  cold,  etc.     Cf.  Zeller  Phil.  d.  Or.  Vol.  I.  4th  ed.  p.  908. 


"): 


CHAPTER  V. 

In  the  whole  of  nature  there  is  on  the  one  hand  a 
material  factor1  for  every  kind  of  thing  (and  this  is 
what  all  things  are  in  their  potentiality),  and  another 
factor  which  is  causative  and  productive  of  things,  by 
virtue  of  its  making  all  objects,  as  art  stands  related  to 
the  matter  it  employs.  These  distinctions  must  also 
hold  good  when  applied  to  the  soul.  Reason  is  of  such^ 
character  that  on  the  one  hand  it  becomes  all  things,  1 
and  on  the  other  creates  all  things,  in  this  respect 
resembling  a  property  like  light.  For  light  in  a  certain 
sense  converts  potential  into  actual  colours,  and  reason,  in 
the  present  meaning,  is  separate,  impassive,  and  unmixed, 
being  in  its  essential  nature  an  energizing  force.  Now, 
action  is  always  higher  than  passion  and  causal  force 
higher  than  matter.  Actual  knowledge  is  identical  3 
with  its_  object.  Potential  knowledge,  on  the  other  hand, 
pre-exists  in  the  individual ;  regarded  absolutely  it  does 

1  '  Material  factor '  does  not  necessarily  mean  a  thing  constituted  of 
crass  matter,  but  refers  to  the  metaphysical  distinction  between  '  form ' 
and  'matter,'  which  in  other  terms  are  '  actuality'  and  'potentiality.'. 
In  this  meaning  sensations  as  containing  the  potentiality  of  ideas  are 
their  'matter.' 

117 


<\ 


^J*** 


>juj> 


118  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

v    l-^K*^     not   so  pre-exist.      For   mind   does   not  at  one  moment 
think  and  at  another  not.     In  its  separated  state  alone 


~*T 


reason  is  what  it  is,  immortal  and  eternal.  We  have  no 
memory  of  it,  because  this  part  of  reason  is  impassive. 
The  passive  reason,  on  the  other  hand,  is  perishable, 
and  without  (ifothere  can  be  no  thought.2 

2  Vid.  Introduction,  Chap)  viii.,  and  The  Classical  Review,  Vol.  VI. 
(1892),  pp.  298  ff. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

When  thought  is  applied  to  indivisible  terms,  error  does 
not  arise.  Where  error  and  truth  are  both  found  is  just 
in  the  combination  of  thoughts  into  a  sort  of  unity. 
Empedocles1  e.g.  says;  "Wherefore  the  heads  of  many 
creatures  sprang  into  life  without  necks,"  and  later  on 
by  the  attraction  of  Friendship  they  were  joined  to- 
gether. So,  too,  these  disjoined  ideas  are  combined  2 
together  by  the  reason,  as  e.g.  the  ideas  of  the  incom- 
mensurable and  the  diagonal.  If  the  ideas  refer  to  the 
past  or  to  the  future,  the  element  of  time  is  added  in  430  £ 
the  mind  and  combined  with  the  ideas.  Error  is  always 
due  to  the  combination.  For  even  in  the  case  where  one 
might  think  the  white  not  to  be  white,  one  has  made 
the  combination  of  the  '  not- white.' 2  It  is  further 
possible  to  apply  disjunction  to  everything.  It  is  not  3 
only  possible  for  the  statement  '  Cleon  is  fair '  to  be 
true  or  false,  but  this  may  be  applied  to  the  past  or  to 
the  future.     The  unifying  principle  is  in  every  case  the 

1  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  pp.  226,  229.     Ritter  and  Preller 
Hist.  Phil.  Gr.  p  140a. 

2  Omit  </ccu>  (\evKoi>y  which  Biehl  adopts  from  Cod.  t  and  Roper's 
conjecture  against  the  better  reading  of  all  the  other  Codd. 

119 


120  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

reason.1  Since  the  simple  or  indivisible  may  be  looked 
at  from  two  standpoints,  viz.  either  as  potentiality  or  as 
actuality,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  the  mind  from 
thinking  the  indivisible  when  it  thinks  of  extension 
(which  in  its  actual  state  is  indivisible),  and  when  it 
thinks  it  in  an  indivisible  moment  of  time.  For 
divisibility  and  indivisibility  apply  to  time  just  as  they 

4  do  to  length.  It  is,  therefore,  impossible  to  say  what 
the  mind  thinks  in  each  half  of  a  time-division. 
For  the  half  does  not  exist,  except  in  potentiality,  if 
the  division  has  not  been  made.  But  in  the  act  of 
thinking  each  half  separately,  the  mind  divides  the 
time  also,  and  then  the  time  corresponds  in  its  division 
to  the  two  lengths.2  If,  however,  the  mind  thinks 
the  object  as  a  whole  composed  of  two  halves,  it  does 
this  also   with    regard  to  time    in    its    relation    to    the 

5  two  halves. 

That  which  is  not  quantitatively  but  only  notionally 
indivisible,  the  mind  thinks  in  an  indivisible  time  and 
by  an  indivisible  power  of  the  soul.  It  does  this,  how- 
ever, accidentally  and  not  in  so  far  as  the  factors  of 
thought  and  time  are  divisible,  but  in  so  far  as  they 
are  indivisible.  And  there  is  also  in  these  cases  an 
objective  factor  which  is  indivisible,  although  perhaps  not 

6  a  separate  entity,  that  gives  a  unity  to  time  and  exten- 
sion. And  this  is  likewise  true  of  everything  that  is 
continuous,  whether  in  time  or  space.  The  point  and 
everything  obtained  by  division,  and  whatever  (like  a 
point)  is  no  longer  divisible,  are  explicable  in  terms  of 

1  The  principle  that  combines  or  unifies  terms  into  judgments. 

2  And  the  single  length  is  then  a  unit  and  no  longer  a  half. 


bk.  in.  ch.  vi.  THOUGHT   AND    TRUTH  121 

privation.1  Similar  reasoning  may  be  applied  to  other 
cases,  as  e.g.  the  way  in  which  we  know  evil  or  black. 
For  we  know  them  somehow  or  other  by  means  of  their 
contraries.  But  the  knowing  mind  must  be  these  things 
potentially,  and  they  must  be  reduced  to  unity  in  the 
mind  itself.  If,  however,  in  the  case  of  any  causal  7 
principle  there  is  no  opposite,  then  it  knows  itself,  and 
is  in  actuality  and  is  separate.  A  predication,  as  e.g. 
an  affirmation,  asserts  something  of  something  else,  and 
is  in  every  instance  either  true  or  false.  This  does  not 
apply  to  the  mind  always,  but  when  the  mind  asserts 
what  a  thing  is  in  its  essential  nature  and  not  what 
attaches  to  something  as  a  predicate,  then  it  is  true. 
And  just  as  sight  is  true  when  it  concerns  its  own  proper 
object,  and  on  the  other  hand  the  opinion  that  a 
visible  white  object  is  or  is  not  a  man  may  not  always 
be  true,  so  it  is  with  all  immaterial  entities. 

1  As  privation  of  extension. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

431  a  Actual  knowledge  is  identical  with  its  object.  Potential 
knowledge  is  earlier  in  time  in  the  individual,  but  taken 
absolutely  it  is  not  earlier  in  time.  For  all  becoming 
proceeds  from  actual  being.  The  sensible  object  appears 
to  convert  the  potentially  sensitive  organ  into  an  actually 
sensitive  organ.  For  the  sense-organ  itself  is  not  affected, 
and  undergoes  no  change.  That  is  the  reason  why  we 
2  have  here  to  do  with  a  form  of  motion  different  from 
motion  in  the  ordinary  sense.  Motion  was  denned  as  a 
realization  of  the  incomplete,  but  motion,  absolutely 
regarded,  is  a  different  kind  of  activity,  viz.  the  activity 
of  the  perfected  thing.  Mere  sense-perception,  then,  is 
like  a  simple  expression  or  a  simple  thought ;  when, 
however,  the  sensation  is  pleasant  *  or  painful,  and  thus 
corresponds  to  affirmation  or  negation,  the  thing  is 
pursued  or  avoided.  To  feel  pleasure  or  pain  signifies 
to  experience  an  activity  in  a  mean  function  of  the 
sense-organ  relative  to  good  or  bad  as  such.      Avoidance 

1  When  the  simple  term  or  thought  is  converted  into  a  judgment,  it 
takes  the  form  (intellectually)  of  affirmation  or  negation,  and  the  form 
(in  practice)  of  doing  or  avoiding.  In  the  one  case  we  have  truth  or 
error,  and  in  the  other  right  or  wrong. 

122 


bk.  in.  ch.  vii.  THOUGHT   AND   IMAGES  123 

and  pursuit  in  their  actual  natures  are  identical,  and  the  3 
appetitive  power  whereby  we  desire  or  pursue  a  thing  is 
not  different  from  the  power  whereby  we  avoid  a  thing. 
They  do  not  differ  from  each  other  or  from  the  sensitive 
faculty.  Only  the  expression  of  their  being  is  different. 
Images  are  employed  by  the  conceptual  reason  as  sense- 
presentatious  are  by  the  sentient  faculty.  When  the 
mind  makes  an  affirmation  or  negation  touching  the  good 
or  bad,  it  avoids  the  one  and  pursues  the  other.  The 
soul,  therefore,  never  thinks  without  the  use  of  images.  4 
As  the  air  produces  such  or  such  an  effect  on  the  pupil 
of  the  eye,  and  the  pupil  in  turn  produces  another  effect 
(the  same  illustration  may  be  applied  to  hearing),  and 
yet  the  ultimate  interpreter  or  medium  of  sensation  is  a 
single  power  whose  being  is  expressed  in  several  ways, 
([so  it  is  with  images1  in  reference  to  thought.])  As  to 
the  faculty  by  which  we  discriminate  sweet  and  warm, 
although  the  problem  has  been  mentioned  above,  it 
must  be  again  discussed  as  follows.  There  is  some 
unitary  principle,  and  this  unitary  principle  has  the  5 
character  of  an  ultimate  term.  Its  deliverances  are 
reduced  to  unity  by  means  of  comparison  and  numerical 
statement,  and  are  related  to  each  other  as  the  outward 
things  are  related  to  each  other.  The  question  as  to 
how  the  mind  judges  like  qualities,  does  not  differ  from 
the  question  as  to  how  it  judges  opposite  qualities  such 

1  As  the  air  is  a  condition  of  sensation,  so  are  images  conditions  of 
thought.  The  illustration  is  not  a  very  happy  one,  but  the  meaning 
appears  to  be  that  as  there  is  an  unitary  principle  of  sense  which 
elaborates  its  varied  materials  into  a  whole,  so  there  is  an  unitary 
principle  of  thought  which  reduces  these  images  (ultimately  drawn 
from  sense)  to  the  form  of  connected  concepts. 


124  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

6  as  white  and  black.  Let  A,  the  objectively  white,  be 
related  to  B,  the  objectively  black,  as  the  idea  C  is 
related  to  the  idea  D,  or  it  may  be  stated  conversely. 
Now,  if  the  ideas  CD  attach  to  a  certain  thing,  they  will 
be  related  to  each  other  ([in  the  concept])  just  as  AB  are 
related  to  each  other, — they  will  form  one  and  the  same 
thing,  though  not  identical  in  mode  of  being;  and  the 
former  combination  (CD)  is  analogous  to  the  latter 
(AB)  \      The    same   reasoning   holds   in   case  one  were 

431  b  to    apply    A    to    a    sweet    object,    and    B    to    a    white 

7  object. 

The  reasoning  mind  thinks  its  ideas  in  the  form  of 
images;  and  as  the  mind  determines  the  objects  it  should 
pursue  or  avoid  in  terms  of  these  images,  even  in  the 
absence  of  sensation,  so  it  is  stimulated  to  action  when 
occupied  with  them.  For  example,  when  one  sees  that  a 
beacon  is  lighted,  and  observes  by  means  of  the  '  common 
sense '    that  it  is  in  motion,2  one  comprehends  that  an 

8  enemy  is  near.  Sometimes  by  means  of  the  images  or 
ideas  in  the  soul  the  mind  reasons  as  a  seeing  person, 
and  takes  thought  for  the  future  in  terms  of  things  before 
one's  eyes.  When  the  mind  there  in  its  world  of  images 
says  that  a  thing  is  pleasant  or  painful,  here  in  the  world 
of  things  it  pursues  or  avoids, — in  a  word,  it  acts. 
Apart  from  action  the  true  and  false  belong  to  the  same 
category  as  the  good  and  bad.      They  differ,  however,  in 

1  The  illustration  appears  to  mean  that  just  as  qualities  are 
combined  in  a  given  thing  and  form  an  unitary  object,  so  subjectively 
they  form  a  single  and  unitary  concept.  They  are  identical  in  signifi- 
cance, though  different  in  their  mode  of  being. 

2  Motion  is  one  of  the  koivol  alad-qTa  and  as  such  is  not  discerned  by 
any  individual  sense  but  only  by  the  'common  sense.' 


bk.  in.  ch.  vii.      THOUGHT    AND   ITS   OBJECT  125 

the    absolute    character    of    the    one    and    the    relative 
character  of  the  other.1 

The  mind  thinks  abstractions,  as  e.g.  when  it  thinks  9 
the  snub-nosed,  which  in  one  sense  is  a  snub-nose,  and  in 
another  sense,  if  one  thinks  it  actually,  one  would  think 
it  as  a  curvature  without  the  flesh  in  which  the  curvature  10 
is  found.  So  too  with  mathematical  figures,  though  in 
actuality  not  separate  from  bodies,  the  mind  thinks  them 
as  separated,  when  it  thinks  them.  In  a  word  the  mind 
is  the  thing  when  actually  thinking  it.2  Whether  or 
not  it  is  possible  to  think  any  abstraction  when  the  mind 
itself  is  not  separate  from  magnitude,  must  be  investi- 
gated later. 

1  The  true  and  false  are  universally  valid,  regarded  merely  from  the 
standpoint  of  cognition,  but  when  regarded  in  the  light  of  wrong  and 
right  they  are  relative  to  the  individual.  Or  the  passage  may  have 
another  significance,  viz.  the  notions  of  good  and  bad  affect  our  wills  and 
stimulate  to  action  only  when  they  are  referred  to  particular  objects. 
Vid.  Kirchmann,  p.  183. 

2  In  the  act  of  thinking,  subject  and  object  are  identical ;  the  think- 
ing mind  is  the  idea  thought. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Looking  at  the  main  features  of  what  has  been  said  of 
the  soul,  let  us  reiterate  the  statement  that  it  is  in  a 
sense  all  reality.  For  everything,  whether  sensible  or 
intelligible,  is  psychical ;  intelligible  objects  are  in  a 
sense  knowledge,  and  sensible  realities  are  sensations. 
How  this  is  possible  remains  to  be  investigated.      Con- 

2  ceptual  knowledge  and  sense-perception  are  each  divided 
into  two  kinds,  corresponding  to  their  objects ;  potential 
knowledge  corresponding  to  potential  objects,  and  actual 
to  actual.  The  sensitive  and  conceptual  powers  of  the 
soul  are,  potentially  regarded,  the  objective  things,  viz. 
the  intelligible  and  the  sensible.     The  soul,  then,  must  be 

3  either  the  things  themselves  or  their  form.  It  cannot,  of 
course,  be  the  things  themselves.  For  a  stone  is  not  in 
the  soul,  but  the  form  or  idea  of  the  stone.     Consequently, 

432a  the  soul  is  to  be  thought  of  as  a  hand;  for  a  hand1  is  the 

(instrument  of  all  instruments,  and  the  reason  is  the  form 
of  all  forms  and  sensation  ii  the  form  of  all  sensible 

4  realities.     Since,  however,  there  is  no  object,  as  is  supposed, 

1  As  the  hand  is  the  master  instrument,  so  the  soul  is  the  master 
interpreter  and  reduces  all  things  to  a  significant  form. 

126 


bk.  in.  ch.  viii.  IDEAS   AND   IMAGES  127 

apart  from  sensible  magnitudes,1  it  follows  that  intelli- 
gible objects, — -Jme^jQ_abstraciions,  as  we  call  them,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  qualities  and  conditions  of  the  sensibles, 
on  the  other, — must  be  sought  in  the  sense-forms.  For  5 
this  reason,  also,  it  would  be  impossible  for  one  to  learn 
anything  or  understand  anything  without  sense-perception, 
and  when  one  contemplates  a  thing,  one  is  forced  to  con- 
template it  in  conjunction  with  an  internal  image.  The_s& 
images  are  like  sense-presentations,  with  the  exception  that 
they  are  without  matter.  Imagination  is  different  from  6 
affirmation  and  negation;  for  the  true  and  the  false  are  the 
combination  of  ideas  into  a  judgment.2  In  what  way  are 
the  primary  ideas  3  to  be  distinguished  from  imagination  ? 
Or  is  it  true  that  these4  ideas  are  not  themselves 
images,  yet  they  cannot  be  produced  independently  of 
images  ? 

1  The  world  of  magnitudes  and  objects  in  space  are  mediated  to  the 
imagination  by  means  of  sense-presentations  (aicrdrifxaTa),  and  to  thought 
by  means  of  sense-representations  or  images  {(pavrdo-fxaTa). 

2  Images  (<pavTd<rfxa,Ta)  of  the  productive  imagination,  although  they 
may  correspond  to  no  reality,  yet  are  not,  strictly  speaking,  either  true 
or  false.  Truth  and  falsehood  belong  only  to  judgments  or  to  an  image 
when  something  is  predicated  of  it. 

3  The  primary  ideas  (irp&To.  vo^ara)  refer  to  our  highest  abstractions. 
Although  these  notions  are  not  (pavrdo-fxaTa,  their  derivation  is  dependent 
on  such  images. 

4  Read  ravra  (Torstrik)  instead  of  rSWa. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Since  the  soul  of  living  beings  is  defined  in  terms  of  two 
powers,  viz.  the  power  of  judgment  (which  is  the  function 
of  thought)  and  the  power  of  sensation  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  power  of  locomotion  on  the  other,  let  the  above 
suffice  for  our  treatment  of  sensation  and  thought,  and 
let  us  now  consider  the  moving  principle  and  ask  what 
part  of  the  soul  it  may  be.  The  further  question  arises 
whether  it  is  an  individual  part  of  the  soul  and  separate, 
either  concretely  or  notionally,  or  whether  it  is  the 
entire  soul.  If  it  is  only  a  part,  we  must  ask  whether 
it  is  a  peculiar  part  and  distinct  from  those  usually 
described   and  already  mentioned  here,  or  whether  it  is 

2  one  of  these.  There  is  a  difficulty  at  the  start  con- 
cerning the  sense  in  which  we  are   to  employ  the  term 

3  '  parts '  of  the  soul,  and  concerning  their  number.  For 
in  a  certain  way  they  seem  to  be  innumerable,  and  not 
merely  confined  to  those  which  certain  writers  distin- 
guish, viz.  reason,  will,  and  desire,1  and  others  classify 
as  rational  and  irrational  elements.  For  according  to 
the    differences  by  which  they    distinguish   these   parts, 

1  Plato,  Republic  441a  (XoyurriKov,  dv/xoeidis,  iiridvfxrjTLKdv). 
128 


bk.  in.  ch.  ix.  POWERS   OF   THE    SOUL  129 

there  seem  to  be  other  parts  that  are  even  more  distinct 
from  each  other  than  these,  concerning  which  we  have 
just  now  spoken,  viz.  the  nutritive  part,  which  is  found 
even  in  plants  as  well  as  in  all  animals,  and  the  sensitive 
part,  which  one  could  not  easily  classify  either  as  irrational 
or  as  rational.  Again,  the  power  of  imagination,  which  is  4 
different  in  its  mode  of  being  from  the  others,  appears  to  432^ 
be  a  distinct  part,  but  in  what  particular  it  is  identical  with 
or  different  from  the  others,  is  very  difficult  to  say,  if  one 
is  to  regard  the  parts  of  the  soul  as  existing  inde- 
pendently of  one  another.  In  addition  to  these,  there  is 
the  desiderative  part,  which  both  notionally  and  function- 
ally might  be  supposed  to  differ  from  all  the  other 
parts.  And  yet  it  would  be  absurd  to  sever  this  from  5 
the  others.  For  it  is  in  the  thinking  element  that 
volition  arises,  and  in  the  irrational  element  we  have 
desire  and  passion.  But  if  the  soul  has  three  distinct 
parts,  then  the  desiderative  element  must  be  in  all  of 
them.  Moreover,  the  question  again  comes  up  which  we  6 
raised  just  now,  viz.  what  is  the  principle  in  animals 
that  produces  locomotion  ?  One  might  suppose  that  it 
is  the  generative  and  nutritive  powers,  found  in  all 
living  things,  that  produce  the  motion  involved  in  growth 
and  decay  common  to  them  all.  The  subjects  of  inspira- 
tion and  expiration,  sleeping  and  waking,  must  be 
investigated  later,  for  all  of  them  present  great  difficulties. 
But  regarding  locomotion,  we  must  inquire  what  it  is  7 
that  gives  animals  the  power  of  progressive  movement. 
It  is  evidently  not  the  nutritive  power,  for  progressive 
movement  is  always  towards  some  end  and  accompanied 
either  by  some  image  or  desire.      For  where  there  is  no 


130  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

8  desire  or  revulsion,  there  is  no  motion,  excepting  where 
external  force  is  used.  Further,  if  motion  were  due  to 
the  nutritive  power,  plants  would  be  capable  of  loco- 
motion and  would  have  some  organic  member  adapted  to 
this  motion.  Soo,  too,  it  cannot  be  the  sensitive  power 
that  is  the  source  of  motion ;  for  there  are  many  animals 
which  have  sensation  and  yet,  throughout  their  existence, 

9  are  stationary  and  motionless.  If,  then,  nature  creates 
nothing  in  vain,  neither  does  she  omit  anything  that  is 
necessary,  save  in  cases  of  deformed  or  imperfect  beings. 
And  such  animals  as  we  have  in  mind  are  normal  and  not 
deformed.  A  test  of  perfection  is  the  capacity  to 
reproduce,  to  reach  the  prime  of  growth,  and  then  decline. 
Consequently,  such  animals  should  also  have  organs  of 
movement.1 

io  But  neither  is  the  thinking  power  nor  what  we  call 
reason  the  cause  of  animal  motion.  For  the  contempla- 
tive power  does  not  think  upon  what  is  to  be  carried 
into  execution,  neither  has  it  anything  to  say  touching 
what  is  to  be  avoided  or  pursued,  whereas  motion  always 
belongs  to  that  which  pursues  or  avoids  an  object.      On 

ii  the'  contrary,  when  one  contemplates  anything,  the  mind 
does  not  bid  one  pursue  or  avoid ;  e.g.  the  fearful  or 
pleasant  is  often  the  subject  of  thought,  but  the  feeling  of 
fear  is  not  suggested ;  the  heart,  however,  is  agitated,  or 
if  the  feeling  is  pleasure,  some  other  organ  is  stirred. 
433  a  More  than  this,  even  when  the  reason  commands  and 
intelligence  tells  us  to  avoid  or  to  pursue  a  thing,  motion 

JIf  locomotion  were  a  function  of  the  sensitive  soul,  these  animals 
that  are  endowed  with  sensation,  and  are  normal,  would  not  be 
stationary,  as  some  of  them  are  (cf.  note  1,  p.  171),  but  would  move. 


bk.  in.  ch.  ix.  REASON   AND    DESIRE  131 

does  not  follow,  but  one  acts  according  to  one's  desire, 
like  an  intemperate  man.  We  observe,  in  general,  that  12 
the  man  versed  in  medicine  does  not  heal,  because  it  is 
something  other  than  science  that  has  the  power  of 
acting  according  to  the  principles  of  science.1  Neither, 
again,  is  desire  the  dominating  principle2  in  this  motion; 
for  continent  men,  though  filled  with  desire  and  appetite, 
do  not  do  the  things  for  which  they  lust ;  on  the  con- 
trary, they  follow  reason. 

1  It  is  not  science,  but   nature,   the   principles   and   laws  of    whose 
operation  are  formulated  by  science,  that  heals. 

2  Neither  desire  nor  reason  taken  alone  is  the  principle  of  action  in 
men,  but  the  combination  of  these  two.     Cf.  433a-  23. 


CHAPTER  X. 

There  are  two  powers  in  the  soul  which  appear  to  be 
moving  forces — desire  and  reason,  if  one  classifies  imagina- 
tion as  a  kind  of  reason.  For  many  creatures  follow 
their  imaginations  contrary  to  rational  knowledge,  and  in 
animals  other  than  man  it  is  not  thought  nor  rational 
procedure  that  determines  action,  but  imagination.  Conse- 

2  quently,  both  of  these,  reason  and  desire,  can  produce 
locomotion — I  mean  here  the  reason  that  considers  ends 
and  is  concerned  with  conduct.1  It  differs  from  the 
theoretical  reason  in  having  a  moral  end.      Every  desire 

3  aims  at  something.  It  is  the  final  end  that  is  the  initial 
cause  in  conduct.2  So  that  it  is  reasonable  to  regard 
these  two  principles,  viz.  desire  and  practical  reason,  as 
motor  forces.  For  the  object  of  desire  stimulates  us,  and 
through  it  reason  stimulates  us,  because  the  object  of 
desire  is  the  main  thing  in  the  practical  reason.  Imagina- 
tion, too,  when  it  stimulates  us  to  action,  does  not  do  so 
independently  of  desire.     The  one  single  moving  force  is 

1  This  is  the  epitactic  reason  {(ppovrjats  iwiTaKTiKr))  of  the  Ethics 
(Eth.  nic.  vi.  10,  2).  The  theoretical  reason  deals  with  necessary  truth, 
while  the  practical  or  epitactic  reason  deals  with  the  contingent  or 
what  is  matter  of  choice. 

2  The  end  of  action  is  motive  or  starting-point. 

132 


BK.ni.  ch.x.        PSYCHOLOGY   AND   CONDUCT  133 

the  object  of  desire.  For  even  if  there  were  two  moving 
powers,  reason  and  desire,  still  they  would  produce 
movement  in  accordance  with  some  common  idea.  As  a  4 
matter  of  fact,  however,  reason  does  not  appear  to  produce 
movement  independently  of  desire.  For  volition  is  a  form 
of  desire,  and  when  one  is  prompted  to  action  in  accord- 
ance with  reason,  the  action  follows  also  in  accordance 
with  volition.  But  desire  prompts  actions  in  violation  of 
reason.  For  appetite  is  a  sort  of  desire.  Reason,  then, 
is  in  every  case  right,  but  desire  and  imagination  may 
be  right  or  wrong.  It  is,  therefore,  always  the  object  of  5 
desire  that  excites  action,  and  this  is  either  the  good  or 
the  apparent  good — yet  not  every  good,  but  only  the 
good  in  conduct,  and  this  practical  good  admits  of  varia- 
tion. 

Evidently  the  psychical  power  which  excites  to  action 
has  the  nature  of  desire,  as  we  call  it.  In  analysing  6 
the  elements  of  the  soul,  if  one  analyses  and  distinguishes  433  b 
them  in  terms  of  powers,  they  become  very  numerous,  as 
e.g.  the  nutritive,  sensitive,  rational,  deliberative,  and 
desiclerative.  For  these  differ  from  each  other  more 
than  do  the  desiderative  and  spirited  elements.  Although 
desires  arise  which  are  opposed  to  each  other,  as  is  the  7 
case  when  reason  and  appetite  are  opposed,  it  happens 
only  in  creatures  endowed  with  a  sense  of  time.  (For 
reason,  on  account  of  the  future,  bids  us  resist,  while 
desire  regards  the  present ;  the  momentarily  pleasant 
appears  to  it  as  the  absolutely  pleasant  and  the  absolutely 
good,  because  it  does  not  see  the  future).  The  moving 
principle,  which  is  the  desiderative  faculty  as  such,  is 
specifically  one,  though  numerically  several  motive  forces 


134  aristotle's  psychology  deanima 

may  be  included  in  it.  The  main  element  here  is  the 
object  of  desire  (for  this  by  being  the  object  of  thought  or 
imagination  excites  movement,  while  it  is  itself  unmoved). 

8  There  are,  then,  three  terms  to  consider  here,  first  the  motor 
power,  secondly  the  instrument  of  motion,  and  thirdly 
the  object  set  in  motion.  The  motor  power  is  twofold : 
on  the  one  hand,  it  is  an  unmoved  element,  and  on  the 
other,  a  moving  and  moved  element.  The  unmoved 
element  is  the  good  to  be  done  ;  the  moving  and  moved 
element  is  the  desiderative  faculty  (for  the  desiderative 
faculty  in  so  far  as  it  desires  is  moved,  and  desire  in 
process  of  realization  is  a  form  of  motion) ;  the  object 
which  is  set  in  motion  is  the  animal.  The  instrument 
by  which  desire  effects  motion,  is  of  course  the  body,  and 
consequently  it  must  be  investigated  where  we  have  to 

9  do  with  functions  which  are  common  to  the  body  and  the 
soul.1  One  may,  however,  say  summarily  here  that 
motion  is  organic  in  those  cases  where  beginning  and  end 
are  one,  as  e.g.  in  a  joint.  For  here  the  convex  and 
concave  are  beginning  and  end.  Therefore  the  one  is  at 
rest  and  the  other  in  motion,  and  while  they  are  notion- 
ally  distinct,  they  are  concretely  inseparable.  Everything 
is  set  in  motion  by  push  or  pull,  and  there  must  be  con- 
sequently, a  fixed  point,  as  the  centre  in  a  circle,  and 
this  is  the  initial  point  of  motion.2  In  a  word,  then,  as 
we  said  before,  an  animal  in  so  far  as  it  is  capable  of 

1  The  reference  is  probably  to  the  Parva  Naturalia.  Cf.  Zeller, 
Aristotle,  Eng.  tr.  vol.  i.  p.  89 ;  Freudenthal  in  Rhein.  Museum, 
N.F.,  Bd.  24  (1869),  p.  82;  Rose  De  Aristot.  librorum  ord.  et 
auct.  p.  163. 

2  As  in  the  illustration  of  the  socket-joint  and  the  circle,  there  is  a 
part    at    rest    from    which   motion   proceeds   and   a  part   in   motion. 


10 


bk.  in.  ch.  x.  FUNCTION   OF   DESIRE  135 

desire  is  capable  of  self-movement.  Desire,  however,  is 
not  found  apart  from  imagination,  and  all  imagination  is 
either  rational  or  sensitive  in  origin,  and  the  lower 
animals  share  in  it. 

Analogously,  the  reason  is  not  itself  in  movement  but  is  that  from 
whicii  movement  proceeds.  The  attractive  thing  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  commanding  reason  or  desiring  mind  on  the  other,  constitute  the 
push  and  pull  in  animal  life. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

We  must  inquire  also  into  the  nature  of  the  moving 
principle  in  those  imperfect  animals  which  possess  only 
434  a  the  sense  of  touch.  Is  it  possible  for  them  to  have 
imagination  or  desire  ?  They  appear  to  feel  pleasure  and 
pain,  and  if  these  are  felt  they  must  necessarily  have 
desire  also.  But  how  could  they  have  imagination  ?  Or 
are  we  to  say  that  just  as  their  movements  are  indefinite, 

2  so  too  this  power  is  possessed  by  them,  only  it  is  in- 
definitely developed.  Imagination  derived  from  sensation 
is,  as  we  said  before,  found  in  the  lower  animals,  but 
deliberative  imagination  is  found  only  in  those  animals 
which  are  endowed  with  reason.  For  whether  one  shall 
do  this  or  that  is,  of  course,  a  matter  of  deliberation,  and 
there  must  be  some  single  instrument  of  measurement  at 
hand  (for  it  is  the  greater  good  that  is  to  be  pursued),  and 

3  so  the  mind  is  able  to  make  a  single  representation  out 
of  several  images.  The  ground  for  supposing  that 
animals  do  not  have  opinion  is  that  they  do  not  have  the 
faculty  for  drawing  rational  conclusions,  and  opinion 
involves  this.  Consequently,  their  desire  lacks  the 
deliberative  quality.      Sometimes  the  desire    overpowers 

136 


bk.  in.  ch.  xi.  THE    MOVING    PRINCIPLE  137 

the  deliberative  element  in  man  and  excites  to  action. 
At  other  times  the  will  overpowers  the  desire,  and  again, 
like  a  ball  tossed  to  and  fro,  one  desire  overpowers 
another,  as  in  the  case  of  intemperance.  In  the  workings 
of  nature  the  higher  element  always  has  the  greater 
authority  and  is  the  moving  power.  There  are,  then, 
three  forms  of  movement.1  The  faculty  of  conceptual  4 
thought  is  not  moved,  but  remains  at  rest.  Since  we 
have  two  principles  in  conduct,  on  the  one  hand  the 
general  conception  2  and  notion,  and  on  the  other  hand 
the  particular  notion  (of  which  the  one  says  a  man  of 
such  and  such  a  kind  shall  act  in  such  a  way,  and 
the  other  that  this  particular  man — and  I  am  that 
particular  man — shall  act  in  a  given  way),  it  is  the  latter 
notion  that  incites  to  action,  but  the  general  one  does 
not.  Or  both  of  them  combined  may  lead  to  action, 
although  the  general  notion  is  quiescent,  and  the  par- 
ticular one  active. 

1  There  is  (1)  the  command  issuing  from  the  unmoved  reason,  which 
acts  on  desire  in  a  manner  analogous  to  motion  in  the  form  of  '  push ' ; 
(2)  when  an  object  stirs  the  desire  and  through  the  desire  the  reason  is 
awakened,  the  case  is  then  analogous  to  motion  in  the  form  of 
'  attraction  '  or  '  pull ' ;  (3)  the  completed  process  terminates  in  an 
act  of  bodily  or  physical  movement. 

2Cf.  Eth.  roc.  vii.  3,  6,  1147a  1-10. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Every  living  thing  must  have  a  nutritive  soul  in  order 
that  it  may  live  and  continue  to  live  from  birth  until 
death.  What  has  been  born  must  grow,  reach  its 
complete  development  and  decline,  and  this  is  impossible 
without  food.  A  nutritive  power  must,  therefore,  be 
given  to  everything  that  grows  and  dies ;    but  sensation 

2  is  not  necessary  to  all  living  things.1  Whatever  has  a 
simple  body  cannot  be  endowed  with  the  sense  of  touch 
(neither  is  animal  life  possible  without  touch),  and 
whatever  is  incapable  of  interpreting  the  forms  of  things 
without  their  matter  is  also  incapable  of  touch.  An 
animal  must  have  sensation,  if  it  is  true  that  nature 
creates  nothing  in  vain.  For  everything  in  the  natural 
world  exists  for  a  purpose,  or  is  the   condition  of  some- 

3  thing  that  exists  for  a  purpose.  If,  then,  a  body  which 
is  endowed  with  the  power  of  movement  were  deprived 
of  sensation,  it  would  perish  and   would  not  attain  the 

434  ^  end  for  which  nature  strives.  For  how  will  it  nourish 
itself?  Amongst  organisms  fixed  to  one  spot,  a  source 
of  food  is  provided  for  them  from  which  they  naturally 

1  Vegetable  life  exists  only  in  the  lowest  or  nutritive  form. 
138 


bk.  in.  ch.  xii.      NUTRITION   AND    SENSATION  139 

grow.  It  is,  however,  impossible  for  a  body  that  is  not 
stationary,  and  is  produced  by  generation,  to  have  life 
and  a  thinking  mind,  and  yet  not  have  sensation.  No 
more  is  this  possible  in  bodies  that  are  not  produced  by 
generation. l  For  to  what  end  will  they  lack  sensation  $  4 
It  must  be  because  such  lack  will  be  better  either  fori 
their  soul  or  body.  But  neither  is  true.  For  the  one' 
will  thereby  think  none  the  better,  nor  the  other  last 
any  the  longer.  Consequently,  no  moving  body  has  a 
soul  that  is  unendowed  with  sensation.  If,  however,  the 
body  is  endowed  with  sensation,  it  must  be  either  single 
or  mixed.  The  former  is  impossible ;  for  in  that  case 2  5 
it  could  not  have  touch,  and  touch  is  necessary.  That  is 
clear  from  the  following  grounds.  Since  every  living 
creature  is  an  animated  body,  and  every  body  is  tangible, 
and  tangible  is  that  which  is  sensed  by  means  of  touch, 
it  follows  necessarily  that  the  animal  body  must  be 
capable  of  the  sensation  of  touch,  if  the  animal  is  to  6 
persist  in  life.  The  other  senses,  such  as  smell,  sight, 
and  hearing,  perceive  through  other  media  than  the 
tangible  body.  If,  however,  an  animal  on  being  touched 
were  to  experience  no  sensation,  it  would  have  no  power 
to  avoid  certain  things  and  pursue  others.  And  if  this 
were  the  case,  the  animal  could  not  survive.  Therefore, 
taste  is  a  kind  of  touch,  for  it  is  concerned  with  food, 
and  food  is  a  tangible  body.  Sound,  colour,  and  smell,  on  7 
the  other  hand,  furnish  no  nutriment  and  do  not  con- 
tribute to  growth  and  decay.      Consequently,  taste  must 

1  Even  the  eternal  and  unbegotten  bodies  (stars)  have  the  power  of 
sensation.     Cf.  De  Coelo,  285a  29,  292b  2. 

2  Touch  implies  the  duality  of  perceiving  soul  and  tangible  body. 


140  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

be  a  sort  of  touch,  because  it  is  a  sense  that  concerns  a 
tangible  and  nutritive  object.  Both  of  these  senses 
([touch  and  taste])  are  necessary  to  every  animal,  and  it  is 
evident  that  no  animal  can   exist  without   touch.     The 

8  other  senses  exist  for  the  sake  of  higher  well-being 1  and 
are  not  found  indiscriminately  in  animal  species,  but  only 
in  certain  of  them,  viz.  in  such  as  are  capable  of  pro- 
gressive motion,  and  here  they  are  necessary,  For  if 
such  an  animal  is  to  survive  it  must  not  only  apprehend 
an  object  by  touching  it,  but  must  be  able  to  do  this 
at  a  distance.  This  result  would  be  attained  if  the 
animal  were  capable  of  sensation  through  a  medium, 
and  the  medium  were   impressed  and  set  in  motion  by 

9  the  sensible  object,  and  if  the  sense-organ  were  in  turn 
stimulated  by  the  medium.  Just  as  a  body  moving  in 
space  causes  a  transfer  of  energy  up  to  a  certain  point, 
and  the  propelling  body  causes  another  body  to  become 
propulsive,  and  through  the  mediate  term  motion  is 
continued ;  and  as  the  initial  agent  moves  and  exerts 
propulsion  without  being  itself  propelled,  while  the  last 
body  in  the  series  suffers  propulsion  without  exerting  it 
and  the  intermediate  bodies  (of  which  there  may  be  many), 

435  a  both  suffer  and  exert  it ;  so  it  is  also  with  the  process 
of  change  ([in  sensation]),  excepting  that  here  change  may 
take  place  while  the  object  continues  on  a  single  spot. 
For  example,  when  one  dips  an  object  in  wax,  movement 
of  the  wax  takes  place  up  to  the  point  that  immersion 
has  taken  place.      A  stone,  however,  would  not  be  moved 

1  Certain  creatures  are  endowed  merely  with  fitness  for  life,  while 
the  endowment  of  others  fits  them  for  aesthetic  and  moral  life  (ko\o0 
ZveKa  £r}v),  Eih.  nic.  1143a  15,  1170a  16,  1180a  10  ;  rod  e$  hexa,  De  an. 
4356  21 ;  De  sensu  437a  1. 


bk.  in.  ch.  xii.    SENSATION  AND   WELL-BEING  141 

in  this  way  at  all,  while  water  would  be  moved  more  10 
than  wax.  The  most  mobile  element,  both  in  its  power  *? 
to  receive  and  communicate  motion,  is  the  air,  provided 
it  is  confined  and  is  a  unit.  Concerning  the  phenomenon 
of  the  reflection  of  light,  then,  it  is  better  to  suppose  that 
the  air,  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  continuous  mass  (and  this  is  the 
case  upon  every  smooth  surface),  becomes  charged  with 
form  and  colour,  rather  than  that  the  visual  image  after  it 
has  once  issued  from  the  eye  is  reflected  back  to  the 
eye.1  Consequently,  the  air  reacting  on  the  eye  stimu- 
lates it,  as  if  the  impress  in  the  wax  were  to  penetrate 
through  to  its  opposite  extremity.2 

1  The  reference  is  to  Empedocles,  who  believed  there  was  a  dual 
efflux  or  emanation  from  the  eye  and  from  the  object  (cf.  Platos  Menon 
76c  ff.,  Aristot.  De  sensu  438a  1  ff.)  and  to  Plato  (Timaeus,  45c). 

2  That  is,  the  visual  image  is  supposed  to  penetrate  through  the 
mass  of  air,  as  it  were,  to  the  opposite  side  and  so  pass  into  the  seeing 
organ,  just  as  one  might  conceive  the  seal  with  its  impress  piercing 
entirely  through  the  mass  of  wax  into  something  capable  of  receiving  it 
on  the  remote  side. 


CHAPTEE    XIII. 

Evidently  an  animal  body  cannot  be  simple.  I  mean  that 
it  cannot  e.g.  consist  simply  of  the  element  of  fire  or 
air.  For  without  touch  one  cannot  have  any  other 
sensation.  Every  body  endowed  with  soul  has  the 
capacity  of  touch,  as  we  have  already  said.  All  the 
other  elements,  excepting  earth,  might  become  organs  of 
sensation,   but    all    of    them   produce   sensation    by   the 

2  instrument  of  intermediary  bodies.  Touch,  on  the  con- 
trary, appears  to  act  by  immediate  contact  with  bodies, 
and  hence  its  name,  and  although  the  other  sense-organs 
effect  sensation  by  means  of  contact,  yet  the  contact  is 
indirect  and  mediated  ;  whereas  touch  is  the  only  sense 
that  acts  by  direct  contact.  So  then  no  animal  body 
can  be  constituted  exclusively  out  of  such  elements  ([as 
are   fitted    for    mediate   perception]),   neither   can    it   be 

3  constituted  exclusively  out  of  earth.  For  touch  is,  as  it 
were,  the  mediator  of  all  tangible  things,  and  the  sense- 
organ  is  capable  of  receiving  not  only  all  the  various 
qualities  that  attach  to  earth,  but  also  the  hot  and  cold 
and  all  other  tactual  distinctions.  Therefore  we  have 
no  sensation   in  our   bones,  hair,  and   other  such  parts, 

142 


bk.  in.  ch.  xiii.  SENSE   OF   TOUCH  143 

because  they  are  constituted  out  of  the  element  of  earth. 
For  this  reason  also  plants  have  no  sensation,  because  435^ 
they  are  composed  of  earth.  Without  touch  there  can  4 
be  no  other  sensation,  but  the  organ  of  touch  is  not 
composed  exclusively  of  earth  nor  of  any  other  single 
element.  It  is  plain,  then,  that  this  is  the  only  sense, 
the  deprivation  of  which  necessitates  the  death  of 
animals.  For  neither  is  it  possible  for  anything  that 
is  not  an  animal  to  have  this  sense,  nor  is  it  necessary 
for  anything  that  is  an  animal  to  have  any  sense  beyond  5 
it.  Therefore,  other  sense-qualities,  such  as  colour,  sound, 
and  smell,  do  not  by  their  excess  destroy  an  animal ; 
they  only  destroy  the  sense-organ,  except  in  some  acci- 
dental case,  as  where  a  push  or  blow  accompanies  the 
sound,  and  when  other  objects  are  set  in  motion  by 
sights  and  smells  which,  by  their  contact,  work  destruc- 
tion.1 Flavour,  in  so  far  as  it  is  conjoined  with  a  6 
tactual  nature,2  works  destruction  by  virtue  of  this 
latter.  But  excess  in  tangible  qualities  such  as  heat, 
cold,  or  hardness,  destroys  the  animal.  For  the  excess 
of  every  sensible  quality  destroys  the  sense-organ,  so 
that  the  tangible  destroys  the  tactual  sense,  and  it  is 
in  terms  of  this  that  life  is  defined.  For  it  has  been 
demonstrated  that  without  the  sense  of  touch  a  living 
creature  is  an  impossibility.  Consequently,  excess  0A7 
tangible  impressions  not  only  destroys  the  sense-organ,  \ 
but  also  the  animal  itself,  because  this  sense  is  the  sole 
requisite  to  animal  life.      An  animal  possesses  the  other 

1  Simplicius  (ad  loc. )  thinks  that  lightning  is  meant  here. 

2  Aristotle  would   appear  to   refer   death   by  poison   to   its   tactual 
qualities. 


144  ARISTOTLE  8   PSYCHOLOGY  deanima 

senses,  as  we  have  said,1  not  for  the  sake  of  life  but  of 
a  higher  life.  It  has  sight,  e.g.  in  order  that  it  may 
see,  since  it  lives  in  a  medium  of  water,  or  air,  or,  in 
a  word,  in  a  diaphanous  medium,  and  it  has  taste,  because 
of  the  distinctions  of  pleasant  and  unpleasant,  and  in 
order  that  it  may  detect  these  qualities  in  its  food  and 
so  desire  it  and  be  moved  to  obtain  it.  It  possesses 
hearing  in  order  that  information  may  be  communicated 
to  it,  and  a  tongue  in  order  that  it  may  communicate 
-*4rC'  (  information  to  others. 


\  \ 


\      \ 


Cf .  De  an.  4346  24. 


(PARVA  NATURALIA.) 
ON   SENSATION  AND   THE   SENSIBLE.1 

CHAPTER  I. 

Now  that  we  have  treated,  of  the  soul  in  its  essential  436  ^ 
nature  and  of  the  faculties  that  belong  to  it,  part  by  part, 
our   next   duty   is   to   investigate   the   subject   of  living 
creatures  and  everything  that  has  life,  to  determine  what 

1  The  following  opuscules  of  mixed  physiological  and  psychological 
content  are  never  cited  by  Aristotle  under  a  general  title,  but  always 
referred  to  separately.  They  were  given  the  title  Parva  Naturalia  by 
the  scholastics,  but  even  the  learned  Leonicus  apparently  does  not  know 
by  whom  {Comment,  in  Parva  Natur.  fol.  1530,  p.  11),  and  Simon  is 
only  able  to  say  ' '  denominatio  a  Latinis  inventa  est "  ( Comm.  in  libr. 
de  sensu,  1566,  p.  1).  The  designation  is  used  by  Egidio  Colonna  (cf. 
Rhein.  Museum,  vol.  24,  1869,  p.  81),  who  was  a  pupil  of  Thomas 
Aquinas,  and  we  may  assume  that  the  title  came  into  existence  about 
the  time  of  Thomas,  when  great  interest  was  taken  in  the  interpretation 
of  the  Aristotelian  writings,  although  Freudenthal  was  unable  to  find  it 
either  in  Albertus  Magnus  or  in  Thomas.  The  tractates  discuss,  in  the 
main,  the  organic  functions  of  animal  bodies,  and  form  at  once  a  con- 
tinuation and  supplement  to  the  De  anima  and  an  introduction  to  the 
treatise  On  the  Parts  of  Animals.  They  form  thus  a  transition  from 
Psychology  to  Zoology.  In  content  they  are  mainly  biological  and  physio- 
logical, concerned  chiefly  with  the  physiology  of  the  senses.  They 
supplement  the  De  animain  the  following  particulars:  In  the  De  anima  the 
soul  is  regarded  as  the  principle  of  organic  life,  which  is  manifested  in 
the  forms  of  cognition  and  physical  vitality.  The  detailed  consideration  of 
the  relatiou  between  these  two  things  is  left  for  the  Parva  Naturalia  ; 
K  145 


146  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

functions  are  specific1  and  what  functions  are  general.  Let 
us  then  take  what  has  already  been  said  touching  the 
soul  for  our  basis,  and  as  we  proceed  to  the  remaining 
inquiries  let  what  is  first  by  nature  2  be  first  in  our  dis- 

2  cussion.  The  most  important  vital  phenomena,  whether 
one  regards  the  specific  or  general  attributes  of  animals, 
are  those  which  are  the  joint  concern  of  soul  and  body,3 
such  as  sensation,  memory,4  anger,  desire,  and  impulse  in 
general,  and,  one  may  add,  pleasure  and  pain.     These  are 

3  experienced  by  almost  all  animals.  In  addition  to  these, 
however,  there  are  other  attributes  which  are  common  to 
all  animals  that  share  in  life,  and  others  still  that  belong 
only  to  certain  animals.  The  most  important  of  the 
former  class  may  be  enumerated  in  four  pairs,  viz., 
sleeping  and  waking,  youth  and  old  age,  inspiration  and 
expiration,  life  5  and  death.      We  must  study  the  nature 

further,  the  nature  of  memory,  the  association  of  ideas,  and  the  subject  of 
dreams,  are  treated  almost  exclusively  in  the  opuscules.  Thebrief  accounts 
of  'common  sense,'  pleasure  and  pain,  and  motion  in  the  De  anima  are 
supplemented  here.  Further,  such  biological  considerations  as  the  con- 
ditions, disturbances,  and  duration  of  organic  life  were  scarcely  noticed 
in  the  De  anima,  but  receive  detailed  treatment  in  the  tractates  On 
Youth  and  Old  Age,  Life  and  Death,  and  On  Respiration. 

1  Reason  and  Recollection  e.g.  are  specific  functions,  while  nutrition 
and  growth  are  general  and  common  to  all  living  organisms. 

2  By  this  is  meant  the  elemental  functions  connected  with  the  life  of 
the  body  {koivo.  ttjs  ipvxv*  ^ai  T°v  o-u/ulcltos  i'pya),  on  which  depend  nutri- 
tion and  reproduction,  sleeping  and  wakiug,  etc. 

3  De  an.  4336  19,  20. 

4  Memory  {fxprjfxr])  but  not  recollection  (dvdimuyjaLs),  which  involves 
reflection,  and  is  peculiar  to  man. 

5  To  these  four  pairs  of  biological  phenomena  is  added  a  fifth  below — 
health  and  disease.  Youth  and  old  age,  life  and  death  are  treated  in 
one  opuscule,  sleeping  and  waking  in  another,  inspiration  and  expiration 
in  another,  while  the  subject  of  health  and  disease  was  either  not 
treated  at  all,  or  the  treatise  has  been  lost.  No  such  treatise  was 
known  to  Alexander  Aphrodisiensis  {Comment,  ad  436a  17). 


chap.  i.  PURPOSE   OF   SENSATION  147 

of  each  of  these  phenomena  and  the  causes  of  its  occur- 
rence. The  investigation,  too,  of  the  ultimate  principles 
of  health  and  disease  is  the  province  of  the  naturalist;  for  4 
neither  health  nor  disease  can  apply  to  creatures  when 
deprived  of  life.  And  so  it  happens,  as  I  think,  that 
most  natural  philosophers  and  those  physicians  who  have 
a  more  philosophical  understanding  of  their  science,  con- 
clude in  the  one  case  with  the  investigation  of  medicine, 
and  in  the  other  begin  their  practice  with  deductions  436  £ 
from  the  laws  of  nature  and  their  application  to  medi- 
cine.1 The  above-mentioned  phenomena  are  evidently  5 
the  common  property  of  soul  and  body.  For  they  are 
all  conjoined  with  sensation  or  are  mediated  by  it.  Some 
of  them  are  modifications  of  sensation  or  persistent  condi- 
tions of  it,  others  are  protective  or  preservative  of 
sensation,  while  others  still  are  destructive  and  negative. 
That  sensation  is  mediated  by  the  body  to  the  soul  is  plain 
both  with  and  without  the  use  of  rational  proof.  How- 
ever, regarding  the  essential  nature  of  sense-perception 
and  the  reason  why  animals  are  endowed  with  it,  we  have  6 
already  stated  our  views  in  the  treatise  On  the  Soul.2 
Every  animal,  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  living  creature,  must 
have  sensation.  For  it  is  in  terms  of  this  that  we 
distinguish  between  animal  and  non-animal.  Touch  and  7 
taste  must  belong  to  all  animals  individually,  touch 
for  reasons  given  in  the  treatise  On  the  Soul2  and 
taste  on  account  of  food.     For  it  is  by  taste  that  animals 

xCf.  4806  25,  where  the  tractate  on  Respiration  closes  with  an 
almost  verbatim  repetition  of  this  statement. 

2  In  the  De  an.  the  purpose  of  sensation  is  described  as  two-fold, 
(1)  the  survival  of  the  animal,  (2)  the  ends  of  higher  living  (cf.  420/- 
20  ff.,  4346  22  if.). 


148  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

discriminate  between  agreeable  and  disagreeable  in  foods, 
and  so  reject  the  one  and  take  the  other;  in  a  word 
flavour1   is   an    affection  that  belongs    to    the    nutritive 

8  soul.  Sensations  that  are  excited  by  external  objects, 
such  as  smell,  hearing,  and  vision,  are  found  in  animals 
capable  of  locomotion,  and  are  given  to  all  of  them 
for  the  sake  of  their  preservation,  in  order  that  they  may 
scent  their  food  and  pursue  it,  and  flee  from  what  is 
harmful  and  destructive.     In  the  case  of  animals  endowed 

437  a  with  intelligence,  they  are  given  for  the  sake  of  higher 
well-being.  For  these  sense-perceptions  convey  to  us 
various  distinctions,  out  of  which  the  knowledge  of  intel- 

9  lectual  and  moral  concepts  is  built  up.  Amongst  the 
senses,  vision  is  the  most  important,  both  in  itself  and  for 
the  necessities  of  life ;  on  the  other  hand,  for  the  uses  of 
reason,  and  accidentally,  hearing  is  the  most  important.2 

10  The  power  of  vision  informs  us  of  many  and  various  dis- 
tinctions, because  all  bodies  are  suffused  with  colour,  so 
that  by  means  of  this  sense  more  than  by  any  other  we 
perceive  the  common  properties  of  objects  (by  common 
properties  I  mean  form,  magnitude,  motion,  number). 
Hearing,  on  the  other  hand,  informs  us  merely  of  dis- 
tinctions in  sound,  and  in  some  instances  of  distinctions  in 

1  That  is,  flavour  as  a  property  of  food  affects  the  process  of  growth 
or  the  nutritive  soul.  Touch  is  the  lowest  or  most  fundamental 
sense,  and  taste  is  a  form  of  touch  mediated  by  the  tongue.  These  two 
serve  the  primary  or  lowest  ends  of  life.  Sight  and  hearing  serve  the 
higher  or  more  intellectual  needs. 

2  Although  sight  conveys  to  us  the  greatest  number  of  impressions 
touching  the  outside  world,  Aristotle  considers  hearing  the  most 
important  of  the  senses  intellectually,  because  it  mediates  oral  instruc- 
tion. This  is  called  per  accidens,  because  per  se  the  hearing  mediates 
only  sound,  and  it  is  accidental  to  the  function  of  hearing  that  this 
sound  should  be  significant  or  have  meaning. 


chap.  i.  IMPORTANCE    OF   HEARING  149 

articulate  voice.  Indirectly,  however,  hearing  contributes  n 
the  greatest  share  to  our  intellectual  life.  For  it  is  the 
spoken  and  heard  word  that  is  the  source  of  knowledge, 
and  hearing  is  the  source  not  in  itself  but  accidentally. 
Language  is  composed  of  words,  and  every  word  is  a 
symbol.  This  explains  the  fact  that  in  cases  where  men  12 
are  deprived  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  senses  from 
birth,  the  blind  are  more  intelligent  than  the  deaf  and 
dumb.1 

1This  is  no  doubt  correct,  owing  to  the  advantage  the  blind  have 
over  the  deaf  and  dumb  in  the  use  of  language.  This  advantage  has 
been  greatly  modified,  of  course,  by  the  development  of  linguistic 
instruction  for  the  deaf  and  dumb.  The  necessity  of  language  for 
thought  is  a  still  unsettled  question.  Cf.  James,  Principles  of 
Psychology,  Vol.  I.  p.  269,  who  considers  language,  in  its  ordinary 
meaning,  unnecessary  for  thought.  Sully  ( The  Human  Mind,  Vol.  I. 
p.  420),  on  the  other  hand,  says  :  "  It  seems  safe,  therefore,  to  conclude 
that  apart  from  verbal  or  other  general  signs  the  full  consciousness  of 
generality  does  not  arise."  Romanes  (Mental  Evolution  in  Man,  p.  149): 
"  These  unfortunate  children  [i.e.  the  deaf  and  dumb  who  are  never 
taught  finger-language]  grow  up  in  a  state  of  intellectual  isolation, 
which  is  almost  as  complete  as  that  of  any  of  the  lower  animals." 


CHAPTEE   II. 

We  have  already  treated  of  the  function  of  the  several 
special  senses.  Writers  now-a-days  attempt  to  correlate 
the  senses  with  the  physical  elements  1  as  found  in  the 
bodily  members  in  which  the  sense-organs  have  their 
natural  development.  With  the  fifth  sense  they  are 
hard  pressed,  not  finding  it  easy  to  pair  five  senses  with 

2  four  elements.  All  of  them  agree  in  regarding  vision  as 
connected  with  fire,  on  account  of  a  certain  phenomenon 
whose  nature  they  misunderstand :  viz.  when  the  eye  is 
pressed  and  moved  it  seems  to  scintillate.2  But  this 
takes  place  in  the  dark  or  when  the  eyelids  are  shut,  in 
which   case   darkness   is   produced.      And   there  is   also 

3  another  difficulty  here.  For  if  it  is  impossible  for  a 
perceiving  and  seeing  subject  to  be  unconscious  of  a  seen 
object,  then  the  eye  must  necessarily  see  itself.  Why, 
then,  does  this  not  take  place  when  the  eye  is  at  rest  ? 
The  explanation  of  this  phenomenon,  as  well  as  the 
solution  of  the  entire  difficulty  and  of  the  apparent  fact 
that  vision  is  fire,  is  to  be  found  in  the  following  con- 

1  Empedocles,  Alcmaeon,  Democritus,  Plato. 

2  Pressure  on  the  optic  nerve,    of  which   Aristotle   knew   nothing, 
stimulates  the  sensation  of  light. 

150 


DE  SENSU 


THE   ORGANS   OF   SENSE  151 


siderations.  It  is  the  nature  of  smooth  surfaces  to  shine  4 
in  the  darkness,  although  they  produce  no  light ;  now  we 
observe  that  the  dark  central  portion  of  the  eye  has  a  437 
smooth  surface.  This  becomes  apparent  when  the  eye  is 
moved,  because  the  single  organ  is  thereby  made  double, 
an  effect  which  is  produced  by  the  rapidity  of  the  motion. 
In  this  way  the  seeing  organ  and  the  seen  object  appear  5 
to  be  different.1  For  the  same  reason,  also,  this  effect 
fails  to  be  produced,  when  the  motion  is  not  rapid  and 
does  not  take  place  in  the  dark.2  For  it  is  in  a  medium 
of  darkness  that  a  smooth  surface  naturally  shines,  as  we 
see  in  the  case  of  the  heads  of  certain  fishes  3  and  in  the 
juice  of  the  cuttle-fish.  The  consequence  is  that  when  the 
eye  is  moved  slowly,  the  seeing  organ  and  seen  object  do 
not  appear  to  be  at  once  unitary  and  dual.  When,  on  6 
the  other  hand,  the  movement  is  rapid  the  eye  sees  itself, 
as  in  the  reflection  of  a  mirror.  Now,  if  vision  were  fire, 
as  Empedocles  declares  and  as  we  read  in  the  Timaeus4 
and  if  seeing  resulted  from  the  passage  of  light  out  of  the 
eye  as  from  a  lamp,  the  question  arises :  Why  is  it  that  7 
we  do  not  see  in  the  dark  also  ?  To  say,  as  the 
Timaeus5  does,  that  the  light  when  it  passes  out  from 
the  eye  is  extinguished  in  the  darkness,  is  a  totally  empty 
assertion.  For  what  is  meant  by  an  extinction  of  light  ? 
The  warm  and  the  dry,  it  is  true,  are  nullified  by  the 
moist  and  the  cold,  as  one  sees  in  the  case  of  a  coal  fire 

JThat  is,  the  seeing  eye,  which   according  to   Empedocles  is  fire, 
appears  to  be  seen  and  so  to  be  different  from  the  eye  itself. 
2  Because  the  smooth  surface  shines  only  in  the  dark. 
aCf.  Dean,  419a  5. 

4  Timaeus,  42  e,  43  a  ff.  ;  Meno  76  c. 

5  Timaeus.  45  b  :  cf .  also  Theaetetus  156  c. 


152  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

8  or  a  flame,  but  neither  of  these  has  anything  to  do  with 
light.  If,  however,  they  *  are  attributes  of  light  but  are 
concealed  from  us  owing  to  their  subtle  presence,  then 
light  ought  to  be  extinguished  in  the  day  during  rain,  and 
darkness  should  increase  in  frosty  weather.  Flame  and 
ignited  bodies  are  so  affected,  but  nothing  of  the  sort  takes 

9  place  in  the  case  of  light.  Empedocles  appears  to  hold 
the  view  that  vision  results  from  the  eye's  radiating  light, 
as  we  said  before.  His  own  words,  at  any  rate,  are  as 
follows  2 : 

"As  a  man  taking  thought  for  his  journey 
A  lantern  prepares,  whose  flame  flashes  light 
Through  the  blustering  night,  as  he  passes, 
And  shutters  he  fastens,  defence  from  winds, 
To  scatter  the  breath  of  the  blowing  blasts, 
While  the  light  pierces  through,  by  its  fineness, 
And  gleams  over  the  threshold  unfailing  ; 
So,  of  old,3  fire  elemental  was  fixed 
438a  In  membranes,  and  suffused4  the  round  pupil, 

Held  in  thin  tissues,  a  check  to  the  water, 
While  the  fire  pierces  through,  by  its  fineness." 

10  Sometimes  he  gives  the  above  explanation  of  vision, 
and  at  other  times  he  explains  it  by  means  of  emanations 
from  visible  objects.5 

1  The  warm  and  the  dry. 

2Cf.  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  p.  231. 

3  Instead  of  to  t'  read  tot. 

4  Instead  of  Xoxdi'ero  read  exeiyaro. 

5  Each  of  these  parts  represents  only  half  of  the  Empedoclean 
theory  of  perception.  Light  emanates  from  the  fire  in  the  eye,  as  from 
a  lantern,  and  effluences  come  from  sensible  objects.  These  effluences 
enter  into  the  pores  or  passages  of  the  eye,  and  in  proportion  as  these 
effluxes  are  fine  or  crass,  they  enter  into  the  larger  or  narrower 
passages.  The  fire  is  in  the  interior  of  the  eye,  and  between  this  and 
the  outer  covering  is  a  mass  of  water  held  by  a  fine  net.     The  fire  in 


chap.  ii.  THEORIES   OF   VISION  153 

Democritus  says  that  vision  is  due  to  water,  and  in 
this  he  is  right ;  but  he  is  wrong  in  thinking  that  it 
consists  in  reflection.  For  reflection  is  produced  because 
the  eye  is  a  smooth  surface ;  vision,  however,  does  not 
take  place  in  this  smooth  surface  but  in  the  seeing 
subject.  Now,  the  condition  to  which  he  refers  is  only  a 
reflection  of  light.  He  has,  however,  as  I  think,  no  clear 
idea  whatever  concerning  the  general  nature  of  images  " 
and  reflection.  It  is  also  strange  that  it  never  occurs  to 
him  to  raise  the  question  why  it  is  that  the  eye 
alone  sees,  while  no  other  object  in  which  images  are 
reflected,  has  vision.  His  statement  that  vision  partakes 
of  the  nature  of  water,  is  true  ;  but  vision  is  not  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  eye  is  water,  but  to  the  fact  that  it  is 
transparent,  which  characteristic  it  has  also  in  common 
with  the  air.  Water,  however,  is  easier  to  fix  and  is  12 
thicker  than  air,  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  the  eye  and 
its  pupil  are  composed  of  water.1  This  can  be  proved 
also  from  actual  facts.  When  the  eyes  are  destroyed 
water  is  seen  to  flow  out  of  them,  and  even  in  their  quite 
embryonic  stage  the  eyes  are  exceedingly  limpid  and 
brilliant.  Further,  the  white  of  the  eye2  in  sanguineous  *3 
animals  is  fat  and  oily,  which  serves  the  purpose  of 
keeping  the  humid  element  from  congealing.  Conse- 
quently, the  eye  can  resist  cold  better  than  any  other 
organ  of  the  body.      No  one  ever  experienced  the  sensa- 

the  interior  by  reason  of  its  fine,  subtle  nature,  penetrates  through  these, 
as  the  light  penetrates  through  the  sides  of  the  lantern  and  out  through 
the  atmosphere.  In  this  way  the  images  thrown  off  from  things  are 
illuminated.     Cf.  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  p.  265. 

1  The  aqueous  and  vitreous  humours. 

2  The  sclerotica. 


154  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

tion  of  cold  in  the  interior  of  the  eye.  The  eyes  of 
bloodless  animals  are  covered  with  a  hard  skin 
which    furnishes    protection.     The   theory   is    altogether 

14  irrational  which  makes  vision  consist,  as  some  hold,  in  a 
sort  of  radiation,  and  regards  this  radiation  of  something 
from  the  eye  as  extending  to  the  stars,  or  as  extending 
to  some  point  and  there  effecting  a  combination  with  the 
object.  It  would  be  better  to  assume  that  this  com- 
bination of  the  eye  with  its  object  were  in  the  eye's 
original  nature.  But  even  this  is  nonsense.  For  what 
is  one  to  understand  by  this  combination  of  light  with 
light  ?      Or  how   is   such  a  thing  to  take  place  ?     For 

438  b  nothing  combines  in  a  haphazard  way  with  anything  else. 

15  Further,  how  can  the  internal  light  combine  with  an 
external  one,  for  between  them  is  the  intervening 
membrane.  Regarding  the  fact  that  there  is  no  vision 
without  light,  we  have  spoken  elsewhere.1  But  whether 
the  intervening  medium  between  the  visible  object  and 
the  eye  is  light  or  air,  it  is  in  any  case  the  motion 
through  this  medium  that  produces  sight.  And  it  is 
reasonable  to  regard  the  interior  of  the  eye  as  composed 

16  of  water ;  for  water  is  diaphanous.  And  as  nothing 
external  is  seen  without  light,  the  same  thing  applies  to 
the  internal.  The  internal  also  must,  therefore,  be 
diaphanous.  Since  this  diaphanous  is  not  air,  it  must 
be  water.  For  the  soul  or  the  perceptive  power  of  the 
soul  is  not   found    on    the   eye's   surface,   but   evidently 

17  within.  Consequently,  the  eye's  interior  must  be 
diaphanous  and  sensitive  to  light.  And  this  we  can  see 
empirically.      For  cases    have    happened    in    war   where 

1  De  an.  4186  1,  419a  9,  430a  16. 


chap.  ii.  THE    ORGANS   OF   SENSE  155 

persons  have  received  such  a  blow  across  the  temples1 
that  the  ocular  conduits  were  severed  and  darkness 
seemed  to  ensue,  just  as  when  a  lamp  is  put  out,  and 
this  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  diaphanous,  i.e.  the 
pupil  as  we  call  it,  was  cut  off,  as  in  the  snuffing  of  a  18 
lamp.  If,  therefore,  this  takes  place  in  some  such  way  as 
we  describe,  it  is  evidently  necessary  to  render  an  expla- 
nation of  this  kind  and  to  correlate  each  sense-organ 
with  one  of  the  elements,  viz.  the  seeing  power  of  the 
eye  we  must  derive  from  water,  the  sense  for  sound  from 
the  air,  and  smell  we  must  associate  with  fire.  For  the 
organ  of  smell  is  potentially 2  what  smell  itself  is  19 
actually.  The  sensible  object  stimulates  the  sensation 
into  actuality,  and  consequently  the  latter  must  have  an 
antecedent  potential  existence.  Smell 3  is  a  smoke-like 
exhalation,4  and  this  is  derived  from  fire.  It  is  for  this  20 
reason,  too,  that  the  organ  of  smell  is  especially  assigned 
to  the  environment  of  the  brain,  for  the  material  sub- 

1  The  eye  must  be  translucent,  and  therefore  composed  either  of  air 
or  water,  in  order  to  transmit  vision  to  the  inner  soul,  vision  not  taking 
place  on  the  eye's  surface.  This  is  proven  by  the  fact  that  when  the 
optic  passages  are  severed,  as  Aristotle  supposes,  by  a  blow  on  the 
temple,  one  becomes  blinded. 

2Cf.  Dean.  417a  12 ff. 

3  De  an.  421a  7  ff. 

4  Smell  is  considered  by  Aristotle  one  of  the  most  difficult  senses  to 
analyze,  which  is  due  to  the  fact,  he  thinks,  that  it  is  very  imperfectly 
developed  in  man.  Taste  is  closely  allied  to  it,  but  much  better 
developed.  The  one  is  concerned  with  the  •  sapid  dry'  (443a  7)  and  the 
other  with  the  'sapid  moist.'  Flavour  is  found  in  the  moist  only, 
while  for  respiring  animals  odour  is  found  only  in  the  dry.  It  can, 
however,  exist  in  the  moist  as  shown  by  the  sense  of  smell  in  aquatic 
animals.  For  the  latter  reason  it  cannot  be  a  '  smoke-like  exhalation.' 
Aristotle  appears  here  to  be  speaking  only  in  terms  of  a  current 
explanation.     Cf.  443a  23  ff. 


156  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

strate  of  cold  is  potentially  warm.  And  the  same 
explanation  holds  good  for  the  development  of  the  eye. 
It  is  formed  from  a  part  of  the  brain,  for  the  brain  is  the 
21  moistest  and  coolest  member  of  the  body.  The  organ  of 
touch  is  derived  from  the  element  earth,  and  taste  is  a 
439  a  form  of  touch.  Consequently,  the  organs  of  these  two 
senses,  taste  and  touch,  are  found  to  conduct  towards  the 
heart.  The  heart  occupies  a  counterposition  to  the  brain 
and  is  the  warmest  member  of  the  body.  Eegarding  the 
sense-organs  of  the  body  let  the  above  determinations 
suffice. 


CHAPTER  III. 

In   the   treatise    On   the   Soul1  I   have   given   a  general 


to* '  ~"    "•    &' 


account  of  the  objects  of  sense  in  their  application  to  the 
several  sense-organs,  such  as  colour,  sound,  smell,  flavour 
and  the  tangible.  I  have  explained  their  function  and 
their  activity,  organ  by  organ.  But  we  must  also  deter- 
mine what  each  of  these  things  is  apart  from  the  organ, 
e.g.  we  must  ask :  What  is  colour  ?  What  is  sound  ? 
What  is  smell  ?  What  is  flavour  ?  We  must  likewise 
inquire  regarding  the  tactual,  and  we  must  begin  with 
colour.  Everything  has  a  twofold  significance,  viz.  that  2 
of  actuality  and  potentiality.  It  has  been  explained  in  the 
treatise  On  the  Soul 2  in  what  way  actual  colour  and  actual 
sound  coincide  with  and  differ  from  the  actual  sensations 
of  seeing  and  hearing.  We  must  now  explain  what  each 
of  these  sensible  objects  must  be  in  order  to  produce 
sensation  and  its  activity.  We  have  already  said  in  the 
above-named  treatise  regarding  light  that  it  is  the  colour  3 
of  a  diaphanous  medium,   accidentally   produced.3     Eor 

1  De  an.  418a  26— 424a  16.  2  De  an.  4256  29  ff. 

3  Neither  colour  nor  light  belongs  to  the  essential  nature  of  the  pel- 
lucid medium,  which  may  be  charged  at  one  time  with  one  colour  and 
at  another  time  with  another,  or  in  the  case  of  darkness  it  may  suffer 
privation  of  light. 

157 


158  aristotle's  psychology  desbnsu 

when  anything  fire-like  is  found  in   the  diaphanous,  its 
presence  constitutes  light  and  its  absence  signifies  dark- 

4  ness.  What  we  understand  by  diaphanous  is  not  a 
property  peculiar  to  air  or  water  or  to  any  other 
so-called  body,  but  it  is  a  certain  natural  constitution 
and  power,1  common  to  both  these  bodies  and  found 
also  in  certain  others,  in  greater  or  less  degree,  but 
which  has  no  independent  and  separate  existence.  And 
furthermore,   as    there    must    be    a   limiting    surface    in 

5  bodies,  so  here  also.  Light  is  found  in  an  indeterminate 
diaphanous.  It  is  also  evident  that  the  diaphanous  in 
bodies  must  have  a  surface,  and  that  this  surface  is  colour 
is  plain  from  observed  facts.  For  colour  is  found  either 
in  the  boundary  or  it  is  itself  the  boundary.  It  is  for 
this  reason  that  the  Pythagoreans 2  characterized  the 
visible  superficies   as  colour.      Colour,  indeed,  is  given  in 

6  the  boundary  properties  of  body,  although  it  does  not 
itself  constitute  that  boundary.  On  the  contrary,  one 
must    suppose    that   the   same    colour-quality3  which   is 

439^  observed   on   the   exterior   applies   also  to   the  interior.4 
Both  air  and  water  are  seen  to  be  coloured,  for  even  their 

7  shimmer   is  colour.       In    these    cases,    however,  air  and 

1  Aristotle  rejected  the  view  of  Empedocles  that  light  is  motion  and 
travels  from  heaven  to  earth  (4186  20,  446<x  26).  Light  is  not  motion, 
although  it  is  caused  by  movement  or  change  (dXXoiWis).  In  its  own 
nature  it  is  a  definite  qualitative  condition  of  the  air  or  water,  just  as 
the  frozen  represents  a  condition  of  water  (4466  28 — 447a  3). 

2Cf.  Plut.  Epit.  Mem.  I.  15;  Stobaei  Ecloy.  I.  15  quoted  by  Diels 
Box.  Gr.  p.  313. 

3  The  treatise  On  Colours  {-rrepl  xp^^tuv)  is  not  genuine.  Cf.  Prantl, 
Aristot.  fiber  die  Farben,  pp.  82-84. 

4  Aristotle  appears  to  have  in  mind  such  objects  as  jewels,  whose 
colour  he  considers  not  merely  superficial  but  as  penetrating  through  the 
substance. 


chap.  in.  THE    DIAPHANOUS  159 

the  sea,  because  of  their  unfixed  character,  do  not  have 
the  same  colour  when  viewed  near  at  hand  and  from  a 
distance.  In  solid  bodies,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
appearance  of  the  colour  is  fixed,  unless  the  surrounding 
medium  makes  it  shift.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  the 
principle  which  is  sensitive  to  colour  is,  in  both  the  former 
and  the  latter  instances,  the  same.  The  diaphanous,1 
then,  in  so  far  as  it  is  found  in  bodies  (and  it  is  found  8 
more  or  less  in  them  all),  causes  them  to  be  satu- 
rated with  colour.  Inasmuch  as  colour  is  found  in  the 
boundary  of  bodies,  it  would  also  be  found  in  the 
boundary  of  the  diaphanous  substance.  Consequently, 
colour  might  be  defined  as  the  boundary  of  the  diaphanous  9 
in  a  definite  body.  Colour  attaches  also  to  diaphanous 
bodies  themselves,  such  as  water  and  other  similar 
elements,  and  it  is  also  found  in  all  such  bodies  as  have 
a  surface-colour  which  is  peculiar  to  the  body 2  itself. 
There  is  then,  on  the  one  hand,  the  possibility  that  the 
positive  principle  which  in  the  air  produces  light  should 
also  be  contained  in  the  diaphanous  ;  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  possible  that  this  should  not  be  the  case,  but  that 
the  condition  then  should  be  one  of  privation. 

As  in  the  case  of  air  we  have  the  two  phenomena, 
light  and  darkness,  so  in  bodies  we  have  the  two  qualities,  10 

1  The  diaphanous  is  that  which  mediates  colour,  and  light  is  that 
which  converts  the  potentially  diaphanous  into  the  actually  diaphanous. 
In  other  words,  a  diaphanous  or  pellucid  medium,  such  as  air  or  water, 
is  not  actually  pellucid  without  light,  but  is  dark.  Colour  has  the 
power  to  set  the  diaphanous  in  motion  (419a  10),  by  which  means  the 
images  of  remote  surfaces  affect  the  visual  organ. 

2  Fire  or  some  positive  principle  such  as  is  found  in  the  aether  is  sup- 
posed to  illumine  the  diaphanous  ;  the  withdrawal  of  this  is  darkness 
or  the  privation  of  light. 


160  ARISTOTLE  S  PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

white  and  black.  Eegarding  the  other  colours  we  must 
now  decide,  after  analysis,  in  how  many  ways  they  can 
be  produced.  For  black  and  white  may  be  so  juxtaposed 
that  each  of  the  two,  on  account  of  its  minuteness,  when 
taken  alone  will  be  invisible,  while  the  combination  of 
the  two  will  be  visible.  The  latter  cannot  be  seen 
n  either  as  white  or  black.  But  inasmuch  as  it  must  have 
some  colour,  and  it  can  be  neither  of  these  two,  it  must 
be  a  mixed  colour,  and  different  in  kind  from  the  others. 
It  is,  then,  a  possible  supposition  that  there  are  several 
12  colours  besides  white  and  black,  but  their  manifoldness  is 
due  to  proportion.1  This  proportion  can  be  expressed  by 
the  relation  of  3  :  2  or  of  3  :  4,  or  colours  can  be  related 
to  each  other  in  terms  of  other  numbers,  and  some  may 
not  be  expressible  at  all  in  terms  of  any  proportion,  but 
in  terms  of  some  incommensurable  plus  and  minus.  The 
same  thing  applies  also  to  harmony  of  tones.  Those 
colours  which  are  expressed  by  harmonious  numbers,  as  is 
also  true  of  tone-harmonies,  appear  to  be  the  most  pleasing, 
440  a  such  as  sea-purple,  crimson,  and  a  few  others  like  them  ; 
they  are  few  for  the  same  reason  that  harmonious  tones 
are  few.2  The  other  colours  are  not  numerically  expres- 
sible.     Or,  is  it  true   that   all   colours   are   numerically 

1  White  and  black,  the  correlates  of  light  and  darkness,  are  the 
basal  colours,  as  sweet  and  bitter  are  the  basal  flavours.  Between  these 
two  extreme  opposites  there  are  intermediate  colours,  into  which  the 
primary  colours  are  convertible  by  composition  {Phys.  188a  32  ;  1886  21  ; 
2296  14 ;  Metaph.  1057a  23).  These  intermediate  colours  are  red, 
violet,  green,  blue,  and  yellow.  Gray  is  included  in  black,  aud  is  not 
regarded  as  an  independent  colour,  while  yellow  is  perhaps  included  in 
white  (442a  22).     Cf.  Goethe,  Farbenlehre  (ed.  1810),  Bd.  II.  pp.  11-53. 

2  In  the  first  place  because  they  do  not  form  a  continuum,  and  so  are 
not  infinitely  or  indefinitely  divisible,  and  secondly  because  they  are 
objects  of  feeling. 


chap.  in.  THEORY   OF   COLOURS  161 

expressible,  although  some  colours  depend  upon  a  regular 
order,  while  others  depend  upon  an  irregular  order,  and 
the  latter  have  this  character  when  they  are  not  pure  ? 
This  is  one1  explanation  of  the  genesis  of  colours  ;  another2 
explanation  is  that  they  shine  through  one  another,  as  we  13 
see  sometimes  in  the  works  of  artists,  when  they  superadd. 
a  colour  on  a  background  of  a  different  colour,  e.g.  when 
they  wish  to  produce  the  effect  of  an  object  seen  in  the 
water  or  in  the  air.  So  it  is  also  with  the  sun,  which  in 
its  own  nature  appears  white,  but  red  when  seen  through 
mist  and  smoke.  And  many  other  colours  will  be  pro-  14 
duced  in  the  same  way  as  above  described.  That  is  to 
say,  a  certain  proportion  might  be  supposed  to  exist 
between  the  colours  on  the  superficies  and  the  colours  in 
the  depths,  and  others  again  may  not  be  expressible  in 
terms  of  'proportion'  at  all.  It  is,  therefore,  absurd  to  15 
say  with  the  ancients  that  colours  are  effluxes,  and  for 
this  reason  are  visible.  For  in  their  opinion  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  sensation  be  effected  through 
contact,  and  it  is  consequently  better  to  say  at  once  that 
the  medium  of  sensation  is  set  in  motion  by  the  sensible 
object,  and  that  in  this  way  sensation  is  produced  by 
contact  and  not  by  effluxes.  In  the  case  of  juxtaposed  16 
colours,  just  as  one  must  suppose  an  invisible  magnitude, 
so  must  one  suppose  an  imperceptible  moment  of  time, 
in  order  to  explain  the  fact  that  the  movements  issue 
imperceptibly,  and  because  they  are  simultaneously  visible 
the  impression  is  a  single  one.  There  is,  however,  no 
such   necessity  here,  but  the   colour   on   the   superficies 

1  Viz.  the  number-theory  which  Aristotle  rejects. 

2  Also  this  theory  of  superposition  is  rejected. 


162  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

when  unmoved,  and  when  set  in  motion  by  its  substrate, 
produces  unlike  motions  in  the  medium.  Consequently, 
it  appears   different,  and   neither  white  nor  black.      So 

17  that  if  an  invisible  magnitude  is  not  possible,  but  every 
magnitude  must  be  visible  from  a  certain  distance,  so 
there  must  be  here  also  a  certain  mixture  of  colours.  In 
this  way  one  may  suppose  that  in  objects  viewed  from  a 
distance  a  certain  common  colour  is  seen.     For  that  there 

18  is  no  invisible  magnitude  is  a  matter  that  must  be  in- 
440  b  vestigated  later.     If  a  mixture1  of  bodies  takes  place,  then 

it  is  not  merely  in  the  way  that  some  think,  viz.  by  the 
juxtaposition  of  minimal  parts  which  are  imperceptible  to 
our  senses,  but  also  in  the  form  of  a  general  mixture  of 
the  entire  substance  together,  as  explained  in  outline  in 

19  our  treatise  On  Mixture?-  By  the  former  method  of  com- 
position only  those  substances  can  be  mixed  which  are 
capable  of  analysis  into  minimal  parts,  e.g.  men,  horses,  or 
seeds.  In  the  case  of  '  men,'  a  man  is  the  minimal 
part;3  in  the  case  of  'horses,5  a  horse.  Consequently,  in 
both  instances  the  mass  is  formed  by  juxtaposition  of 
these  minimal  parts.     We  do  not,  however,  speak  of  a 

20  man  being  mixed  with  a  horse.  Whatever  cannot  be 
analysed  into  minimal  ([homogeneous])  parts,  is  incapable 
of  mixture  in  this  sense,  but  only  in  the  sense  of  total 

1The  first  two  theories,  viz.  the  numerical  and  the  superpositional, 
are  here  rejected  in  favour  of  the  theory  of  substantial  mixture. 

2  This  treatise  (irepi  /xi^ecos)  has  been  lost.  For  Aristotle's  definition 
of  mixture,  and  his  distinction  between  it  and  synthesis,  see  De  gen.  et 
corr.  328a  5  fF.  The  former  implies  homogeneity,  while  the  latter 
may  be  merely  mechanical  juxtaposition.  The  former  produces  a  whole, 
the  latter  an  aggregate  (321a  34). 

3  Read  iXaxwrov  for  iXaxicrros.  Cf.  Berliner  Wochemchrift  filr  class. 
Philol.,  1898,  p.  998. 


chap.  in.  COLOUR   AND   MIXTURE  163 

mixture,  which  is  what  naturally  takes  place  in  most 
cases.  In  our  treatise  On  Mixture  we  have  already 
explained  how  this  can  take  place.  Where  bodies  are  21 
mixed  their  colours  must  evidently  be  mixed  also, 
and  this  is  the  principal  cause  of  the  multiplicity  of 
colours,  which  is  not  explained  by  their  being  super- 
posed or  by  their  juxtaposition.  It  is  not  true  that 
what  is  mixed  has  one  colour  when  viewed  near  by,  and 
another  when  viewed  at  a  distance,  for  it  has  one  colour 
when  viewed  from  all  points.  And  colours  will  be 
manifold  because  of  the  possibility  of  manifold  proportions  22 
being  employed  in  mixtures,  some  of  which  will  be  based 
on  numerical  proportion,  others  on  that  of  disproportionate 
mass.  Further,  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  mixed 
colours  as  was  said  of  juxtaposed  and  superposed  colours. 
The  explanation  of  the  fact  that  we  have  fixed  and 
definite  varieties  of  colours,  flavours,  and  sounds  will  be 
given  later.1 

1  Cf .  De  sensu,  4456  3  ff.  ;  446a  20. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 

We  have  now  explained  the  meaning  of  colour  and  the 
cause  of  its  multiplicity.  We  had  already  discussed 
the  subject  of  sound  and  articulate  speech  in  the  treatise 
On  the  Soul}  Smell  and  flavour  now  remain  to  be 
discussed.  Both  these  terms  signify  almost  identical 
natural    affections,    only   each    of    them    is    found    in    a 

2  different  organ.     The  quality  of  flavours  is  more  distinct 
to  us  than  that  of  smells.     The  reason  is  that  our  sense 

441  a  of  smell  is  inferior  to  the  same  sense  in  other  animals, 
and  is  inferior  to  all  our  other  senses,  while  we  of  all 
animals  have  the  most  accurate  sense  of  touch,  and  taste 

3  is  a  sort  of  touch.2 

Water  in  its  own  nature  has  no  flavour.  And  yet 
it  is  necessary  that  water  should  contain  within  itself 
the  varieties  of  flavours,  which  owing  to  their  infini- 
tesimal character  are  indiscernible,  as  Empedocles3  says, 
or  else  there  must  be  in  water  some  such  matter  as  is 

1  De  an.  420/>  32.  2  De  an.  423a  19. 

3  Other  than  this  we  have  no  knowledge  of  the  Empedoclean  theory 
of  taste,  with  the  exception  of  the  statement  in  fr.  139  that  flavours 
depend  upon  adaptability  to  the  sense-pores.  Cf.  Burnet,  Early  Greek 
Philos.  p.  265. 

164 


desensu  NATURE    OF    FLAVOURS  165 

the  universal  germ-origin  of  flavours,1  and  in  this  way 
all  flavours  are  generated  out  of  water,  different  flavours 
from    different    parts ;    or   again,   supposing    that   water 
contains  no   qualitative   differences,  we  must   then   find 
some   other  efficient   cause  of  flavour,  such  as   heat   or 
the  influence  of  the  sun.     The  error  of  the  Empedoclean  4 
theory  is  very  easy  to  detect.      For  we  actually  observe 
flavours  undergoing  change  under  the  influence  of  heat, 
e.g.   when    we    expose    fruits    to    the   sun   by   removing 
their  pericarps  or  by  heating  them  before  a  fire.     They 
do  not  acquire  this  new  flavour   by  drawing   it  out  of 
the  water,  but  by  undergoing  a  change  in  the  removal 
of  the  pericarp  itself.      When  fruits  are  dried  and  stored 
they  become  in  time,  instead  of  sweet,  pungent  or  bitter, 
or  change  their  flavour  variously,  and  when  cooked  they 
acquire,  so  to  speak,  all  sorts  of  flavours.      So  too,  the 
theory  that  water  is  a  panspermic  matter  is  impossible.  5 
For  we   observe  that   out   of  one  and   the   same   thing, 
as   out    of    the   same   food    stuff,   different    flavours   are 
generated.     There    remains    the    theory   that   water    by 
undergoing  some  external  influence,  changes.      It  is  plain  6 
that  the  phenomenon  which  we  call  flavour  is  not  due 
to  the  potency  of  heat.     For  water  is  the  thinnest  of 
all  liquids,  subtler  than  oil  itself.      Oil,  however,  is  more 
expansile    than   water    because  of  its  viscous  character, 


1 1  think  the  reference  here  is  more  likely  to  Anaxagoras  than  to 
Democritus,  as  Wallace  supposes  (Aristotle's  Psychology,  Introd.  p.  lxvi), 
although  both  of  them  are  said  to  have  used  the  term  Trava-rrep/xia.  The 
description  of  the  theory  (441a.  19)  as  one  of  dynamism  would  conform 
better  with  the  general  principles  of  Anaxagoras  than  with  the 
mechanical  philosophy  of  Democritus.  In  strictness,  wauaTrcpfxia  is  a 
term  which  Democritus  could  not  legitimately  use. 


166  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

water  being  non-cohesive.     For  this  reason  it  is  harder 
to   hold   water    in   one's   hand   than    it    is   to   hold   oil. 

7  Now,  since  water  is  the  only  liquid  which  when  heated 
exhibits  no  denser  consistency  than  before,  we  must 
evidently  look  elsewhere  for  the  cause  of  flavour.  For 
all  flavours  are  more  dense  when  heated.  Heat  is  a 
contributing  cause  ([not  the  sole  one]).     Apparently  the 

441  b  flavours  that  are  found  in  fruits  have  a  prior  existence 

8  in  the  earth.  In  the  same  spirit  many  of  the  ancient 
physiologers 1  say  that  water  is  like  the  soil  through 
which  it  passes,  and  this  is  particularly  evident  in  the 
case  of  salt  waters,  for  salts  are  a  form  of  soil.  Also, 
water  that  has  been  filtered  through  bitter  ashes  acquires 

9  a  bitter  taste.  Further,  we  often  find  springs  that  are 
bitter  and  others  that  are  pungent,  while  others  still 
have  different  flavours.  The  greatest  variety  of  flavours 
is  found,  as  one  might  suppose,  amongst  plants.  It  is 
the  nature  of  moisture,  as  of  other  things,  to  be  affected 
by  its  opposite  and  its  opposite  is  the  dry.  Conse- 
quently, it  is  affected  by  fire,  which  is  by  nature  dry. 

10  Now,  heat  is  the  peculiar  property  of  fire,  and  the  dry 
is  the  peculiar  property  of  the  earth,  as  was  said  in 
the  treatise  On  the  Elements?  Neither  fire,  nor  earth, 
nor  any  other  element,  as  such,  acts  or  is  acted  upon. 
It  is  only  in  so  far  as  each  thing  contains  in  itself  the 
principle  of  opposition  that  it  either  acts  or  is  acted  upon.3 

1  Lewes  finds  this  idea  expressed  in  Hippocrates.    Cf.  Aristotle,  p.  250. 

2  The  reference  is  probably  to  De  gen.  et  corr.  3296  18-330&  9.  On 
the  lost  treatise  we  pi  crToixeiuv  see  Heitz,  Die  verlorenen  Schriften  d. 
Aristoteles,  p.  76. 

::A  thing  acts  or  is  acted  upon  through  certain  of  the  qualities 
possessed  by  it  and  through  the  action  of  opposing  qualities. 


chap.  iv.  FLAVOUR   AND   MOISTURE  167 

As,     therefore,     those     who     dissolve     a     colour     or     an 
flavour    in    water,    cause    the    water    to    absorb    it,    so 
nature    acts    upon    the    dry    and    earthy    elements,  and 
by   filtering   water   through    these    elements   and   stimu- 
lating  them   into  activity  by  heat,  it  causes  the  moist 
element    to   acquire   a   certain  quality.      This  condition,  12 
which  is  wrought  in  moisture   by  means  of  the   above 
mentioned   dry    element,   is   flavour,   and   it   consists   in 
the  conversion  of  a  potential  |taste  into  an  actual  one.1 
For  the  sense-organ  which  is  already  in  a  condition  of 
potentiality,  passes   over   into   a   condition   of  actuality. 
The  process  of  sensation  does  not  resemble  learning  so 
much  as  it  resembles  contemplation.     That  flavours  do 
not  attach  to  everything  dry,  but  only  to  the  dry  that  13 
is  nutritive,  either  as  a  positive  or  negative  condition, 
one  may  conclude   from   the   fact   that    the   dry  is   not- 
found  apart   from  the  moist  nor  the  moist  apart   from 
the   dry.     Neither   one  when   taken    alone  is   food-stuff 
for    living    creatures,    but    only    when    combined.       In 
animal    food    it    is    the    tactual    elements    which    effect  14 
growth  and  decay.      And  it  is  by  virtue  of  the  warmth 
or  cold   in  the  assimilated   food   that   these  phenomena 
are  produced.     For  these  are  the  properties  that  cause 
growth  and  decay.     The  administered  food  nourishes  in  442  a 
so  far  as   it   is  gustable.     For  everything   is   nourished 
by  means  of  the  sweet,  whether  pure  or  mixed.     This  15 
subject   must    be   more   definitely   treated    in   the   work 

1The  gustable  or  flavour  {xv/xos)  is  described  at  4416  19  as  an  effect 
produced  in  a  moist  substance  by  that  which  is  dry.  Flavour  is 
therefore,  the  sapid  moist,  while  the  object  of  smell  is  described  (443a  2) 
as  the  '  sapid  dry. '  The  odoriferous  and  the  gustable  (savour  and 
flavour)  are  closely  allied. 


168  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

On  Generation l ;  for  the  present  we  only  touch  upon 
it  so  far  as  necessary.  Heat  disposes  to  growth  and 
brings  food  into  a  prepared  condition ;  it  absorbs  what 
is  light  and  rejects  the  salt  and  bitter  because  of 
their  heaviness.  What  external  heat  effects  in  external 
bodies,  is   also    produced    by    internal    heat   in  animals 

1 6  and  plants.  Nourishment,  then,  is  caused  by  the  sweet. 
The  other  flavours  are  mingled  in  food  in  the  same 
way  as  the  bitter  and  pungent,  i.e.  to  serve  as  a 
relish.  This  is  for  the  purpose  of  counterbalance,  and 
because  the  sweet  is  over-nutritive  and  swims  on  the 
stomach. 

As  colours  are  a  combination  of  white  and  black,  so 
flavours  are  derived  from  sweet  and  bitter.     They  depend 

17  severally  on  a  proportion  of  more  or  less,  on  a  proportion 
of  mixture  and  motion  either  numerically  expressible,  or 
indeterminate.  Those  mixtures,  however,  which  produce 
pleasure  are  numerically  expressible.  The  oily  flavour  is 
to  be  classed  with  the  sweet;  the  salt  and  bitter  are 
closely  allied,  while    the   sour,  pungent,  astringent,  and 

18  acid  are  intermediary.  And  so  the  varieties  of  flavours 
and  colours  are  pretty  nearly  the  same  in  number;  for 
there  are  six  of  each,  if  one  regards,  as  is  reasonable,  the 
gray  as  a  sort  of  black.2  We  have  then  to  include 
yellow  in  white,  just  as  we  referred  the  oily  flavour  to  the 

1  Aristotle  is  here  referring  to  the  subject  of  growth  and  decay,  not 
to  the  nature  of  taste.  The  subject  is  treated  in  De  gen.  et  corr.  320a 
8ff. 

2  And  further,  if  one  regards  yellow  as  a  species  of  white.  Otherwise 
we  have  seven  colours  as  enumerated  at  note  2,  p,  87.  I  have  retained 
Susemihl's  conjecture  e£  for  eirrd,  adopted  by  Biehl  (cf.  Alexander 
Aphrod.  Comment,  ad  loc).  Prantl,  however,  calls  the  Aporia  of 
Alexander  "  ungeschickt "  (Aristot.  Ueber  die  Farben,  p.  117). 


chap.  iv.  THE    SENSE   OF   TOUCH  169 

sweet,  while  crimson,  sea-purple,  green,  and  blue,  are 
intermediary  between  white  and  black,  and  all  other 
shades  are  combinations  of  these.  As  black  is  privation  19 
of  the  white  in  a  diaphanous  medium,  so  the  salt  and 
bitter  are  privation  of  the  sweet  in  a  nutritive  moist 
substance.  Consequently  the  ashes  of  anything  that  has 
been  burnt  are  bitter ;  for  the  potable  element  has  been 
consumed. 

Democritus  and  most  of  the  physiologers  who  treat  the 
subject  of  sensation  make  the  most  remarkable  blunder, 
for  they  resolve  all  sensible  objects  into  the  tangible.  If,  442  b 
indeed,  this  is  correct,  each  of  the  senses  becomes  evidently  20 
a  sense  of  touch.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  this  is 
impossible.  Further,  they  treat  the  common  functions  of 
all  the  senses  as  special  functions.  For  the  perception  of 
magnitude,  figure,  roughness,  smoothness,  and  sharpness 
and  bluntness  in  solid  bodies,  is  the  common  function  of 
all  the  senses,  and  if  not  of  all,  then  at  least  the  common 
function  of  sight  and  touch.  It  is  in  these  perceptions,  21 
therefore,  that  the  senses  are  subject  to  error ;  but  they 
are  not  subject  to  error  in  their  special  sensations, 
e.g.  sight  is  not  fallible  regarding  colour  nor  hearing 
regarding  sound.  Again,  these  physiologers  refer  the 
special  functions  to  the  general,  as  Democritus  does  with 
white  and  black,1  the  latter  of  which  he  identifies  with 
the   rough    and    the   former    with    the    smooth,  and   he 

1  White  is  due  to  smooth  atoms  and  their  aggregation  is  a  smooth 
surface.  Black  is  due  to  rough  and  uneven  atoms  and  their  aggrega- 
tion is  a  rough  and  uneven  surface  (cf.  Theophrastus,  De  sensu,  73). 
Further,  however,  the  quality  of  the  visible  is  affected  by  the  rapidity  of 
motion  in  the  effluxes  and  by  the  condition  of  the  air  itself  (Theoph. 
De  .sensu,  80). 


170  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

reduces  flavours 1  to  atomic  forms.  And  yet  it  is 
either  not  the  function  of  any  sense  to  discern  common 
properties,  or  else  this  power  belongs  to  the   eye  more 

22  than  to  any  other  organ.  If,  however,  this  power 
falls  rather  to  the  lot  of  taste,  it  is  at  any  rate  the 
function  of  the  most  delicate  sense  to  discriminate  the 
slightest  distinctions,  each  after  its  kind,  so  that  taste 
would  have  to  discriminate  common  properties  better  than 
any  other  sense  and   be  the  most   discerning  judge  of 

23  atomic  figures.  Further,  all  sensible  objects  contain  the 
principle  of  opposition,  e.g.  in  colour  black  is  the  opposite 
of  white,  and  in  flavour  bitter  is  the  opposite  of  sweet ;  but 
one  figure  does  not  appear  to  be  the  opposite  of  another 
figure,  for  to   what  sort  of    polygon   would   a   circle   be 

24  opposed  ?  Further,  the  atomic  figures  being  infinite  in 
number,  it  necessarily  follows  that  flavours  are  also 
infinite  in  number.  For  what  is  the  explanation  of  the 
fact  that  one  flavour  produces  a  sensation  and  another 
flavour  does  not  produce  it  ? 

We  have  now  treated  the  subject  of  the  gus table  and 
flavour.  The  other  aspects  of  flavour  receive  their 
proper  consideration  in  the  treatise  On  the  Physiology  of 
Plants? 

1  Flavour-qualities  are  explained  by  Democritus  in  a  way  similar  to 
variations  in  colour,  i.e.  white  and  black  are  analogous  to  sweet  and 
bitter.  Sweet  is  due  to  round  smooth  atoms  ;  bitter  to  rough  and 
angular  ones  (Theoph.  De  sensu,  65,  66). 

2  The  two  books  on  plants  {-repl  (pvrQu)  are  frequently  referred  to  by 
Aristotle  (468a  31,  4676  4,  656a  3,  7836  20)  and  are  mentioned  in  the 
catalogue  of  Diogenes  Laertius,  but  were  apparently  lost  as  early  as  the 
time  of  Alexander  Aphrodisiensis  {fior.  circa  220  a.d.);  cf.  Zeller, 
Aristotle,  Eng.  tr.  Vol.  I.  p.  91. 


CHAPTER  V. 

In  like  manner  one  must  also  treat  of  smell.  For  the 
same  effect  which  is  produced  by  the  dry  or  the  moist,  is 
produced  in  another  connection  by  savoury  moisture  in 
air  and  water  equally.  Now  we  observe  that  the 
diaphanous  is  a  common  principle  in  these  two  elements ; 
the  element,  however,  is  not  odoriferous  by  virtue  of  its 
being  diaphanous,  but  by  virtue  of  its  capacity  to  exude  4430 
and  throw  off  dry  savour.  For  smell  is  exercised  not 
only  in  the  air  but  also  in  water.  This  is  evidently  so 
in  the  case  of  fishes  and  mollusks  1 ;  for  these  are  known  2 
to    be    endowed    with    smell   although    there   is   no    air 

1  The  Testacea  (6<rrpa/c65ep/xa),  as  used  by  Aristotle,  include  the 
Mollusea  (in  the  modern  meaning),  excepting  the  Cephalopods.  They 
include  also  the  Ascidians  and  Echini,  although  these  are  sometimes 
grouped  by  Aristotle  amongst  the  Zoophytes.  The  Testacea  form  the 
lowest  group  in  the  animal  scale,  lacking  as  they  do  the  power  of 
locomotion  and  the  higher  senses,  as  sight  and  hearing.  The  Mollusea 
(fj.a\dKia)  correspond  to  the  modern  Cephalopods,  and  the  Crustacea 
(fxaXaKoo-TpcLKa)  include  the  crabs,  crayfish,  lobster,  etc.,  which  have  a 
soft  interior  and  a  shell -like  exterior,  the  shell  being,  however,  flexible 
and  not  brittle  as  in  the  case  of  the  Testacea.  These  three  classes 
and  the  Insecta  (eVro^a)  form  Aristotle's  four  classes  of  bloodless 
animals.  Cf.  Ogle's  Aristotle  on  the  Parts  of  Animals,  pp.  xxix,  222; 
Meyer's  Aristoteles  Thierhunde,  pp.   159  ff. 

171 


172  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

in  the  water  (for  the  air  comes  to  the  surface  when 
found  in  water)  and  they  have  no  respiration.  If  one 
assumes  that  both  air  and  water  are  moist  elements, 
smell  would  be  the  dry  sapidity  in  the  moist  and  such 

3  would  be  the  nature  of  an  odoriferous  body.  That  this 
condition  in  an  object  is  derived  from  a  sapid  element  is 
a  plain  conclusion  from  things  that  do  and  do  not  emit 
smell.  For  the  simple  elements,  such  as  fire,  air,  earth, 
and  water,  are  non-odorous  because  the  moist  and  dry  in 
them  are  non-sapid,   excepting  when    a   combination    is 

4  produced.  This  is  why  even  the  sea  has  a  smell ;  it 
contains  a  sapid  dry  element.  Salts  are  more  odorous 
than  nitre,  as  is  proven  by  the  oil  derived  from  them. 
Nitre,  in  turn,  is  more  odorous  than  earth.  Further,  a 
stone  is  inodorous,  for  it  is  without  sapidity ;  woods,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  odorous,  for  they  are  sapid,  and 
amongst  woods  those  that  are  watery  are  less  odorous. 

5  Further,  amongst  metals  gold  is  inodorous,  for  it  is  not 
sapid ;  bronze,  however,  and  iron  are  odorous.  When 
the  moist  element  is  burned  out  of  metals,  the  slag 
becomes  still  less  odorous.  Silver  and  tin  are  more 
odorous  than  some  and  less  odorous  than  other  metals ; 

6  for  they  contain  moisture.  Some  writers  regard  smell  as 
a  smoke-like  exhalation  which  is  common  to  earth  and 
air  [and  all  the  naturalists  fall  back  on  this  explanation 
of  smell].     And  so  Heraclitus  made  the  remark  that  if 

7  all  things  were  smoke,  we  should  discern  everything  by 
our  nostrils.  Now,  the  naturalists  all  explain  smell  on 
this  theory,  some  of  them  describing  it  as  vapour,  others 
as  an  exhalation,  and  others  as  a  combination  of  both  of 
these.      Vapour  is  a  kind  of  moisture,  whereas  a  smoke- 


chap.v.  NATURE    OF    SMELL  173 

like  exhalation  is,  as  we  have  said,  common  to  air  and 
earth.     Water   is   derived   from   vapour,  and   a   sort   of 
earth  is    developed    from    smoke-like    exhalation.       But 
neither  of  these  two  seems  to  be  the  odorous.      For  vapour  8 
is  due  to  water,  while  smoke-like  exhalation  cannot  possibly 
be  generated  in  water.     And  yet  creatures  that  live  in 
the  water  have  the  sense  of  smell,  as  was  said  above. 
Again,  exhalations  here  have  the  same  meaning  as  emana-  443  b 
tions,  and  if  the  emanation  theory  was  wrong,  so  is  this 
wrong.      It  is  clear  that  the  moisture  which  is  found  in  9 
the  air  (for  the  air  also  has  a  moist  character)  and  in  water 
is  capable  of  deriving  something  from  the  sapid  dry  element 
and   of  being   affected   by  it.     Furthermore,  if  the  dry 
element,  when  saturated,  as  it  were,  acts  in  moisture  in 
the  same  way  as  it  does  in  air,  smells  must  evidently 
correspond  to  tastes.     But  precisely  this  fact  is  found  in  10 
certain   flavours   and   savours.      For    there    are    pungent, 
sweet,  harsh,  astringent,  oily  smells,  and  one  might  say 
that  rancid  odours  correspond  to  bitter  tastes.     As  the 
former,  therefore,   are  revolting   to   the  taste,  so  rancid 
tastes  are  revolting  to  the  smell.     Evidently,  then,  that 
quality   which   in  water  is   flavour,  in  air  and  water  is 
smell.     This  explains  why  cold  and  frost  blunt  flavours  11 
and   obscure   smells.     For    cold  and  frost   nullify   heat, 
which  is  the  moving  and  active  principle  here. 

There    are    two  sorts1    of  odorous   objects ;    for   it  is 
untrue  that  there  are  no  varieties  of  odorous  objects,  as 
some   maintain.      Such   varieties   do   exist.       One  must, 
however,  explain  in  what  sense  this  is  true  and  in  what  12 
sense    not    true.       One    variety  corresponds,  as    clearly 

1  The  agreeable  and  disagreeable. 


174  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

explained,  to  flavour,  and  contains  the  pleasurable  and 
painful  accidentally.  For  owing  to  the  fact  that  these 
smells  concern  our  nutritive  power,  they  are  agreeable  to 
those  who  have  desire  and  disagreeable  to  those  who  are 
sated  and  feel  no  desire.  Neither  is  the  smell  agreeable  to 
those  to  whom  the  food  which  has  the  smell  is  disagreeable. 

13  Consequently,  these  smells  contain,  as  we  said,  the  pleasant 
and  painful  accidentally,  and  this  is  the  reason  why  they 
are  common  to  all  animals.  There  is  another  variety  of 
smells  which  are  pleasant  in  themselves,  e.g.  the  fragrance 
of  flowers.  For  they  incite  us  in  no  respect,  whether  more 
or  less,  to  food,  nor  do  they  in  any  way  contribute  to  the 
stirring  of  any  desire ;  they  have  rather  the  opposite 
effect.     What  Strattis 1  says,  mocking  Euripides,  is  true  : 

When  lentil-soup  you  cook, 
Pray,  add  no  spices  to  it. 

444  a  By  mixing  such  spices  in  their  potations,  men  now-a-days 

14  force  pleasure,  as  is  their  habit,  believing  that  the 
pleasure  which  is  really  derived  from  two  sensations2  is 

15  derived  from  only  one.  Smell  of  this  sort  is  peculiar  to 
man,  but  smell  that  is  based  on  flavour  is  sensed  by 
other  animals,3  as  remarked  above.     The  varieties  of  the 

1  Strattis,  of  Athens,  the  comedian  (Jlor.  410  B.C.).  Cf.  Meinecke, 
Fragm.  Com.  Graec.  p.  436. 

2  The  pleasures  of  eating  and  drinking  are  combined  from  smell  and 
taste. 

3  The  qualities  of  smell  are  few  and  inexact,  because  of  the  lack  of 
development  of  this  sense  in  man  {De  an.  421a  10).  Man  possesses 
the  most  delicate  sense  of  touch  and  the  worst  sense  of  smell.  In  the 
lower  animals  smell  is  merely  a  handmaid  of  touch,  while  in  man  it 
not  only  serves  in  this  capacity  but  interprets  the  odoriferous  world  as 
pleasant  and  unpleasant  per  se,  i.e.  apart  from  its  association  with 
flavour. 


chap.v.  FUNCTION   OF   SMELL  175 

latter,  because  the  pleasant  is  incidental,  are  classified  in 
terms  of  flavours,  which   does   not  apply  to   the  former 
class,  because  there  the  smell  is  pleasant  or  disagreeable  in 
itself.     The  reason  why  this  class  of  smells  is  peculiar 
to  man  is  because  of  the  condition   of  his  brain.      For  16 
man's    brain    is   by   nature    cool,   and   the   blood  in   its. 
surrounding  veins  is  thin  and  pure,  though  easily  chilled 
(which  explains  why  the  evaporation  of  food  when  cooled 
in  this  region  causes  catarrhal  colds),  and  so  this  variety 
of  smell  has  been  developed  in  man  as  beneficial  to  his 
health.1      For  no  other  function  can  be  ascribed  to  this 
class    of    smells,    although     this    function    is     evidently  17 
exercised    by    them.       Food,    whether    solid    or    liquid, 
although    agreeable,   is    often    harmful ;    but    the    smell 
exhaled  from  savoury  food  indicates,  one  may  say,  what  is 
absolutely  and  always  beneficial  to  man  in  whatsoever  18 
condition  he  is.      Consequently,    smell    is    mediated    by 
respiration,  not  in  all  animals,  but  in  man,  the   quad- 
rupeds and  such  other  sanguineous   animals  as  have  a 
larger  share  in  the  employment  of  air.     For  smells  being 
transmitted  to  the  brain  by  virtue  of  the  levity  of  the 
heat  in  them,  the   regions  about   the  brain  are  thereby 
the  more  healthy.      For  the  potency  of  smell  is  naturally 
warm.      "'\N~ature  employs  respiration  for  two  purposes ;  19 
its    main    purpose    is    to    assist   the   functioning   of  the 
chest ;  its  secondary  function  is  to  transmit  smell.     For 
in  respiration   the   air  produces,  as   it  were   in   passage, 
motion  in  the  nostrils.2"'*      Smell  of  this  sort  is  peculiar  to  20 

1  Owing  to  their  warm,  dry  nature. 

2  This  sentence  is  out  of  connection  with  the  following  one,  and  the 
passage  enclosed  in  asterisks  should  probably  be  inserted  at  the  markf 
4446  7. 


176  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

human  nature,  for  man  has,  in  proportion  to  his  size, 
the  largest  and  moistest  brain  of  all  animals.  For  this 
reason  man  is  the  only  animal,  one  may  say,  that  senses 
the  smell  of  flowers  and  similar  smells,  and  finds  pleasure 
in  them.  For  the  warmth  and  movement  in  these 
444^  smells  is  proportional  to  the  excess  of  moisture  and 
coolness   in   the   brain.     To  the   other  animals  that  are 

21  endowed  with  lungs  for  respiration,  nature  has  given  the 
perception  of  another  kind  of  smell,  so  as  to  avoid  the 
creation  of  two  sense-organs.  It  is  enough  for  these 
respiring  animals  that  they  have  the  sensation  of  only 
one    class    of    smells,    while     man     discriminates     both 

22  classes.  tThat  the  non-respiring  animals  possess  the 
sense  of  smell  is  evident.  For  fishes  and  all  the  varieties 
of  insects,  on  account  of  the  connection  between  food  and 
smell,  distinguish  smells  with  precision  and  at  a  distance, 
as  we  observe  in  the  case  of  bees  and  that  variety  of 
small  ants  sometimes  called  cnips 1  and  purple  sea-fish, 
as  well  as  in  the  case  of  many  other  similar  animals  which 
have  a  keen  sense  of  smell  for  food.     The  organ  of  sensation 

23  is  not  so  clearly  defined.  One  might,  therefore,  raise  the 
question  as  to  the  organ  of  the  sense  of  smell,  although 
smell  is  mediated  exclusively  by  respiration  (this  is 
plainly  so  in  all  respiring  animals).  None  of  the  above- 
mentioned  animals,  however,  respire,  and  yet  they 
perceive  smells,  unless   we  are  to  assume  an  additional 

1  The  term  '  Cnips  '  has  come  into  use  in  Zoology  to  describe  a  beetle 
allied  to  the  Cryptarcha  (cf.  E.  Reitter,  Verh.  Ver.,  Briinn,  xii.  1873, 
p.  163).  The  reference  here,  however,  appears  to  be  to  some  small 
variety  of  ant  such  as  the  formica  flava,  or  to  the  common  red  ant 
{monomorium  pharaonis,  cf.  Comstock,  Manual  for  the  Study  of  Insect*, 
p.  643). 


chap.  v.  SMELL    AND    RESPIRATION  177 

sense  beyond  the  five,  and  this  is  impossible.      For  it  is  24 
smell  that  senses  the  odorous,  and  these  animals  detect 
odour,  though  perhaps  not  in  the  same  way  as  respiring 
animals.      In    respiring   animals    the   breath   lifts   up   a 
superficial   membrane,   a   sort   of  cover,  as   it  were   (for 
which    reason   they    do    not    smell    without    respiration), 
whereas  in  the  non-respiring  animals1  this  is  lacking,  just 
as  over  the  eyes  some  animals  have  eyelids  and  without 
lifting  these  do  not  see,  while  others  are  hard-eyed  and 
have  no  lids,  and  so  do  not  need  to  lift  any  covering,  but 
see  at  once  from  the  moment  they  are  able  to  see.     And  25 
so,  too,  no  other   animal   feels    discomfort  from   a   smell 
which  is  intrinsically    malodorous,  unless  it  chances   to 
be  harmful.      But  by  these  harmful  smells  animals  are 
sometimes  destroyed,  just  as  men  often  get  a  headache 
from   coal-gas   and   frequently   lose   their  lives.      In  the 
same  way  other  animals  are  destroyed   by  sulphur  and 
asphalt  fumes,  and  because  they  are   so  affected   by  such  445 a 
fumes  they  avoid  them.      But  for  malodour,  as  such,  they  26 
take   no   thought    (although    many   vegetables  have   bad 
smells),  excepting  in  so  far  as  taste  or  food  is  influenced  27 
by  it. 

Inasmuch  as  the  number  of  the  senses  is  uneven,  and 
every  uneven  number  has  a  middle  term,  it  seems  that 
smell  occupies  a  middle  position  between  the  senses  that 

1  In  aquatic  animals  gills  perform  a  function  analogous  to  the  lungs 
in  respiring  animals.  A  similar  function  is  performed  in  insects  by  the 
membrane  at  the  junction  of  abdomen  and  trunk  {De  resp.  4786  15, 
475a  8).  The  gills  in  fishes  and  the  membrane  in  insects  do  not,  how- 
ever, appear  to  mediate  smell,  as  the  lungs  do  in  respiring  animals. 
Owing  to  the  semi-tangible  nature  of  odour,  it  appears  to  act  directly  in 
these  cases,  i.e.  by  impinging  immediately  on  the  sense-organ  without 
the  assistance  of  inhalation. 

M 


178  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

operate  by  direct  contact,  viz.  touch  and  taste  on  the  one 

28  hand,  and  those  which  function  indirectly  through  a 
medium,  viz.  sight  and  hearing  on  the  other  hand. 
Consequently,  the  odorous  object  is  something  which 
affects  foods  (for  these  fall  under  the  category  of  the 
tangible),  and,  further,  it  affects  audition,  because  smells 
are  sensed  in  the  media  of  air  and  water.  Smell, 
then,  is  in  a  way  common  to  these  two  things,  and  is 
found  in  the  tangible,  the  audible,  and  the  diaphanous. 
It  is  with  good  reason,  therefore,  that  smell  has  been 
compared  to  the  imbruing  and  washing  of  a  dry  element 

29  found  in  the  moist  and  liquid.  Eegarding  the  sense  in 
which  one  may  or  may  not  apply  the  term  '  species '  to 
odours,  let  the  foregoing  discussion  suffice. 

There  is  a  view  held  by  certain  Pythagoreans,  which  is 
ill-founded.       They  hold   that   certain   animals   feed    on 

30  smells.  Now  we  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  food  is 
a  composite  thing,  for  the  creatures  which  are  nourished 
are  not  simple,  and  consequently  there  is  an  excrement  of 
food,  sometimes  within  the  animal  itself,  and  sometimes 
external,  as  in  the  case  of  plants.  Further,  water  when 
taken  alone  and  unmixed  is  not  fitted  to  yield  nourish- 
ment, for  what  is  assimilated  into  the  body  must  be  of  a 
solid  nature.     Again,  it  is  much  less  reasonable  that  air 

31  can  become  solid  matter.  In  addition  to  this,  we  observe 
that  all  animals  have  a  receptacle  for  food,  from  which 
after  its  entrance  the  body  assimilates  it.  The  sense- 
organ,  however,  is  situated  in  the  head,  and  smell  enters 
with  a  breath-like  inhalation,  so  that  it  penetrates  to  the 

32  respiratory  region.  That  smell,  as  such,  does  not  contri- 
bute  to  nourishment,  is  plain.      That  it  does,  however, 


chap.  v.  SMELL   AND    NUTRITION  179 

contribute  to  health,  is  evident  from  the  sensation  itself 
and  from  what  has  been  said,1  so  that  what  flavour  is  to 
the  nutritive  organ  and  to  the  parts  nourished,  this  smell 
is  to  health.      Let  these,  then,  be  our  conclusions  regard-  445  ^ 
ing  the  several  sense-organs. 

1  Namely   from   its    association   with   food  and    from  the   effect   of 
inhaled  warmth  on  the  head. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

One  might  raise  the  question  whether,  supposing  all 
bodies  to  be  infinitely  .divisible,  the  sensible  qualities  of 
bodies  are  also  infinitely  divisible,  such  qualities  as  colour, 
flavour,  smell,  sound,  weight,  cold,  heat,  lightness,  rough- 
ness, and  softness.  Or  must  we  say  that  this  is  impos- 
sible ?  For  every  one  of  these  qualities  produces 
sensation.       They    all    receive    their    name    from    their 

2  capacity  to  stimulate  sensation.  Therefore  sensation 
must  be  infinitely  divisible,  and  every  magnitude  must  be 
sensible.  For  it  is  impossible  to  perceive  a  white  object 
without  its  having  dimensions.  Were  this  not  true,  it 
would  be  possible  to  have  a  body  without  colour  or 
weight  or  any  similar  quality,  in  which  case  it  would  be 

3  absolutely  imperceptible,  for  these  qualities  constitute 
the  sensible.  The  sensible  then  would  have  to  be  com- 
posed of  the  non-sensible.  But  it  must  be  composed  of 
sensible  qualities,  for  it  cannot  be  composed  of  mathe- 
matical elements.  And,  furthermore,  what  organ  could 
we  use  for  the  discrimination  and  cognition  of  such 
elements  ?  Could  we  employ  reason  ?  But  they  are  not 
rational  elements,  neither  does  reason  think  the  external 

180 


dbsensu  SENSE   AND    MAGNITUDE  181 

world,  excepting  in  conjunction  with  sensation.1  At  the 
same  time,  if  this  view  of  the  infinite  divisibility  of  sensible 
qualities  were  true,  it  would  appear  to  furnish  support  for 
the  advocates  of  atomic  magnitudes.  For  in  this  way  the  4 
problem  would  be  solved.  It  is,  however,  impossible. 
This  subject  has  been  discussed  in  our  treatise  On  Motion? 
In  the  solution  of  these  questions  one  will  see  why  it  is 
that  the  various  forms  of  colour,  flavour,  sound,  and  other 
sensible  qualities,  are  determinate.  For  in  things  that 
have  extremes,  the  internal  properties  must  also  be 
determinate.  The  opposite  is  an  extreme.  Now,  every  5 
sensible  quality  implies  opposition,  e.g.  in  colours,  white  and 
black;  in  flavour,  sweet  and  bitter.  And  in  everything 
else  the  opposites  form  extremes.  The  continuous  is  there- 
fore divisible3  into  infinite  unequal  parts,  but  into  deter- 
minate equal  parts.  Now,  whatever  is  not  in  its  own  nature 
continuous  is  divisible  into  determinate  forms.  Inasmuch  6 
as  qualities  must  be  interpreted  as  forms,  and  inasmuch 
as  continuity  is  always  given  in  these,  we  must  suppose 
a  difference  between  the  potential  and  actual.  This  is 
why  the  ten  thousandth  part  of  a  visible  grain  of  millet 
is  unseen,  although  the  eye  rests  upon  it,  and  so  too  a  446  a 
quarter  tone  is  undetected  by  hearing,  although  the  whole 

1  Reason  thinks  the  external  world  only  in  terms  of  images,  which 
are  derived  from  sensation  {De  an.  432a  8). 

2  The  reference  is  to  the  last  three  books  of  the  Physics,  which  are  often 
referred  to  by  Aristotle  as  -rrepl  Kivrjaews  (cf.  272a  30,  299a  10,  318a  3, 
1049&  36).  The  particular  reference  here  is  to  the  discussion  of 
'  continuity  '  and  '  divisibility'  in  Physics,  213a  21  ff. 

3  All  magnitudes  are  infinitely  divisible  {Phys.  206a  10  ff. ),  and  all 
number  is  capable  of  being  infinitely  increased.  Although  magnitudes 
are  infinitely  divisible,  their  infinity  is  only  potential.  The  infinitely 
small  particle  has  only  a  notional  existence. 


182  aristotle's  psychology  desensf 

7  continuous  melody  is  heard.  But  the  interval  from, 
mean  to  extreme  is  not  appreciable  to  us.  And  the  same 
thing  applies  to  the  excessively  small  amongst  other 
sensible  objects.  They  are  discernible  potentially,  but  not 
actually,  and  when  regarded  in  isolation.  A  foot-line  is 
contained  in  a  two-foot  line  potentially,  but  actually  only 

8  after  division  has  been  made.  When  excessively  small 
parts  like  these  are  separated  off,  it  is  reasonable  to 
suppose   that   they  would  be  lost  in   their   environment, 

9  just  as  a  tiny  particle  of  flavour  is  lost  in  the  sea. 
Nevertheless,  since  this  excessively  small  particle,  when 
regarded  in  itself  and  in  isolation,  is  imperceptible  (for  the 
excessively  small  has  only  a  potential  existence  in  a  body 
that  is  more  discernible),  neither  is  any  sensible  object  of 
this  sort,  in  isolation,  actually  perceptible,  and  yet  it  is  a 
sensible  object,  because  it  is  so  potentially,  and  will  be 
actually  so,  when  added  on  to  something.     We  have  now 

io  explained  that  certain  magnitudes  and  qualities  are  imper- 
ceptible, and  have  stated  the  reason  for  this,  and  have 
shown  in  what  sense  things  are  perceptible,  and  in  what 
sense  they  are  not.  When,  however,  inherent  qualities 
are  so  constituted  in  reference  to  themselves  as  to  be 
actually  perceptible,  and  not  merely  so  in  conjunction 
with  an  entire  body,  but  also  when  regarded  alone,  then 

ii  colours,  flavours,  and  sounds,  must  be  numerically  limited. 
One  might  raise  the  question  whether  sensible  objects 
or  the  movements  excited  by  sensible  objects — whatever 
be  the  way  in  which  sensation  is  effected  by  their 
activity — are  first  transmitted  to  a  medium,  as  appears  to 
be  the  case  with  smell  and  sound.  For  a  person 
standing    near  by  has  an  earlier  perception  of  a  smell, 


chap.  vi.  MEDIUM    OF    SENSATION  183 

and  a  sound  reaches  one  sometime  after  a  blow.     Is  the  12 
same  thing  true  of  the  visible  and  of  light  ?     According 
to  Empedocles  sunlight  is  first  transmitted  to  a  medium 
before  it  reaches  the  eye  or  the  earth,  and  this  seems  to  13 
be  reasonable.     For  whatever   is  moved  is  moved  from 
one  point  to  another,  so  that  a  certain  time  must  elapse 
in  which  motion  from  one  point  to  another  takes  place. 
But  all  time  is  divisible,   and   consequently  there   is  a 
moment  when  the  ray  is  not  yet  visible,  but  is  still  in  446  £ 
transit  in  the  medium.     Also  if  everything  at  the  same  14 
moment  hears  and  has  heard,  and  in  a  word  perceives 
and    has    perceived    and    there    is    no    time    process   in 
sensations,    nevertheless   they   lack    this  process   in   the 
same   way 1   in   which  sound,   after  the   blow   has   been 
struck,  has  not  yet  reached  the   ear.2     The  shifting  of  15 
letters  also  shows  this  plainly,  because  their  movement 
takes   place   in   a   medium.     For  people  appear  not    to 
have  heard  what  was  said  because  the  air3  has  shifted.    Is 
this  true  also  of  colour  and  light  ?     For  it  is  not  owing  16 
to  a  particular  condition  that  one  thing  sees  and  another 
is  seen,  like  two  equivalent  terms.     For   it   would  not 
then   have  been  necessary  for  either  to  be   in   a  given 
position.     For  when  things  are  equivalent,  nearness  or 
remoteness  from  each  other  makes  no  difference.     It  is  17 
reasonable   that   succession   in  time  should  be  found  in 
sound    and    smell,    for    like     air    and    water,    they    are 

1  Read  o^oi'ws  for  ofiojs. 

2  The  passage  of  time  has  taken  place  in  the  medium,  although  one 
may  not  be  conscious  of  it.  Aristotle  defines  time  as  the  measure  or 
number  of  motion  (Physics,  219a  10  ff ;  De  coelo,  279a  14). 

3  The  letters  have  become  shifted  in  the  air  or  medium,  so  that  one 
hears  a  word  wrongly. 


184  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

continuous,  and  yet  their  movement  is  divisible,  and  so  it 
sometimes  happens  that  the  nearest  and  most  remote 
persons  perceive  the  same  smell,  and  at  other  times  this 
is  not  the  case. 

18  Some  persons  find  a  difficulty  also  in  the  following. 
It  is  impossible,  some  say,  for  different  persons  to  hear, 
see,  or  smell  the  same  thing  in  the  same  way.  For  it  is 
impossible  for  several  persons  who  are  separate  from 
each  other  to  hear  and  smell  alike ;    in  that   event   the 

19  unitary  object  of  sensation  would  have  to  be  separated 
from  itself.  The  primary  stimulus,  as  a  bell,  frankincense, 
or  a  fire,  is  perceived  by  all  as  numerically  one  and  the 
same,  but  in  its  peculiar  qualities  it  is  perceived  with 
numerical  differences,  though  in  its  essential  nature  as 
one  and  the  same  thing ;  for  which  reason  many  persons 
see,  smell,  or  hear  the  same  thing  at  the  same  time. 
One  is  not  concerned  here,  however,  with  bodies,  but 
with  qualities  and  motion  (otherwise  we  should  not  have 
this  phenomenon),  which  are  impossible  apart  from  body. 

20  The  question  of  light  is  different ;  for  light  has  a  sub- 
stantial nature  and  is  not  a  motion 1 ;  in  general  the 
same  determinations  are  not  to  be  applied  to  trans- 
formation and  motion.  Spatial  motions  take  place,  as 
one  might  suppose,  first  into  a  medium  (sound  is  thought 
to  be  the  motion  of  something  subject  to  spatial  change), 

447  #  whereas  that  which  undergoes  transformation  does  so  in 
a  way  different  from  spatial  change.  It  is  possible  that 
transformation    takes    place    in    mass    and    not   first  by 

1  Empedocles  had  described  light  as  motion  (cf.  De  an.  418&  20). 
Aristotle  on  the  other  hand  regards  it  as  a  qualitative  change  in  the 
diaphanous.  It,  therefore,  represents  a  condition  in  a  physical  body 
(air  or  water),  vid.  note  1,  p.  159. 


chap.  vi.  MEDIUM    OF    SENSATION  185 

halves,  as  in  the  case  of  water  which  freezes  at  once  21 
entire.  Nevertheless,  if  what  is  being  heated  or  frozen 
should  be  of  considerable  bulk,  one  part  is  affected  by  the 
adjacent  part,  and  the  first  part  undergoes  changes 
through  its  own  alteration,  and  it  is  not  necessary  that 
the  entire  mass  undergo  alteration  at  the  same  time. 
Taste  would  also  be  subject  to  the  same  conditions  as  22 
smell,  if  we  lived  in  a  medium  of  water  and  perceived 
smells  from  a  distance  without  contact.  When  we  have 
a  medium  for  the  sense-organ,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose 
we  do  not  receive  all  our  impressions  at  once,  excepting 
in  the  instance  of  light,  on  grounds  already  mentioned. 
And  sight  is  also  excepted  on  the  same  grounds,  for  light 
is  the  cause  of  sight. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

Another  similar  problem  touching  sensation  arises  here. 
viz.  whether  or  not  it  is  possible  to  experience  two 
sensations  at  one  and  the  same  moment  of  time,  supposing 
it  to  be  true  that  the  stronger  stimulus  always  displaces 
the  weaker.  For  this  reason,  persons  do  not  see  an  object 
that  falls  upon  the  eye,  if  they  chance  to  be  deep  in  thought, 
or  exercised  by  fear,  or  listening  to  a  loud  sound.      Let 

2  this  serve  as  a  fundamental  truth  and  let  us  also  observe 
that  it  is  easier  to  perceive  what  is  simple  than  what  is 
mixed,  e.g.  it  is  easier  to  taste  unmixed  wine  than  mixed, 
and  so  with  honey  and  colour,  and  it  is  easier  to  dis- 
tinguish the  highest  note  when  taken  alone  than  when 
heard  in  accord  with  the  octave,  because  the  two  things 

3  obscure  each  other.  This  occurs  in  cases  where  a  unity  is 
produced  from  several  elements.  If,  then,  the  stronger 
displaces  the  weaker  stimulus,  it  must  happen,  in  case 
they  are  simultaneous,  that  even  the  stronger  stimulus 
becomes  weaker  than  it  would  be  if  it  were  perceived 
alone.  For  the  weaker  when  mixed  with  it  detracts 
from  its  clearness,  supposing  it  to  be  true  that  every- 

186 


desensu  FUSION   OF   SENSATIONS  187 

thing  taken  simply  is  more  accurately  perceptible.  If 
the  two  are  equal  neither  one  will  be  perceived,  for  they 
will  counteract  each  other  equally.  But  it  is  impossible  4 
to  have  a  simple  sensation.  Consequently,  we  shall  have 
either  no  sensation  at  all  or  a  new  one  fused  out  of  both 
elements.  And  this  appears  to  be  what  actually  happens 
with  mixed  elements,  so  long  as  they  are  mixed.  Since  5 
a  fusion  of  certain  things  is  possible  and  of  others  not, 
the  latter  are  such  as  fall  within  the  province  of  different 
senses.  (For  where  extremes  are  opposite,  fusion  is 
possible,  but  it  is  not  possible  to  form  white  and  acute  447  £ 
into  a  unity,  excepting  in  an  accidental  sense,  not  how- 
ever in  the  sense  in  which  a  union  between  acute  and 
grave  is  possible.)  It  is,  then,  impossible  to  have  a 
simultaneous  sensation  of  these  qualities.  For  the  6 
stimuli  being  equal  destroy  each  other,  since  a  unitary 
stimulus  is  not  derivable  from  them.  If,  however,  they 
are  unequal,  the  stronger  stimulus  produces  the  sensation  ; 
for  the  soul  more  readily  perceives  two  stimuli  simul- 
taneously when  only  one  sense  is  concerned  in  the  single 
act  of  sensation,  as  e.g.  acute  and  grave.  For  simul- 
taneous sensation  on  the  part  of  a  single  sense  is  more 
easily  attained  than  is  the  action  of  two  senses,  such  as 
sight  and  hearing.  But  it  is  not  possible  to  perceive  7 
two  things  simultaneously  with  one  sense  unless  they 
are  fused.  For  the  fusion  will  form  a  unity  and  a  single 
sense  can  perceive  a  single  thing  and  the  single  sensation 
is  a  chronological  unit.  So  then  one  necessarily 
perceives  fused  stimuli  simultaneously,  because  they  are 
perceived  by  a  sense-process  which  in  actuality  is  single. 
The   single   sense   in    actuality    perceives   a   numerically 


188  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

single  object ;  the  single  sense  in  potentiality  perceives 
a  specifically  single  object.1  If  the  sensation,  therefore, 
is  in  actuality  single,  it  will  interpret  the  sense-object 

3  as  a  single  thing.  The  sensations  must  then  be 
fused.  When  they  are  not  fused,  the  sensations  will 
be  in  actuality  two.  However,  there  must  be  a  single 
actuality  which  corresponds  to  a  single  potentiality 
and  a  single  moment  of  time;  for  the  stimulation  and 
exercise  of  a  single  sense  is  once  for  all  single  and  its 
potentiality  is  single.      It  is  consequently  impossible  to 

^  perceive  two  objects  at  one  time  with  a  single  sense. 
But  if  two  objects  that  fall  under  a  single  sense  cannot 
be  perceived  simultaneously,  this  is  plainly  much  less 
possible  when  they  fall  under  two  senses,  as  e.g.  white  and 
sweet.2  For  the  soul  seems  to  denote  what  is  numerically 
one  not  otherwise  than  in  terms  of  simultaneity;  the 
specifically  one  in  terms  of  the  discriminating  sense  and 
io  the  character  of  the  thing.  By  this  I  mean  that  white 
and  black,  which  are  specifically  different,  are  supposedly 
discriminated  by  the  same  sense  ;  also  sweet  and  bitter 
are  discriminated  by  the  same  sense,  although  a  different 
sense  from  the  former  one.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
method  of  perceiving  opposites  is  different,  while  co- 
ordinated pairs  are  perceived  in  the  self-same  manner,  e.g. 
just  as  taste  perceives  the  sweet,  so  sight  perceives  the 

1  Actual  sensation  concerns  only  a  given  quality,  e.g.  white  ;  potential 
sensation,  on  the  other  hand,  concerns  a  given  kind  of  quality,  e.g. 
colour. 

2  Aristotle  concludes  that  the  only  way  in  which  several  sensations 
may  be  simultaneously  experienced  is  by  their  fusion.  By  the  process 
of  fusion,  however,  they  are  reduced  to  unity  and  the  sense  experience 
is  no  longer  manifold  but  unitary. 


chap.  vii.  CO-ORDINATE    SENSATIONS  189 

white ;  as  the  sense  of  sight  perceives  the  black,  so  the 
former  sense  perceives   bitter.     Further,    if    the    sense-  448  a 
processes  of  opposites  are  opposite  to  each  other,  and  if  it  1 1 
is  impossible  for   opposites  to  coexist  in  the    same   in- 
divisible thing,  then  where  opposites  fall  under  a  single 
sense,  as  e.g.  sweet  and  bitter,  they  cannot  be  perceived 
simultaneously.     And  similarly  it  can   be    proven    that  12 
things  which  are  not  opposites  cannot  be  simultaneously 
perceived,  for  some  colours  partake  of  white  and  others 
of  black  and  this  applies  equally  to  other  sensations,  e.g. 
amongst  flavours  certain  ones  have  the  character  of  sweet 
and    others    of   bitter.      Neither    can    fused    objects    be 
simultaneously     perceived,     for     their    ratios     have    the 
character  of  contrariety,  e.g.   the   octave   and    the   fifth, 
unless  they  are  perceived  as  one.      In  this  way  and  not  13 
otherwise  a  single  ratio  of  extremes  is  produced.      For  in 
any  other  case  there  will  be  produced  at  once  the  ratio 
of  the  many  to  the  few,  and  of  the  uneven  to  the  even, 
and  on  the  other  hand  the  ratio  of  the  few  to  the  many, 
and  of  the  even  to  the  uneven.     If  co-ordinates  which  14 
are  specifically  different,  are  further  removed  from  each 
other  and  differ  more  than  things  that  are  specifically  the 
same  {e.g.  sweet  and  white  I  mention  as  co-ordinates,  but 
specifically  different),  and  sweet  differs  from  black  more 
than  white  does,  it  would  be  still  less  possible  for  these 
opposites  to  be  perceived  simultaneously  than  it  would 
be  for  opposites  specifically  the  same.      So   that  if    the  15 
latter  are  not  simultaneously  perceptible,  neither  would 
the  former  be. 

In  regard  to  the  opinion  of  certain  writers  who  treat 
the   subject   of  harmony,   and   say    that   sounds   do    not 


190  aristotle's  psychology  desensu 

really  reach  us  at  the  same  moment,  but  only  appear  to 
do  so  and  we  do  not  notice  this,  the  time  being  imper- 
ceptible, the  question  is  whether  their  opinion  is  right  or 

16  not.  Here,  also,  one  might  perhaps  say  that  we  only 
appear  to  hear  and  see  at  the  same  time,  because  the 
intervening  time  is  not  perceived.  This  is  incorrect ; 
it  is  impossible  for  time  to  be  imperceptible,  or  for  us  to 
be  unconscious  of  it,  but  every  moment  is  perceptible.1 

17  For  when  one  perceives  one's  self  or  something  else  in 
continuous  time,  it  is  impossible  for  one  to  be  then 
unconscious  that  one  is ;  but  if  there  is  in  continuous 
time  a  moment  of  such  duration  that  it  is  altogether 
imperceptible,  it  is  evident  that  one  would  then  be 
unconscious  of  one's  own  existence,  or  would  not 
know  whether  or  not  one  sees  and   perceives.      Further, 

448  £  even  if  one  has  perception,  time  would  not  exist  and 
there  would  be  no  object  nor  any  moment  in  which 
sensation  should  take  place,  unless  it  were  in  the  sense 
that  one  sees  in  a  part  of  time  or  a  part  of  the  object,  if 
there  is  a  measure  of  time  or  object,  which,  owing  to  its 
smallness,  is  totally  imperceptible.  For  if  one  sees  the 
entire  earth,  one  also  perceives  time  itself  in  its 
continuity,  and  not  in  any  of  its  isolated  moments.     Let 

18  C  B  represent  a  time-division  in  which  one  has  no 
perception.  One  sees,  then,  in  a  particular  part  of  the 
whole  or  sees  a  particular  part,  just  as  one  sees  the 
entire  earth,  viz.  by  seeing  a  definite  part  of  it,  and  how 
far  one  walks  in  a  year,  viz.  by  seeing  how  far  one 
walks  in  a  definite  part  of  a  year.  But  in  the  division 
B    C     there    is    no    perception.       Now,    by    virtue    of 

1  On  the  'minimum  visible  '  see  Lewes,  Aristotle,  p.  253. 


chap.  vii.  SIMULTANEITY  191 

perceiving  the  whole  A  B  in  some  definite  part  of  it, 
one  is  said  to  perceive  even  the  entire  earth.  And  19 
the  same  reasoning  holds  good  of  A  C.  For  one  always 
perceives  in  a  part  and  a  part,  and  it  is  impossible 
to  perceive  the  entirety.  And  so  every  thing  is  per- 
ceptible, but  one  does  not  see  what  its  extent  is. 
For  one  sees  the  magnitude  of  the  sun  and  of  the 
four-cubit  measure  from  a  distance ;  they  are  not 
seen,  however,  in  their  real  size,  but  sometimes  they 
seem  indivisible,  and  one  does  not  see  the  indivisible. 
The  reason  for  this  has  been  stated  in  the  foregoing.  20 
One  concludes  from  this  that  there  is  no  imperceptible 
time.1 

We  must  take  into  consideration  the  above-mentioned 
problem,  whether  or  not  it  is  possible  to  have  several 
simultaneous  sensations.  By  'simultaneous'  I  mean  such 
as  are  experienced  in  the  same  part  of  the  soul  and  in 
one  indivisible  moment  of  time.  In  the  first  place,  then,  21 
is  it  possible  that  the  sensations  be  simultaneous  in  the 
sense  that  they  are  experienced  in  different  parts  of 
the  soul,  and  not  in  one  indivisible  part,  though  by 
parts  which  are  indivisible  in  the  sense  of  forming  a 
continuous  whole  ?  Or,  to  take  first  what  affects  the 
single  sense,  as  e.g.  sight,  shall  we  say  that  if  different 
colours  are  sensed  by  different  parts  of  sight,  it  will 
then  have  several  parts  specifically  the  same  ?  For  its 
repeated    sensations    belong   to   the   same   species.      But  22 

1  Aristotle  defines  time  (note  2,  p.  183)  as  the  measure  or  number  of 
motion,  but  time  cannot  exist  apart  from  mind,  as  number  cannot  exist 
apart  from  a  calculator,  and  the  sole  calculator  is  mind  (Phys.  223a 
16  ff.). 

2  Read  Tavra  (supported  by  most  of  the  mss.  )  for  ravra. 


192  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  sensu 

if  one  says  that,  as  in  the  instance  of  our  two  eyes, 
a  certain  unity  and  single  activity  is  produced,  so 
nothing  prevents  our  regarding  the  soul  in  the  same 
way.  If,  however,  the  combination  of  both  forms  an  unit, 
then  that  which  is  perceived  will  be  an  unit,  and  if  they 
remain    uncombined,   then    the   result   will    likewise   be 

23  uncombined.  Again,  the  same  sensations  will  be  mani- 
fold, in   the  sense  in  which   one  speaks  of  sciences   as 

449  a  manifold.  For  neither  is  there  any  actuality  apart 
from  its  corresponding  potentiality,  nor  is  there  any 
sensation  apart  from  actuality.  If  one  does  not  experi- 
ence simultaneously  the  sensations  which  occur  in  a 
single  indivisible  part  of  the  soul,  it  is  clear  that  one  does 
not  experience  others  simultaneously  For  it  is  simpler 
to  perceive  these  several  things  simultaneously  than  it  is 
to   perceive   generically    different   things   simultaneously. 

24  But  if  the  soul  senses  sweet  with  one  part  and  white 
with  another  part,  the  derivative  of  these  two  is  either  an 
unit  or  it  is  not  an  unit.  But  it  must  be  an  unit,  for 
the  perceiving  organ  is  an  unit.  What  is  the  unit,  then, 
with  which  this  organ  is  concerned  ?  For  we  have  no 
unit  from  sweet  and  white.  There  must,  therefore,  be 
some  unitary  principle  in  the  soul,  whereby  it  perceives 
things  as  wholes,1  as  remarked  above,  but  things  generic- 
ally   different  are  sensed  by   different   organs.      Is  then 

25  the  principle  whereby  we  perceive  sweet  and  white  a 
single  organ,  in  so  far  as  these  qualities  are  united. 
but   when   they    are    actually  isolated,  is   it   a    different 

1This  function  is  ascribed  to  the  'common  sense,'  where  the  various 
experiences  of  the  individual  senses  are  fused  into  a  whole  or  the 
percept.     Cf.  Introduction,  Chap.  iv. 


chap.  vii.  LIMITS   OF   PERCEPTION  193 

organ  that  senses  each  of  them  ?  What  applies  to 
the  things  themselves,  applies  similarly  to  the  soul. 
For  numerically  one  and  the  same  thing  is  white  and 
sweet,  and  possesses  many  other  qualities,  unless  the 
qualities  be  regarded  as  isolated  from  one  another,  and 
yet  the  essential  nature  of  each  quality  is  different.  One 
must  likewise  conclude  in  reference  to  the  soul  that  one  26 
and  the  same  principle  (numerically  regarded)  perceives 
everything,  although  its  mode  of  expression  is  different, 
in  some  cases  generically  different,  and  in  others 
specifically  different.  Simultaneous  sensations,  therefore, 
are  experienced  in  one  and  the  same  principle  of  the 
soul,  but  not  in  one  and  the  same  relation  to  this 
principle. 

It  is  evident  that  every  sensible  object  has  a  certain 
magnitude,  and  that  it  is  impossible  to  perceive  what 
is  indivisible.  There  is  a  point  from  which  it  is  im-27 
possible  for  one  to  see,  viz.  a  point  of  infinite  removal, 
but  the  point  from  which  vision  is  possible  is  deter- 
minate. The  same  applies  to  the  odorous  and  audible 
and  to  such  sensations  as  are  not  tactual.  There  is  an 
extreme  point  of  remoteness  from  which  vision  is  no 
longer  possible,  and  a  point  of  nearness  at  which  vision 
begins.  This  point  must  be  indivisible,  and  what  is  28 
beyond  it  is  not  perceptible,  and  what  is  on  this  side 
of  it  must  be  perceptible.  If,  indeed,  an  indivisible 
thing  is  perceptible,  then  it  will  follow  when  one  places 
it  at  the  extreme  point  from  which  it  is  no  longer 
visible,  and  again  at  the  point  where  perception  begins, 
that  it  is  simultaneously  visible  and  invisible.  And  this 
is  impossible. 


194  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  sbnsd 

449^  We1  have  now  treated,  in  general  and  in  particular, 
the  subject  of  the  organs  and  objects  of  sensation.  In 
what  remains,  we  must  first  investigate  the  subject  of 
memory  and  of  memory's  process. 

1Bekker  in  the  editions  of  Berlin  (quarto)  and  of  Oxford  (octavo) 
transfers  this  paragraph  to  the  beginning  of  the  tractate  On  Memory. 
For  a  critical  examination  of  the  arrangement  of  the  text  vid. 
Freudenthal  in  Rhein.  Museum,  Vol.  24,  p.  393. 


ON   MEMORY  AND   RECOLLECTION.1 


CHAPTER  I 

In  regard  to  memory  and  its  process,  we  must  determine 
what  its  nature  is,  by  what  agency  it  is  produced,  and  to 
what  psychical  organ  the  phenomenon  of  memory,  as 
well    as   that    of    recollection,   is    to    be    ascribed.      For 

1  Aristotle  makes  the  following  distinction  between  memory  (fxvrj/xr]) 
and  recollection  (dvd/j.vr)cns) :  the  former  is  the  reproduction  of  a  past 
experience  accompanied  by  the  consciousness  that  the  experience  has  been 
previously  had ;  the  latter  is  the  deliberate  reproduction  of  the  same 
experience  and  is  based  on  reflection.  The  former  is  possessed  by  the 
lower  animals  and  the  latter  by  man  only.  Plato  had  already  made  a 
distinction  between  memory  and  recollection  (Phaedo,  73  B  ff., 
Philebus,  34  B).  The  passive  presence  of  residual  sensations  in  the  soul 
is  memory,  while  their  active  recall  to  consciousness  is  recollection.  In 
the  Meno  the  whole  of  knowledge  is  resolved  into  recollection  or 
reminiscence  (dvdfivvcns),  learning  being  only  the  stimulation  or  revival 
of  knowledge  congenitally  in  us.  In  a  note  which  Grote  meant  to  be 
added  (directions  to  this  effect  are  recorded  in  the  MS.)  to  Chap.  XX. 
of  his  Plato  and  the  Other  Companions  of  Sokrates,  he  says  :  "  The 
doctrine  of  Reminiscence  declared  and  illustrated  by  Sokrates  in  the 
Platonic  Menon  {irao-a  fiddvais  dv d^vncns)  bears  much  analogy  to  the 
Development-Hypothesis  espoused  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer ;  an  extension 
and  special  application  of  the  large  views  opened  by  Mr.  Darwin  respect- 
ing the  origin  of  species.     Each  individual  animal  is  assumed  to  begin 

195 


196  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  mem. 

the  same  persons  are  not  endowed  with  good  memory 
and  good  recollection,  but  as  a  rule  phlegmatic  natures 
remember   well,  while  the   quick    and  ready-witted   are 

2  apt  at  recollection. 

First  of  all  we  must  grasp  what  is  understood  by  the 
object  of  memory.  For  one  is  often  mistaken  about  this. 
The  future  cannot  be  the  object  of  memory ;  this  is 
rather  the  object  of  conjecture  and  expectation  (and  we 
might  even  have  a  science  of  expectation,  as  some 
describe  the  subject  of  prophecy).  Neither  can  the 
present  be  its  subject-matter,  for  our  senses  are  concerned 
with  this.  By  sensation  we  do  not  have  cognizance 
either   of    the   future   or   of  the   past,  but    only   of    the 

3  present.  Memory,  on  the  other  hand,  regards  the  past. 
No  person  would  say  that  he  remembers  the  present 
while 1  it  is  present,  e.g.  that  he  remembers  seeing  the 
white  object  while  he  sees  it ;  neither  does  one  remember 
the  object  of  contemplation,  so  long  as  the  act  of  con- 
templation and  thought  continues.  But  one  merely  says 
that  in  the  former  case  one  sees,  and,  in  the  latter,  one 
knows.  When,  however,  one  possesses  knowledge  or  sen- 
sation which  is  not  in  actuality,  then  one  remembers  that 
the  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles, 
because  one  has  learned  it  or  thought  it  out,  or,  on  the  other 

existence  with  a  large  stock  of  congenital  predispositions  and  aptitudes 
engrained  in  its  nervous  system  as  the  result  of  an  '  infinitude  of  past 
experiences ' — not  indeed  of  its  own  but  of  its  progenitors.  Hence  arise 
all  its  instincts,  and  many  of  its  mental  combinations  which  go  beyond 
instinct.  See  Mr.  Spencer's  Psychology,  pp.  577-583-619."  Extract 
from  the  mss.  of  "Grote's  Papers"  in  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford 
(ms.  add.  D.  85,  p.  37). 

1  Read  ore  for  on. 


chap.  i.  MEMORY    AND    TIME  197 

hand,  has  merely  heard  it  or  visually  observed  it,  or  found 
it  out  in  some  such  way.    For  when  memory  actually  takes 
place,  one  must  say  that  the  process  in  the  soul  is  such 
that  one  formerly  heard,  perceived,  or  thought  the  thing. 
Consequently,  memory  is  neither  sensation  nor  conceptual  4 
thought,  but  it  is  the  condition  or  modified  form  of  one 
of  these,  after  the  lapse  of  time.     There  is  no  memory  of 
the  present  in  the  present  moment,  as  we  have  said,  but 
there  is  perception   of  the   present,   expectation  of  the 
future,    and    memory    of     the    past.      Consequently,   all 
memory  is  associated  with  time.      Therefore,  only  those 
creatures   that   have   perception  of  time,  have   memory, 
and     memory    attaches     to     that     organ    whereby  time 
is   perceived.1     JSTow  we  have  already  discussed  imagin-  5 
ation  in  the  treatise   On   the   Soul 2  and    we   concluded 
there  that  thought  is  impossible  without  an  image.     For 
we   find  in   thought  the  same  conditions  as  in  drawing  450  a 
figures.     In  the  latter  without  needing  a  triangle   of  a 
definite  magnitude,  we   nevertheless  draw  a  triangle   of 
definite  size.      So,  too,  the  thinking  mind,  even  if  it  does 
not  think  a  magnitude,  still  places  a  quantitative  body 
before  its  eyes,  although  it  does  not  think  it  as  such.     If  6 
it  is  the  nature  of  the  quantitative  in  an  indefinite  sense 
with  which  the  mind  is  concerned,  then  thought  represents 
it  under  the  form  of  a  definite  quantity,  but  thinks  it 
merely  as  quantity.     The  reason  why  it  is  impossible  to 
think  anything  apart  from  continuity  (even  things  that 
are  not  subject  to  the  laws  of  time  cannot  be  thought 

xThe  organ  of  memory  aud  the  organ  whereby  we  perceive  time  is  the 
central  organ  or  heart  (451a  17). 

2Cf.  De  an.  421b  14  ff.  ;  434a  ff.;  431a  17. 


198  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

without  time *)  is  a  problem  that  belongs  elsewhere.2 
We  must  be  conscious  of  magnitude  and  motion  3  by  the 
same   faculty   whereby  we  are   conscious   of  time.     An 

7  image  is  a  product  of  sensation  in  general.  Evidently, 
therefore,  the  cognition  of  these  things  is  to  be  ascribed  to 
the  primary  power  of  sense.  Memory,  even  the  memory 
of  concepts,  does  not  take  place  without  an  image. 
Consequently,  memory  concerns  the  faculty  of  thought 
accidentally  and  the  primary  power  of  sense  intrinsically.4 
It  is,  therefore,  possessed  by  other  animals,  and  is  not 
peculiar    to   man    and   creatures   endowed  with   opinion 

8  and  thought.  If  it  were  a  property  belonging  to  the 
conceptual  powers,  it  would  not  be  found  in  many 
animals  outside  of  man,  perhaps  in  none  of  the  brutes, 
seeing  that  they  do  not,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  possess 
it  because  they  all  lack  the  sense  of  time.  For  in 
an  activity  of  memory,  as  we  remarked  before,  there  is 
always  the  additional  consciousness  that  one  has  seen  or 

9  heard  or  learned  this  in  time  past.  Prior  and  later  are 
properties  of  time.  In  reply  to  the  question  to  what  part 
of  the  soul  memory  is  to  be  ascribed,  it  is  plain  that  it 
belongs  to  the  same  part  as  imagination.      The  objects  of 

1  Aristotle  is  referring  probably  to  the  heavenly  bodies  and  their 
eternal  laws. 

2  Topics  of  this  kind  Aristotle  refers  to  the  First  Philosophy  or 
Metaphysics. 

3  Magnitude  and  motion  are  classified  by  Aristotle  amongst  the  '  com- 
mon sensibles '  and  as  such  they  are  perceived  by  the  '  common  sense ' 
whose  organ  is  the  heart. 

4  In  other  words  memory  is  a  revived  sense-experience  and  is  due  to 
the  direct  function  of  the  primary  organ  of  sense  (the  heart) ;  it  concerns 
the  faculty  of  thought  only  accidentally,  viz.  in  furnishing  it  with 
images  which  are  converted  into  concepts  that  are  essentially  different 
from  images. 


chap.  i.  MEMORY   IS   A   PICTURE  199 

memory,  intrinsically,  are  the  same  as  the  objects  of 
imagination ;  accidentally,  they  are  such  objects  as  are 
impossible  without  imagination.1 

The  question  might  be  asked :  How  in  the  world  is 
it  that  while  a  mental  impression  persists,  although  the 
thin^  itself  is  no  longer  at  hand,  one  remembers  what  is 
not  present  ?    Evidently  we  must  regard  this  phenomenon  10 
which  through  the  mediation  of  sensation  is  produced  in 
the  soul  and  in  that  part  of  the  body2  which  possesses 
sensation  (whose  persistence  we  call  memory),  as  similar 
to  a  painting.     For  an  active  stimulus  stamps  on  the  soul 
a  sort  of  imprint  of  the  sensation,  analogous  to  stamping 
with  a  seal-ring.      For  this  reason,  too,  persons  who  are  n 
deeply  moved   by  passion  or  by  the  ardour  of  youth  do  450  £ 
not  remember,  just   as  if  the    effort   and  the  seal  were 
applied  to  running  water.      In  other  persons,  because  of 
their  worn-out  condition,  like  old  buildings,  or  because 
of  the  hardness  of  their  receptive  principle,  no  impression 
is  made.     Consequently,  the  very  young  and  the  aged  have  12 
poor  memories.      For  the  former  are  in  a  fluent  condition 
owing  to  their  growth,  and  the  latter  are  unstable  owing 
to  their  decay.3     Likewise  the  excessively  quick  and  the 
excessively    slow    seem    to    have   poor    memories.      The 

1  When  the  objects  of  imagination  are  recognized  as  past  experiences 
or  copies  of  past  sensations  they  are  called  memories.  They  are,  there- 
fore, in  their  essential  nature  or  intrinsically  the  same  as  the  objects  of 
imagination.  Objects  of  memory  in  an  accidental  sense  are,  perhaps, 
such  elements  as  do  not  attach  to  the  image  as  such,  but  are  not  possible 
without  it,  e.g.  the  circumstance  that  Coriscus  (who  is  the  image  proper) 
was  a  native  of  Scepsis. 

2  Namely,  in  the  heart. 

3  It  is  this  passage  which  Reid  distorts  in  his  review  of  Aristotle's 
theory  of  memory.     Cf.  Works,  ed.  Hamilton,  p.  353. 


200  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

former    are   too  moist   and  the   latter  too   hard.      Con- 
sequently, the  image  does  not  last  in  the  souls  of  the 

[3  former,  and  in  the  latter  it  does  not  fasten.  If  such  is 
the  truth  regarding  memory,  the  question  arises  whether 
one  remembers  the  impression  or  the  thing  from  which 
the  impression  was  derived.  For  if  it  is  this  impression 
of  ours  which  is  the  object  of  memory,  then  we  do  not 
remember  what  is  absent.  On  the  other  hand,  if  it  is 
the  thing  that  we  remember,  how  does  it  come  that  while 
we  perceive  this  impression  we  remember  what  we  do  not 
perceive,  viz.  the  absent  thing?1  And  if  memory  is 
analogous  to  an  imprint  or  picture  within  us,  why  should 
the  perception  of  precisely  this  thing  be  the  memory  of 
something  else,  and  not  the  memory  of  just  this  picture  ? 

'4  For  it  is  this  impression  which  one  contemplates  and 
perceives  in  actual  memory.  In  what  sense  then  does 
one  remember  what  is  not  present  ?  It  would  then  be 
possible  to  see  and  to  hear  what  is  not  present.  Or  is 
there  a  sense  in  which  this  is  possible  and  in  which  it 

[5  actually  occurs  ?  For  example,  the  animal  in  a  picture 
is  both  animal  and  a  copy,  and  both  of  these  are  one  and 
the  same  thing ;  but  the  mode  of  existence  in  the  two 
instances  is  different,  and  it  is  possible  to  regard  this 
picture  both  in  the  sense  of  animal  and  in  the  sense  of 
image,  and  so  it  is  with  the  image  within  us :  we  must 
regard  it  both  as  something  in  itself  and  as  the  image  of 
something  else.      In  so  far  as  we  regard   it  in  its  own 


1  Aristotle  explains  further  down  (4506  30)  that  the  image  is  not  only 
a  thing  in  itself  which  we  have  actually  in  consciousness,  but  it  is  also 
representative  of  the  external  and  absent  thing,  which,  though  not  in 
consciousness,  is  thus  mediately  or  representatively  remembered. 


chap.  i.  MEMORY   AND   PHANTASM  201 

nature,  it  is  an  idea  or  a  mental  representation  ;  in  so  far 
as  we  regard  it  as  belonging  to  something  else,  it  is  a  copy  16 
or  a  memory.  When,  therefore,  an  actual  stimulation  of 
this  image  takes  place,  and  when  the  soul  perceives  it  in 
its  own  nature,  it  appears  to  come  to  expression  as  an  idea 
or  a  phantasm;  if  however  the  soul  regards  it  as  belonging 
to  something  else,  then,  as  in  the  case  of  a  painting,  the 
soul  contemplates  it  as  a  copy  and  as  the  picture  of 
Coriscus,  without  having  ever  seen  him.  The  points 
of  view  here  and  in  the  case  of  our  regarding  a  painted 
animal  merely  as  an  animal  are  different :  what  arises  in 
the  soul  in  the  latter  case  is  purely  a  thought  ;  in  the  45 1 
former  case,  because  the  object  is  there  regarded  as  an 
image,  it  appears  as  a  memory.  And,  consequently,  there  17 
are  times  when  we  do  not  know,  regarding  such  psychical 
processes  due  to  earlier  sensations,  whether  they  are 
produced  by  sense-experience,  and  we  are  in  doubt 
whether  they  are  a  memory  or  not.1  At  another  time  it 
happens  we  think  and  recall  that  we  have  heard  or 
known  the  thing  in  the  past.  This  takes  place  when  18 
after  contemplating  a  thing  in  its  own  nature,  one  shifts 
one's  position  and  regards  it  as  the  copy  of  another  thing. 
The  converse  of  this  also  happens,  as  is  shown  by  the 
case  of  Antipheron  of  Oreos  and  other  ecstatics.  For  they 
asserted  that   their  phantasms  were  real,  and   that  they 


xIt  is  often  difficult  to  decide  whether  certain  apparent  memories  are 
merely  fictions  of  imagination  or  actual  past  experiences,  because 
imagination  is  not  merely  reproductive  {alad-qTLKT})  but  productive 
{XoyiaTLKTj).  It  is,  however,  impossible  to  have  an  unconscious  memory. 
So  long  as  one  is  not  conscious  that  a  given  experience  or  image  has 
been  had  before,  the  thing  is  only  a  phantasm  {(pavraa^a)  and  not  a 
memory  {ixvr)i±bvevfxa).     Cf.  4526  26. 


202  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

remembered  the  things.  This  phenomenon  occurs  when 
[9  one  regards  as  a  copy  that  which  is  not  a  copy.  Exercise 
in  repeatedly  recalling  a  thing  strengthens  the  memory. 
This,  however,  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  frequent 
contemplation  of  a  thing  as  a  copy  and  not  as  an  object  in 
itself.  The  nature  of  memory  and  of  its  process  has  now 
been  explained  as  the  persistent  possession  of  an  image, 
in  the  sense  of  a  copy  of  the  thing  to  which  the  image 
refers,  and  it  has  been  further  explained  to  what  faculty 
in  us  this  belongs,  viz.  to  the  primary  power  of  sensation, 
and  to  that  organ  whereby  we  perceive  time. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

The  subject  of  recollection  remains  to  be  treated.  First 
of  all  we  must  take  as  presuppositions  the  truths  which 
were  established  in  the  treatise  On  Argumentation} 
Accordingly,  recollection  is  neither  the  recovery  nor  2 
acquirement  of  a  memory.  For  when  one  learns  or 
acquires  an  impression  for  the  first  time,  one  does  not 
recover  any  memory  (for  none  has  preceded),  nor  does 
one  acquire  an  initial  memory.  But  when  a  persistent 
mental  condition  and  impression  is  fixed  in  the  soul,  then 
we  have  memory.  Consequently,  memory  is  not  produced 
simultaneously  with  the  production  of  an  impression. 
Further,  in  the  indivisible  complete  moment  when  the  3 
impression  is  first  received,  the  impression  and  the  know- 
ledge are  recorded  in  the  affected  subject,  if  one  can  call 
this  mental  condition   and  impression,  knowledge,   (and 

1  Themistius  and  Michael  Ephesius  think  the  reference  is  to  the 
Probhmata.  Bonitz,  however,  considers  it  more  probable  that  Aris- 
totle is  referring  to  the  airopiai  discussed  in  Ch.  I.  of  the  present 
tractate.  Cf.  Index  to  Bekker's  Berlin  edition  sub.  voc.  'ApicrTOTeXrjs, 
99a  38.  If  the  latter  supposition  is  correct,  one  will  have  to  give  the 
words  X6701  iirixctprj/ACLTiKol  the  unusual  meaning  of  Initial  Treatise, 
which,  however,  they  might  perhaps  bear. 

203 


204  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

there  is  nothing  to  prevent  our  remembering,  in  the  sense 
of  accident,  a  certain  thing  which  we  know  conceptually). 
But  memory  as  such  is  not  possible  until  after  the  lapse  of 
time.  For  what  we  remember  now,  we  have  previously 
known  or  experienced,  but  what  we  experience  now   is 

4  not  in  the  present  moment  remembered.     Further,  it  is 
451  b  evidently  possible  to  have  in  memory  what  we  do  not 

now  recollect,  but  what  was  once  perceived  or  experienced. 
When  one  re-acquires  knowledge  or  sensation  (or  whatever 
the  mental  possession  be  to  which  we  apply  the  term 
memory),  ^it  is  then  that  one  recollects  one  of  the  afore- 

5  said  mental  possessions.  The  process  of  memory  takes 
place,  and  memory  ensues.  Neither  do  the  phenomena 
of  recollection,  if  their  occurrence  is  the  repetition  of  a 
previous  recollection,  follow  absolutely  the  same  order, 
but  sometimes  they  occur  in  one  way  and  sometimes  in 
another.1  It  is  possible  for  the  same  individual  to  learn 
and  discover  the  same  thing  twice.  Eecollection,  then, 
must  differ  from  learning  and  discovery,  and  there  is 
need  of  greater  initial  latitude  here  than  is  the  case  with 
learning.2 

6  Eecollection  is  effected,  when  one  suggestion  succeeds 
another  in  natural  order.  If  the  succession  is  a  necessary 
one,  it  is  plain  that  when  the  antecedent  suggestion  is 
given,  it  will  excite  the  succeeding  one.      If,  however,  the 

1  A  given  association  may  at  one  time  awaken  a  recollection  and  at 
another  time  fail  to  do  so  (cf.  452&  1  ff.). 

2  In  the  case  of  learning  and  discovery  there  is  a  definite  and  exact 
process  by  which  a  given  result  may  be  twice  arrived  at.  In  the  case 
of  recollection,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  not  the  same  fixity  of 
procedure.  There  are  not  only  many  forms  of  suggestion  and  associa- 
tion, but  a  given  suggestion  may  not  effect  the  same  result  in  two 
instances. 


chap.  ii.  ASSOCIATION    OF    IDEAS  205 

succession  is  not  a  necessary  one,  but  only  customary,  the 
recollection  will  be  stirred  generally.      But  it  is  a  fact  7 
that    some   persons   by   being    impressed   only  once   are 
trained  *  in  a  given  way  more  than  others  after  frequent 
impressions.     And  so  there  are  some  things  which  after 
we  have  seen  once,  we  remember  better  than  others  do 
who   have   seen   them   frequently.      When,  therefore,  we 
recollect,    we   awaken    certain   antecedent  processes   and 
continue  this  until  we  call  up  that  particular  experience, 
after  which  the  desired  one  is  wont  to  appear.      That  is  8 
the   reason   why  we   hunt   through   a   series   in   thought, 
beginning  with   an   object  presently  before   us,  or  with 
something   else,   or   with    an    object   that    is    similar,   or 
opposite,   or   contiguous.2       In    this   way,   recollection   is 
awakened.     For   mental   movements   in   these   instances 
are    identical    in    some    cases,    in    others     simultaneous 
with,  the   desired   experience,    and   in   other  cases  they 
involve    a    portion    of   it,    so    that    there    is     a     small 
remainder    whose    stimulation    ensues.       This    then,    is 
the  way  in  which  people  try  to  recollect,  and  without  9 
conscious    effort    they    recollect     in     this     way,    when 
the    desired   experience    is  recalled   as   the  sequence   of 
another   experience.      For  the   most  part,  however,   the 
desired  experience  is  recalled  only  after  several  different 
suggestions,  such  as  we  have  described,  have  preceded. 

14  Trained'  (idi<rd7)i>cu)  means  here  the  acquisition  of  a  fixed  habit 
{'idos)  or  disposition.  In  the  case  of  other  persons,  impressions  do  not 
produce  a  fixed  disposition,  but  are  evanescent.  Consequently  in  the 
latter,  a  suggestion  is  ineffective,  while  it  results  in  recollection  in 
those  persons  where  the  impression  has  become  a  fixity  or  'habit.' 

2  The  laws  of  association,  ordinarily  treated  as  contiguity  and 
similarity,  are  here  stated  by  Aristotle  as  similarity,  contrast,  and 
contiguity. 


206  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  mem. 

One  does  not  at  all  need  to  look  at  the  remote  and  ask 
how  we  remember  it,  but  at  what  lies  near  before  us. 
For  the  same  method  applies  to  both  cases, — I  mean  the 
method  of  sequences,1  without  any  prior  effort  to  find 
this    sequence   and    without    recalling    it.       For    mental 

10  movements  follow  one  another,  this  one  after  that, 
by  habituation.  When  a  person  wants  to  recall  a  thing, 
he  will  do  the  following :  he  will  try  to  gain  a  starting- 
point  in  the  process,  in  sequence  to  which  the  desired 
experience  was  had.  Consequently,  recollections  which 
are  awakened  from  the  starting-point  are  most  quickly 

452  a  and    best    effected.      For    just    as    things    are    mutually 
related   in   their   order    of    succession,   so    also    are    the 

11  mental  processes.  And  such  things  as  have  a  fixed 
order  are  easily  remembered,  as  e.g.  mathematical  truths. 
Other  things  are  remembered  poorly 2  and  with  difficulty. 
Eecollection  differs  from  re-learning  in  this,  that  there 
can  be  in  the  former  case  a  sort  of  self-movement  back 
to  that  which  follows  upon  the  original  experience. 
When  this  is  not  done,  but  the  recollection  is  prompted 

12  by  another  person,  then  it  is  no  longer  memory.  Often- 
times one  is  unable  to  recollect  a  thing,  but  after  searching 
succeeds  in  finding  it.  This  seeking  and  finding  is  what 
happens  when  one  awakens  a  number  of  experiences  and 
continues  to  do  so  until  one  sets  that  particular  experi- 
ence in  motion  upon  which  the  desired  thing  is  attendant. 
Memory  is  the  possession   of  an   experience  potentially 


1  This  series  of  sequences  is  compared  by  Themistius  to  a  chain,  in 
which  if  one  link  be  lifted  the  next  will  likewise  be  moved  and  so  on. 
Cf.  Sir  William  Hamilton's  note  in  Reid's  Works,  p.  894. 

2  Read  0ai/Aws  /ecu  for  cpavXa. 


chap.  ii.  ASSOCIATION   OF   IDEAS  207 

revivable.  This  process  is  effected,  as  was  said  above,  in 
such  way  that  it  comes  from  the  person's  own  effort  and 
from  the  movements  in  his  power.  One  must,  however,  13 
have  a  starting-point.  And  so  persons  appear  sometimes 
to  recall  things  from  local1  suggestions.  The  reason  is 
that  one  passes  rapidly  from  one  thing  to  another,  e.g.  - 
from  milk  to  the  suggested  idea  of  white,  from  white  to 
air,  from  air  to  the  moist,  and  from  this  one  recalls  the 
late  autumn,  which  is  the  season  one  was  trying  to  think 
of.  In  general,  it  is  the  middle,  too,  of  the  entire  series  14 
that  seems  to  be  the  starting-point  for  memory.  For 
when  a  person  does  not  remember  earlier,  then  he  does  so 
when  he  comes  to  the  middle  point,  or  when  he  does  not 
remember  here,  then  at  no  other  point  at  all,  as  is  the 
case  e.g.  when  one  passes  through  the  series  ABGDEFGH? 
If  one  does  not  remember  at  H,  one  remembers 
when  one  comes  to  E,  provided  one  is  in  quest  of  F  or  G. 
For  from  that  point  the  movement  of  suggestion  is 
possible  in  both  directions,  towards  the  point  D  as  well 
as  towards  the  point  F.3  If,  however,  a  person  is  not  in  15 
quest  of  one  of  these,  he  will  remember  on  reaching  C,  and 

1  There  is  no  reason  for  adopting  the  conjecture  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton  {droira  for  dwb  tottwv  452a  13),  which  Barthelemy-Saint-Hilaire 
(Commentary,  ad  loc.)  considers  necessary  and  which  Hamilton  charac- 
terises as  "absolutely  certain"  (Keid's  Works,  p.  905  note). 

2  Freudenthal  {Rhein.  Museum,  xxiv.  p.  410)  thinks  we  have  here  a 
defective  text,  because  in  a  series  of  eight  elements  there  is  no  middle 
term.  It  seems,  however,  hopeless  to  get  anything  satisfactory  out  of 
the  illustration  by  emendation  or  reconstruction. 

3  Vid.  Freudenthal's  explanation  in  the  Archiv  fur  Geschichte  der 
Philosophie  (vol.  ii.  p.  2)  and  Siebeck's  in  his  Unlersuchungen  zur 
Philos.  der  Griechen  (2te  Aufl.  p.  155).  Sir  William  Hamilton  simply 
distorts  the  text  beyond  recognition  in  order  to  obtain  an  intelligible 
translation,  and  even  then  achieves  but  a  meagre  success  in  his  aim. 


208  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

if  not  then,  he  will  remember  on  reaching  A,  and  this  is 
the  case  always.  But  from  the  same  point  of  suggestion 
one  sometimes  remembers  and  sometimes  does  not,  the 
reason  for  which  lies  in  the  possibility  of  movement  in 
more  than  one  direction  from  the  initial  point,  e.g.  from  E 

16  to  F  or  from  E  to  D.  If  the  movement  is  influenced  by 
an  old  suggestion,  it  takes  place  in  the  direction  of  the 
more  fixed  habit.1  For  habit  is  second  nature.  Conse- 
quently, we  remember  easily  what  we  often  ponder.  For 
as  one  definite  thin^   succeeds   another  in  nature,  so  it 

17  is  also  in  our  activity.  Frequent  repetition  produces 
nature.     Since  we  find  in  the  realm  of  nature  occurrences 

452  £  that  violate  her  laws  and  are  clue  to  chance,  much  more 
do  we  find  this  in  the  realm  of  custom,  to  which  the 
term  nature  cannot  be  applied  in  the  same  sense.  The 
consequence  is  that  a  movement  here  sometimes  takes 
place  in  one  direction  and  sometimes  in  another,  especially 
when  the  mind  is  distracted  from  a  particular  point  to 

18  something  else.  Therefore,  when  one  has  to  remember  a 
name,  and  remembers  one  like  it,  one  commits  a  solecism 
in  regard  to  it.  This  then  is  the  way  in  which  recollec- 
tion takes  place.2 

The   most   important   thing   here   is  the   necessity   of 
appreciating  time,  whether  in  a  determinate  or  an   in- 

19  determinate  form.  There  must  be  some  power  whereby 
we  distinguish  a  longer  from  a  shorter  interval.  It  is 
natural  that  the  same  conditions  which  apply  to  magni- 
tudes, apply  here  also.  For  we  think  what  is  large  and 
what  is  remote  in  space,  not  because  thought  extends  to 

1  Vid.  Sully,  The  Human  Mind,  Vol.  I.  p.  201. 

2  Namely,  through  the  association  of  ideas. 


CHAP.  II. 


PROCESSES    OF    MEMORY 


209 


the  given  point,  as  some  say 1  in  their  explanation  of 
vision  (for  we  can  think  the  non-existent  as  well  as  the 
existent),  but  because  of  an  analogous  process  in  the 
mind.  For  the  figures  and  processes  that  correspond  to 
things  are  in  the  mind  itself.  What  difference  will  it  20 
make,  then,  whether  one  thinks  what  is  larger,  or  the  other 
class  of  things  that  are  smaller  ?  For  all  the  internal 
elements  are  smaller,  and  the  external  have,  as  it  were,  a 
proportional  magnitude  to  them.  It  is  perhaps  in  the 
case  of  distances  in  space  just  as  it  is  with  figures,  one 
has  to  assume  the  possession  of  another  analogous  figure 
in  the  mind  itself.  So,  e.g.  if  one  draws  the  lines  AB  and  21 
BE,  one  produces  CD,  for  AC  and  CD  are  proportional. 
Why  does  this  produce  the  line  CD  rather  than  FG  ? 
Or  is  this  due  to  the  fact  that  as  AF  is  to  AB,  so  H  is  to 
if?  For  these  lines  are  drawn  at  the  same  time.  And 
if  one  wants  to  think  the  line  FG,  one  thinks  similarly 
the  line  BE,  and  instead  of  HI  one  thinks  KL.  For 
these  are  related  to  each  other  as  FA  to  BA.2 


1  Empedocles. 

2  Freudenthal  [Rheiii.  Museum,  Vol. 
24,  p.  416)  attempts  to  elucidate  this 
hopelessly  difficult  passage  by  the 
figure : 

In  this  figure  Freudenthal  makes  AB, 
BE  represent  sense-impressions ;  AF, 
FG  external  objects  ;  AC,  CD,  notions 
or  concepts ;  MH,  HI,  time  objectively 
regarded  ;  MK,  KL,  time  subjectively 
regarded.  Consequently,  so  he  goes  on 
.  .       AB    AC    AF  .,    . 

to  explain:    "d^t  =  777^  —  7^  means  tnat 

presentations    of    sense    or    images    of 
(pavraaia  are  related  to  each  other  as  the 

0 


F 
B 

G      / 

A  / 

/  / 

C 

— /D    / 

; 

\  / 

M 


210  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

22  When  the  suggestion  of  the  thing  and  the  suggestion  of 
time  coincide,  we  have  actual  memory.  When,  however,  one 
believes  one  does  this  without  really  doing  it,  one  only 
believes  that  one  remembers.  For  there  is  nothing  to 
prevent  one's  being  deceived  and  fancying  that  one 
remembers  without  this  being  actually  the  case.  In 
actually  remembering  it  is  impossible  that  one  should 
not  believe  one  is  remembering,  but  should  be  uncon- 
3  scious  of  it.  For  this  is  just  what  constitutes  memory. 
If,  however,  the  suggestion  of  the  thing  and  the  sug- 
gestion of  time  are  separated  from  each  other,  then  no 
memory  is  awakened.  The  suggestion  of  time  has  a  two- 
fold meaning.  Sometimes  a  thing  is  not  remembered 
in  determinate  time,  e.g.  that  day  before  yesterday  one 
453  a  did  something  or  other  ;  in  other  instances  one  remembers 
in  terms  of  time-measure.  Memory,  however,  takes 
place  even  if  one  does  not  remember  in  the  latter  way. 

24  People  are  wont  to  say  that  they  remember,  although  they 
do  not  know  just  when  a  thing  happened,  in  cases  where 
they  are  ignorant  of  the  determinate  measure  of  the 
When. 

We  have  already  said  that  the  same  individuals  are 
not  endowed  with  good   memory  and  good   recollection. 

25  Eecollection  differs  from  memory  not  merely  in  the  time- 
element,  but  also  because  many  animals  share  the  endow- 
ment of  memory,  while  none  of  the  known  animals,  one 


AH     A  ~F 
corresponding  notions.      ~op=  pTjf  signifies  that  presentations  of  sense 

are  related  to  each  other  and  the  corresponding  external  objects  are  re- 

A  W     TT        FC     HI 

lated  to  each  other.      -^5=^7  or  -dw=-fft  signifies  that  external  objects 

are  related  to  their  sense-impressions  as  objective  time  to  subjective 
time. 


chap.  ii.  RECOLLECTION  211 

may  say,  excepting  man,  is  endowed  with  recollection. 
The  reason  for  this  is  that  recollection  is  a  sort  of  syllo-  26 
gistic  process.  In  recollection  one  reasons  that  one  has 
known  or  heard  or  had  some  such  experience  of  the  thing 
in  question,  and  the  process  is  a  sort  of  inquiry.1  And 
this  is  naturally  found  only  in  those  creatures  which 
have  the  power  of  deliberation,  and  deliberation  is  a  kind 
of  syllogistic  procedure. 

That  this  condition  affects  the  body,  and  that  recollec-  27 
tion  is  the  search  for  an  image  in  a  corporeal  organ,2  is 
proved  by  the  fact  that  many  persons  are  made  very 
restless  when  they  cannot  recall  a  thing,  and  when  quite 
inhibiting3  their  thought,  and  no  longer  trying  to  remem- 
ber, they  do  recollect  nevertheless,  as  is  especially  true  of 
the  melancholic.  For  such  persons  are  most  moved  by 
images.  The  reason  why  recollection  does  not  lie  within  28 
our  power  is  this :  just  as  a  person  who  has  thrown  an 
object  can  no  longer  bring  it  to  rest,  so  too  one  who  recol- 
lects and  goes  in  search  of  a  thing,  sets  a  corporeal  some- 
thing in  motion,  in  which  the  desired  experience  resides. 
Especially  disturbed  are  such  persons  as  have  moisture  29 
about  the  region  of  sensation  ;  for  they  do  not  easily  come 
to  rest  after  being  stirred  into  motion,  until  they  attain 
the  thing  sought  for,  or  the  movement  has  taken  its 
proper  course.     Consequently,  the  feelings  of  anger  and 

1  In  intentional  recollection  one  employs  the  laws  of  association 
deliberately  and  through  reflection  ;  in  spontaneous  recollection  the 
same  laws  apply,  but  are  not  deliberately  employed. 

2  In  recollection  the  organic  process  is  from  within  to  the  organs  of 
sense,  while  in  sensation  the  process  is  from  the  periphery  to  the  centre 
(De  an.  4086  17). 

3  Read,  ical  irdvv  eTrtx0VTa$>  453a  17. 


212  aristotle's  psychology  demem. 

fear,  when  they  once    set  up  a  movement,  do  not  cease 
although  opposing  movements   are  started  against  them, 

30  but  on  the  contrary  persist  towards  their  own  aim. 
This  affection  resembles  names,  melodies,  and  words,  when 
these   are    given   violent    utterance.     For   after  one  has 

31  ceased,  the  singing  or  speaking  recurs  involuntarily. 
Further,  those  whose  upper  body  is  too  large,  and  also 

453  b  dwarfish  persons,  have  less  power  of  recollection  than  those 
of  the  opposite  physical  structure,  because  the  former  are 
too  heavy  about  the  organs  of  sensation,  and  because  the 
initial  movements  cannot  persist  but  are  destroyed,  and 
direct   movement  in    the   process   of  recollection  cannot 

32  readily  take  place.  Also  the  exceedingly  young  and  the 
very  old  do  not  recollect  well  on  account  of  their  move- 
ment ;  for  the  latter  are  in  decline,  and  the  former  in 
rapid  growth.  Furthermore,  children  are  like  dwarfs 
until  they  advance  in  age. 

We  have  now  treated  the  subject  of  memory  and  its 
process,  its  nature  and  the  psychical  organ  whereby 
animals  remember ;  also  the  subject  of  recollection,  in  its 
nature,  its  forms,  and  its  causes. 


ON    SLEEPING  AND  WAKING. 


CHAPTEE    I. 

We  must  now  consider  the  subject  of  sleeping  and 
waking,  and  ask  what  they  are  and  whether  they  are 
phenomena  peculiar  to  the  soul  or  common  to  the  body 1 
and  the  soul,  and  if  they  are  common,  we  must  further 
inquire  to  what  particular  organs  of  the  soul  and  body 
they  belong.  Further,  we  must  inquire  to  what  cause  this 
animal  function  is  due  and  whether  all  animals  share  in 
both  sleeping  and  waking.  Or  are  certain  animals  endowed 
with  the  one,  and  others  exclusively  with  the  other,  or 
are  there  creatures  that  are  endowed  with  neither  of 
them,  and  others  with  both  ?  In  addition  to  this  we  must 
investigate  the  nature  of  dreams  and  explain  why  persons 
sometimes  dream2  in  sleep  and  at  other  times  do  not. 
Or  shall  we  say  that  dreaming  always  occurs  in  sleep, 

1  Aristotle  had  himself  stated  the  mixed  physiological  and  psychological 
character  of  these  opuscules  in  referring  to  their  subject  matter  as  koivcl 
tt)s  \pvxys  nai  cwjuaros  (436a  7).     See  also  note,  1,  p.  145. 

2  The  subject  of  Dreams  and  Prophecy  by  Dreams  is  specially  treated 
in  separate  opuscules.      Vid.  pp.  231  ff.,  247  ff. 

213 


214  aristotle's  psychology  de  somno 

but  we  do  not  remember  our  dreams  ?  If  this  is  true, 
what  is  the  explanation  ?  A  further  question  is  whether 
or  not  it  is  possible  to  foresee  future  events,  and  if  it  is 
possible,  in  what  sense  are  they  foreseen  ?  Further,  is  it 
possible  to  foresee  only  such  future  events  as  are  per- 
formed by  man  or  also  such  as  are  caused  by  divine 
power,  and  does  this  foresight  apply  to  what  takes  place 
in   the  course  of  nature   or  to  the  results  of  accident  ? 

2  First  of  all  it  is  evident  that  both  sleeping  and  waking 
are  to  be  ascribed  to  the  same  organ,  for  they  are  contrary 
functions,  and  sleep  is  clearly  the  negative  of  waking. 
Now  contraries,  whether  in  the  realm  of  nature  or  else- 
where, are  always  expressed  in  one  and  the  same  organ 
capable  of  receiving  them  and  are  affections  of  the  same 
thing,  I  mean  e.g.  health  and  disease,  beauty  and  ugliness, 
strength  and  weakness,  sight  and  blindness,  hearing  and 

454  a  deafness.      This  is  further  evident  from  the  following :  it 

3  is  by  the  same  sign  that  we  recognise  a  person  awake 
and  one  asleep.  For  when  a  person  has  sensation  we 
regard  him  as  awake  and  we  believe  that  every  waking 
person  has  sensation   to  a  certain   extent   either   of  the 

4  external  world  or  of  internal  processes.  If,  then,  waking 
consists  in  nothing  else  than  in  having  sensation,  it  is 
evident  that  by  virtue  of  that  organ  wherewith  one  has 
sensation,    waking    creatures    are    awake     and     sleeping 

5  creatures  are  asleep.  But  since  sensation  is  not  the 
function  exclusively  either  of  the  soul  or  the  body  (for 
where  there  is  potentiality  there  is  also  a  corresponding 
actuality;  but  what  we  understand  by  sensation  in  its  actual 
sense,  is  a  psychical  process  mediated  by  the  body),  it  is 
plain  that  this  phenomenon  does  not  belong  exclusively 


chap.  i.  SLEEP   AND    SENSATION  215 

to  the  soul,  and  on  the  other  hand  it  is  impossible  for  an 
inanimate    body   to   experience    sensation.1       In    earlier  6 
treatises2  we  have  analysed  the  parts  of  the  soul  as  we 
call  them,  and  explained  that  the  nutritive  part  is  different 
from  the  other  powers   in   animate   bodies,  although  no 
other  power  can  exist  independently  of  it.     From  this  it 
is  evident  that  such  living  creatures  as  are  endowed  only 
with   the  functions   of  growth   and  decay,    do    not    ex- 
perience  sleeping  or  waking,  as    e.g.   plants.     For    they 
have  no  organ  of  sensation,  whether  separated  from   or 
conjoined  with  the  organ  of  nutrition ; — in  potentiality 
and  mode  of  expression  these  two  organs  are  separable 
from  one  another.      It  is  likewise  true  that  there  is  no  7 
creature  that  continuously  wakes  or  continuously  sleeps, 
but  both  these  conditions  are  found  in  the  same  animals. 
If  an  animal  has  sensation,  it  is  impossible  that  it  should 
not  sleep  and  wake.      Both  these  phenomena  refer  to  the 
experience  of  the   primary    organ    of  sensation.3     It    is 
impossible    that    either    of    these    conditions    should    be  8 
continuously  found  in  the   same  creature,  e.g.  that  any 
species  of  animal  should  sleep  or  wake  constantly,  because 
whenever   we  find   a   natural   function,   as  soon   as   the 
time  is  exceeded  during  which  the  function  is  capable  of 
being  exercised,  the  organ  necessarily  becomes  impotent, 
just  as  the  eye  by  exercising  vision  becomes  unable  to 

1  'Aiadavo/xcu  signifies  consciousness  as  well  as  the  physiological 
process  of  sensation. 

2  Cf.  De  an.  415a  23  ff. ;  432a  23  ff.  ;  434a  22  ff. 

3  Namely,  the  heart.  Plants  have  no  central  organ  (De  an.  4116  19), 
which  is  necessary  to  sensation,  and  without  the  latter  they  cannot  be 
said  to  sleep  or  wake,  sleeping  and  waking  being  respectively  the 
activity  and  quiescence  of  sensation. 


216  aristotle's  psychology  dbsomwo 

perform  this  function.  The  same  thing  applies  to  the 
9  hand,  and  to  every  other  functioning  organ.  Now,  if 
there  is  an  organ  to  which  the  function  of  sensation 
belongs  and  the  time  is  exceeded  during  which  con- 
tinuous sensation  is  possible,  then  the  organ  will  become 

io  powerless  and  no  longer  perform  its  function.  If,  there- 
fore, waking  is  defined  in  terms  of  this  condition,  viz.  as 
the  release  of  sensation  from  a  state  of  impotency,  and 
454^  if  of  two  contraries  one  must  always  be  present  and  the 
other  absent,  and  if  waking  is  the  contrary  of  sleeping, 
(and,  consequently,  one  of  the  two  must  in  every  case  be 
present),  then  sleep  would  be  necessary.      Consequently,  if 

ii  this  is  the  nature  of  sleep,  and  it  consists  in  a  loss  of 
power  through  excess  of  waking,  and  excessive  waking  is 
sometimes  pathological  and  sometimes  normal  (so  that 
the  incapacity  and  its  recovery  would  also  have  the 
character  of  the  pathological  and  normal),  it  follows  that 
every  waking  creature  must  also  sleep.  For  continuous 
activity  is  impossible.      So,  too,  there  is  no  creature  that 

12  can  sleep  continuously.  For  sleep  is  a  condition  of  the 
sense-orsran  which  is  like  being?  fettered  and  held  im- 
mobile.  Every  sleeping  thing,  therefore,  must  have  a 
sense-organ.  By  sense-organ  we  mean  that  which  has 
the  capacity  of  actual  sensation.  But  to  have  actual 
sensation  in  its  proper  and  strict  sense  and  to  sleep  at 
the  same  time  is  impossible.1  All  sleep,  then,  must  be 
a  condition  from  which  waking  is  possible.     Almost  all 

13  animals,  whether  their  natural  abode  is  the  water,  air,  or 

1"0n  the  whole,  the  quarrel  between  Descartes  and  Locke  as  to 
whether  the  mind  ever  sleeps  is  less  near  to  solution  than  ever." 
James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.  p.  213. 


chap.  i.  SLEEP   AND   NUTRITION  217 

land,  evidently  have  the  power  of  sleep.  For  we  see  all 
varieties  of  fishes  and  molluscs  sleeping  and  every  other 
variety  that  has  eyes.  Also,  the  hard-eyed  animals  and 
the  insects  evidently  sleep.  The  sleep,  however,  of  all 
such  animals  is  brief.  And  consequently  an  observer 
may  not  notice  whether  or  not  they  share  in  sleep.  14 
In  the  observation  of  crustaceans  it  has  so  far  not 
been  clearly  established  whether  they  sleep  or  not. 
If,  however,  the  foregoing  reasoning  is  convincing,  then 
one  will  believe  that  sleep  occurs  in  this  class.  That 
all  animals,  therefore,  share  in  sleep  is  proven  from 
the  foregoing.  For  the  definition  of  animal  is  given 
in  terms  of  the  possession  of  sensation.  And  we 
define  sleep  as  in  a  certain  sense  the  immobility 
and  fettering,  as  it  were,  of  sensation ;  waking  as  the 
delivery  and  release  from  such  condition.  No  plant  can  15 
participate  in  either  of  these  conditions.  For  without 
sensation  neither  sleeping  nor  waking  occurs.  Creatures 
that  are  endowed  with  sensation  feel  pleasure  and  pain. 
And  when  these  are  felt,  desire  is  also  felt.  None  of 
these  phenomena,  however,  is  found  in  plants.  A  proof 
of  this  is  that  the  nutritive  part  performs  its  own 
function  better  during  sleep  than  in  a  waking  state.1  4S5a 
For  at  this  time  nourishment  and  growth  are  more  rapid, 
which  shows  that  for  these  purposes  there  is  no  need  of 
the  additional  power  of  sensation. 

1  It  is  a  generally  accepted  fact  that  nutrition  is  heightened  during 
sleep,  which  is  perhaps  due  to  the  fact  that  digestion  during  sleep  is 
more  regular,  being  free  from  mental  work  or  disturbance.  Amongst 
the  lower  animals  it  is  usual  to  sleep  after  eating.  Cf.  Spitta,  Die 
Schlaf-  und  Traumzustande,  p.  19;  Combe,  Physiology  of  Digestion,  10th 
ed.  p.  112. 


CHAPTER    II. 

We    must    now   inquire   why    it    is    that   sleeping    and 
waking  occur,  and  to  what  sense,  or  senses,  if  there  are 

2  several,  they  are  due.  Since  some  animals  have  all 
the  senses  and  others  not,  e.g.  some  do  not  have  sight, 
whereas  touch  and  taste  are  universal  excepting  in  cases  of 
abnormal  creatures  (and  mention  has  made  of  these  in 
the  treatise  On  the  Soul1),  and  further,  since  it  is 
impossible  for  an  animal  in  sleep  to  experience  any 
sensation  whatever,  it  is  clear  that  we  shall  necessarily 
find  this  condition  in  all  the  senses  during  what  we  call 
sleep.  For  if  an  animal  were  to  sleep  in  one  part  and  not 
in  another,  then  it  would  have  sensation  in  sleep,  which 

3  is  impossible.  Now,  in  every  sense  there  is  a  power 
which  is  peculiar  to  it  and  another  power  which  it  has  in 
common  with  others,  e.g.  vision  is  peculiar  to  the  eye, 
audition  to  the  ear,  and,  similarly,  peculiar  powers  belong 
to  the  other  senses.  But  there  is  also  a  kind  of 
common  power  that  is  associated  with  all  the  particular 
senses,   by  virtue   of  which   one   is   conscious   that   one 

1  De  an.  425a  10  ;  4326  23  ;  4336  31. 
218 


chap.  ii.  THE   CENTRAL   SENSE  219 

sees  and  hears.  For  by  means  of  sight  one  does  not 
perceive  that  one  sees,  and  one  discriminates  and  has  4 
the  power  of  discrimination  between  sweet  and  white, 
not  by  virtue  of  taste  or  sight,  nor  by  means  of  the 
two  combined,  but  by  means  of  a  certain  power  which 
is  common  to  all  the  sense-organs.  For  sensation  is 
unitary  and  the  master-organ  of  sensation  is  unitary, 
although  there  is  an  essentially  different  character  that 
belongs  to  each  category  of  sensation,  e.g.  to  sound  and 
colour.  This  common  element1  is  allied  more  nearly  to  5 
the  tactual  than  to  any  other  sense.  For  the  tactual  can 
exist  apart  from  all  the  other  sense-organs,  but  the  others 
cannot  exist  apart  from  it.  This,  however,  was  discussed 
in  the  studies  On  the  Sotd.2  Sleeping  and  waking,  then, 
are  evidently  an  affection  of  this  common  sense,  and  are 
consequently  found  in  all  animals.  For  touch  is  the  6 
only  universal  sense.  Now,  if  sleep  consisted  in  the  fact 
that  all  the  senses  undergo  something,  then  it  is  remark- 
able that  in  cases  where  it  is  not  necessary,  or  in  a  certain 
sense  not  possible,  for  them  to  be  simultaneously  active, 
yet  these  same  senses  should  become  simultaneously  in- 
active and  immobile.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  more 
plausible  to  suppose  that  they  are  not  at  rest  simul- 
taneously. But  the  explanation  that  we  have  given  of  7 
these  phenomena  is  a  rational  one.  For  when  the  master- 
organ  that  rules  over  all  the  others  and  to  which  all  the 

1  The  function  of  consciousness  is  ascribed  to  the  central  or  common 
sense,  whose  organ,  in  common  with  that  of  touch,  is  the  heart  (De  sensu 
4386  30,  469«  12).  The  following  sentence,  in  the  text,  does  not  mean 
that  the  common  sense  can  exist  apart  from  the  special  senses,  but 
that  both  touch  and  the  common  sense  are  necessary  to  the  others. 

2  De  an.  4136  32  ff.  ;  4346  23.     Vid.  also  Dejuvent.  4676  28  ff. 


220  aristotle's  psychology  de  somno 

4553  others  are  directed,  is  affected,  all  the  subordinate  organs 
are  necessarily  affected  with  it ;  on  the  other  hand,  when 
one  of  the  latter  is  disabled  it  is  not  necessary  that  the 

8  master-organ  should  be  disabled  also.  But  it  is  evident 
from  many  considerations  that  sleep  does  not  consist  in 
the  inactivity  and  non-use  of  these  special  senses,  nor  in 
their  incapacity  to  experience  sensation.  For  this  is  just 
the  sort  of  thing  that  happens  in  swooning :  swooning  is 
the  exhaustion  of  the  senses.  And  there  are  also  certain 
other  kinds  of  mental  disturbances  that  resemble  this. 
Also,    by     compressing     the     jugular     vein,    one     loses 

9  sensation.  But  whenever  there  is  a  loss  of  the  use  of 
sensation,  it  does  not  find  its  explanation  in  any  chance 
sense  nor  is  it  attributable  to  any  haphazard  cause,  but 
the  explanation  is  found,  as  we  just  now  said,  in  the 
primary  organ  of  all  sensation.  For  when  this  is 
disabled,  all  the  other  sense-organs  are  also  necessarily 
unable  to  have  sensations.  When,  however,  one  of 
these  latter  loses  the  power  to  act,  the  common  sense 
is   not  necessarily  disabled. 

We  must  inquire  to  what  cause  sleep  is  due,  and  what 

10  sort  of  an  affection  it  is.      Now  there  are  several  kinds 

of  cause 1    (for    we    speak  of  cause  in  the  sense  of  the 

1  Aristotle  views  the  world  under  the  aspect  of  processes  dominated 
by  two  causal  principles — form  and  matter.  He  conceives  of  the  latter 
as  potentiality,  which  in  a  world  of  movement  passes  over  into  a 
condition  of  actuality.  Actuality  is  synonymous  with  form.  In 
organic  processes  these  two  things  are  separable  only  in  abstraction. 
Form  represents  the  completed  condition  towards  which  matter  strives. 
Form  is  therefore  the  end,  or  otherwise  expressed,  the  final  cause. 
Further,  as  the  completed  notion  of  a  thing,  or  that  which  a  thing 
really  and  finally  is,  it  is  the  essential  or  notional  cause.  The  defi- 
nition of  a  thing  is  its  notional  cause.  Cause  {atria)  is  here,  of  course, 
employed  in  a  sense   foreign  to   English  usage.     There  is  no  idea  of 


chap.  ii.  FORM    AND    MATTER  221 

end  or  purpose;  again  as  the  principle  of  motion,  as 
the  material  condition,  and  as  the  notion  or  form).  First 
of  all,  then,  when  we  say  that  nature  acts  with  a 
purpose,  we  mean  that  this  purpose  is  some  good,  that 
rest  is  provided  for  every  creature  whose  nature  it  is 
to  move,  and  that,  being  incapable  of  constant  and  con- 
tinuous pleasurable  movement,  this  rest  is  a  necessary  n 
and  useful  thing  (and  the  metaphorical  term  'rest'  is  with 
perfect  accuracy  applied  to  sleep  as  repose).  Conse- 
quently, sleep  exists  for  the  preservation  of  animals,  and 
the  waking  state  is  its  final  cause  and  purpose.  For  12 
sensation  and  thought  are  the  final  purpose  of  all 
animals  that  possess  either  of  these  powers.  These  are 
their  highest  activities,  and  the  highest  is  the  end. 
Sleep,  therefore,  is  a  necessity  for  every  animal.  I 
mean  here  a  hypothetical  necessity,  viz.  that  if  an  13 
animal  is  to  preserve  its  nature,  it  must  necessarily  be 
provided  with  certain  things,  and  where  these  things 
are  found,  other  things  are  involved.  We  must  next 
ask  to  what  sort  of  bodily  process  and  activity  waking 

agency  in  it,  as  there  is  in  all  English  meanings  of  cause.  It  signifies, 
rather,  '  principle. '  Further,  form  represents  the  inner  Trieb  or  force 
in  matter  whereby  it  is  in  constant  transition  towards  the  realisation 
of  its  end.  In  this  sense  form  is  the  efficient  or  moving  cause.  We 
have  then  form  used  in  the  various  senses  of  (1)  final  principle,  (2) 
notional  principle  (i.e.  the  notion  or  significance  of  a  thing),  and  (3)  the 
efficient  principle.  The  first  and  third  are  conceived  of  as  forces  or 
causal  agents,  while  the  second  is  cause  in  the  sense  of  being  the  source 
from  which  these  forces  issue.  The  two  ultimate  principles,  then, 
which  Aristotle  employs  for  the  explanation  of  all  reality  and  all  de- 
velopments are  : 

1.  Form  (the  essential  thing).         2.  Matter  (material  condition). 

(a)  End  or  final  cause. 

(b)  Motion  or  efficient  cause. 


222  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  somno 

and  sleeping  are  due.  We  must  assume  that  the  causes 
of  sleeping  and  waking  are  the  same  or  analogous 
in  bloodless  and  sanguineous  animals,  and  in  the  lower 
sanguineous  animals  and  men.  So  that  what  we  observe 
in  the  case  of  man,  we  shall  have  to  apply  to  them  all. 

14  It  has  been  already  determined  in  other  treatises  that 
456  a  the  origin  of  sensation  is  found  in  the  same  organ  from 

which  motion  originates.  This  organ  is  found  in  the 
middle  division1  of  the  three  topical  sections  of  the 
body,  and  lies  between  the  head  and  lower  body.  In 
sanguineous  animals  it  is  the  pericardiac  section,  for 
all  sanguineous    animals   have  a  heart,  and  this  is  the 

15  primary  source  of  motion,  and  of  the  higher  sensation.2 
Evidently  the  origin  of  movement  and  of  breathing, 
and  in  general  of  refrigeration,  is  found  in  this  section, 
and  it  is  also  evident  that  nature  created  the  organs  of 
respiration  and  of  refrigeration,  which  latter  is  effected  by 
means  of  moisture,  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  the 
warmth    in  this  part.3      But   this    subject    will    receive 

16  separate  treatment  later.4  On  the  other  hand,  in  the 
bloodless  animals,  the  insects,  and  such  animals  as 
are  incapable  of  breathing  air,  there  is  found  in  an 
organ  corresponding  to  the  lungs  congenital  air  which 
rises  and  falls.  This  is  evidently  true  in  the  case  of 
insects     with     undivided     wings,    such     as    wasps     and 

1  Thorax. 

2 The  "higher  sensation"  appears  to  mean  sense-perception  or  the 
apprehension  of  the  'common  sensibles.'  Cf.  Introduction  (chap,  iv.) 
on   the  nature  and  function  of  the  'common  sense.' 

3  That  is,  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  normal  animal  heat,  and 
for  guarding  against  its  excess. 

4  Vid.  the  tractate  On  Respiration. 


chap.  ii.  MOVEMENTS   IN    SLEEP  223 

bees,  also  in  flies  and  similar  insects.  But  since  it  17 
is  impossible  to  originate  motion  without  power,  the 
retention  of  the  breath  generates  power — breath  derived 
from  without  in  the  case  of  respiring  creatures,  and  con- 
genital breath  in  the  case  of  non-respiring  animals  (this 
is  the  reason  why,  as  we  see,  winged  insects  buzz  when 
in  motion,  the  sound  being  caused  by  the  friction  of  the 
air  striking  on  the  diaphragm  of  these  holoptera).  Every  18 
creature  experiences  movement  whenever  a  sensation, 
whether  its  own  or  caused  from  without,  is  awakened  in 
the  primary  organ  of  sensation.1  Now,  if  sleeping  and 
waking  are  affections  of  this  organ,  it  is  clear  in  what 
region  and  in  what  ultimate  organ,  sleeping  and  waking 
have  their  origin.  There  are  persons  who  are  subject  19 
to  movements  in  sleep,  and  do  many  acts  that  belong  to 
the  waking  state,  and  nevertheless  without  any  image 
or  sensation.  For  the  dream  is  in  a  certain  way  a 
sense-perception.  About  this  we  must  speak  later. 
Why  it  is  that  we  remember  our  dreams  on  waking, 
while  we  do  not  remember  acts  done  in  a  waking  state, 
has  been  explained  in  the  Problems.2 

1  Motion  {kLv7)vis)  is  employed  by  Aristotle  in  several  senses.  He  not 
only  constantly  speaks  of  intellectual  processes  as  motions,  but  refers  to 
movement  in  space  as  motion.  The  generic  term  is  Kbrjais,  which  has 
the  following  varieties  {Metaph.  10696  9  ;  De  an.  406a  12,  4326  9) :  (1) 
Quantitative  motion,  or  motion  in  reference  to  magnitude  {Kara  /meyedos), 
which  signifies  increase  and  decrease  (averts  ko.1  (pdiais) ;  (2)  Qualita- 
tive motion  (/card  to  ttolov),  or  transformation  (aXkoiuais) ;  (3)  Spatial 
motion  or  locomotion  (/caret  to  ttov,  called  <pop&) ;  (4)  Substantial  change 
{fxeTa^oXr)  /car'  overlay),  or  birth  and  destruction  (yeveais  /cat  (pdopd). 
Aristotle  declares,  however,  that  the  last  named  {Phys.  225a  26, 
2256  10)  is  not  a  proper  form  of  motion,  on  the  ground  that  the  non- 
existent cannot  be  said  to  experience  motion. 

2  The  explanation  here  referred  to  is  not  found  in  the  extant  Problems. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Following  upon  what  has  been  said,  we  have  to  consider 
to   what   occurrences   the   phenomenon   of   sleeping   and 

2  waking  is  due  and  what  is  its  origin.  Now,  it  is  plain 
that  as  soon  as  an  animal  has  sensation,  it  must  at  once 
take  nourishment  and  grow ;  food  in  its  final  state  is, 
in  all  sanguineous  animals,  blood,  and  in  bloodless  animals 

456  b  something  analogous  to  blood.     The  blood  is  contained  in 
the  veins,  the  origin  of  which  is  found  in  the  heart  (a 

3  fact  which  is  demonstrated  by  dissection).  When  food 
has  been  introduced  from  without  into  those  parts 
intended  for  its  reception,  an  evaporation  takes  place  in 
its  transmission  into  the  veins,  and  here  it  is  transformed 

4  into  blood  and  is  carried  to  its  main  organ.  This  subject 
was  discussed  in  the  treatise  On  Food}  But  we  must 
resume  it  now  for  the  sake  of  observing  the  origins  of 
animal  movement  and  of  seeing  to  what  affection  of  the 

5  organ  of  sensation  waking  and  sleeping  are  due.  For 
sleep   is    not   any  random   exhaustion    of  the   power   of 

1  The  work  On  Food  (irepl  rpofirjs)  appears  to  be  referred  to  in  De  an. 
4166  31,  but  whether  or  not  it  was  actually  written  is  uncertain.  It  is 
not  in  the  present  Corpus  of  Aristotle's  writings. 

224 


chap.  in.  ANIMAL   HEAT   AND    SLEEP  225 

sensation,  as  said  above.  Senselessness,  choking,  and 
swooning  produce  a  similar  exhaustion.  And  in  some 
cases  of  swooning  there  has  been  found  even  a  strong 
power  of  imagination.  Now  this  creates  a  problem.  6 
For  if  it  is  possible  for  a  swooning  person  to  fall 
asleep,  then  this  imagination  might  be  regarded  as  a 
dream.  Also,  people  often  talk  when  they  are  in  a 
deep  swoon  and  are  to  all  appearances  dead.  To  all 
these  cases  of  swooning,  however,  we  must  suppose  that 
the  same  explanation  applies.  But,  as  we  have  said,  sleep  7 
cannot  be  any  and  every  incapacity  to  feel  sensation;  on 
the  contrary  this  particular  condition  springs  from  the 
evaporation  of  food.  For  the  evaporation  must  be  thrown 
off  to  a  certain  extent,  and  then  it  must  return  and 
change  again,  like  the  ebb  and  flood  of  a  shifting  strait.  8 
All  animal  heat  tends  to  rise ;  when,  however,  it  reaches 
the  upper  parts,  it  turns  about  and  courses  down  again 
in  mass.  Consequently,  sleep  is  most  easily  produced 
after  taking  food.  For  a  large  quantity  of  moist  crass  9 
matter  is  then  carried  to  the  upper  parts.  This  by 
remaining  there  produces  heaviness  and  causes  one  to 
fall  asleep.  But  when  it  descends  and  in  turning 
throws  off  its  heat,  then  sleep  ensues  and  the  animal 
slumbers.  A  proof  of  this  is  furnished  by  the  action  of 
narcotics ;  for  they  all,  whether  liquid  or  solid,  produce 
heaviness,  e.g.  the  poppy,  mandrake,  wine,  and  bearded 
darnel.  And  those  who  droop  their  heads  and  nod  into  10 
slumber  appear  to  be  in  this  heavy  condition ;  they 
cannot  lift  their  heads  or  eyelids.  Sleep  of  this  sort 
follows  mostly  on  the  taking  of  food.  For  there  is  then  a 
strong  evaporation   from   food.       It  further  arises   from 


226  aristotle's  psychology  desomno 

certain  fatiguing  efforts.  For  fatigue  tends  to  waste,  and 
457  a  waste-matter  is  like  indigested  food,  when  it  is  not  cold, 
ii  Certain  diseases,  such  as  are  due  to  an  excessive  amount 
of  moisture  or  heat,  produce  this  effect  of  sleep,  as  is  the 
case,  e.g.  in  fever  and  lethargy.  Further,  early  infancy 
produces  it ;  for  children  sleep  a  great  deal  because  all 

12  their  food  rises  to  the  upper  parts.  A  proof  of  this  is 
seen  in  the  excessive  growth  of  the  upper  parts  in  propor- 
tion to  the  lower  ones  in  early  childhood,  due  to  the  fact 
that  growth  tends  in  that  direction.  It  is  to  this  cause 
also  that  epileptic  conditions  are  due.  For  sleep  is  similar 
to  epilepsy,  in  fact  is  epilepsy  in  a  certain  sense.     And 

13  so  the  beginning  of  this  condition  in  many  cases  happens 
during  sleep,  and  while  asleep  persons  have  an  attack  of 
it,  but  not  while  awake.  For  when  a  great  mass  of 
fumes  is  carried  to  the  upper  parts,  in  descending  they 
press  on  the  veins  and  produce  constriction  of  the  passage 

14  through  which  respiration  takes  place.  Consequently, 
wine  is  not  good  for  children  or  for  wet-nurses  (for  it 
makes  no  difference,  perhaps,  whether  the  wine  is 
taken  by  the  children  or  by  the  nurses),  but  they 
should  drink  it  thinned  with  water  and  in  small  quanti- 
ties.     For    wine    contains    spirituous    fumes,    especially 

15  wine  of  dark  colour.  In  children  the  upper  parts 
become  so  full  of  food,  that  during  five  months  of  life 
they  cannot  turn  their  necks.  For  a  great  quantity  of 
moisture  rises  to  the  upper  parts,  just  as  it  does  in  the 
case  of  persons  who  are  very  drunk.  This  phenomenon 
suggests   a   rational    explanation    of    the    fact    that    the 

16  embryo  remains  at  first  quiet  in  the  womb.  Also,  in 
general,   persons   with    deep    lying   veins,   of   dwarf-like 


chap.  in.  FOOD   AND    SLEEP  227 

structure,  and  with  large  heads,  are  given  to  sleep.  For 
the  veins  of  the  one  class  are  small  and  so  the  moisture 
in  its  downward  course  cannot  readily  flow  through  them, 
while  in  the  case  of  persons  of  dwarf-like  structure 
and  large  heads,  there  is  a  great  pressure  and  evaporation 
towards  the  upper  parts.  Large- veined  persons  are  not  17 
given  to  sleep  because  of  the  facility  for  the  passage  of 
blood l  in  the  veins,  unless  there  be  some  adverse  con- 
ditions present.  Neither  are  the  atrabilious  especially 
inclined  to  sleep.  For  their  internal  parts  are  cool  and 
so  no  considerable  evaporation  takes  place  in  them. 
Consequently  owing  to  their  dryness  they  are  fond  of 
eating.  For  the  condition  of  their  bodies  is  such  that 
they  seem  to  have  eaten  nothing.  For  the  black  bile,  18 
being  in  its  nature  cool,  cools  the  nutritive  region  and 
the  other  parts,  where  this  excretion  of  bile  is  potentially 
present.  From  the  foregoing,  one  sees  that  sleep  is  an  457  ^ 
internal  concentration  of  heat  and  a  natural  reaction  from 
the  cause  named.  For  this  reason  a  person  in  sleep  19 
moves  a  great  deal.  From  the  moment  that  the  heat 
ceases  to  rise,  however,  the  person  becomes  cool  and  owing 
to  the  cooling  the  eyelids  fall  shut.  And  so  the  upper 
and  outer  parts  of  the  body  are  cool,  while  the  inner  and 
lower  ones,  e.g.  the  feet  and  the  entrails,  are  warm.  Yet  20 
one  might  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  statement  that  the 
deepest  sleep   occurs  after  eating,  that   wine  and   other 

1  The  circulation  of  the  blood  was,  of  course,  unknown  to  Aristotle. 
He  knew  only  of  its  direct  passage  from  the  heart  to  the  extremities 
and  of  its  movement  to  the  brain  and  return.  (4566  23  ;  De  insom.  4616 
7  ff).  The  brain,  being  the  coldest  organ  of  the  body,  performed  the 
function,  as  Aristotle  supposed,  of  reducing  and  regulating  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  blood. 


228  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  somno 

similar  heating  drinks  are  narcotic.     To  regard  sleep  as  a 
cooling  process  is  not  reasonable ;  it  is  rather  caused  by 

21  heat.  Or  is  one  to  suppose  that  analogously  to  the 
stomach  which  is  warm  when  it  is  empty  but  as  soon  as 
it  is  filled  becomes  cool  through  its  processes,  so  the 
channels  and  divisions  of  the  head  are  cooled  by  the  rise 
of  evaporated  matter  ?  Or  are  we  to  suppose  that 
analogously  to  persons  pouring  warm  water  over  them- 
selves and  then  suddenly  shivering,  so  after  the  heat  has 
risen,  the  collected  cold  produces  a  chill  and  in  this  way 

22  counteracts  the  natural  heat  and  drives  it  back  ?  Again, 
when  a  large  quantity  of  food  is  taken,  which  drives  the 
warmth  upward,  the  stomach  is  cooled,  until  digestion 
takes  place,  just  as  fire  is  cooled  when  fresh  wood  is  laid 
upon  it.  For  sleep  occurs,  as  we  said,  when  crass 
evaporation  under  the  influence  of  heat,  rises  through  the 

23  veins  to  the  head.  When  this  can  continue  no  longer, 
because  an  excessive  mass  has  been  carried  to  the  upper 
parts,  then  reaction  takes  place  and  the  evaporated 
matter  flows  back  to  the  lower  parts.  Consequently 
when  the  rising  heat  is  withdrawn,  men  sink  down 
(man  is  the  only  animal  that  stands  erect),  and  when  the 
heat  returns,  it  causes  lapse  of  consciousness,  and  later 

24  awakens  imagination.  The  explanation  we  have  just 
given  for  the  phenomenon  of  refrigeration  is  a  possible 
one.  The  region  about  the  brain,  however,  is  the  chief 
factor  here,  as  we  have  said.  The  brain  is  the  coldest 
part  of  the  body,  and   in   animals   that   have  no   brain 

25  the  part  analogous  to  it  is  the  coldest  part.  Just 
as  water  is  evaporated  by  the  sun's  heat  and,  when 
it    rises    into    the   upper    air,  is    cooled    by    the    air's 


chap.  in.  THE    BLOOD   AND   SLEEP  229 

temperature,  and  condensed  falls  to  the  earth  once  more 
in  the  form  of  water,  so  in  the  rise  of  heat  to  the  458a 
brain,  the  excessive  evaporation  is  converted  into  viscid 
matter  (for  this  reason  catarrhal  affections  appear  to 
come  from  the  brain),  whereas  the  evaporation  that 
assists  nourishment  and  is  normal,  returns  to  the  lower 
parts  condensed,  and  decreases  the  heat.  The  thinness  26 
and  slender  structure  of  the  veins  about  the  brain  con- 
tribute to  refrigeration,  and  to  the  difficulty  of  their 
taking  up  the  evaporation.  This  is  the  cause  of  re- 
frigeration, even  in  cases  where  the  evaporation  creates 
an  excessive  degree  of  heat.  Waking  takes  place  when  27 
digestion  has  been  completed,  and  the  great  amount  of 
heat  which  is  crowded  into  a  small  region  out  of  the 
surrounding  parts,  has  gained  control  ([over  the  cold]), 
and  when,  further,  the  crass  blood  has  been  separated 
from  the  purified  blood.  The  thinnest  and  purest  blood 
is  in  the  head,  the  thickest  and  most  turbid  in  the 
lower  parts.  The  primary  source  of  all  blood  is,  as  28 
we  have  said  in  this  treatise  and  elsewhere,1  the  heart. 
Between  the  two  chambers  of  the  heart  there  is  a 
middle     chamber    connected     with    both. 2        The    two 

1  De  part.  an.  6486  4 ;  de  juvent.  4686  32  ;  de  respir.  4746  7. 

2  According  to  Aristotle  there  are  three  cavities  or  chambers  in  the 
heart,  which  he  calls  right,  left,  and  middle.  The  right  cavity  is  the 
largest,  the  left  one  the  smallest,  and  the  middle  one  is  middle-sized. 
The  right  cavity  in  Aristotle's  conception  is  identical  with  the  right 
ventricle,  which  he  saw  in  a  suffocated  animal  and  in  a  disturbed  state, 
so  that  it  appeared  larger  than  the  middle  cavity  (the  left  ventricle). 
This  in  turn  appears  larger  than  the  collapsed  left  auricle,  which  is 
Aristotle's  left  cavity.  The  fourth  cavity  or  right  auricle  was  merged 
by  Aristotle  in  the  great  vein,  because,  as  Huxley  says  (Nature,  vol. 
xxi.  p.  2),  the  vena  cava  inferior,  the  right  auricle,  and  the  vena  cava 
superior  and  innominate  vein,  when  distended  with  blood,  appear  "to 


230  aristotle's  psychology  desomno 

chambers  severally  receive  blood  from  the  two  arteries, 
from    the   great    artery   and    the    aorta,    and   the   sepa- 

29  ration  takes  place  in  the  middle  chamber.  The  detailed 
treatment  of  this  subject,  belongs,  however,  more 
properly  to  other  treatises.  On  account  of  the  un- 
separated  character  of  the  blood  after  taking  food  sleep 
occurs  and  continues  until  the  purest  element  is  sepa- 
rated off  and  carried  to  the  upper  parts,  and  the  more 
turbid  element  to  the  lower  parts.  When  this  is  accom- 
plished,  sleepers  are  released  from  the  heaviness  caused 

30  by  food  and  awake.  The  cause  of  sleep  has,  therefore, 
been  explained  as  the  reaction  of  crass  vapour,  which 
rises  under  the  influence  of  its  inherent  heat  on  the 
primary  organ1  of  sensation.  Sleep  has  also  been 
explained  as  the  inhibition  of  the  primary  sense-organ, 
and  its  incapacity  for  function,  and  as  a  necessary  pheno- 
menon (for  no  animal  can  exist  apart  from  the  conditions 
which  develop  its  nature),  and  sleep 2  exists  for  the  sake 
of  preservation,  for  rest  preserves. 

form  one  continuous  column,  to  which  the  heart  is  attached  as  a  sort 
of  appendage."  Consequently,  instead  of  a  right  and  left  auricle  and  a 
right  and  left  ventricle,  Aristotle  distinguished  only  three  cavities,  a 
right,  a  left,  and  a  middle.     Cf.  De  histor,  anim.  496a  4  ff. 

!The  heart. 

2  For  the  history  of  the  various  ancient  theories  of  sleep  see  Spitta, 
Die  Schlaf-  und  Traumzustande  der  menschlichen  Seele,  Tubingen,  1882, 
pp.  2  ff.,  and  Radestock,  Schlaf  und  Traum,  Leipzig,  1879,  pp.  240  ff. 


ON  DREAMS. 


CHAPTEE   I. 


We   must  next  investigate   dreams  and  inquire  first   of 
all    in  what  part  of    the  soul  this  phenomenon  occurs,  458  £ 
and  whether  it   is    an  affection  of    the   thinking  power 
or  of  the  sensible  power.     For  it  is  solely  by  these  two 
powers  within  us  that  we  know  at  all.2     If  the  use  of  2 

1  Dreams  are  due  to  revived  movements  originally  set  up  by  external 
stimuli  as  well  as  to  immediate  sense-impressions.  The  former  are 
centrally  excited,  to  use  a  modern  distinction,  while  the  latter  are  peri- 
pherally excited  (cf.  4606  25  ff.,  462a  8  ff.,  463a  7  ff.,  779a  14).  In 
our  waking  state  these  movements  are  for  the  most  part  obliterated 
or  obscured  by  stronger  currents  of  thinking  or  feeling.  In  sleep,  when 
the  blood  is  less  disturbed,  these  dream-movements  come  to  clear  con- 
sciousness. So  it  is  that  a  bodily  discomfort  that  is  not  felt  in  waking 
stirs  a  dream  in  sleep.  It  also  happens  that  a  dream  may  lead  to  action 
by  day.  Dreams,  which  are  images  or  after-motions  of  sensations,  are 
regular  or  distorted  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  physical  disturbance 
at  hand  and  the  number  of  cross-sensations  (461a  16).  Aristotle  defines 
a  dream  as  "a  movement  in  the  organs  of  sense  produced  by  imagina- 
tion" (462a  8,  cf.  462a  28).  Dreams  rise  to  the  surface  of  conscious- 
ness when  they  are  released  from  the  stronger  movements  that  restrain 
them,  just  as  artificial  frogs  rise  to  the  surface  when  the  salt  is  melted 
off  (4616  16). 

2  Cf.  De  an.  429a  31,  4316  20  ff. 

231 


232  aristotle's  psychology  deinsom. 

sight  is  vision,  and  of  hearing  audition,  and  of  sense  in 
general  sensation,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there  are 
common  sensibles1  such  as  form,  magnitude,  number,  etc., 
and  particular  sensibles,  such  as  colour,  sound,  flavour, 
and,  further,  if  it  is  impossible  for  any  animal  to  see  with 
its  eyes  closed  and  asleep,  and  if  this  applies  equally  to 
the   other   senses,   then   it   is  evident  that  we   have  no 

3  sensation  in  sleep,  and  so  it  is  not  by  means  of  sensa- 
tion that  we  experience  dreaming.  Neither  are  dreams 
mediated  by  opinion.  For  we  not  only  say  that  an 
approaching  object  is  a  man  or  a  horse,  but  also  that 
it  is  white  or  beautiful,  as  to  which  qualities  opinion2 
apart  from  sensation  makes  no  deliverances,  whether  true 

4  or  false.  However,  this  is  just  what  the  soul  does  in 
sleep.  For,  as  in  waking,  so  in  sleep,  we  believe  we  see 
that  the  approaching  object  is  a  man,  and  that  it  is  white. 
Again,  we  think  of  other  things  along  with  the  dream, 
just  as  is  the  case  with  perception  in  our  waking  state. 
For  we  also  often  think  about  what  we  perceive.  So  in 
sleep    along    with    our    imaginings    we   sometimes   have 

5  different  thoughts.  This  would  become  apparent  to 
anyone  who  would  give  attention  on  rising  and  try  to 
remember.  There  have  been  persons  who  have  in  this 
way  observed  their  dreams,  as  e.g.  those  who  try  to  arrange 
their  deliverances  in  accordance  with  the  precepts  of  the 
mnemonic  art.3  For  it  often  happens  in  their  case  that 
along  with  the  dream  they  put  something  else,  an  image 

1  De  an.  418a  15. 

2Z>e  an.  427b  20  ff.,  Post.  Anal.  886  33  ff.  Opinion  refers  to  the 
contingent  or  to  that  which  may  or  may  not  be  true  (ivdexo/mewa  de  ical 
ciXXws  ^XeLV)' 

3  Cf.  Top.  1636  ff,,  De  an.  4276  19. 


chap.  i.  DREAMS   AND   ILLUSION  233 

before  their  eyes,  in  the  place  in  question.  And  so  it  is  6 
clear  that  not  every  image  seen  in  sleep  is  a  dream,  and 
what  we  think  conceptually  we  regard  as  true  or  false 
through  the  organ  of  opinion.  So  much  is  clear  on  this 
subject  that  the  same  agency  which  in  disease  produces 
illusion  while  we  are  awake,  also  produces  the  condi- 
tion of  illusion  in  sleep.  Even  when  we  are  in  sound 
health  and  know  the  truth,  still  the  sun  appears  to  us 
to  be  only  a  foot  in  diameter.  But  whether  the  soul's  7 
powers  of  imagination  and  sensation  are  the  same  or 
different,  in  any  case  dreams  do  not  take  place  indepen- 
dently of  seeing  and  some  sort  of  sensation.  For  illusions 
of  sight  and  hearing  occur  when  a  person  really  sees  and 
hears  something,  although  not  the  thing  that  he  thinks 
he  sees  or  hears.  In  sleep,  however,  there  is  according 
to  the  foregoing  hypothesis  no  seeing,  no  hearing,  no  459  a 
sensation  at  all.  The  hypothesis  that  there  is  no  vision  8 
is,  therefore,  untrue,  and  that  sensation  experiences  no 
excitation  is  untrue;  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  possible 
for  sight  and  the  other  senses  to  undergo  some  change 
and  things  impinge  on  each  of  them  to  a  certain  extent, 
as  in  the  sensation  belonging  to  the  waking  state,  though 
with  a  certain  difference.  Sometimes  opinion  declares 
that  the  seen  object  is  false,  as  in  the  waking  state;  some- 
times it  is  held  in  check  and  conforms  to  the  imagination. 
Evidently  the  affection  which  we  call  dreaming  does  not  9 
belong  to  opinion  or  to  the  thinking  part  of  the  soul. 
Neither  does  it  belong  to  the  sense-part  unqualifiedly. 
For  it  would  then  be  possible  to  see  and  hear  unqualifiedly. 
But  we  must  consider  in  what  sense  and  in  what  way  it 
attaches  to  the  part.     Let  us  take  this  evident  fact  for  a  10 


234  aristotle's  psychology  deinsom. 

starting-point,  that  if  sleep  is  a  condition  of  the  sensitive 
part,  so  is  dreaming.  For  sleeping  and  dreaming  are  not 
ascribable  to  different  animal  organs,  but  to  the  same 
ii  organ.  Inasmuch  as  we  discussed  imagination  in  the 
treatise  On  the  Soul,1  and  inasmuch  as  we  find  that  the 
power  of  imagination  is  one  with  that  of  sensation,  only 
that  the  mode  of  expression  in  the  two  cases  is  different, 
imagination  being  a  process  stimulated  by  an  actual 
sensation,  and  since  dreaming  appears  to  be  a  form  of 
imagination  (for  we  call  an  imagination  which  we 
experience  in  sleep  a  dream,  whether  it  is  unconditioned 
or  conditioned),  it  is  evident  that  dreaming  is  a  condition 
of  the  sensitive  part,2  but  of  the  sensitive  part  in  its 
power  to  imagine. 

1  De  an.  427&  14,  429a  9.  2  Vid.  Note  1,  p.  231. 


CHAPTER   II. 

We  might  best  observe  the  nature  of  dreams,  and  the 
way  in  which  they  are  caused,  from  the  standpoint  of 
what  occurs  in  sleep.  For  sensible  objects  stimulate 
sensation  in  the  several  sense-organs,  and  the  mental 
condition  produced  thereby  is  not  only  present  during 
the  active  process  of  sensation,  but  persists  after  the 
sensation  has  gone.  The  phenomenon  here  seems 
to  be  similar  to  that  observed  in  the  case  of  thrown 
objects.  For  in  the  case  of  a  thrown  object,  the  2 
movement  persists  although  the  mover  is  no  longer 
in  contact  with  the  thing.  For  the  moving  body 
communicates  motion  to  a  certain  part  of  the  atmos- 
phere, and  this  in  turn  sets  another  part  in  motion. 
And  in  this  way  motion  is  caused  both  in  the  air  and 
in  water  until  the  body  comes  to  rest.  One  must  459  £ 
suppose  that  something  like  this  takes  place  also  in 
qualitative 1  change.  A  body  that  is  warmed  imparts 
by  means  of  its  heat  warmth  to  the  adjacent  body,  and 

J  For   Aristotle's   conception   of   the   various  forms   of   motion,   see 
Note  1,  p.  223. 

235 


236  aristotle's  psychology  dbinsom. 

this  in  turn  distributes  it  further  on  until  it  reaches  its 

3  terminal  point.  This,  therefore,  is  what  must  take  place 
in  the  organ  wherewith  we  experience  sensation,  since 
actual  sensation  is  a  kind  of  qualitative  change.  Conse- 
quently, this  condition  is  found  in  the  sense-organs  not 
only  during  the  process  of  sensation,  but  also  after  the 
process  has  ceased,  and  in  their  inner  depths  as  well  as 

4  on  the  surface.  This  becomes  evident  when  we  have  a 
sensation  that  continues  over  some  time.  For  when  we 
turn  our  senses  to  something  else,  the  original  sensation 
persists,  as  e.g.  when  we  turn  from  the  sun  to  a  dark 
object.  The  result  is  that  one  sees  nothing  owing  to  the 
fact  that  the  sense-process,  stimulated  by  the  light,  still 
lurks  in  the  eyes.  And  if  one  looks  a  long  time  at  a 
single  colour,  whether  it  be  white  or  green,  things  appear 
to   be    similarly  coloured  wherever  we   turn   our   eyes.1 

5  Again,  if  we  look  at  the  sun  or  some  bright  object,  and 
then  shut  our  eyes,  there  appears  to  sharp  observation,  in 
the  direct  line  which  vision  employs,  first  of  all  a  colour 
like  the  actual  one,  which  then  changes  to  scarlet,  then  to 

6  purple,  until  it  passes  into  blackness  and  vanishes.  Also, 
the  senses  are  affected  in  this  way  when  they  turn 
quickly  from  objects  in  motion,  e.g.  from   looking   at  a 

1  Aristotle  refers  to  the  familiar  phenomenon  of  'after-images.' 
The  fact  that  the  attention  was  fixed  (in  Aristotle's  illustration)  a 
considerable  time,  and  that  he  mentions  the  'flight  of  colours,'  shows 
that  the  reference  is  to  '  positive  after-images '  and  not  to  '  primary 
memory  images,'  a  distinction  unknown,  of  course,  to  Aristotle.  Cf. 
Sully,  The  Human  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  278;  James,  Principles  of  Psychology, 
vol.  i.  p.  645;  Ebbinghaus,  Grundzilge  der  Psychologie,  p.  244; 
Helmholtz,  Handbuch  der  physiologischen  Optik  (ed.  1867),  pp.  366  ff.  ; 
Wundt,  Human  and  Animal  Psychology,  pp.  108  ff.  ;  Titchener, 
Experimental  Psychology,  vol.  i.  part  ii.  pp.  48  f. 


chap.  ii.  THE    EYE    AND    THE    MIRROR  237 

river,  and  especially  from  looking  at  swiftly  flowing 
streams.  For  objects  at  rest  then  seem  to  be  in  motion. 
And  men  are  made  deaf  by  loud  noises,  and  their  sense 
of  smell  is  destroyed  by  strong  odours,  and  so  on.  This 
evidently  occurs  as  we  describe  it.  7 

That  sense-organs  readily  detect  even  minute  distinc- 
tions is  proven  by  the  use  of  a  mirror,  concerning  which 
fact  one  might  stop  at  this  point  to  investigate  and  make 
inquiries.     From  these  inquiries  it  will  at  the  same  time 
become  plain  that  just  as  sight  is  subject  to  an  impres- 
sion, so  it  exercises  an  activity.     When  women  look  into  8 
a  very  clear  mirror1  after  their  menstrual  flow,  the  mirror's 
surface  becomes  covered  with  a  bloody  cloud,  and  if  the 
mirror  is  new  the  stain  is  hard  to  remove,  but  if  it  is  old  9 
the  removal  is  easier.     The  reason  is  that  the  eye,  as  we  460 
said,  not  only  receives  an  impression  from  the  air,  but  it 
also   produces   an   impression   and  a  movement,  just  as 
bright  things  do.     For  the  eye  is  classed  amongst  objects 
that  are  bright  and  possess  colour.      Eyes  are  constituted 
in  the  same  way,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose,  as  any  other 

1  Ancient  mirrors  were  made  of  polished  metal.  The  phenomenon 
here  described  is  one  of  many  of  the  old-wives'  stories  which  Aristotle 
took  up  in  his  treatises  and  to  which  he  appears  to  have  given  credence. 
Aristotle,  we  must  remember,  had  no  considerable  body  of  critically 
sifted  and  scientifically  accredited  data  to  work  with.  He  was  depen- 
dent chiefly  on  his  own  observations  and  the  reports  brought  to  him  by 
unskilled  persons,  in  an  age  before  people  had  concerned  themselves 
about  the  laws  of  evidence.  It  is  just  this  historical  environment 
that  shows  us  how  great  was  the  ordinarily  sober  judgment  of  Aristotle 
and  how  unparalleled  his  acumen  in  seeing  the  scientific  significance  of 
facts.  It  is,  however,  curious  to  note  that  Roger  Bacon  accepts  the 
story  as  true  :  "quoniam  si  ipsa  [mulier  menstruata]  aspiciat  speculum 
novum,  apparet  nubes  sanguinea  in  speculo  ex  violentia  menstrui 
inficientis  (Opus  Majns,  ed.  Bridges,  vol.  i.  p.  142).  Cf.  Lewes, 
Aristotle,  p.  172. 


238  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  insom. 

bodily    organ.     And    so    they   naturally    contain    veins. 

io  When,  therefore,  the  menstrual  flow  takes  place,  owing  to 
disturbance  and  flow  of  blood,  there  is  a  difference  in  the 
eyes,  imperceptible  to  us,  but  nevertheless  real  (for  the 
seed  and  the  monthly  flow  have  the  same  nature),  and 
the  air  is  set  in  motion  by  the  eyes,  and  the  air  being 
continuous  to  the  mirror,  it  imparts  to  the  latter  a  cer- 
tain quality  and  an  impression  similar  to  the  one  it  has 
itself  received.      The  air  affects  the  surface  of  the  mirror. 

ii  But  as  the  cleanest  clothing  is  the  most  readily  stained, 
so  it  is  here.  For  a  clean  thing  shows  exactly  whatever 
taint  it  receives,  even  the  slightest  effects,  more  than  other 
things  do.  Bronze  especially,  owing  to  its  smoothness,  is 
affected  by  every  contact  (we  must  regard  the  contact  of 
air  as  a  kind  of  friction,  as  cleaning  or  washing),  and 
owing  to  the  purity  of  the  bronze  this  contact,  however 

12  slight,  becomes  visible.  The  reason  why  stains  are  not 
readily  removable  from  new  mirrors  is  to  be  found  in  the 
fact  that  they  are  clean  and  smooth.  For  stains  pene- 
trate deep  into  such  mirrors  and  in  every  direction ;  for 
owing  to  the  mirror's  pure  surface  the  spots  go  deep  and 
owing  to  its  smooth  polish  they  spread  in  all  directions. 
In  old  mirrors  the  stain  does  not  fasten,  for  it  does  not 

13  penetrate  so  deep  but  stays  rather  on  the  surface.  From 
these  facts  it  is  evident  that  movement  is  excited  by 
slight  distinctions,  that  sensation  is  swift,  and  further, 
that  the  sense-organ  for  colour  not  only  receives 
impressions  but  also  reacts  on  external  objects.  Facts 
regarding   wine   and  the   preparation   of  ointments   also 

14  furnish  proof  for  these  statements.  For  the  prepared 
oil   and   wine   readily   take    up  the    smells  of   adjacent 


chap.  ii.  ILLUSION   IN   DREAMS  239 

objects  and  they  become  tainted  not  merely  with  the 
smell  of  things  thrown  into  them  or  mixed  with  them, 
but  also  of  things  that  are  placed  or  grow  in  their  near 
neighbourhood. 

In  reference  to  our  original  inquiry  let  us  lay  down  460  £ 
one  fundamental  truth,  which  is  evidenced  by  what  has  15 
been  said,  viz.  that  after  the  removal  of  the  external 
sensible  object,  the  experienced  sensations  persist.  To 
this  we  must  add  that  when  under  the  influence  of  strong 
feeling  we  are  easily  deceived  regarding  our  sensations, 
different  persons  in  different  ways,  as  e.g.  the  coward 
under  the  influence  of  fear  and  the  lover  under  that  of 
love  have  such  illusions 2  that  the  former  owing  to  a 
trifling  resemblance  thinks  he  sees  an  enemy  and  the 
latter  his  beloved.  And  the  more  impressionable  the 
person  is,  the  less  is  the  resemblance  required.  Similarly  16 
everybody  is  easily  deceived  when  in  anger  or  influenced  by 
any  strong  desire,  and  the  more  subject  one  is  to  these 
feelings  the  more  one  is  deceived.  This  is  the  reason  why 
men  sick  of  a  fever1  sometimes  think  they  see  animals  on 
the  walls  owing  to  some  slight  resemblance  in  the  figures 
drawn  there.  And  this  tendency  to  illusion  at  times  17 
keeps  pace  with  the  intensity  of  the  emotional  experience, 
so  that  in  cases  where  the  patient  is  not  very  sick,  he  is 
still  conscious  of  the  deception,  but  where  his  condition  is 
more  aggravated,  he  even  rushes  upon  these  animals. 
The  explanation  of  this  phenomenon  is  that  the  intellect 

1  Aristotle  here  notes  certain  of  the  main  causes  of  ordinary  illusions 
and  hallucinations,  although  the  hallucination  of  fever-delirium  is  here 
described  rather  as  illusion.  The  sense-stimulus  is  there  in  the  picture 
on  the  wall,  but  the  inference  is  false.  Cf.  James,  Principles  of 
Psychology,  vol.  ii.  p.  86. 


240  aristotle's  psychology  deinsom. 

i  8  and  the  faculty  in  which  our  images  *  arise  do  not  pass 
judgment  with  the  same  power.  A  proof  of  this  is  that 
the  sun  appears  to  us  only  a  foot  in  diameter  and  there 
is  many  another  fact  which  contradicts  our  imagination. 
Also  by  crossing  the  fingers  2  a  single  object  under  them 
appears  to  be  two  and  yet  we  do  not  say  there  are  two  ; 

19  for  sight  is  more  decisive  than  touch.  If,  however, 
touch  were  our  only  sense,  our  judgment  would  declare 
that  the  single  object  is  two.  The  source  of  illusion  is 
found  in  the  fact  that  things,  whatever  they  may  be,  are 
perceived  not  merely  while  the  stimulation  of  the  sense- 
object  continues,  but  also  during  the  further  activity  of 
the  sense  itself,  if  this  movement  is  the  prolongation  of 
that  awakened  by  the  sensible  object.  I  mean,  e.g.  the 
shore  appears  to  sailors  to  move,  although  it  is  by  some- 
thing other  than  the  shore  that  the  eye  is  set  in  motion. 

1  Read  y  rd  (pavTa.crp.aTa  yiyveTai  instead  of  ~d  (pavrda/xaTa  yiyveaQai 
(460&  17).  The  imagination,  in  Aristotle's  psychology,  does  not  pass 
judgment,  although  the  'common  sense,'  in  which  phantasms  reside, 
has  this  power. 

2  This  is  the  oldest  example  of  illusion,  so  far  as  I  know,  in  the  history 
of  psychology  (cf.  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  ii.  p.  86). 
The  illustration  has  become  classical.  In  the  normal  position  of  our 
ringers  (from  which  part  of  our  tactual  world  has  been  built  up),  it  is 
impossible  to  place  the  radial  side  of  the  index  finger  and  the  ulnar  side 
of  the  middle  finger  on  a  marble  or  similar  small  object  at  the  same 
time.  Consequently  when  we  cross  our  fingers  and  perform  this  feat  of 
touching  the  radial  side  of  the  one  and  the  ulnar  side  of  the  other  with 
a  marble,  we  seem  to  touch  two  objects,  because  these  two  points 
on  our  skin  are  never  touched  by  a  single  object  at  the  same  moment. 
Aristotle  further  refers  to  this  instance  of  illusion  in  Probl.  9586  14, 
and  Metaph.  1011a  33.  For  a  detailed  discussion  of  this  and  similar 
forms  of  illusion,  viol.  Henri,  Uber  die  Raumwahmelimungen  des 
Tastsinnes,  pp.  67  ff. 


CHAPTER  III. 

From  these  considerations  it  is  clear  that  sense-processes, 
whether  arising  from  external  objects  or  bodily  activities, 
take  place  not  merely  during  the  waking  state,  but 
occur  also  in  sleep,  and  that  at  this  time  they  appear 
even  more  numerous.  For  during  the  day  they  are  2 
kept  in  the  background  by  the  combined  activity  of 
the  senses  and  the  intellect,  and  so  are  obscured,  just  461 
as  a  small  fire  is  obscured  when  placed  alongside  a  larger 
one,  or  as  trivial  pleasures  or  pains  are  obscured  alongside 
of  great  ones,  but  when  the  latter  have  vanished  then 
the  smaller  ones  rise  to  view.  At  night,  owing  to  the 
inactivity  of  the  special  senses  and  their  incapacity  to 
function,  caused  by  the  return  flow  of  heat  from  the 
outer  into  the  inward  parts,1  these  sense-movements 
are  carried  to  the  primary  seat  of  sensation  and 
become  clear,  when  the  disturbance  has  subsided.  And 
we  must  suppose,  as  tiny  whirlpools  occur  in  rivers,  so  3 
each  movement  goes  on  continuously,  frequently  in  the 
same  direction,  and  again  resolved  into  other  forms 
through   counter-influences.      Consequently  after    eating,  4 

1  Cf.  De  somno,  4576  20  ff. 
Q  241 


242  aristotle's  psychology  deinsom. 

and  in  the  case  of  very  young  persons,  as  e.g.  in  children, 
dreams  do  not  occur.     For  there  is  a  strong:  movement 

5  excited  by  the  heat  in  food.  The  case  here  is  similar  to 
what  occurs  in  water  when  it  is  violently  agitated,  viz. 
sometimes  no  image  is  reflected  and  sometimes  only  an 
entirely  distorted  one,1  so  that  the  thing  appears  different 
from  the  reality.  On  the  other  hand  when  the  water  is 
still  we  see  clear  and  distinct  images.  So,  too,  in  sleep 
the  images  and  residual  movements  resulting  from 
sensations  are  sometimes  entirely  obliterated  by  a  move- 
ment greater  than  the  given  one,  and  sometimes  visions 
appear  confused  and  monstrous  and  the  dreams  are  not 
marked  by  normal  health,  but  are  such  as  one  finds  in 
the  atrabilious,  in  men  sick  of  a  fever,  and  in  men  that 
are  drunken.     For  all  these  conditions  are  like  flatulency, 

6  and  excite  great  movement  and  disturbance.  But  when 
in  sanguineous  creatures  the  blood  has  come  to  rest  and 
is  separated  off,2  the  movement  of  sensation  that  proceeds 
from  each  sense-organ  and  persists,  awakens  normal 
dreams  and  causes  an  image  to  appear  and  the  person  to 

1  Cf.  note  1,  p.  231.  Sensations  cause  after-movements  like  the  ripples 
and  circles  in  water  agitated  by  a  pebble.  These  movements  repeat 
themselves  in  fainter  form,  clearly  in  still  water,  and  with  distorted, 
broken  shapes  where  the  water  is  disturbed  by  cross-movements. 
The  circles  or  images  are  then  confused  or  monstrous.  If  the  movement 
is  too  violent,  as  after  eating  and  in  children,  then,  as  in  violently 
agitated  water,  no  image  or  dream  is  produced. 

2  That  is,  purified  from  crass  elements.  Although  Aristotle  makes  a 
distinction  between  pure  and  crass  blood,  it  is  not  certain  that  these 
are  to  be  connected  with  the  aorta  and  vena  cava,  or  that  they  in  any 
way  correspond  to  arterial  and  venous  blood.  This  separation  takes 
place  in  the  heart,  which  is  at  once  the  physiological  and  the  psychical 
centre  of  animal  life, — the  "acropolis  of  the  body"  {De  part.  anim. 
670a  26). 


chap.  in.  MOVEMENT    IN    DREAMS  243 

believe  that  he  sees  something  owing  to  the  influences 
discharged  from  sight,  and  to  hear  owing  to  the  influences 
discharged  from  hearing,  and  similarly  with  the  other  7 
senses.  For  by  the  transmission  of  this  movement  from 
these  special  organs  to  the  primary  seat *  of  sensation, 
one  believes,  in  the  waking  state,  that  one  sees  and  hears  461  b 
and  perceives ;  and  because  it  sometimes  happens  that 
sight  seems  to  be  stimulated  without  its  being  really  so 
stimulated,  we  say  that  we  see,  and  because  touch  reports 
two  movements,  we  believe  a  single  object  to  be  two.  In  8 
a  word  the  primary  sense  affirms  the  deliverances  of  the 
special  sense,  when  no  other  more  decisive  sense  con- 
tradicts this.  There  is  without  doubt  an  appearance, 
but  what  appears  is  not  in  every  case  believed,  unless 
the  power  of  judgment  is  inhibited  or  is  not  exercised 
in  its  normal  way.  But  as  we  said  that  some  9 
persons  are  subject  to  illusion  under  one  condition  and 
others  under  another,  so  when  asleep,  one  is  deceived 
by  the  processes  of  sleep,  by  the  excitations  of  the 
sense-organs,  and  by  other  affections  of  sensation, 
to  such  a  degree  that  something  which  bears  only  a  10 
slight  resemblance  to  a  given  thing  is  thought  to  be 
that  thing.  For  when  one  is  asleep  and  the  mass 
of  blood  recedes  to  the  central  organ,  the  movements 
in  the  blood,  whether  latent  or  actual,  concentrate 
there.2  And  the  conditions  here  are  such  that  if  the 
blood  is  stirred,  a  particular  movement  rises  to  the 
surface  and  if  this  subsides,  then  another  follows.  They 
are  related  to  each  other  like  artificial  frogs  which  rise  to 
the  surface  of  the  water  as  soon  as  the  salt  on  them  is  11 

1  To  the  heart.  2  Be.  mmno,  4567;  23.     Cf.  note,  p.  227. 


244  aristotle's   psychology  deinsom. 

melted  off.  And  so  these  movements  are  latent  in  the 
blood,  and  as  soon  as  the  hindrance  is  removed  they 
come  to  active  expression.  When  set  free  in  the  small 
amount  of  blood  remaining  in  the  sense-organs,  they  stir 
themselves,  exhibiting  a  likeness  to  things  such  as  we  see 
in  clouds,  which  resemble  men  and  centaurs  in  quickly 

12  shifting  forms.  Each  of  these  images  is,  as  we  have  said, 
the  residue  of  actual  sensation.  After  the  true  sensation 
has  gone,  the  image  continues,  and  it  is  correct  to  say  that 
it  is  something  like  Coriscus  although  not  Coriscus.  And 
at  the  moment  of  sensation  the  master-organ  and  judging 
faculty  do  not  say  that  this  is  Coriscus,  but  only  that 
owing   to    this    sensation    the    real    Coriscus    is    yonder 

13  person.  On  experiencing  this  sensation  the  master-sense 
makes  the  above  deliverance,  provided  it  is  not  entirely 
inhibited  by  the  blood,  just  as  without  sensation  this 
movement  is  set  up  by  the  processes  latent  in  the  sense- 
organs.  This  latter,  which  resembles  a  thing,  one  then 
regards  as  the  real  thing.     And  the  power  of  sleep  is  so 

14  great  that  it  causes  us  to  be  unconscious  of  this  difference. 
If  one  presses  one's  fingers  under  the  eyes  and  does  not 

462^  notice  it,  a  single  thing  not  only  appears  double  but  is 
believed  to  be  so  ;  if  the  pressure  is  noticed  the  thing 
appears  to  be  double  but  is  not  believed  to  be  so,  and 
this  is  what  happens  in  sleep.  If  a  person  perceives 
that  he  is  asleep  and  is  aware  of  the  sleeping  condition 
in  which  the  sensation  occurs,  then  the  appearance  will 
be  present  indeed,  but  there  is  something  in  the  person 
which  says  this  is  only  a  phantasm  of  Coriscus  and  is 
not  Coriscus  himself  (for  there  is  often  something  in  the 
soul   of  the  sleeper  which   says  that  the  appearance  is 


chap.  in.  IMAGINATION   IN   DREAMS  245 

only  a  dream).     If,  however,  he  is  not  conscious  of  the 
sleeping  state,  then  nothing  contradicts  the  imagination. 

That  the  above  statement  is  correct,  and  that  we  have  15 
movements  of  imagination  in  the  sense-organs,  becomes 
clear,  if  in  falling  asleep  and  on  waking,  we  attentively 
try  to  remember  what  happens.1  For  sometimes  one 
will  detect,  on  waking,  that  the  images  which  appear  in 
sleep  are  movements  in  the  sense-organs.  In  the  case 
of  certain  young  persons  whose  sight  is  thoroughly  good, 
there  appear  before  them,  when  it  is  dark,  a  multitude  of 
moving  images,  so  that  they  conceal  themselves  in  fright. 
From  all  these  facts  one  must  conclude  that  a  dream  is  16 
a  kind  of  sleeping  phantasm.  For  the  imaginings  in 
children  just  referred  to  are  not  dreams,  nor  is  anything 
else  which  is  seen  when  we  have  the  free  use  of  our 
senses.  Neither  is  every  imagination  that  occurs  in 
sleep,  a  dream.  For  in  the  first  place  many  persons  17 
have  in  sleep  the  power,  in  some  form  or  other,  of 
perceiving  sound,  colour,  flavour,  or  touch,  although  the 
sensation  is  weak  and  seems  to  come  from  afar.  Persons 
who  are  asleep  and  open  their  eyes  slightly,  and  then 
suddenly  awake,  have  discovered  the  reality  of  the 
lamplight,  which  in  sleep  they  saw  only,  as  they  thought, 
in  a  glimmer,  and  hearing  the  faint  crowing  of  a  cock,  or 
the  bark  of  a  dog,  they  have,  on  waking,  recognised  them 
as  loud  voices.  Some  persons  even  reply  to  questions.  18 
For  it  is  possible  that  when  one  or  the  other  of  these 
states,  waking  or  sleeping,  is  unquestionably  present,  the 
other  may  be  present  to  some  extent.     In  these  cases 

1  One  may  see  from  this  that  Aristotle  was  a  careful   observer  of 
the  phenomena  of  consciousness. 


246  aristotle's  psychology  deinsom. 

there  can  be  no  dream,  neither  can  such  processes  of  real 
thought  as  occur  in  sleep,  along  with  fancies,  be  called 

19  dreams.1  But  a  dream  is  that  form  of  imagination  that 
originates  in  the  movement  of  sensation  during  the 
sleeping  state  as  such. 

It  has  occurred  in  certain  instances  that   men  have 

20  never  in  their  lives  known  themselves  to  have  a  dream ; 
462  £  in    other    cases    they    have    observed    them    when    far 

advanced  in  years  without  having  noticed  them  earlier. 

21  The  reason  why  dreams  do  not  occur  in  these  cases 
seems  to  be  closely  allied  to  the  reason  which  prevents 
their  occurrence  in  children,  and  after  eating.2  For 
persons  who  are  by  nature  so  constituted  that  a  large 
amount  of  vaporous-matter  ascends  to  their  upper  parts,  or 
the  return  of  this  matter  produces  in  them  great  move- 
ment, it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  in  these  cases  there 

22  are  no  dream-fancies.  In  advancing  years  there  is  nothing 
remarkable  in  the  fact  that  dreams  make  their  appear- 
ance. For  where  a  certain  ([physical])  change  takes  place, 
whether  owing  to  age  or  to  some  internal  affection,  this 
changed  condition  ([regarding  dreams])  must  also  occur. 

1  The  cases  in  which  one  distinguishes  an  actual  external  stimulus 
are  not  properly  dreams. 

2  The  question  whether  or  not  there  is  dreamless  sleep  is  not  a 
settled  one  (cf.  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.  p.  199  ff. ). 
Hammond,  Sleep  and  its  Derangement,  pp.  108  ff.  The  Cartesiaus, 
consistently  with  their  definition  of  mind  as  a  thinking  entity, 
deny  the  possibility  of  a  lapse  of  consciousness.  Owing  to  its 
nature  mind  must  always  think.  Kant  says:  "One  can  regard  it  aa 
certain  that  there  can  be  no  sleep  without  dreaming,  and  whoever 
says  he  has  never  dreamed,  has  only  forgotten  his  dream."  Anthro- 
pologie,  4te  AufL,  Leip.,  1833,  p.  105.  The  disposition  of  modern 
psychologists  is  to  regard  dreamless  sleep  as  probable,  but  the  question 
is  not  likely  to  be  removed  from  the  region  of  dispute.  Cf.  Wundt, 
Human  and  Animal  Psychology,  Eng.  Tr.,  p.  324. 


ON   PROPHECY  IN   SLEEP. 


CHAPTEE    I. 

Eegarding  prophecy  in  sleep  and  the  prophecy  said  to 
be  derivable  from  dreams,1  it  is  difficult  either  to  treat 
it  with  contempt  or  to  believe  in  it.      For  the  universal  2 

1The  attitude  of  Aristotle  towards  the  widespread  belief  in  the 
mantic  character  of  dreams  is  marked  by  judicial  fairness.  He  finally 
concludes,  however,  that  where  dreams  have  been  found  to  be  pro- 
phetic, this  is  due  merely  to  accident.  Belief  in  them  prevailed  and  to 
a  certain  extent  continues  to  prevail  amongst  all  nations,  and  is  attested 
by  all  literatures  from  the  earliest  times  (cf.  Tylor,  Early  History  of 
Mankind,  3rd  ed.  p.  6  ff. ;  Primitive,  Culture,  3rd  ed.  vol.  i.  p.  121  ff.). 
"All  argument  is  against  it;  but  all  belief  is  for  it,"  as  Tylor 
(vol.  ii.  p.  24)  quotes  from  Dr.  Johnson.  This  very  accurately 
represents  the  state  of  Aristotle's  mind  toward  the  prophetic  character 
of  dreams.  Greek  literature  especially  is  full  of  references  to  mantic 
dreams,  and  the  general  soothsaying  usages  in  Greek  religion  fostered 
belief  in  them.  Oneiros  (Dream)  is  sometimes  called  a  god  {II.  ii.  6), 
again  the  messenger  of  Zeus,  and  Hesiod  (Th.  212)  tells  us  that 
dreams  are  the  children  of  Night  without  a  father,  and  the  divine 
origin  of  dreams  is  witnessed  to  by  Socrates  {Crito,  44  a)  and  Xenophon 
{Anab.  iii.  112).  Aristotle  belonged  to  the  same  intellectual  era  as 
Socrates  and  Xenophon.  We  find  a  similar  belief  in  the  prophetic 
nature  of  dreams  witnessed  to  by  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  and  the  New 
Testament  {Gen.  xxviii.  12,  xl.  5-21  ;  Numbers  xii.  6  ;  Matthew  i.  20). 

247 


248  aristotle's  psychology  dedivin. 

or  widespread  belief  in  the  prophetic  nature  of  dreams, 
based  as  it  is  on  experience,  lends  support  to  this  view, 
and  it  is  not  incredible  that  certain  events  are  foreseen 
in  dreams.  There  is  a  certain  reasonableness  in  this, 
and  so  one  might,  in  like  manner,  apply  this  belief  to 

3  other  dreams.  The  fact,  however,  that  one  cannot  dis- 
cover any  intelligible  cause  for  their  occurrence,  creates 
distrust  in  them.  The  theory  of  divine  origin  is  absurd, 
because  in  addition  to  its  irrationality,  one  observes 
that   these  dreams  do  not  come   to   the   best  and  wisest, 

4  but  to  all  sorts  of  men.  But  when  their  divine  causa- 
tion is  excluded,  there  is  no  other  reasonable  origin  that 
one  can  assign.  For  it  seems  to  transcend  our  power 
of  understanding  to  discover  an  explanation  of  the  story 
that  certain  persons  foretell  the  future  through  legends 
on  the  pillars  of  Hercules  or  on  the  Borysthenes.     Dreams, 

5  taken  either  in  their  entirety,  or  partially,  or  singly, 
must    then    be   causes   or    signs   of   events,  or    else    they 

6  must  be  accidental  phenomena.  '  Cause '  I  understand 
in  the  sense  of  the  moon's  being  the  cause  of  the  sun's 
eclipse,1  and  fatigue  being  the  cause  of  fever ;  by  '  sign ' 
I  mean  e.g.  that  a  sign  of  an  eclipse  is  a  star's  becoming 
visible  in  daylight  or  the  roughness  of  the  tongue  in 
fever ;  by  an  '  accidental  phenomenon '  I  mean  e.g.  that 
an   eclipse  of  the    sun   happens  while  one   is   takiug   a 

463  a  walk.      For   taking    a    walk    is    neither   sign    nor    cause 
of   an  eclipse,    neither   is    an   eclipse   the    sign    or  cause 

7  of   taking  a  walk.      Consequently   no  accidental   pheno- 

xCf.  Anal.  post.  986  1,  99a  1  ff.  Cause  contains  inherently  the 
explanation  of  a  result ;  sign  is  merely  a  concomitant  or  a  precursor, 
and  has  only  an  accidental  relation  to  the  result. 


chap.  i.  PROPHETIC   DREAMS  249 

menon  takes  place  constantly  or  even  as  a  rule.  Is 
it,  then,  possible  that  some  dreams  are  causes  and  others 
signs,  e.g.  of  physical  events?  Well-educated  physicians, 
at  any  rate,  say  that  we  should  pay  close  attention  to 
dreams.  And  this  view  is  also  regarded  as  reasonable 
by  laymen  who  are  investigators  and  philosophers.  For 
the  psychical  movements  that  occur  by  day,  unless  they  8 
are  very  full  and  vigorous,  are  unnoticed  when  they  are 
experienced  along  with  greater  waking  excitations.  In 
sleep,  however,  the  reverse  is  true.  For  then  the 
trivial  movements  seem  to  be  the  important  ones,  as  9 
is  apparent  from  frequently  observed  facts  regarding 
sleep.  When  slight  noises  fall  upon  the  ear  one  thinks 
it  lightens  and  thunders,  and  when  a  bit  of  mucus 
flows  into  the  mouth  one  thinks  one  is  tasting  the 
sweet  flavour  of  honey,  and  when  a  very  slight  heat 
is  felt  in  any  member  one  thinks  one  is  walking  through 
fire  and  is  fever-hot.  But  when  one  awakes  one  dis-  ic 
covers  the  real  facts.  Since,  then,  all  beginnings  are 
small,  it  is  evident  that  the  beginning  of  disease  and 
other  bodily  affections  on  the  point  of  development  will 
be  small,  and  these  necessarily  show  themselves  more 
in  sleep  than  in  the  waking  state.  Yet  it  is  really  u 
not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  certain  sleeping  fancies 
are  causes  of  actions  peculiar  to  the  individual.  For 
when  we  are  on  the  point  of  doing  something  or  are 
in  the  midst  of  it  or  have  accomplished  it,  it  frequently 
happens  that  we  are  occupied  and  busy  with  the  same 
thing  in  a  distinct  dream  (the  explanation  of  which  is 
that  the  dream  movement  has  been  already  started 
from  origins  in   the  day's  activity);  and   as  this  is  true, 


250  aristotle's  psychology  dedivin. 

so  the  converse  must  be  true,  viz.  that  the  movements 
in  sleep  are  often  the  starting  points  for  the  activities 
of  the  day,  because  the  thought  for  the  latter  is  already 

12  started  on  its  way  in  our  nocturnal  fancies.  In  this 
sense,  therefore,  certain  dreams  may  be  signs  and  causes. 
But  most  prophetic  dreams  are  things  of  chance,  especi- 

463  b  ally  all  those  that  transcend  us  and  whose  origination 
is  not  in  our  power,  as  e.g.  a  naval  battle  and  remote 
events.  The  situation  here  is  just  like  that  of  a  man 
who  thinks  of  a  thing  and  in  that  instant  the  thing 
appears.  For  what  is  there  to  prevent  this  being  also 
true   of    dreams  ?      It    is    even   more   likely    that   many 

13  accidents  of  this  sort  should  occur  here.  Just  as,  in 
the  former  case,  thinking  of  a  thing  is  neither  sign 
nor  cause  of  the  thing's  appearing,  so  here  the  beholder's 
dream  is  neither  sign  nor  cause  of  the  event,  but  only 
accident.  Consequently  most  dreams  do  not  come  true. 
For  chance  is  that  which  occurs  neither  constantly  nor 
even  as  a  rule. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Since  other  animals1  than  man  have  dreams,  one  may 
say,  in  a  word,  that  dreams  are  not  sent  from  God  and 
do  not  occur  for  his  ends.  They  are,  however,  daemonic. 
For  their  nature  is  daemonic,  but  not  divine.  This  is  2 
proven  by  the  fact  that  very  ordinary  men  have  pro- 
phetic visions  and  true  dreams,  showing  that  God  does 
not  send  them  ;  but  such  men  as  have  a  loquacious  and 
atrabilious  nature  see  all  sorts  of  visions.  And  because 
these  excitations  are  many  and  diversified  they  chance 
upon  thoughts  which  correspond  with  reality,  hitting 
the  right  thing  here  just  as  one  sometimes  hits  in  the 
game  of  "  Odd  and  Even." 2  For  in  this  instance  the 
proverb  applies :  "  Who  often  shoots  will  sometimes  hit." 

1  "  Quippe  videbis  equos  fortis,  cum  membra  iacebunt, 
In  somnis  sudare  tamen  spirareque  semper 
Et  quasi  de  palma  summas  contendere  viris, 
Aut  quasi  carceribus  patefactis 
Venantumque  canes  in  molli  saepe  quiete 
Iactant  crura  tamen  subito  vocisque  repente 
Mittunt  et  crebro  redducunt  naribus  auras." 

— Lucretius,  De  rev.  nat.  iv.  987  ff. 

2  Read  Bekker's  conjecture  apTiafyvTes  instead  of  apna  fxepi^ovres. 
251 


252  aristotle's  psychology  dedivin. 

3  That  many  dreams  do  not  come  true  is  not  strange.  For 
even  the  signs  in  physical  and  heavenly  processes,  such 
as  the  signs  of  rain  and  wind,  often  fail.  For  if  another 
movement  sets  in  which  is  stronger  than  the  one  indicated, 
the  indicated  event  does  not  take  place.    Also  many  well- 

4  matured  plans  of  what  ought  to  be  done  fail  of  execution, 
because  other  more  important  motives  arise.  For  not 
every  expected  event  occurs,  and  one  must  not  identify 
the  future  with  the  expected.1  Nevertheless  one  must 
say  that  there  are  certain  causes  to  which  this  lack  of 
fulfilment    is    due,    and    these    are    natural    signs   of   the 

5  non-occurrence   of  the   given   events. 

In  regard  to  dreams  which  are  not  due  to  such  origins 
464  a  as  we  have  mentioned,  but  to  origins  that  either  in  point 
of  time,  place,  or  magnitude  are  extraordinary,  or  which 
are  not  to  be  described  in  this  way  at  all,  and  yet  the 
dreamer  does  not  have  in  himself  the  cause — in  these 
cases,  unless  the  prophetic  character  is  accidental,  it 
would  be  better  to  explain  such  foresight  in  the  following 
way,  rather  than  in  the  way  employed  by  Democritus,2 

1  'Ecrofxevov  signifies  the  future  absolutely  and  fieXXov  the  future  con- 
tingently.   Cf.  De  gen.  et  corr.  3376  6. 

2  Democritus  explains  dreams  by  the  same  principles — images  and 
effluxes — that  he  employs  in  the  explanation  of  sensation.  The  images 
(ei'SwXa,  simulacra)  thrown  off  by  things  are  complexes  of  atoms,  which 
represent  not  merely  the  form,  but  also  the  inner  qualities  of  things. 
They  are  the  things  in  miniature,  and  are  capable  of  conveying  psychical 
processes,  as  well  as  physical  features,  from  one  person  to  another. 
Mind  has  an  atomic  composition,  and  it  is  owing  to  this  fact  that  the 
opinions  and  feelings  of  friends  are  conveyed  to  us  by  their  dream- 
images.  Prior  to  Aristotle  almost  all  philosophers,  like  Democritus, 
sought  for  an  explanation  of  dreams  outside  the  dreamer,  dominated,  as 
they  were,  in  greater  or  less  degree  by  contemporary  superstition.  Cf. 
Cicero,  De  divinat.  i.  43  ;  Plutarch,  De  plac.  phil.  v.  2,  Quaest.  con. 
viii.  10. 


chap.  ii.  POWER   OF   PREVISION  253 

who  explains  them  by  images  and  effluxes.  Just  as  when  6 
water  or  air  is  stirred,  the  stirred  part  sets  another  part 
in  motion,  and  after  this  has  come  to  rest  a  similar 
motion  is  continued  up  to  a  certain  point,  even  in  the 
absence  of  the  moving  agent,  so  nothing  prevents  a 
certain  movement  and  sensation  from  reaching  the  soul  in 
sleep,  produced  by  those  objects  from  which  Democritus 
says  images  and  effluxes  are  thrown  off.  And  these 
movements,  reaching  the  soul  in  some  way  or  other,  are 
more  distinctly  felt  at  night,  because  they  are  more 
readily  dissipated  when  they  enter  by  day  (for  the  night 
air  is  less  apt  to  be  disturbed  owing  to  the  calmer  nature 
of  night),  and  they  awaken  sensation  in  the  body  on 
account  of  sleep,  for  persons  when  asleep  detect  slight 
internal  processes  more  sharply  than  when  awake.  These  7 
movements  awaken  fancies,  out  of  which  one  foresees  the 
future  in  events  similar  to  the  fancies.  This  power  of 
prevision,  then,  occurs  in  any  ordinary  person,  and  not  in 
the  wisest.  For  if  prevision  were  sent  of  God,  it  would  8 
come  by  day  and  to  the  wise.  In  this  manner,  however, 
it  is  reasonable  that  prevision  comes  to  ordinary  men. 
For  the  minds  of  such  persons  are  not  given  to  careful 
thought,  but  are,  as  it  were,  reft  and  empty  of  all  content, 
and  when  stimulated  they  follow  the  lead  of  the  moving 
agent.  The  reason  why  certain  persons  afflicted  with  9 
ecstatic  mania  have  prevision  is  that  their  own  excitations 
do  not  distract  them,  but  are  rather  thrown  off  by  them, 
and,  therefore,  they  have  especial  perception  of  processes 
foreign  to  them.  That  some  persons  have  true  dreams,  10 
and  that  familiar  acquaintances  have  prevision  especially 
regarding  each  other,  conies  from  the  fact  that  acquaint- 


254  aristotle's  psychology  dedi™. 

ances  concern  themselves  most  about  each  other.  For  just 
as  it  is  most  true  of  intimate  friends  that  they  recognize 
and  see  each  other  at  a  distance  better  than  others  do,  so 
it  is  also  with  these  movements.      For  the  movements  of 

ii  acquaintances  are  more  easily  recognized.  The  atrabilious, 
like  long-distance  throwers,  owing  to  the  vehemence  of 
their  natures,  hit  their  aim.  And  owing  to  their  mobile 
464  b  disposition  they  have  a  quick  fancy  for  sequence.  For  as 
Philaegides1  in  his  poems  and  insane  persons  recite  and 
think  out  sequences  that  depend  on  similarity,  as  illus- 

12  trated  in  the  song  of  Aphrodite,  so  these  dreamers  string 
together  a  series  of  events.  For  owing  to  their  passionate 
nature  they  are  not  swerved  aside  by  extraneous  move- 
ments. 

The  most  skilful  interpreter  of  dreams  is  he  who 
can  discern  resemblances.  For  a  plain  dream  can  be 
interpreted  by  anybody.  By  resemblances  I  mean, 
as     I    said     before,    that    the    pictures    of    imagination 

*3  are  very  like  pictures  in  the  water.  In  the  latter, 
when  the  movement  is  violent,  the  reflection  and 
picture  bear  no  resemblance  to  the  reality.  And  so  a 
clever  interpreter  is  one  who  can  quickly  distinguish 
and  see  at  a  glance  in  the  confused  and  distorted 
picture  the  suggestion  of  a  man,  or  horse,  or  whatever 

J4  the  given  object  may  be.  And  as  the  picture  in  the 
water,   so    the    dream    can    be    similarly    distorted,   for 

1  Philaegides  is  an  unknown  poet.  Leonicus  (quoted  by  Barthelemy- 
St.-Hilaire,  Comment,  ad  loc.)  conjectures  Philaenis,  a  Greek  poetess 
of  Leucas,  contemporary  of  the  sophist  Polycrates,  to  whom  an 
obscene  poem  on  Love  was  ascribed.  Michael  of  Ephesus  {Comment. 
ad  loc.  fol.  1527,  p.  48)  repeats  the  name  Philaegides,  as  given  in  the 
text. 


chap.  ii.  INTERPRETATION   OF   DREAMS  255 

movement  destroys  the  distinctness  of  dreams.  We 
have  now  explained  the  nature  of  sleep  and  dreams, 
and  have  given  the  cause  of  their  occurrence,  and  have 
further  explained  the  entire  subject  of  divination  by 
means  of  them. 


ON    LONGEVITY  AND   SHORTNESS 
OF  LIFE. 

CHAPTER    I. 

We1  must  now  inquire  into  the  causes  why  some 
animals  live  long  and  others  only  a  short  time,  and 
into  the   general  subject  of  longevity  and   shortness   of 

2  life.  The  initial  point  in  our  inquiry  must  be  the 
stating  of  certain  preliminary  problems  touching  these 
phenomena.  For  it  is  not  clear  whether  or  not  the 
cause  of  longevity  and  shortness  of  life  is  the  same  in 
animals    and    plants.       Some    plants    are    annuals,    and 

3  others  attain  great  age.  Further,  one  may  ask  whether 
amongst  the  creatures  of  nature  the  long-lived  and  the 
naturally  healthy  are  identical.  Or  is  shortness  of  life 
to  be  kept  distinct  from  questions  of  disease  ?  Or  is  it 
true  that  some  diseases  cause  the  body  whose  nature  is 
affected,  to  be  short  lived,  while  other  diseases  in  no  wise 
prevent  long  life  ? 

1 1  have  removed  the  brackets  from  the  passage  4646  19-30,  being 
unable  to  see  any  good  reason  for  following  Biehl  in  regarding  it  as 
an  interpolation. 

256 


chap.  i.  THE   TENURE   OF   LIFE  257 

Eegarding    sleeping    and    waking    we    have    already  4 
spoken,   and   we   must    later   on    treat   the    subjects    of 
life  and  death,  and  likewise  disease  and  health,  so  far 
as   they  fall  within  the   province  of  the  philosophy  of 
nature.       At   present   we   have   to    consider,    as   already  465  « 
said,1  the  causes  of  longevity  and  shortness  of  life.     This 
distinction  of  longevity  marks  entire  genera  in  comparison 
with  others,  and  again  it  marks  certain  members  of  one 
species  in  comparison  with  other  members.      By  this   I  5 
mean  there  is  a  generic  difference  in  longevity  applicable 
e.g.  to  man  and  horse  (for  the  genus  man  is  longer  lived 
than  the  genus  horse),  and  again  within  the  species  one 
man  is  longer  lived  than  another.     For  some  men  are 
long    lived    and    others    short    lived,    according    to    the 
districts     they    inhabit.       Nations     that     inhabit    warm 
countries  live  longer ;  the  inhabitants  of  cold  countries 2  6 
are  less  long  lived.      And  amongst  those  that  inhabit  the 
the    same    locality    there   are   also    between    individuals 
differences  in  this  respect. 

1  Retain  the  reading  Kada-rrep,  k.t.X.  (465a  2)  bracketed  by  Biehl. 

2  This  statement  is  not  borne  out  by  statistics,  at  least  under 
present  conditions.  Nevertheless  the  statement  may  have  been 
correct  in  Aristotle's  time.  Inasmuch  as  the  North  Countries  were 
then  inhabited  by  people  of  inferior  civilization,  it  is  likely  that 
the  period  of  life  was  less  than  it  is  now  under  conditions  of  higher 
civilization.  The  more  civilized  races  protect  the  aged,  and  so 
contribute  to  longevity,  besides  being  generally  better  equipped  with 
means  and  methods  for  self-preservation.  Cf.  Lankester,  Comparative 
Longevity,  p.  107  ff.  ;  Van  Oven,  Decline  of  Life  in  Health  and  Disease, 
pp.  60,  61. 


CHAPTER   II. 

We  must  understand  what  is  easily  destroyed  in  natural 
structures  and  what  is  destroyed  with  difficulty.  Fire 
and  water  and  other  elements  akin  to  them,  without 
having  their  power,  are,  in  their  reciprocal  action,  the 
causes  of  generation  and  decay.  Consequently,  everything 
else,  one  may  reasonably  suppose,  that  is  derived  from  or 
composed  of  these  elements,  shares  in  their  nature,  except- 
ing such  things  as  are  artificially  composed  of  a  great 

2  many  parts,  like  a  house.  The  discussion  of  these  other 
elements  does  not  belong  here.  Many  things  are  subject 
to  destruction  from  causes  peculiar  to  themselves,  as  e.g. 
knowledge,  health,  and  disease.  For  these  are  destroyed 
when  the  things  of  which  they  are  qualities  are  not 
destroyed  but  survive,  e.g.  the  agency  which  destroys 
ignorance  is  recollection  and  learning;  the  agency  which 
destroys   knowledge   is    forgetfulness   and    error.      Acci- 

3  dentally,  the  destruction  of  other  properties  goes  hand 
in  hand  with  the  destruction  of  the  natural  body.  For 
when  animals  are  destroyed  the   knowledge  and  health 

4  that  are  in  them  are  also  destroyed.  From  this  one 
might   draw   a    conclusion   regarding   the   soul.      For  if 

258 


chap.  ii.  CAUSES    OF    DESTRUCTION  259 

the  soul  is  not  in  the  body  by  natural  growth,  but  is 
there  just  as  knowledge  is  in  the  soul,  then  it  would  be 
exposed  to  another  destroying  agency  in  addition  to  that 
to  which  it  is  liable  in  the  destruction  of  the  body. 
But  this  does  not  appear  to  be  the  case;  the  relation 
between  soul  and  body  must  be  differently  understood. 


CHAPTEE    III. 

465  £  Perhaps  one  might  reasonably  ask  the  question :  Is 
there  any  place  where  the  perishable  is  imperishable,  as 
in  the  case  of  fire  in  the  Empyrean,  which  is  subject 
to  no  opposing  influence ;  for  the  properties  that  attach 
to  opposites  are  incidentally  destroyed  by  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  thing  itself.  For  opposites  destroy  one 
another.  No  opposite,  however,  which  belongs  to  sub- 
stance  is    incidentally    destroyed,   for   substance   is   not 

2  predicated  of  any  subject.  Consequently,  in  whatsoever 
thing  there  is  no  principle  of  opposition,  and  where  there 
is  no  such  principle,  there  can  be  no  destruction.  For 
what  is  there  to  work  destruction,  if  destruction  is 
effected  exclusively  by  opposites  ?  But  there  is  no  op- 
position present,  either  absolutely  or  in  any  particular 
part.  Or  is  this  true  in  one  sense  and  in  another  false  ? 
For   whatever   has   matter   cannot  avoid   being  in  some 

3  sense  subject  to  opposition.  It  can  be  everywhere  hot 
or  straight,  but  it  cannot  be  in  its  entirety  hot  or 
straight  or  white.  For  these  qualities  would  then  be 
separate  entities.  Whenever  the  active  and  passive 
come    together,   if    the   one   always   acts    and  the  other 

4  is  always  acted  upon,  change  must  take  place.      Further. 

260 


chap.  in.  PRINCIPLES   OF   DESTRUCTION  261 

if  change  necessarily  produces  a  residue,  then  residue 
involves  opposition.  For  change  is  always  the  result 
of  opposition,  and  residue  is  that  which  remains  from  a 
state  prior  to  change.  But  if  the  actually  opposed  were 
entirely  excluded,  a  thing  would,  in  this  case,  be  im- 
perishable.1 Or  is  this  untrue,  but  a  thing  in  this  event 
would  be  destroyed  by  its  environment  ?  If  this  happens,  5 
then  the  above  explanation  is  adequate.2  If  the  destruc- 
tion is  not  so  produced,  one  must  suppose  there  is  an 
actual  inherent  opposition  in  the  thing,  and  that  a 
residue  is  produced.  For  this  reason  the  lesser  flame 
is  incidentally  consumed  by  the  larger  one,  because  the 
food  which  the  smaller  one  consumes  in  a  long  time 
in  the  form  of  smoke,  is  consumed  by  the  larger  one 
quickly.  And  so  everything  is  in  constant  motion, 
constantly  coming  into  existence  and  passing  out  of 
existence.  And  the  environment  either  assists  or  opposes.  6 
Constantly  changing  things  may  last  a  longer  or  a 
shorter  time  than  their  own  nature  prescribes,  but 
nothing  lasts  for  ever,  where  opposites  exist.  For  at 
the  very  start,  matter  contains  in  itself  the  principles 
of  opposition,  so  that  if  one  employs  the  category  of 
place,  spatial  change  is  involved ;  if  one  employs  the 
category  of  quantity,  we  have  changes  of  growth  and 
decay ;  if  one  employs  passivity,  then  qualitative  change.3 

1  That  is,  if  the  principle  of  opposition  were  excluded  there  would  be  no 
change,  and  if  there  were  no  change,  a  thing  would  be  indestructible. 

2  The  environment,  in  that  case,  would  supply  the  principle  of 
opposition,  and  so  the  dogma  of  "no  opposition,  no  destruction" 
would  remain  unchallenged. 

3In  other  words,  the  whole  of  the  terrestrial  world  is  subject  to 
corruptibility  and  change  (Metaph.  1035a  25,  10696  24;  De  coelo 
283a  30). 


CHAPTEE    IV. 

466  a  Neither  are  the  largest  creatures  less  exposed  to  de- 
struction than  others  (for  the  horse  is  shorter  lived  than 
man),  nor  the  small  animals  (for  many  insects  live  only 
a  year),  nor,  in  general,  are  plants  longer  lived  than 
animals  (for  some  plants  are  annuals),  nor  are  sanguineous 
animals,  by  virtue  of  their  being  sanguineous,  long  lived 
(for  bees  live  longer  than  do  certain  sanguineous 
animals),  neither  are  the  bloodless  animals,  as  such, 
long  lived  (for  molluscs,  which  are  bloodless,  live  only  a 
year),  nor  land  animals  (for  there  are  both  plants  and 
land  animals  that  live  only  a  year),  nor  sea  animals  (for 
2  the  crustaceans  and  molluscs  are  short  lived).  On  the 
whole,  the  longest  lived  organisms  are  found  amongst 
plants,  an  example  of  which  is  the  palm.1  Next  the 
sanguineous  live  longer  than  the  bloodless  animals,  and 
the  land  animals  longer  than  those  that  live  in  water.2 

1  Apart  from  the  age  attained  by  man,  and  by  certain  insects  and 
plants,  little  is  accurately  known  about  the  longevity  of  organisms 
(Lankester,  op.  cit.  p.  12). 

2  Dr.  Gunther  (quoted  by  Lankester,  op.  cit.  p.  13)  says  :  "There  is 
scarcely  anything  positive  known  of  the  age  and  causes  of  death  of 
various  fishes,"  but  cases  are  reported  of  carp  attaining  the  age  of  150 

262 


chap.  iv.  DURATION   OF   LIFE  263 

So  that  the  longest  lived  animals  are  those  where  we 
find  the  combined  marks  of  having  blood  and  living  on 
the  land,  as  instanced  in  man  and  the  elephant.1  It  is  a  3 
rule  also  that  the  larger  animals  are  longer  lived  than 
the  smaller  ones.  And  this  characteristic  of  size  applies 
to  other  examples  of  longest  lived  animals,  as  well  as 
to  the   instances   cited. 

years,  and  pike  267  years  (!)  and  elephants  are  reported  to  have  lived  as 
long  as  500  years  {ib.  p.  59),  but  the  statements  are  not  properly 
authenticated.  Trees  are  reported  to  have  attained  ages  ranging  from 
335  years  (Elm)  to  3200  years  (Yew),  and  even  to  above  4000  years 
(Taxodium).  In  the  Popular  Science  Monthly  (vol.  ii.  p.  250)  the  story 
is  told  of  a  carp  killed  at  Chantilly  aged  475  years.  Weismann  says 
that  large  trees  have  the  longest  life  of  all  organisms  in  the  world,  and 
the  "largest  animals  also  attain  the  greatest  age  .  .  .  and  it  would  not 
be  difficult  to  construct  a  descending  series  of  animals,  in  which  the 
duration  of  life  diminishes  in  almost  exact  proportion  to  the  decrease 
in  the  size  of  the  body."  Essays  upon  Heredity,  Eng.  Tr.,  p.  6.  A 
general  rule  such  as  this  would,  of  course,  have  many  exceptions,  as  e.g. 
in  the  case  of  the  eagle  and  horse,  the  former  being  inferior  in  size  but 
superior  in  longevity. 

1  Aristotle  reports  the  age  of  an  elephant  at  200  years,  or,  according 
to  another  report,  at  120  years,  for  his  statement  is  made  only  on 
hearsay  (ol  \xkv  0a<n,  Hist.  anim.  6306  23). 


CHAPTEK  V. 

The  cause  of  all  this  might  be  discovered  in  the  following 
facts.  One  must  understand  that  an  animal  is  by 
nature  moist  and  warm,  and  life  is  also  moist  and 
warm,  whereas  old  age  is  dry  and  cold,  and  so  is  death. 
And  this  is  plain  to  observation.  The  matter  in  living 
bodies  has   these   qualities  of  warm   and  cold,  dry  and 

2  moist.  As  beings  grow  old  they  must  then  dry  up,  and 
so  the  moist  should  be  constituted  in  such  way  as  not  to 
dry  up  easily.  Now,  fatty  elements  do  not  readily 
decay.  The  reason  is  that  they  contain  air,  and  air 
compared  with  other  elements  is  fire.  But  fire  is  not 
subject  to  decay.  The  amount  of  moisture  should  not 
be    small,   for    a    small    amount    is    quickly    dried    out. 

3  Consequently,  larger  animals  and  plants  are,  as  a  rule, 
longer  lived  than  others,  as  we  said  before.  For  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  larger  creatures  possess  a 
greater  supply  of  moisture.  But  it  is  not  merely  for 
this  reason  that  they  are  longer  lived,  for  there  are  two 
causes  of  long  life,  a  quantitative  and  qualitative  cause- 
Consequently,  there  must  not  merely  be  a  certain  quantity 

of  moisture  present,  but  this  must  also  be  warm,  in  order 

264 


chap.  v.  CAUSES   OF   LONG   LIFE  265 

that  it  be  not  easily  congealed  or  dried  up.      It  is  for  4 
this  reason  that  man  is  longer  lived  than  certain  larger 
animals.     For  animals  that  are  defective  in  the  mass  of 
moisture  are  longer  lived,  provided   their   excess  in  the  466  £ 
quality  of  this  moisture  is  relatively  greater  than  their 
defect    in    its    quantity.       Some    animals   have    an    oily, 
warmth,  in   consequence   of  which  their  moisture  is  not 
easily  dried  up  or  chilled.     Others  again  have  a  moisture  of 
a  different  sort.      Further,  whatever  is  meant  to  be  difficult  5 
to  destroy  should  not  throw  off  much  residue.     For  this, 
whether  it  be  due  to  disease   or  to   nature,  destroys   a 
thing.      Eesidue  has  the  significance  of  opposition  and  is 
destructive  of  a  thing   either  in  its    entire   nature   or  in 
some   part   of  it.       Consequently,  salacious   animals   and 
such   as    abound   in   seed    age    quickly.       For   seed  is  a 
residue  and  when  it  is  thrown  off  produces  dryness.      For  6 
this  reason  a  mule  lives    longer  than  a   horse  or  an  ass, 
and  women  live  longer  than  men,  in  cases  where  men  are 
lascivious.     And  so  male  sparrows  are  shorter  lived  than 
females.      Further,  males   subjected    to  hard  labour   are 
short   lived,  and   on    account  of  toil   age  more  rapidly.1 
For  toil   produces  dryness,  and   old  age  is  dry.      In  the  7 
ordinary  course  of  nature,  and  taking  it   all  in  all,  men 
live  longer  than  women.2     The   reason    for   this  is   that 
the  male  is  a  warmer  animal  than  the  female.     The  same 

1  Excessive  expenditure  in  organic  metabolism  due  to  labour,  violent 
activity,  inordinate  eating,  etc.,  on  the  one  hand,  and  waste  in  pro- 
pagation on  the  other,  reduce  the  tenure  of  life. 

2  Statistics  show  that  females  have  a  longer  average  of  life  than 
males  (Lankester,  op.  cit.  p.  117).  A  writer  in  the  Saturday  Review 
(vol.  79,  p.  248)  shows  that  in  polygamous  races,  the  males  are  shorter 
lived  than  the  females. 


266  aristotle's  psychology      del.etb.vit. 

classes  of  animals  live  longer  in  a  warm  than  in  a  cold 
climate,  for   the    same    reason    that    the  larger  animals 

8  live  longer  than  smaller  ones.  Particularly  striking  in 
this  connection  is  the  size  of  the  naturally  cold  animals. 
So  snakes,  lizards,  and  rough-scaled  reptiles  found  in 
warm  localities  and  the  testacea  of  the  Eed  Sea  attain  a 
great  size.     For  warm  moisture  is   the  cause  of  growth 

9  and  life.  In  cold  districts  animal  moisture  is  more 
watery  and  consequently  easily  congealed,  so  that 
animals  with  little  or  no  blood,  whether  their  habitation 
is  the  land  or  water,  do  not  occur  at  all  in  the  northern 
regions,  or   if  they  occur   they  are    smaller  and  shorter 

io  lived.  For  frost  impedes  growth.  Both  plants  and 
animals  perish  when  they  get  no  nourishment,  for  then 
they  consume  themselves.  Just  as  a  larger  con- 
sumes and  destroys  a  smaller  flame  by  using  up  its 
food,  so  the  natural  warmth,  whose  primary  function  is 
digestion,  consumes    the    matter   in    which    it  is    found, 

ii  Aquatic  animals  are  shorter  lived  than  land  animals,  not 
because  they  are  moist  unqualifiedly,  but  because  they 
467  a  are  watery.  Moisture  of  this  sort  is  very  perishable, 
because  it  is  cold  and  easily  congealed.  For  the  same 
reason  the  bloodless  animal  is  very  perishable,  unless  it 
is  protected  by  great  size,  because  it  contains  no  oily  or 
sweet  element.  I  say  sweet,  for  animal  fat  is  sweet. 
Consequently  bees  are  longer  lived  than  other  animals 
that  are  larger. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

It  is  amongst  plants  that  we  find  the  longest  lived 
organisms,  and  these  attain  a  higher  age  than  animals,  in 
the  first  place  because  they  are  less  watery  and  therefore 
not  easily  congealed.  Secondly,  they  contain  a  viscous 
oily  substance,  and  therefore,  although  they  are  dry  and 
earthy,  they  nevertheless  possess  a  moisture  which  is  not 
easily  dried  out.  We  must  now  find  an  explanation  for  2 
the  great  age  attained  by  trees.  For  a  peculiar  explan- 
ation applies  to  them  which  does  not  apply  to  animals, 
excepting  insects.  This  peculiarity  is  that  plants  con- 
stantly renew  themselves  and  so  attain  great  age.  For 
new  shoots  are  put  forth  from  time  to  time  and  others 
grow  old.  And  the  same  thing  is  true  of  the  roots. 
But  this  renewal  does  not  take  place  in  all  parts  at  3 
once ;  sometimes  only  the  trunk  and  branches  die  and 
others  grow  up  alongside  of  them.  And  when  this 
happens  other  roots  spring  from  the  remaining  part.  And 
so  it  continues,  one  part  passing  out  of  existence  and 
another  part  coming  into  being.  Consequently,  they  live  4 
long.  Plants  have  a  resemblance  to  insects,  as  already 
said.     For  life  continues  when  they  are  divided,  and  out 

267 


268  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY       del.  etb.  vit. 

of  one  insect  or  plant  two  or  several  are  produced. 
Divided  insects,  however,  reach  merely  to  the  state  of 
living,  but  are  not  able  to  continue  long  in  life.  For 
they  have  no  organs,  and  the  principle  of  life  in  the 
single  part  has  no  power  to  develop  an  organ.  This 
principle  in  the  plant,  on  the  contrary,  has  the  power  of 
developing  organs,  for  it  contains  in  every  case  both  root 

5  and  stem  potentially.  Consequently,  the  new  and  the 
ageing  branch  keep  growing  from  this,  differing  little  in 
their  length  of  life,  just  as  it  is  with  grafts.  In  the 
grafting  of  shoots,  one  would  say  that  in  a  certain  sense 
this  same  process  occurs,  for  the  shoot  is  part  of  a 
plant.  In  the  grafting  of  shoots,  however,  the  conti- 
nuity of  life  occurs  in  a  state  of  separation  from  the 
mother    plant,   while   in   the   other   cases  the   lives   are 

6  conjoined.  The  reason  is  that  the  inherent  potential 
principle  in  the  plant  is  all-pervasive. 

There  is,  however,  a  point  of  identity  between  animals 
and  plants.  In  animals  the  males  are,  as  a  rule,  longer 
lived  than  the  females.  For  their  upper  parts  are  larger 
than  the  lower  ones  (the  male  is  more  dwarflike1  than 
the  female) ;  the  warm  element  is  found   in  the  upper 

7  parts   and   cold    in   the   lower   ones.      Also  plants  with 
467  b  large  roots  are  longer  lived  than  the  others.     Annuals 

are  not  of  this  kind,  but  trees  are.  For  the  upper  part 
and  head  of  a  plant  is  the  root,  but  annuals  have  their 
main   growth   towards   the   lower2  parts   and   the   fruit. 

8  These  questions  will  be  examined  in  detail  in  the  treatise 

1  That  is  they  have  larger  heads  and  shoulders. 

2  Viz.  towards  the  branches,  which  are  analogous  to  the  lower  parts 
of  man. 


chap.  vi.  COMPARATIVE    LONGEVITY  269 

On  Plants.1  For  the  present  we  have  explained  the 
cause  of  longevity  and  shortness  of  life  in  animals. 
There  remain  for  our  consideration  the  subjects  of 
Youth  and  Old  Age,  Life  and  Death.  And  after  these 
have  been  investigated,  our  treatise  on  animals 2  will 
have  been  finished. 

1  The  two  books  of  Aristotle  (Hist.  an.  539a  20,  De  gen.  an.  716a.  1), 
trepl  <f)VTwv,  appear  to  have  been  still  in  existence  at  the  time  of 
Herfnippus,  but  to  have  been  finally  supplanted  by  the  completer  work 
of  Theophrastus  on  the  same  subject.  Cf.  Zeller,  Philosophic  d.  Griech. 
Th.  II.  Abth.  ii.  3te.  Aufl.  p.  98. 

2  Owing  to  this  statement  Brandis  (Handbuch  d.  Geschichte  d.  Philos. 
p.  1192,  93)  thinks  that  only  the  first  five  tractates  of  the  Parva 
naturalia  were  written  immediately  after  the  De  anima,  while  the 
three  following  (viz.  On  Longevity  and  Shortness  of  Life,  On  Youth 
and  Old  Age,  and  On  Respiration)  were  written  after  the  completion  of 
the  treatises  on  Zoology.  There  is  no  reason  why  this  should  not  be 
true,  although  proofs  from  cross-references  in  Aristotle's  writings  are 
never  very  cogent  for  their  chronology,  such  references  being  often  a 
later  addition.  It  frequently  happens  that  the  treatise  X  cites  the 
treatise  Y,  and  the  treatise  Y  cites  the  treatise  X,  such  additions  and 
references  (particularly  when  at  the  beginning  or  end  of  a  work)  being 
added  often  by  an  editorial  hand.  The  Topics,  e.g.  quotes  the 
Analytics  [Top.  162a  11,  165b  8),  and  is  quoted  by  the  A nalytics  (A n. 
prot.  246  12,  64a  37,  65&  16). 


ON  YOUTH  AND  OLD  AGE,  AND  ON  LIFE 
AND  DEATH. 

CHAPTER  I. 

We  must  now  treat  of  youth  and  old  age,  and  of  life  and 
death.  At  the  same  time  it  may  be  necessary  to  explain 
the  causes  and  conditions  of  respiration.  For  in  some 
animals1   life  and  death  are  conditioned  by    respiration. 

2  We  have  elsewhere  treated  more  precisely  of  the  soul, 
and  it  is  clear  that  its  ultimate  nature  cannot  be  corporeal, 
although  it  has  its  seat  evidently  in  some  part  of  the 
body,  and  in  some  part,  too,  that  has  a  higher  importance 
amongst  the  body's  members.2    For  the  present  we  must 

3  dismiss  the  other  parts  or  powers  of  the  soul  (whatever 
may  be  the  proper  term  to  apply3  to  them).    In  regard  to 

1  Only  animals  endowed  with  lungs  or  analogous  organ  may  be  said 
to  respire.  The  employment  of  water  by  fishes  serves  a  similar  purpose 
(refrigeration  or  regulation  of  temperature),  but  is  not  respiration.  In 
such  animals  as  respire,  life  and  death  are  conditioned  by  the  perform- 
ance of  this  function. 

2  In  the  heart. 

3Cf.  De  an.  414a  30  ff.,  433fr  1,  415a  25,  416a  20. 

270 


chap.  i.  LIFE    AND    SENSATION  271 

creatures  that  are  termed  animals  and  have  life,  in  cases 
where  they  are  endowed  with  both  attributes — I  mean 
with  animality  and  life — it  must  be  that  the  principle 
whereby  they  live,  and  by  virtue  of  which  they  are  called 
animal,  should  be   one    and  the  same    part.1      For  it  is  4 
impossible   for   an  animal    as    animal   not   to   have   life. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  thing  to  be 
an  animal  because  it  has  life.     For  plants  live,  and  yet 
they  have  no  sensation,  and  it  is  in  terms  of  sensation 
that    we   distinguish   the    animal    from    the   non-animal. 
Numerically  they  are  one  and  the  same  part,  although  in 
their  mode  of  expression  they  are  manifold  and  different.2 
For  it  is  not  the  same  thing  to  be  an  animal  and  to  have 
life.      Since  amongst  our  sense-organs  there  is  one  which  5 
we   call  a  kind  of  '  common  sense,'  where  all  our  actual 
sensations  must  come  together,  this  '  common  sense '  must 
occupy  a  position  midway  between  what  we  call  the  anterior 
and  posterior  parts  of  the  body  (by  anterior3  is  meant  that 
which  is  situated  towards  the  region  of  sensation,  and  by 
posterior  that  which  is  situated  in  the  opposite  region). 
Furthermore,  since  in  all  living  organisms  the   body  is 
divided  into  an  upper  and  lower  half  (for  all  animals  as 
well  as  plants  have  an  upper  and  lower  part),  the  nutri- 
tive principle  should  evidently4  occupy  a  position  midway  468 * 

1  I.e.  nutrition  and  sensation  are  functions  of  one  life-principle. 

2  The  fundamental  mark  of  a  living  thing  is  the  power  of  nutrition  and 
propagation  ;  the  fundamental  mark  of  an  animal  is  sensation.  Both  of 
these  functions  in  the  animal  are  performed  by  the  central  organ. 

3 By  anterior  is  meant  upper,  i.e.  towards  the  region  of  the  senses, 
which  are  mainly  about  the  head. 

4  Aristotle  assumes  this,  of  course,  owing  to  his  teleological  view  of 
nature.     Nature  operates  in  the  way  that  is  best. 


272  aristotle's  psychology         dejuvent. 

between  them.  The  part  which  contains  the  organ  for 
admitting  food  is  called  the  upper  part,  and  we  use  the 
term  '  upper '  here  in  reference  to  the  body  itself  and  not 
in  reference  to  the  directions  of  the  surrounding  universe;1 
by  '  lower '  we  mean  the  part  whose   primary  function  is 

6  to  void  excrement.  In  this  connection  we  find  a  wide 
difference  between  plants  and  animals.  In  man  more 
than  in  any  of  the  other  animals,  owing  to  his  erect 
attitude,  we  find  the  upper  part  turned  towards  the  upper 
part  of  the  universe;  in  the  other  animals2  the  upper 
part  is  turned  in  a  direction  midway  between  the  upper 
and  lower  parts  of  the  universe  ;  in  plants,  which  are 
fixed  on  one  spot  and  draw  their  nourishment  from  the 
earth,  this  upper  part  must  in  every  case  have  a  down- 

7  ward  direction.  For  roots  in  plants  and  mouths  in 
animals  are  analogous  organs,  by  means  of  which  in 
the  one  case  food  is  derived  from  the  earth,  and  in 
the  case  of  animals  through  themselves.3 

1  Upper  in  reference  to  the  universe  signifies  the  direction  in  which 
flame  and  light  substances  move  (cf.  Phys.  200b  19,  Metaph.  1065??  13). 

2  Cf.  Sallust,  De  conjur.  Cat.  i. 

3  Animal  food  in  its  final  form  is,  in  Aristotle's  theory,  the  blood. 
Cf .  De  somno,  456a  34  ;  De  juvent.  469a.  1,  32  ;  De  part.  an.  678a  6. 


CHAPTEK   II. 

All  perfectly  developed  animals  are  analysable  into 
three  parts — one  for  the  admission  of  food,  a  second  for 
the  voiding  of  excrement,  and  a  third  midway  between 
these  two.  The  last  of  these  is  called  in  larger  animals 
the  chest,  and  in  the  smaller  some  equivalent  term 
is  used ; *  in  some  animals,  however,  it  is  more  clearly 
articulated  than  in  others.  Again,  such  animals  as  are  2 
capable  of  progressive  motion  have,  in  addition  to  the 
parts  mentioned,  other  organs  adapted  to  the  service  of 
movement  and  to  carrying  the  entire  trunk — as  legs, 
feet,  and  other  organs  that  have  the  same  function  as 
these.  The  nutritive  principle  of  the  soul  is  situated  in  3 
a  region  central  to  these  three  parts,  as  is  evident  both 
from  observation 2  and  reason.  In  fact  there  are  many 
animals  which,  after  one  or  the  other  part  has  been 
cut  off,  even   the  head  and  the  organ  for  seizing   food, 

1  The  general  thoracic  region. 

2  That  is,  on  empirical  and  a  priori  grounds.  If  this  central  situa- 
tion is  the  best  for  the  performance  of  functions  in  which  the  entire 
body  is  interested,  then  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose,  Aristotle  says,  that 
nature  has  placed  the  nutritive  principle  here. 

S  273 


274  aristotle's  psychology         dejuvent. 

continue  to   live   in   that  part  to  which    the  middle   is 

4  conjoined.  This  fact  may  be  plainly  observed  in  the 
case  of  insects,  such  as  wasps  and  bees.  Also  many 
animals  besides  insects,  when  cut  in  two,  can  continue 
to  live  by  the  functioning  of  the  nutritive  principle. 
This  nutritive  part  is  actually  unitary,  but  potentially 
multiple,  and  the  natural  construction  of  these  animals 
is  the  same  as  that  of  plants.  For  plants  after  they  are 
divided  continue  to  live  in  segments,  and  from  a  single 

5  origin  one  can  by  section  produce  several 1  trees.  Why  it 
is  that  some  plants  cannot  continue  life  after  section,  while 
others  can  be  propagated,  must  be  explained  elsewhere. 

468  3  jn  this  respect,  however,  plants  and  insects  as  a  class  are 
alike.  It  is  necessary  that  the  nutritive  principle  in 
those  living   things  that  possess  it 2   should  be  actually 

6  one,  though  potentially  multiple.  And  the  same  holds 
good  of  the  principle  of  sensation ;  for  the  segments 
evidently  have  sensation.  In  reference  to  the  main- 
tenance of  their  natural  life,  plants  ([when  divided])  are 
able  to  survive.  Animals  are  not,  for  they  lack  organs 
for  their  preservation,  wanting  in  some  instances  organs 
for  the  seizure  of  food,  and  in  others  for  receiving  it  into 
the  body,  and  in  other  instances  wanting  other  organs  in 

7  addition    to    both    of    these.       Such    divisible    animals 

1  In  the  lower  forms  of  animal  life,  as  in  vegetable  life,  organic 
functions  are  less  centralized  than  in  higher  orders.  In  all  of  them, 
however,  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  centralization,  and  even  in  insects 
life  continues  only  a  short  time  in  any  member  after  severance  from  the 
middle  segment.  Cf.  above,  467a  20 ;  Hist.  an.  5316  30  ff .  ; 
De  an.  4116  23. 

2  Ogle,  in  his  translation  of  this  tractate  (London,  1897,  p.  109) 
suggests  for  Zxovvlv,  hrbfiois.  Cf. ,  however,  479a  8,  where  we  have  the 
same  use  of  ro?s  '^xovcnv. 


chap.  ii.  UNITY    OF   LIFE-PRINCIPLE  275 

resemble  a  complex  of  several  creatures  grown  together. 
In  the  most  perfectly  organized  bodies,  however,  this 
phenomenon  is  not  found,  because  their  natures  have  been 
fashioned  into  the  greatest  possible  unity.  There  are 
always,  however,  certain  dissected  members  which  exhibit 
slight  sensation,  because  they  are  still  under  the  influence 
of  a  certain  psychical *  affection.  For  after  the  entrails 
have  been  removed,  bodily  movements  are  still  continued, 
as  one  observes  in  tortoises  after  the  removal  of  the 
heart. 

1  Aristotle  knew  nothing  of  the  nature  of  reflex-movements,  having 
no  knowledge  of  the  nervous  system  and  regarding  the  heart  and  not 
the  brain  as  the  centre  of  psychical  life.  James  {Principles, 
vol.  i.  p.  16)  cites  the  case  of  Robin,  who,  on  tickling  the  breast 
of  a  criminal  an  hour  after  decapitation,  saw  the  arm  and  hand 
move  towards  the  irritated  point.  Ogle  {op.  cit.  p.  109)  says  that 
"insects,  such  as  grasshoppers,  from  which  the  viscera  have  been 
entirely  removed  and  replaced  by  cotton-wool  as  entomological 
specimens,  if  not  pinned  down,  often  fly  away." 


CHAPTEE    III. 

We  have  further  proof  of  the  central  situation  of  the 
nutritive  principle  in  the  case  of  both  plants  and  animals. 
In  the  case  of  plants  we  observe  their  generation  from 
seeds,  and   we  also  note    the  phenomena  of  grafts   and 

2  slips.  Generation  from  seeds  takes  place  in  every 
instance  from  the  centre.  All  seeds  are  bivalvular,  and 
the  point  at  which  their  two  halves  are  joined  is  the 
point  from  which  generation  begins  and  the  middle  in 
reference  to  the  two  parts.  It  is  from  this  point  that 
stem  and  root  shoot    forth    in  growing    plants,  and  the 

3  point  of  origin  is  also  the  central1  point.  This  pheno- 
menon may  be  observed  in  the  case  of  the  buds  of 
grafts  and  slips,  for  the  bud  is  in  a  sense  the  life-principle 
of  the  branch  and  at  the  same  time  its  centre.  It  is  the 
bud,  therefore,  which  one  removes  or  into  which  one 
inserts  a  graft,  in  order  to  produce  branch  or  root  from 
it,  on  the  theory  that  the  origin  of  life  in  branch  or  root 

1  Similarly  Aristotle  regards  the  heart  or  animal  centre  as  the  part  in 
which  life  originates,  and  notices  that  it  is  visible  in  very  small  aborted 
embryos,  and  is  observable  in  the  egg  on  the  third  day  {De  part.  an. 
665Z>  1). 

276 


chap.  in.  DEVELOPMENT   OF   LIFE  277 

is  the  centre.     In  sanguineous  animals  the  first  organ  in  4 
development    is    the    heart.       This    is    plainly    seen    in 
those   animals   whose    process   of   generation    admits    of 
observation.       In     bloodless     animals     the     organ    that 
is     analogous    to     the    heart    must     be    the     first     de- 
veloped.    We  have  already  said  in  our  earlier  treatise,  5 
On  the  Parts  of  Animals}  that   the  heart  is  the  organ 
from  which   the   veins   proceed,  and   that   the  blood   in 
sanguineous  animals  is  the  ultimate  source  of  nourish-  469 « 
ment,     out     of    which     the     members     are     generated.2 
Although  regarding  nourishment  it  is  plainly  the  office  6 
of    the   mouth    to    perform    one   certain    task,   and    the 
office  of  the  stomach  to  perform  another  task,  yet  the 
heart    is    the    master-organ    and    sets    the   end    for    all 
the  others.      Consequently,  in  sanguineous  animals  it  is  7 
in    the    heart    that    we    must    look    for    the    origin    of 
nutrition  and  sensation.     For  regarding  the  preparation 
of  food,  the  functions  of  the  other  organs  are  subordinate 
to   the   function   of    the   heart.      It    must   be   true   that 
the     master-organ     is     that    which    works     persistently 
towards  the  end  and  does  not  stop  with  that  which  is 
subordinate  to  the  end,  just  as  a  physician  persistently 
works    towards    health.     At    any    rate,  the    dominating  8 
organ  of  sensation  in  all   sanguineous  animals  is  found 
in  the   heart,  for  the  'common  sense'  which  serves  all 
the   special   senses   must   be   situated  there.     There  are 
two  senses,  taste  3  and  touch,  whose  channels  lead  mani- 

1  De  part.  an.  665a  15. 

2  De  somno  456a  34.      Cf .  also  this  tractate  469a  28  ff. ;   De  resp. 
481a  11 ;  De  part.  an.  678a  7  ;  De  gen.  an.  740a  21. 

3  Taste,  as  has  been  already  said,  is  a  sort  of  touch,  and  both  taste  and 
touch  are   connected  with  the  heart  by  means  of  channels  (iropoi),  by 


278  aristotle's  psychology         dejuvent. 

festly  to  the  heart,  and  what  is  true  of  these  must  be 
true  of  the  other  senses.  Movement  in  the  other  sense- 
organs  may  be  transmitted  to  the  heart,  but  with  the 
upper  parts  of  the  body  these  two  senses  ([touch  and  taste]) 
9  do  not  communicate  at  all.  Apart  from  these  con- 
siderations, if  the  life-principle  in  all  animals  is  situated 
in  the  heart,  the  sensory  principle  must  evidently  be 
found  there  also.  For  that  by  virtue  of  which  we  call 
a  thing  an  animal  is  the  same  as  that  by  virtue  of 
which  we  say  that  it  lives,  and  the  differential  mark 
of  sensation  is  the  same  as  the  differential  mark  of  a 
io  living  body.  The  reason  why  certain  senses  are,  as  we 
see,  connected  with  the  heart  and  others  with  the  head 
(in  consequence  of  which  some  philosophers l  regard 
the  brain  as  the  organ  of  animal  sensation),  has  been 
given  in  a  separate  treatise.2 

which  Aristotle  probably  understood  the  veins  diffused  through  the 
flesh  and  leading  to  the  central  organ  {De  'part,  an.  656a  29).  Their 
medium  is  elsewhere  described  as  the  flesh  itself  [De  gen.  an.  744a  1). 

1  Plato  and  Diogenes  of  Apollonia. 

2 Depart,  an.  686a  5  ff. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

From  what  we  have  said,  based  on  observed  facts,  it  is 
clear  that  the  principle  of  sensation,  as  well  as  that  of 
growth  and  nutrition,  is  situated  in  this  organ  ([the  heart]) 
and  in  the  middle  of  the  three  divisions  of  the  body.  On1 
the  basis  of  deduction  we  should  say  the  same  thing, 
because  we  see  that  nature,  out  of  existing  possibilities, 
does  in  every  instance  the  best.  Now,  if  each 
principle2  is  situated  in  the  central  section,  the  parts3 
(viz.  that  which  finally  elaborates  the  food  and  that 
which  receives  it)  would  thus  perform  in  the  best 
possible  way  their  several  functions.  For  to  each  of  the 
parts  the  central  organ  will  then  be  so  related  as  is  best, 
and  the  mid-position  in  a  case  such  as  this  is  the  position 

1  The  editions  of  Bekker  begin  Chap.  iv.  here. 

2  Namely,  the  principles  of  sensation  and  nutrition. 

3  Aristotle's  meaning  appears  to  be  that  if  the  nutritive  principle  as 
well  as  the  principle  of  sensation  is  lodged  in  the  middle  section,  then 
the  two  parts  of  nutrition,  viz.  elaboration  of  food  and  its  assimilation, 
would  be  best  performed.  In  other  words,  the  heart,  as  the  organ  of 
nutrition,  would  in  this  way  be  best  placed  for  preparing  food  for 
distribution  to  the  surrounding  parts,  and  the  surrounding  parts,  as 
receivers  (to  8€ktlk6v),  would  be  best  served  by  a  centrally  situated  source 
of  supply. 

279 


280  aristotle's  psychology         dejuvent. 

469^  that  naturally  belongs  to  a  ruling  principle.     Again,  one 

2  must  make  a  distinction  between  the  user  and  the  instru- 
ment used  (and  as  they  differ  in  function,  so  too,  if  possible, 
they  should  differ  in  position),  as  a  flute  and  the  hand 
that  plays  it  are  different  in  function  and  situation.  If, 
then,  to  be  an  animal  means  to  have  the  power  of 
sensation,  this  power  in  the  case  of  sanguineous  animals 
must  be  found  in  the  heart  and  in  bloodless  animals  in 

3  a  corresponding  organ.  Every  member  and  the  entire 
animal  body  possess  to  a  certain  degree  congenital 
heat.  Consequently  we  see  that  during  life  animals  are 
warm,  but  when  dead  and  deprived  of  life  they  are  cold. 

4  The  source  of  this  heat  in  sanguineous  animals  must  be 
sought  in  the  heart,  and  in  bloodless  animals  in  the 
analogous  organ.  For  all  the  organs  (especially  the 
dominating  one)  prepare  and  digest  their  food  by  means 

5  of  natural  heat.  Consequently,  all  the  other  parts  of  the 
body  may  become  cold  and  yet  life  may  continue,  but  when 
the  master-organ  becomes  cold,  life  is  destroyed  entirely, 
because  this  is  the  source  of  heat  for  distribution  to  all 
other  organs,  and  the  soul  is  as  it  were  suffused  with  fire 
in  this  organ,  which  in  sanguineous  animals  is  the  heart, 
and  in  bloodless  animals  an  organ  analogous  to  the  heart. 

6  Life,  then,  must  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  continuance  of 
this  heat,  and  what  we  call  death  is  its  discontinuance. 


CHAPTER  V. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which,  as  we  see,  fire  may  be 
extinguished,  viz.  it  may  either  go  out  or  be  put  out. 
In  the  former  case  we  say  the  extinction  is  caused  from 
within,  in  the  other  case  it  is  caused  by  opposing  forces  ;x 
an  example  of  the  former  is  old  age ;  of  the  latter, 
external  violence.  Extinction  in  both  cases,  however,  is 
due  to  the  same  ultimate  cause,  viz.  the  failure  of  fuel, 
for  when  fuel  fails  and  the  heart  can  no  longer  receive 
sustenance,  extinction  of  the  fire  ensues.  Cold,  by  2 
retarding  digestion,2  arrests  nourishment.  And  there 
are  times  when  it  extinguishes  itself,  as,  e.g.,  when  the 
heat  is  massed  in  too  great  quantity,3  owing  to  lack  of 

aIn  either  case  the  extinction  is  due  to  the  ascendency  of  cold  over 
its  contrary  heat.  Only  in  the  former  case,  according  to  Aristotle,  the 
extinction  is  due  to  the  normal  failure  of  fuel  through  exhaustion ;  in 
the  latter  case  the  extinction  is  due  to  unnatural  or  artificial  exposure 
to  cold  or  wet  (which  Aristotle  calls  opposing  forces),  thus  abnormally 
checking  the  production  of  heat  by  the  blood,  and  violently  bringing 
the  supply  to  an  end. 

2 Digestion  (tt^xj/is)  means  '  cooking.' 

3  Excessive  heat  is  here  conceived  of  as  too  rapidly  exhausting  the 
supply  of  fuel,  as  in  the  case  of  fever  or  in  old  age  (owing  to  its 
diminished  supply  of  fuel).     In  addition  to  this  the  lungs  in  old  age 

281 


282  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  juvent. 

respiration  or  lack  of  cooling.  And  when  the  heat 
accumulates  in  such  mass,  it  soon  causes  an  exhaustion  of 
fuel,  and  this  process  of  exhaustion   takes   place  before 

3  evaporation  has  time  to  develop.  Not  only,  then,  is  a 
smaller  fire  extinguished  by  a  larger  one,  but  also  the 
flame  of  a  lamp  is  consumed  within  itself  when  immersed 

47o  a  in  a  large  flame,  just  as  any  other  combustible  would  be 
consumed.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  the  larger  flame 
uses  the  fuel  contained  in  the  smaller  before  other  fuel 
can  take  its  place,  and  the  fire  continues  in  constant 
process  of  development  and  in  constant  flow  like  a  river, 

4  but  we  do  not  observe  this  on  account  of  its  rapidity.  It 
is  clear,  then,  that  if  the  heat  is  to  continue  (and  this  is 
necessary   if  life   is   to   continue),   there   must  be   some 

5  means  of  reducing  the  heat  in  the  chief  organ.  An 
illustration  of  this  may  be  had  in  what  takes  place  in 
quenched  coals.  For  if  coals  are  kept  closely  covered  in 
a  common  oven,  the  fire  is  quickly  extinguished. 
Whereas  if  one  in  rapid  alternation  removes  a  lid  and 

6  sets  it  on  again,  the  coals  continue  lighted  a  long  time. 
Covering  a  fire  with  ashes  also  keeps  it.  For  owing  to 
the  porosity  of  the  ashes  ventilation  is  not  prevented, 
and  the  ashes,  by  admitting  the  surrounding  air,  protect 
the  fire  against  extinction  through  excess  of  heat  arising  in 

7  it.1      However,  the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  opposite 

become  dry  and  hard,  and  do  not  so  well  perform  their  function  of 
regulating  the  temperature.  Cf.  De  respir.  4786  35,  479a  7  ;  Meteor. 
379a  5  ;  De  gen.  an.  783&  7. 

1  In  other  words,  the  surrounding  air  being  admitted  by  the  porous 
ashes  prevents  the  excessive  heat  within  from  exhausting  its  fuel. 
Analogous  to  this  is  the  reduction  of  the  vital  heat  by  the  ventilation  of 
the  lungs. 


chap.  v.  EXTINCTION   OF   HEAT  283 

effects  are  produced  by  covering  a  fire  with  ashes  and  with 
an  oven-lid  (for  the  latter  extinguishes  it  and  the  former 
keeps  it  a  long  time)  has  been  given  in  our  treatise 
On  Problems.1 

1  The  question  is  not  discussed  in  the  extant  Problems. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Since  every  living  thing  has  a  soul,  and  the  soul,  as  we 
have  said,  cannot  subsist  without  natural  heat,  we  find 
that  in  plants  adequate  provision  has  been  made  for  the 
preservation  of  natural  heat  through  nutriment  and  the 

2  surrounding  air.  For  food  produces  refrigeration  in 
organisms  when  it  is  first  introduced,  just  as  on  its 
entrance  it  does  in  man.  Whereas  fasting  creates  heat 
and  produces  thirst.  For  air,  when  it  is  stagnant,  always 
becomes  heated,  but  when  set  in  motion  through  the 
admission  of  food  it  is  cooled,  until  the  food  has  under- 

3  gone  digestion.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  surrounding 
air  is  excessively  cold,  owing  to  the  season  and  the  occur- 
rence of  heavy  frosts,  plants  are  dried  up,  or  if  intense 
heat  occurs  in  summer  and  the  moisture  derived  from  the 
soil  is  inadequate  for  refrigeration,  the  natural  heat  is 
extinguished  and  destroyed.     In  such  seasons  one  says 

4  that  trees  are  frosted  or  suffer  blight.  And  that  is  the 
reason  why  people  pile  certain  kinds  of  stones *  about  the 


1  Whether  any  particular  variety  of  stone  was  used  for  this  purpose  is, 
so  far  as  I  am  aware,  unknown.  Presumably  nothing  more  is  meant 
than  that  such  stones  were  used  as  lent  themselves  to  making  a  compact 

284 


chap.  vi.  REGULATION    OF    HKAT  285 

roots  or  cover  them  with  vessels  of  water,  in  order  to  470  £ 
keep  the  roots  of  the  plants  cool.  In  the  case  of 
animals,  since  some  of  them  are  aquatic  and  others  live 
in  a  medium  of  air,  the  refrigeration  is  derived  from  and 
through  the  media  in  which  they  live,  i.e.  in  the  one  case 
water  and  in  the  other  air.  We  must  now  begin  a 
special  inquiry  touching  the  nature  and  manner  of  this 
process. 

covering,  thus  shutting  out  the  heat,  or  such  stones  as  by  their  density- 
were  poor  conductors  of  heat.  In  any  case  the  chief  idea  is  that  they 
performed  the  same  service  as  lungs  and  gills  in  animals,  viz.  the 
service  of  refrigeration  or  the  prevention  of  excessive  heat,  as  Aristotle 
supposes. 


ON   KESPIRATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  few  of  the  earlier  physicists  1  have  treated  the  subject 
of  respiration.  But  in  regard  to  the  purpose  which  it 
subserves  in  the  animal  organism,  some  of  them  have 
given  no  explanation  whatever,  and  others,  although  they 
have  discussed  it,  have  been  wrong  in  their  statements  and 
have  lacked  empirical  knowledge  of  the  facts.  Further- 
more, they  declare  that  all  animals  respire.2    This,  however, 

1  Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  who  explained  thought  as  well  as  life  by- 
means  of  respiration  (Zeller,  Phil,  der  Griechen,  4te  Aufl.  vol.  i.  p. 
246),  Empedocles  (Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philos.  p.  230),  Democritus 
(Zeller,  op.  cit.  p.  810),  Anaxagoras  (cf.  below  470&  20). 

2  Aristotle  confined  respiration  to  the  admission  and  expulsion  of  air 
(4806  10).  In  modern  Physiology,  respiration  in  a  wide  sense  includes 
that  form  of  internal  respiration  (properly  a  function  of  nutrition),  which 
means  the  interchange  of  oxygen  and  carbon  dioxide  between  the  cells 
and  the  fluid  that  drenches  them  (cf.  Ency.  Brit.  Art.  on  "  Respiration  "). 
Ordinarily,  however,  it  is  used  to  signify  the  expulsion  of  carbonic  acid 
and  the  admission  of  oxygen,  which  is  effected  mainly  through  the 
lungs,  gills,  skin,  and  alimentary  canal.  Pulmonary  respiration  is  the 
chief  means  of  working  this  interchange,  and  it  is  to  this  that  Aristotle's 
opuscle  is  confined,  referring  to  other  means  of  respiration  as  only 
analogous  functions. 

286 


chap.  i.  PURPOSE    OF   RESPIRATION  287 

is  untrue.  It  will  be  necessary,  therefore,  to  return  to  2 
these  points,  in  order  that  we  be  not  thought  to  make 
unfounded  charges  against  writers  who  are  no  longer 
living.  It  is  plain  that  all  animals  with  lungs 
breathe.  But  amongst  these,  the  animals  that  have  a 
spongy,  anaemic  lung  need  respiration  less  than  the 
others.  Consequently  they  can  remain,  owing  to  their 
physical  strength,  a  considerable  time  under  water.  All 
oviparous  animals  have  a  spongy  lung,  as  is  the  case  in  3 
frogs.1  Again,  water-tortoises  and  land-tortoises  can 
remain  a  lone;  time  under  water.  In  these  animals  the 
lung  has  little  heat,  because  it  has  little  blood.  Conse- 
quently when  it  has  been  once  inflated,  it  effects  refrigera- 
tion by  its  motion  and  enables  the  animal  to  continue  a 
long  time  under  water  without  breathing.  Even  in  these  4 
cases,  however,  when  the  animal  is  forced  to  hold  its 
breath  too  long,  it  is  suffocated.  For  none  of  these 
animals  can  inhale  water,  as  fishes  do.  All  animals, 
on  the  other  hand,  whose  lung  is  full  of  blood,  have 
greater  need  of  respiration,  because  of  their  greater 
heat.  As  to  the  animals  that  have  no  lung  at  all,  they 
have  no  respiration  at  all. 

1  In  the  frog  the  cavity  of  the  lung  is  divided  into  a  honeycomb  of 
chambers  or  alveoli.  Each  septum  of  the  lung,  being  rich  in  elastic 
tissue  and  equipped  with  a  minute  network  of  capillaries  covered  on 
each  side  with  epithelium,  is  freely  exposed  to  the  air,  and  owing  to  the 
honeycomb  structure  of  the  lung  the  area  of  exposure  to  the  air  (and 
consequent  exposure  of  the  blood)  is  great  (cf.  Foster,  Physiology,  6th 
ed.  p.  557).  Birds  exhibit  a  reptilian  rather  than  mammalian  form  of 
lung  (Owen,  Anatom.  of  Vertebrates,  vol.  ii.,  p.  269). 


CHAPTER    II. 

Democritus  of  Abdera  and  certain  other  writers  on  the 
subject  of  respiration  have  not  spoken  definitely  about 
the  animals  last  named,  but  they  appear  to  assert 
that  all  animals  breathe.  Anaxagoras,  however,  and 
Diogenes  make  the  statement  that  all  animals  respire, 
and  they  say  that  fishes  and  oysters  are  endowed  with 

2  a  sort  of  respiration.       Anaxagoras    declares  that  when 
471a  fishes  discharge    water   through   their   gills,  they    inhale 

the  air  that  is  developed  in  the  mouth  (for  a  vacuum 
does  not  exist),  and  so  respire.  Diogenes,  on  the  other 
hand,  says  that  when  fishes  discharge  water  through 
their  gills,  they  inhale  air  by  the  action  of  the  vacuum 
formed  in  the  mouth,  out  of  the  water  which  surrounds 
the    mouth,    on    the    theory    that    water    contains    air. 

3  These  views,  however,  are  untenable.  For,  in  the  first 
place,  they  leave  out  of  account  half  of  the  truth,  because 
their  entire  statement  refers  only  to  one  aspect .  of  the 
case.  For  by  respiration  one  understands  partly  in- 
spiration and  partly  expiration,  and  they  have  nothing 
to    say   in   explanation   of   how   the    latter   takes    place 

4  in   lungless   animals.       And    it   is    impossible    for  them 

288 


chap.  ii.  AQUATIC    ANIMALS  289 

to  give  any  explanation.  For  when  inspiration  takes 
place,  expiration  must  also  follow  by  the  same 
channel  as  that  employed  in  inspiration,  and  these  two 
things  must  succeed  each  other  in  constant  alternation. 
The  consequence  is  that  exhalation  must  take  place  at 
the  same  moment  that  water  is  being  received  into  the 
mouth,  and  in  that  case  the  one  must  impede  the  other 
by  meeting.  Secondly,  if  they  exhale  by  the  mouth  or  5 
gills  at  the  moment  when  they  discharge  water,  the 
consequence  will  be  that  inspiration  and  expiration  will 
be  simultaneous,  and,  according  to  the  above  assertion, 
this  is  the  moment  in  which  animals  inspire.  But  simul- 
taneous inspiration  and  expiration  is  an  impossibility. 
Consequently,  if  it  is  true  that  respiration  involves  both 
inspiration  and  expiration,  and  if  it  is  further  true  that 
aquatic  animals  are  not  capable  of  expiration,  it  is 
clear  that  they  are  also  incapable  of  respiration. 


CHAPTER    III 

Again,  the  assertion  that  they  inhale  air  from  the 
mouth,  or  from  the  water  through  the  mouth,  is  im- 
possible. For  aquatic  animals  have  no  windpipe,  because 
they  have  no  lung,  but  the  stomach  is  immediately 
adjacent  to  the  mouth,  and  consequently  the  stomach 
would  necessarily  be  the  organ  of  inspiration.  But  if 
this  were  true  here,  the  stomach  would  have  this  power 
in  other  animals  also.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  does  not 
have  this  power.  Further,  if  aquatic  animals  were  re- 
moved from  the  water  they  would  then  clearly  show  this 

2  capacity  to  respire ;  but  they  do  not  show  it.  Further- 
more, we  observe  in  those  animals  that  respire  and 
inhale  air  a  certain  movement  in  the  organ  of  inhala- 
tion. This  is  not  observable  in  fishes.  They  appear  to 
move  no  organ  about  the  stomach  other  than  the  gills, 
whether  they  are  in  the  water  or  are  thrown  gasping  on 

3  the  dry  shore.     Again,  when  any  respiring  animal  dies 
471  b  from  suffocation  in  the  water,  its  breath,  as  it  forcibly 

leaves  the  body,  is  formed  into  bubbles,  as  one  sees  in 
the  case  of  tortoises  or  frogs,  or  other  animals  of  this 
sort,    when    they   are    forcibly    drowned.       "With  fishes, 

290 


chap.  in.  RESPIRATION   IN  FISHES  291 

however,  this  is  not  the  case,  whatever  method  one  may 
use,  because  they  contain  no  inhaled  air.      According  to  4 
the  explanation  of  respiration  above  mentioned,  it  would 
be  possible  also  for  men  to  respire  when  in  water.     For 
if  fish  inhale  air  from  water  by  means  of  their  mouth, 
why  should   not   men   and    other  animals   do   the  same 
thing  ?      They  should  inhale  air  from  the  mouth  quite  5 
as  much  as  fishes.      If  the  latter  have  this  power,  the 
former  should  have  it  also.      But  as  this  is  not  true  in 
the  one  case,   it   evidently   does   not   hold   good  in  the 
other.      Furthermore,   if  fishes   respire,   why   is   it  that 
we  see  them  die  in  the  air  and  gasp  as  if  suffocated  ? l 
It  is  not  owing  to  lack  of  food.      The  explanation  given  6 
by  Diogenes  is  foolish.     He  says  that  fishes,  when  in  the 
air,  inhale  too  much  air,  and  this  is  why  they  die,  whereas 
in  the  water  they  inhale  a  moderate  amount.      But  this 
should  then  be  possible  for  land  animals  also.    In  point  of 
fact,  no  land  animal  is  suffocated  by  excessive  inhalation. 
Further,   if  all  animals    respire,   insects   must  evidently  7 
respire  also.       Many    of    them,   however,    seem    to   live 

1  Lewes  (Aristotle,  p.  176)  says  that  the  reason  why  fish  die  in  the 
air  was,  when  he  wrote  the  note  (1864),  still  awaiting  an  explanation. 
He  was  then  not  satisfied  with  the  explanation  of  Flourens  (Annales 
des  sciences  naturelles,  1830),  which  attributed  suffocation  to  the 
collapse  of  the  gills  in  the  air,  and  the  consequent  inadequate  aeration 
of  blood,  which  no  doubt  is  the  chief  cause,  and  Lewes'  experiment  in 
artificially  separating  the  leaflets  of  the  gills  would  not  seem  to  be 
any  adequate  disproof.  The  number  of  respirations  per  minute  in 
water  has  been  experimentally  investigated  by  McKendrick  [Journal 
of  Anatomy  and  Physiol,  vol.  xiv.  1879,  p.  463)  and  found  to  vary  in 
different  fishes,  ranging  from  15  respirations  (Rockling  and  Blue 
Wrasse)  to  120  (Minnow  and  Stickleback).  It  is,  however,  no  doubt 
true  that  rapid  desiccation  is  a  further  cause  of  the  dying  of  fish  in 
the  air,  and  the  protection  against  this  by  the  coat  of  slime  on  eels 
explains  their  living  longer. 


292  aristotle's  psychology  derespir. 

when  they  are  divided,  not  only  when  divided  into 
two  parts,  but  into  several,  as  in  the  case  of  the  centi- 
pedes. How  or  by  what  organ  is  it  possible  for  these 
8  parts  to  breathe  ?  The  chief  cause  of  the  error  of 
these  writers  was  their  ignorance  of  the  internal  organs, 
and  also  the  fact  that  they  did  not  grasp  the  truth  of 
design  in  nature.  For  by  asking  to  what  end  animals 
are  endowed  with  respiration,  and  by  making  a  test  of 
their  theory  on  the  organs  themselves,  as,  e.g.,  on  the 
gills  and  lungs,  they  would  soon  have  discovered  the 
real  explanation. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Democritus  makes  the  statement,  it  is  true,  that  respira- 
tion produces  certain  effects  in  the  respiring  animal,  viz. 
it  prevents  the  soul  from  being  expelled  from  the  body. 
He  by  no  means  says,  however,  that  nature  in  creating  472  a 
this  function  did  so  with  this   end  in   view.      For  he  is, 
on  the  whole,  like   the  other   physicists 1  and  makes  no 
application  of  any  such  causality.      He  maintains  that  the  2 
soul  and  heat  have  one  and  the  same  nature,  viz.  they  are 
elemental  spherical  atoms.     Consequently,  when  these  are 
compressed  by  the  force  of  the  surrounding  air,  inhalation 
comes  to  their  assistance.      For  in  the  air  there  is  a  large  3 
number  of  the  atoms  which  he  calls  mind  and  soul.      In 
the  act  of  inhalation,  then,  and  along  with  the  entrance 
of  the  air,  these   atoms  also  enter,  and,  by  counteracting 
the   pressure,   prevent    the    expulsion    of    the    soul    that 
resides  in  the  animal  body.      It  is  for  this  reason  that  4 
life  and   death  depend   upon  inspiration  and   expiration. 

1  We  are  almost  entirely  dependent  on  this  account  of  Aristotle  for 
theories  of  respiration  amongst  the  Presocratics.  For  the  theories  of 
Galen  and  Hippocrates  see  the  article  of  Steinheim,  "  Antike  Lehre  d. 
Athmens  "  in  Litt.  Ann.  d.  gesamm.  Heilkunde,  vol.  x.  (1828),  p.  257  ff. 

293 


294  aristotle's  psychology  derespir. 

For  when  the  surrounding  medium  by  its  pressure  gains 
control  and  the  outer  air  is  no  longer  able  to  enter  and 
counteract  this  control,  respiration  in  the  animal  becomes 
impossible  and  death  ensues.  For  by  death  one  means 
the  departure  of  these  psychical  atoms  from  the  body  due 

5  to  expulsion  by  the  surrounding  medium.  The  reason, 
however,  why  death  necessarily  comes  at  all  to  every 
animal,  and  why  it  does  not  come  at  any  chance  period, 
but  in  the  course  of  nature  only  in  old  age, — a  violent 
death  is  contrary  to  nature, — he  has  not  in  the  least 
explained.  And  yet,  because  this  phenomenon  occurs 
evidently  at  one  period  and  not  at  another,  it  behoved 
him  to  explain  whether  it  is  due  to  an  external  or  to  an 

6  internal  cause.  Further,  he  has  not  a  word  to  say 
regarding  the  origin  of  respiration,  whether  its  cause  is 
external  or  internal.  And  yet  it  is  evidently  not  the 
external  mind  that  comes  to  the  rescue  here,  but  the 
principle  of  respiration  and  of  respiratory  movement  is 
due  to  an  internal  cause,  and  we  are  not  to  suppose  that 
the  force  of  the  surrounding  medium  is  any  explanation. 
It  is  also  absurd  to  think  that  the  surrounding  medium 
has  at  once  the  effect  of  extinguishing  by  compression, 
and  on  its  entrance  the  opposite  effect.  The  foregoing, 
in  content  and  manner  of  statement,  conforms  closely  to 

7  the  theory  of  Democritus.  If  one  is  to  regard  as  true 
what  was  said  a  while  ago,  viz.  that  not  all  animals 
respire,  then  we  must  regard  the  Democritean  explanation 
of  death  as  not  universally  applicable,  but  only  to  those 
cases  where  animals  breathe.  But  even  to  these  cases  it 
does  not  well  apply,  as  is  evident  from  facts  observed  by 

8  all  of  us.      For  in  warm  weather,  when  we  are  more  than 


chap.  iv.  HEAT    AND    RESPIRATION  295 

usually  heated,  we  have  greater  need  of  respiration  and 
we  all  breathe  more  rapidly.  When,  however,  our 
environment  is  cool  and  contracts  and  chills  the  body, 
we  hold  our  breath.  This  is  the  very  moment,  however,  9 
that  the  air  from  without  should  enter  and  prevent  the 
soul's  expulsion.  In  point  of  fact  it  is  the  opposite  that  472 
takes  place.  For  when  excessive  heat  is  accumulated, 
owing  to  its  not  being  exhaled,  that  is  the  moment  we 
need  respiration,  and  inhalation  is  necessary  to  this.  The 
truth  is,  men  breathe  rapidly  when  they  are  hot,  because 
respiration  has  a  cooling  effect,  at  the  very  moment 
when  ([according  to  the  theory  of  Democritus])  they  would 
be,  to  use  a  proverb,  '  adding  fire  to  fire.'1 

1  Because  Democritus  regards  the   soul -atoms  as  identical  with  the 
heat-atoms. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

The  theory  of  circular  push  described  in  the  Timaeus1 
gives  no  explanation  whatever  of  the  way  in  which  heat 
is  maintained  in  animals  other  than  man,  whether  the 
preservation  of  heat  in  the  various  animals  is  due  to  the 
same  or  different  causes.  For  if  the  phenomenon  of  re- 
spiration is  found  in  land  animals  alone,  we  must  explain 
why  they  alone  breathe.  If,  however,  it  occurs  in  other 
animals  also,  but  by  a  different  process,  assuming  that 
they  can  all  respire,  we  must  find  an  explanation  for  the 
2  difference  in  process.  Furthermore,  the  whole  manner 
of  explaining  the  phenomenon  is  fanciful.  For  Plato 
says  that  by  the  issuance  of  hot  air  from  the  mouth, 
the  surrounding  air  is  pushed  forward  and  is  transmitted 
through  the  pores  of  the  flesh,  and  rests  at  the  point 
from  which  the  internal  hot  air  issued.  These  elements 
thus  effect  a  complementary  displacement,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  a  vacuum  is  impossible.      In  the  same  way  the 

1  Timaeus,  79  A  ff.  Plato's  explanation  of  the  circular  movement  of 
inspiration  and  expiration  is  expressly  applied  by  him  to  the  lowering 
of  animal  heat,  and  not  only  in  man  but  in  all  animals,  as  he  says,  "  in 
the  interior  of  every  animal  the  hottest  part  is  that  which  is  around 
the  blood  and  veins  "  ( Timaeus,  loc.  cit. ). 

296 


chap.  v.  plato's  theory  297 

inhaled  air  in  turn,  when  heated,  is  discharged  and  the 
warm  air  within,  issuing  out  through  the  mouth,  continues 
this  '  circular  push/  And  so  this  process,  which  is  inspira- 
tion and  expiration,  goes  constantly  on.  The  logical  3 
consequence  of  the  theory  is  that  expiration  precedes 
inspiration,  whereas  the  opposite  is  the  fact,  as  the 
following  proves.  The  two  things  are  correlated 
phenomena.  Now  man's  last  act  is  expiration,  conse- 
quently inspiration  must  form  the  beginning.  Further,  4 
the  end  which  these  processes  (I  mean  inspiration  and 
expiration)  subserve  in  the  animal  body  is  not  taken  into 
account  at  all  by  the  philosophers  who  advocate  this 
theory.  They  treat  them  merely  as  unessential  phe- 
nomena. We  see,  however,  that  they  are  the  master- 
factors  in  life  and  death.  For  when  a  breathing  animal 
is  unable  to  respire,  at  that  moment  death  ensues. 
Further,  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  issue  of  hot  5 
air  through  the  mouth  and  the  entrance  of  air  again 
by  the  mouth  should  be  observable  by  us,  whereas 
the  entrance  of  the  breath  into  the  thorax  and  its 
discharge  should  not  be  observable.1  It  is  also  strange 
that  respiration  should  mean  the  introduction  of 
heat.2  Observation  shows  the  contrary,  for  expired  air  is  6 
hot,  whereas  inspired  air  is  cool.  And  when  the 
atmosphere  is  warm  animals  pant  in  respiring  and  they 
draw  their  breath  frequently,  because  the  entering  air  473  a 
does  not  adequately  cool  them. 

1  That  is  through  the  pores  into  the  thorax. 

2  Respiration  to  Plato  means  the  introduction  of  heat  only  in  so 
far  as  it  means  the  maintenance  of  heat  and  the  supply  of  fuel 
( Timaeua,  79  E). 


CHAPTER  VI. 

We  must  also  reject  the  theory  that  the  purpose  of 
respiration  is  nutrition,  which  presupposes  the  feeding 
of  internal  heat  by  means  of  the  breath.  According 
to  this  view,  inspiration  is  similar  to  throwing  fuel  on  a 

2  fire,  and  expiration  follows  when  the  fire  is  fed.  We 
again  urge  the  same  objections  to  this  theory  as  we  did 
to  the  theories  enumerated  above.  The  same  process, 
or   something   analogous    to   it,  should  be   found    in  all 

3  animals,  for  they  all  have  vital  heat.  In  the  next  place, 
the  advocates  of  this  theory  should  explain  how  heat  is 
generated  out  of  the  breath.  The  whole  view  is  fanciful. 
According  to  our  observation  generation  of  heat  is  due 
much  rather  to  food.  A  further  consequence  of  their 
theory  is  that  food  is  received  and  excrement  discharged 
at  the  same  orifice,1  which  is  not  seen  in  any  other 
instance. 

JThe  reference  may  be  to  the  Pythagoreans  (cf.  De  sensu  445a.  16), 
who  asserted  that  certain  animals  are  fed  by  the  inspiration  of  smells. 
But  we  have  no  details  about  their  doctrine.  Inasmuch,  however,  as 
food  here  appears  to  be  fuel  for  vital  heat,  the  reference  to  Plato  is 
possible,  who  in  the  '  circular  push '  theory  would  seem  to  admit  food 
and  discharge  waste  by  the  same  orifice. 

298 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Empedocles  also  has  a  theory  of  respiration,  although 
he  does  not  explain  the  purpose  of  respiration,  nor  does 
he  say  definitely  whether  all  animals  are  endowed 
with  respiration  or  not.  In  treating  of  respiration 
through  the  nostrils,  he  fancies  he  is  dealing  with 
the  main  factor  in  this  process.  He  is  here  mistaken,  2 
for  there  is  respiration  through  the  windpipe,  which 
leads  from  the  chest,  as  well  as  respiration  through 
the  nostrils,  and  without  a  windpipe  the  nostrils 
themselves  could  not  respire  at  all.  Animals  may  even 
be  deprived  of  respiration  through  the  nostrils  and  suffer 
no  harm,  but  if  the  use  of  the  windpipe  is  shut  off  they 
die.  In  certain  animals,  indeed,  respiration  through  the 
nostrils  is  employed  by  nature  for  the  secondary  function  3 
of  smell.  Although  almost  all  animals  are  endowed  with 
the  sense  of  smell,  they  do  not  all  employ  the  same  organ 
for  this  purpose.  On  this  subject,  however,  we  have 
spoken  elsewhere  more  in  detail.1  4 

Empedocles  asserts  that  inspiration  and  expiration  take  473  * 
place  through   particular  veins,  in  which   there  is  blood, 

1  Cf.  De  an.  421a  7  ff.  ;  Be  sensu,  4446  16. 
299 


300  ARISTOTLE  S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  respir. 

although  they  are  not  entirely  filled  with  blood,  and  that 
these  veins  are  provided  with  channels  that  lead  into  the 
outer  air,  channels  which  are  too  minute  for  the  admission 
of  crass  matter,  but  large  enough  for  air.  Now,  the  blood 
is  so  constituted  as  to  move  up  and  down,  and  after  its 
downward  motion  the  air  streams  in  and  inspiration  takes 
place ;  on  its  upward  motion  expiration  into  the  outer  air 
ensues — a  process  which  resembles  what  we  observe  in 
the  Clepsydra  : l 

5  Thus  all  things  breathe  and  breathe  out  air  again. 

Long  bloodless  tubes  the  body's  surface  reach, 
And  at  their  close-packed  vents  are  nostrils  fixed 
Pierced  through  ;  and  so  a  passage  way  is  cut 
For  air,  while  yet  the  blood  is  hidden  held. 
When  yielding  blood  along  these  channels  ebbs, 
Then  bursts  the  surging  air  with  tempest's  wave 
Within.     But  when  the  blood  rebounds,  the  air 
Is  then  expired  again,  as  one  may  see 
A  child  with  smooth  bronze  water-clock  at  play. 
Upon  her  comely  hand  she  sets  the  tube, 
And  dips  it  in  the  yielding  water's  sheen, 
Of  which  no  drop  slips  in  the  vessel's  form. 
Upon  the  close-packed  vents  the  air  doth  press 
Within,  until  the  maid  her  hand  removes 
And  frees  the  urgent  stream,  which  entrance  makes, 
Whose  even  flow  drives  back  the  yielding  air. 
So,  too,  when  e'er  the  waters  full  free  flow 
Hath  filled  the  deep  bronze  tube,  and  maiden  hand 
The  passage  firm  hath  blocked,  then  doth  the  air, 
The  eager  outer  air,  the  vents  make  fast 
And  hold  in  its  restraint  the  inner  stream 
Whose  waters  at  the  narrow  gates  complain, 
474  a  Until  the  maiden  lifts  her  hand.     And  now 

Is  true  the  converse  of  what  was  before  : 
The  air  flows  in — the  water's  equal  stream 

1  Burnet  {Early  Greek  Philos.  p.  230)  gives  a  valuable  elucidation  of 
this  passage. 


chap.  vii.  EMPEDOCLES  301 

Flows  out.     Thus  also  'tis  with  fluent  blood 
That  coursing  through  our  limbs  now  hurries  back 
To  inner  depths,  and  straightway  air  pours  in 
With  surging  swell.     Again  the  blood  returns 
From  its  retreat ;  then  forthwith  yields  the  air, 
Exhaled  once  more,  in  nature's  even  course.1 

These  are  his  words  on  the  subject  of  respiration.  As  6 
we  have  already  said,  animals  that  visibly  respire  do  so  by 
means  of  the  windpipe  as  well  as  by  means  of  the  mouth 
and  nostrils.  Now,  if  Empedocles  is  speaking  of  respira- 
tion in  this  sense,  we  must  inquire  how  far  his  explanation 
harmonizes  with  the  facts.  Apparently  the  facts  con- 
tradict his  theory.  For  in  inspiration  the  receptacle  is  7 
expanded  like  a  brazier's  bellows.  Expansion,  however, 
is  naturally  explained  by  heat  and  by  blood  which  takes 
the  place  of  heat  ([but  it  is  not  explained  by  air  in  the 
theory  of  Empedocles]).  In  expiration,  on  the  other 
hand,  contraction  and  collapse  take  place,  as  in  the 
bellows,  excepting  that  the  cases  are  not  quite  parallel  in 
this  respect,  viz.  the  bellows  do  not  admit  and  discharge 
air  by  the  same  orifice,  whereas  in  inspiration  and  expira- 
tion the  same  orifice  is  used.  If,  however,  he  is  here  8 
referring  merely  to  respiration  through  the  nostrils,  he  is 
quite  wrong.  For  respiration  is  not  a  function  which  is 
peculiar  to  the  nostrils ;  on  the  contrary,  along  the 
passage  near  the  uvula,  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  roof  of 
the  mouth,  part  of  the  air  passes  here  through  the 
openings  of  the  nostrils  and  part  of  it  through  the  mouth, 
and  this  applies  equally  to  inspiration  and  expiration. 

1  Vid.    Fragments   of   Empedocles   in    Mullach's   Fragmenta   Philos. 
Graec.  (Paris,  1883),  vol.  i.,  pp.  10,  11. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

It  was  said  above  that  life  and  the  possession  of  soul  are 
accompanied  by  a  certain  degree  of  heat.1  For  even  the 
process  of  concoction,  by  which  food  is  prepared  for 
animal   life,   cannot   be   accomplished   without  soul   and 

2  heat ;  all  this  is  effected  by  fire.  Consequently,  such  a 
fundamental  process  as  this  must  be  situated  in  the 
primary  region  of  the  body  and  in  the  primary  organ  of 
this   region,  and   here  it  is  that  we  must  look  for  this 

474^  elementary  nutritive  soul.  This  is  the  middle  region 
between  the  orifice  for  admitting  food  and  that  for 
discharging  excrement.  In  bloodless  animals  the  primary 
organ  has  no  name,  in  sanguineous  animals  it  is  the  heart. 

3  The  food  out  of  which  animal  members  are  generated  is  the 
blood.  The  blood  and  blood-vessels  must  have  the  same 
starting-point.  For  the  one,  as  vessel  and  receptacle 
exists  for  the  other.  The  originating  point  for  these 
vessels  in  sanguineous  animals  is  the  heart.     They  do  not 

4  traverse    the    heart ;     they    all    issue    from    it    and    are 

1Even  plants,  Aristotle  correctly  remarks  (although  he  gives  no 
reason  for  the  statement),  exhibit  vital  heat  (De  part.  an.  650a  6  ;  De 
vit.  et  mort.  470a  22). 

302 


CHAP.  VIII. 


ANIMAL    HEAT  303 


attached  to  it,  as  is  evident  from  dissection,  i  Now,  the 
other  functions  of  the  soul  cannot  be  performed  indepen- 
dently of  the  nutritive  principle  (the  reason  for  which 
has  been  stated  in  the  treatise  On  the  Soul),2  and  the 
nutritive  principle  in  turn  cannot  subsist  without  natural 
heat.  For  it  is  through  natural  heat  that  nature  has 
endowed  the  nutritive  principle  with  warmth.  Fire  may- 
be destroyed,  as  we  said  before,  in  two  ways  :  by  extinc- 
tion and  by  exhaustion.  Extinction  is  effected  by  opposing  5 
forces.  Consequently  even  when  the  fire  is  massed  it  may 
be  extinguished  by  environing  cold,  and  when  scattered  it 
is  more  easily  quenched.  This  extinction  by  external 
force  applies  to  animal  heat  as  well  as  to  inanimate  fire. 
For  animals  die  when  dismembered  by  instruments  or 
when  congealed  by  excessive  cold.  Exhaustion,  on  the  6 
other  hand,  follows  from  excessive  heat.  For  if  the  sur- 
rounding heat  is  great,  and  the  internal  supply  of  fuel  is 
not  maintained,  the  fire  ceases  to  burn,  not  from  extinction 
by  cold,  but  from  exhaustion.  Consequently  there  must 
be  some  cooling  process,  if  survival  is  to  be  attained ;  for 
this  comes  to  the  rescue  and  prevents  extinction. 

1  There  is  no  doubt  that  Aristotle  practised  dissection  of  animals, 
although  he  probably  never  dissected  the  human  body.  His  conclusions 
in  reference  to  the  latter  were  drawn  from  the  anatomy  of  other 
animals,  whence  also  the  Asclepiads  derived  their  knowledge,  and  his 
errors  are  such  as  are  due  to  this  source  of  information  and  to  his  specu- 
lative views  as  to  anatomical  structures  {e.g.  the  bloodlessness  of  the 
brain,  its  not  extending  to  the  back  part  of  the  skull,  and  its  function 
as  a  cooling  apparatus).  Further,  the  feelings  of  the  Greeks  regarding 
the  sacredness  of  the  human  body  were  much  stronger  than  ours,  and 
neither  Hippocrates  nor  Galen  is  supposed  to  have  dissected  man. 
Cf.  Hist.  an.  4946  22,  513a  12 ;  Huxley,  Nature,  vol.  xxi.  ;  Lewes, 
Aristotle,  p.  165. 

2  Be  an.  416a  10  ff.,  434a  22. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Some  animals  are  aquatic  and  others  have  their  existence 
on  the  dry  land.  In  the  case  of  the  very  small  and 
bloodless  specimens  of  both  classes,  the  cooling  produced 
by  their  surroundings,  whether  air  or  water,  is  adequate 
to  protect  them  against  the  above-mentioned  extinction. 
For  being  endowed  with  little  heat  they  need  little 
protection.     Animals  of  this  kind  are,  consequently,  in 

2  the  rule  short-lived,  for  a  slight  change   on  one  side  or 
475«  the  other  destroys  the  balance.     The  longer  lived  insects 

(which,  like  all  insects,  are  bloodless1)  have  a  fissure  just 
below  the  middle  part  in  order  that  cooling  may  be 
effected  through  the  membrane,  which  at  this  point  is 
very  thin.  For  inasmuch  as  they  have  more  heat  they 
have  more  need  of  cooling.  Bees,  for  example,  some  of 
which  live  as  long  as  seven  years,  and  the  other  insects 

3  that  hum,  such  as  wasps,  cockchafers,  and  locusts,  belong  to 
this  class.      They  produce  this  noise  by  their  breath,  as  if 

xThe  blood  of  insects  is  ordinarily  a  colourless  liquid,  sometimes 
yellowish  or  greenish,  and  rarely  red,  and  was  not  regarded  by  Aristotle 
as  blood.  Cf.  Owen,  Gompar.  Anatom.  and  Physiol,  of  Invert.  An. 
p.  383. 

304 


chap.  ix.  CONTROL   OF   TEMPERATURE  305 

by  panting.  As  the  natural  breathing  within  rises  and 
falls,  it  produces  friction  against  the  membrane  in  the 
middle  region.  For  insects  keep  this  region  in  motion 
just  as  animals  that  breathe  the  outer  air1  maintain 
motion  by  their  lungs  or  fishes  by  their  gills.  This  4 
motion  is  similar  to  what  would  take  place  if  one  should 
suffocate  a  respiring  animal  by  holding  its  mouth ;  for 
then  this  swelling  movement  would  be  produced  by  the 
lungs.  In  the  latter  case,  however,  such  motion  is 
inadequate  for  cooling,  although  it  is  adequate  in  the  5 
case  of  insects.  By  means  of  friction  against  a  membrane 
they  produce  a  humming  noise,  as  we  said,  in  much  the 
same  way  as  children  make  a  noise  through  a  perforated 
reed  after  stretching  a  thin  membrane  in  it.2  And  it  is  in 
this  way,  too,  that  the  singing  locusts  produce  their  song. 
They  possess  greater  heat  than  other  varieties,  and  have  a 
fissure  in  the  middle  region.  In  the  songless  locusts  this 
fissure  is  lacking.  Sanguineous  animals  endowed  with  6 
lungs  that  contain  little  blood  and  are  spongy,  can  live 
a  long  time  without  respiration,  because  the  lungs  are 
capable  of  great  expansion,  containing  as  they  do 
little  blood  or  fluid.      Consequently,   their  own  peculiar 

1  All  insects  breathe  air,  which  enters  chiefly  through  the  thoracic 
and  first  abdominal  spiracles.  In  the  case  of  insects  living  in  the  water 
respiration  is  effected  by  branchiae  or  false  gills,  which  are  supposed  to 
absorb  air  from  the  water.  Cf.  Packard,  The  Study  of  Insects,  p.  40  ; 
Owen,  Compar.  Anatom.  and  Physiol,  of  the  Invert.  An.,  p.  368. 

2  Insects  produce  sounds  by  the  vibration  of  their  wings,  by  the 
vibration  and  friction  of  the  abdominal  segments,  and  by  rubbing 
the  head  against  the  anterior  wall  of  the  thorax.  The  shrilling  of  the 
male  cricket  (a  sexual  call)  is  produced  by  the  friction  of  the  fore  wings 
against  the  hind  wings  (cf.  Packard,  The  Study  of  Insects,  pp.  362,  563). 
Aristotle  further  describes  the  methods  by  which  insects  produce 
sounds  in  the  Hist.  Anim.,  5356  4  fF. 

U 


306  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  respir. 

motion    is   adequate   for    cooling  through   a   considerable 

7  period.  Finally,  however,  it  is  unable  to  continue  this, 
and  without  respiration  it  suffocates,  as  we  said  before. 
That  form  of  exhaustion  which  consists  in  destruction 
through  lack  of  cooling  is  called  suffocation,  and  animals 
that  die  in  this  way  are  said  to  be  suffocated.      We  have 

8  already  remarked  that  insects  do  not  respire.  One  can 
observe  this  plainly  in  the  case  of  small  insects,  such  as 
flies  and  bees,  for  they  can  swim  a  long  time  in  a  liquid, 

475  b  provided  it  is  not  too  hot  or  too  cold.     And  yet  animals 
which  have  less  strength  require  more  frequent  respira- 

9  tion.  They  are  destroyed,  however,  and  are  suffocated, 
as  we  say,  when  the  belly  is  filled  with  water  and  the 
heat  of  the  middle  region  quenched.  From  this  we  can 
understand  how  it  is  that  such  insects  get  up  again  after 
being  covered  for  some  time  with  warm  ashes.     We  also 

io  observe  that  bloodless  aquatic  animals  live  in  the  air 
longer  than  do  sanguineous  animals  that  take  in  sea- 
water,  as  the  fishes.  For  the  former  have  little  heat,  and 
consequently  the  air  is  adequate  to  cool  them  for  a 
considerable    time,    as    is    the    case  with    Crustacea    and 

ii  polyps.  And  yet  it  is  finally  inadequate  for  life,  because 
they  possess  little  heat;  for  even  fishes  are  often  dug  out 
of  the  earth  and  found  to  be  living,  although  motionless. 
Animals  that  are  endowed  either  with  no  lungs  at  all  or 
with  lungs  containing  little  blood,  need  the  least  frequent 
respiration. 


CHAPTER    X. 

In  regard  to  bloodless  animals  we  have  said  that  some 
of    them    owe    their    survival    to    the    surrounding    air, 
others  to  the  water.      In  the  case  of  animals  that  have 
blood  and    a    heart,  all    those    that    are    provided  with 
lungs  take  in  air  and  effect  cooling  by  means  of  inspira- 
tion    and     expiration.       Now,    viviparous     animals     are  2 
provided  with  lungs,  not  those,  however,  that  bear  their 
living   young    outside    of    themselves    (for    the    cartila- 
ginous  fishes  are  viviparous,  but  not  within   their  own 
bodies  *),    and    amongst     oviparous     animals    those    that 
have  wings  are  provided  with   lungs,  as,  e.g.  birds,  and 
further,  such   animals  as  have  scales,  like  the  tortoises, 
lizards,  and  snakes.      Viviparous  animals  have  a  lung  well  3 
filled  with  blood,  whereas  most  of  the  oviparous  animals 
have  spongy  lungs.  Therefore,  as  we  said  before,  the  latter 
need   less  frequent   respiration.     All  of   them,  however,  4 
do    breathe,   even    those   that    live   and   maintain    their 
existence  in  the  water,  such  as  hydras,  frogs,  crocodiles, 

1  Mammalia  are  Aristotle's  "internally  viparous."  By  "externally 
viviparous "  he  means  the  ovoviparous,  which  are  without  placental 
attachment. 

307 


308  aristotle's  psychology  derespir. 

fresh-water  tortoises,  tortoises  of  the  sea  and  land,  and 
seals.  For  all  of  these  animals,  and  others  similar  to  them, 
bear  their  young  on  the  land,  and  sleep  either  on  land 
or  in  the  water  with  their  mouths  above  the  surface 
476  a  for  respiration.      Animals,  on  the  other  hand,  that  have 

5  gills,  are  cooled  by  taking  in  water.  To  this  class 
belong  the  cartilaginous  fishes  and  other  apodous  animals, 
including  all  fishes.  For  their  organs  of  locomotion  are 
after  the  analogy  of  wings  ([rather  than  feet]).  Amongst 
animals    that   have   feet,  only  one,  so   far   as   has   been 

6  observed,  has  gills,  viz.  the  tadpole,  as  we  call  it.  But 
no  case  has  ever  been  seen  of  the  possession  of  lungs 
and  gills  together.  The  reason  is  that  the  lungs  are 
designed  for  cooling  by  the  admission  of  air  (even  the 
name  irvev/uiwv,  '  lungs/  seems  to  have  been  derived  from 
their  reception  of  irved/jLa,  '  air '),  and  gills  are  designed 
for  cooling  by  the  admission  of  water.  But  only  one 
organ   is    used    for    one    purpose,    and    one    method    of 

7  cooling  is  adequate  for  each  animal.  And  so,  since 
we  know  that  nature  makes  nothing  in  vain,  and  since 
one  of  these  two  organs  would  be  useless,  some  animals 
are  provided  with  gills  and  others  with  lungs,  but  no 
animal  with  both.1 

1Ogle  (op.  cit.  p.  125)  points  out  that  Aristotle  cannot  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  Dipnoi  or  Amphipneusta,  in  both  of  which  groups 
gills  and  lungs  co-exist. 


CHAPTEE    XL 

Since  every  animal  needs  food  for  its  subsistence  and 
cooling  for  its  persistence,  nature  employs  for  these 
two  purposes  one  organ.1  And  as  in  some  animals 
the  tongue  is  employed  for  the  double  purpose  of  tasting 
and  communicating  thought,  so  in  those  which  are 
provided  with  lungs,  the  mouth  serves  for  the  masti- 
cation of  food  as  well  as  for  inspiration  and  expiration 
of  air.  In  those,  on  the  other  hand,  that  have  no  2 
lungs  and  do  not  respire,  the  mouth  serves  for  the 
mastication  of  food,  but  gills  are  provided  for  cooling 
where  cooling  is  needed.  In  what  way  the  functioning 
of  the  aforesaid  organs  effects  cooling,  we  shall  explain  3 
later.  In  order  not  to  hinder  the  admission  of  food, 
a  similar  method  is  employed  by  respiring  animals  and 
by  those  that  take  in  water.  For  in  the  former  case 
they  avoid  respiring  and  swallowing  their  food  at  the 
same  instant,  otherwise  they  would  choke  by  admitting 
liquid  or  solid  food  into  the  lungs  through  the  windpipe. 

lCi.  De  part.  an.  659a  22,  683a  19  ff.  Elsewhere  Aristotle  refers 
also  to  the  nostrils  as  organs  subserving  respiration.  De  part.  an. 
6406  15,  659a  30.     Cf.  also  above  473a  17  ff. 

309 


310  aristotle's  psychology  derespir. 

For  the  windpipe  lies  in  front  of  the  oesophagus,  through 
which   food    finds   its    way   into    the   stomach.      In   the 

4  sanguineous  quadrupeds  the  windpipe  is  provided  with 
a  sort  of  lid  called   the  epiglottis.      In   birds  and  ovi- 

476  £  parous  quadrupeds,  on  the  contrary,  there  is  no  such 
lid,  but  they  attain  the  same  end  by  contracting  the 
windpipe.1  When  food  is  being  swallowed,  the  ovipara 
contract   the   windpipe,  whereas   the  vivipara   close   the 

5  epiglottis.  And  after  the  food  has  passed,  in  the  one 
case  the  windpipe  is  expanded,  and  in  the  other  the 
epiglottis  is  opened,  and  air  is  admitted  for  the  purpose 
of  cooling.  In  regard  to  those  animals  that  are  pro- 
vided with  gills,  they  discharge  the  water  through 
these  and  then  admit  food  through  the  mouth.  They 
have  no  windpipe,  so  that  they  can  suffer  no  harm 
by  the  wrong  discharge  of  water  into  it,  but  only  by 

6  the  entrance  of  water  into  the  stomach.  For  this 
reason,  the  discharge  of  water  and  the  swallowing  of 
food  is  done  rapidly,  and  their  teeth  are  sharp,  and 
in  almost  all  instances  are  serrated,  for  they  cannot 
chew  their  food. 

1  In  the  mammalia  food  is  prevented  from  passing  into  the  windpipe 
during  deglutition  by  the  epiglottis,  which  is  possessed  by  no  other 
animals,  while  in  other  vertebrates  this  function  is  performed  by  the 
closing  of  the  larynx  through  muscular  constriction  (De  part.  an. 
664?)  22).  Cf.  also  Hist.  an.  535a  29  ff.  and  De  an.  4206  29,  where  the 
functions  of  these  organs  in  speech  are  treated. 


CHAPTEE    XII. 

Eegarding  the  cetaceous  aquatic  animals,  such  as  dolphins, 
whales,  and  such  others  as  have  what  is  known  as  a  spout- 
organ,  one  might  feel  some  doubt,  yet  even  these  conform 
to  our  theory.  For  they  are  apodous,  and  although  they 
have  lungs  they  take  in  sea-water.  The  ground  for  this 
apparent  exception  is  given  in  the  foregoing  explanation ; 
for  the  end  to  which  they  take  in  water  is  not  cooling.  2 
This  is  produced  in  their  case  by  means  of  respiration,  for 
they  have  lungs.  Consequently,  they  sleep  with  their 
mouths  above  the  water's  surface,  and  dolphins,  it  is 
certain,  snore.  Again,  when  they  are  caught  in  nets,  they 
soon  suffocate  from  lack  of  respiration.  It  is  in  order  to 
breathe,  then,  that  we  observe  them  lying  on  the  sea's  sur- 
face. Since,  however,  they  are  forced  to  take  their  food  in  3 
the  water,  they  must  on  swallowing  discharge  the  water, 
and  for  this  reason  they  are  all  provided  with  a  spout-organ. 
When  they  have  taken  in  water  they  discharge  it  through 
this  spout-organ,  just  as  fishes  do  through  their  gills.  A 
proof  of  this  fact  is  the  position  of  the  spout-organ.  It  4 
does  not  lead  to  any  of  the  blood-filled  organs,  but  is 
situated    in    front    of    the    brain    and    discharges    the 

311 


312  aristotle's  psychology  derespir. 

water *  here.  For  the  same  reason  the  molluscs  and 
crustaceans  admit  and  discharge  water.  I  mean  the  sea- 
crayfish  and  crabs,  as  we  call  them.     They  make  no  use  of  it 

5  for  cooling,  for  they  are  endowed  with  only  a  small  amount 
of  heat  and  are  in  every  case  bloodless,  so  that  they  are 

477  a  kept  cool  enough  by  the  surrounding  water.  But  it  is 
discharged  on  account  of  their  food,  viz.  in  order  that  the 
water  may  not  enter  at  the  moment  of  swallowing.     The 

6  crustaceans,  such  as  the  sea-crayfish  and  crabs,  discharge 
the  water  through  the  plaited  folds  along  their  shaggy 
covering ;  the  purple  fish  and  polyps  discharge  it 
through    the   hollow    passage    above    the   head.       These 

7  questions  have  been  treated  with  greater  detail  in  the 
History  of  Animals?  Concerning  the  phenomenon  of  the 
admission  and  discharge  of  water,  we  have  said  that  it  is 
due,  in  certain  cases,  to  the  need  of  cooling,  and  in  others 
to  the  fact  that  aquatic  animals  are  obliged  to  swallow 
their  food  in  the  water. 

2Ogle  {op.  cit.  p.  127)  cites  Cuvier  {Begne  animal,  i.  285)  as  giving 
the  same  explanation  of  the  purpose  of  the  blowhole,  and  says  it  is  still 
the  popularly  received,  although  erroneous,  view.  Its  actual  use  is  to 
provide  an  additional  safeguard  (besides  the  epiglottis)  against  the 
entrance  of  water  into  the  air  passages. 

2  Hist.  an.  525a  30  ff. 


CHAPTEK    XIII. 

We  must  next  describe  the  method  by  which  cooling  is 
effected  in  respiring  animals  and  in  those  provided  with 
gills.  We  have  already  said  that  animals  which  have 
limgs  respire.  As  to  the  reason  why  some  animals  have  2 
this  organ  and  why  those  that  have  it  need  respiration,  it 
is  because  the  higher  order  of  animals  are  endowed  with 
greater  heat.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  that  they  are 
endowed  with  a  higher  order  of  soul.  For  such  beings 
are  of  a  higher  order  than  plants.  Consequently,  animals  3 
whose  lungs  are  more  abundantly  supplied  with  blood  and 
heat  are  of  greater  bodily  dimensions  than  others ;  and 
the  animal  that  is  supplied  with  the  purest  and  most 
abundant  blood,  i.e.  man,  is  the  most  erect  of  all  animals, 
and  his  upper  structure  points  to  the  upper  region  of  the 
universe — true  of  him  alone — because  he  has  lungs 
constituted  as  we  have  described.  The  essential  character 
both  of  man  and  of  other  animals  must,  therefore,  be 
ascribed  as  much  to  this  as  to  any  other  organ.  This,  4 
then,  is  the  purpose  of  the  lungs.  One  must  suppose  that 
the  material  conditions  and  moving  cause  have  constructed 
these  animals  in  this  way,  as  they  have  also  operated  to 

313 


314  ARISTOTLE'S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  respir. 

produce  other  animals  with  a  different  constitution.  For 
some  are  composed  chiefly  of  earth,  like  plants,  others 
chiefly  of  water,  like  aquatic  animals.  And  amongst  the 
winged  and  terrestrial  animals,  the  one  class  is  composed 
chiefly  of  air  and  the  other  of  fire.  And  they  severally 
have  their  place  in  regions  akin  to  their  own  natures. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Empedocles  *    was    wrong    in    saying    that   the    aquatic 
animals  are  warmest  and   contain   most  fire,  and,  being  477 
defective    in    cold    and    fluid,    they    seek    refuge    from 
constitutional    excess   of    heat   in   a    medium    to   which 
their  nature  is  opposed.      For  water  is  cooler  than  air. 
It  is,  however,  altogether  unintelligible  how  animals  born  2 
on  dry  land  can  change  their  place  of  abode  to  water. 
For  they  are,  in  almost  all  cases,  apodous.      And   yet, 
when  speaking  of  their  primary  constitution,  he  asserts 
they  are  born  on  the  dry  land  and  later  leave  this  and 
migrate    to   the   water.      Again,   our    observation    shows  3 
that  they  are  not  warmer   than   land  animals ;    for  some 
of  them  are  absolutely  bloodless,  while  others  are  almost 

1  The  writings  are  no  longer  extant  from  which  Aristotle  derived 
these  views  of  Empedocles.  Lucretius,  who  was  a  follower  of 
Epicurus,  and  an  admirer  of  Empedocles  (cf.  De  rer.  not.  i.  66,  716  ff.), 
gives  expression  to  the  same  view  {De  rer.  nat.  v.  793),  that  land 
animals  cannot  have  migrated  from  water  {salsis  lacunis)  to  the  land  ; 
on  the  contrary,  all  animals  are  land-born  (a  terra  quoniam  sunt  cuncta 
creata).  The  theory  of  Empedocles  was  allied  to  the  ancient  myth  of 
the  Autochthons.  Anaximander,  on  the  contrary,  taught  the  evolution 
of  animals  from  the  moist  element  under  the  influence  of  the  sun's 
heat  (Ritter  and  Preller,  Philos.  graec.  p.   19a). 

315 


316  ARISTOTLE'S    PSYCHOLOGY  de  respir. 

so.  But  what  kind  of  animals  we  should  call  warm  and 
what  kind  cold,  is  a  subject  itself  that  requires  investiga- 
tion. Eegarding  the  explanation  given  by  Empedocles, 
his   contention  is,   in    a   certain   sense,   correct,   although 

4  what  he  says  is  not  entirely  true.  For  it  is  true  that 
regions  and  seasons  which  exhibit  characteristics  opposed 
to  abnormal  conditions  in  animals  tend  to  preserve  them, 
and  yet  their  normal  nature  is  best  preserved  in  a  place  of 
abode  similar  to  their  own  constitution.  For  the  matter 
out  of  which  animals  are  severally  constituted  must  not 
be  confounded  with  the  varying  states  and  conditions  of 

5  this  matter.  I  mean,  e.g.  if  a  thing  were  formed  of 
wax  or  ice,  its  preservation  would  not  be  secured  by 
placing  it  in  a  hot  environment.  For,  owing  to  the 
opposed  nature  of  its  surroundings,  it  would  be  quickly 
destroyed,  for  heat  melts  that  which  consists  of  the 
contrary  nature.  Again,  if  a  thing  were  composed  of 
salt  or  nitre,  nature  would  not  carry  it  and  set  it  down 
in  a  wet  environment,  for  water  dissolves  substances  of  a 

6  warm,  dry  constitution.  If,  therefore,  the  fluid  and  solid 
constitute  the  matter  out  of  which  all  bodies  are  formed, 
it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  fluid  and  cold  structures 
will  be  found  in  a  moist  environment ;  solid  structures, 
on  the  other  hand,  in  a  solid  environment.  Consequently, 
trees  do  not  grow  in  water,  but  in  the  earth ;   although, 

7  according  to  this  same  theory  of  Empedocles,  they  should 
migrate  to  the  water,  because  of  their  being  predominantly 
dry,  or,  to  use  his  expression,  "  predominantly  fiery." 
This  migration  would  be  to  water  not  because  it  is  cold, 
but  because  it  is  fluid.  The  natural  constitution  of 
matter,  therefore,  conforms  to  the  environment  in  which 


chap.  xiv.  HEAT   AND    ENVIRONMENT  317 

it  is  found — the  moist,  e.g.  is  found  in  water,  the  warm  8 
in  the  air.  Acquired  conditions,  however,  are  better  478  a 
regulated  through  an  opposite  environment,  excessive 
heat  through  cold  surroundings,  and  excessive  cold 
through  warm  surroundings.  For  the  environment 
reduces  the  excess  in  these  conditions  and  brings  them 
to  an  equable  mean.  This  reduction  is  to  be  sought  in 
an  environment  adapted  to  the  particular  constitution 
of  the  thing  and  in  the  variations  of  ordinary  climate. 
For  acquired  conditions  may  be  opposed  to  the  place 
of  abode,  but  this  is  impossible  in  the  case  of  the  original 
constitution. 

Touching  the  theory  of  Empedocles  that  animals  are  9 
divided  into   aquatic   and    land  animals  on  the  basis  of 
differences  in  natural  heat,  and  touching  the  explanation 
of  the  phenomenon  that  the  one  class  has  lungs  and  the 
other  not,  let  the  foregoing  discussion  suffice. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

The  reason  why  animals  with  lungs  can  take  in  air 
and  respire,  especially  such  as  have  lungs  well  filled 
with  blood,  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  the  lungs  are 
porous  and  filled  with  tubes.  The  lungs  contain  more 
blood  than  any  other  organ  in  what  we  call  the  viscera. 

2  Animals  whose  lungs  are  abundantly  supplied  with  blood 
need  rapid  refrigeration,  because  of  the  delicate  balanc- 
ing of  the  natural  heat,  and  because  the  cooling  process 
must  penetrate  through  the  entire  interior,  owing  to  the 
great  supply  of  blood  and  heat.  Air  can  easily  meet 
both  these  demands.  For  owing  to  its  rarity,  it  rapidly 
penetrates  everywhere,  and  effects  cooling.1     This  is  not 

3  true  of  water.  It  is  also  plain  from  this  why  it  is  that 
animals  which  have  lungs  well  filled  with  blood  breathe 
best.  It  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  warmer  the  nature 
the  greater  is  the  need  of  cooling,  and  at  the  same 
time  that  the  air  fills  the  lungs,  it  passes  readily  to  the 
original  source  of  animal  heat  in  the  heart. 

1  Empedocles  and  Plato  supposed  that  the  air  penetrated  through  the 
pores  of  the  skin,  which  in  their  theories  became  channels  of  venti- 
lation. 

318 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

The  way  in  which  a  passage  is  made  between  heart 
and  lungs  must  be  studied  through  dissection,  and  in  the 
History  of  Animals}  Animal  nature,  in  general,  needs 
cooling,  because  of  the  vital  fire  in  the  heart.  This  is 
accomplished  by  means  of  respiration,  excepting  in  those 
cases  where  animals  are  provided  with  a  heart  only  but 
no  lungs.  When  they  have  a  heart  but  no  lungs,  as  is  2 
the  case  in  fishes,  whose  natural  abode  is  water,  cooling  is 
attained  by  water  through  the  use  of  the  gills.  In  regard 
to  the  relative  positions  of  heart  and  gills,  one  must  study 
them  ocularly  in  dissection  and  their  nicer  philosophy  in  478  £ 
the  History  of  Animals.  To  give  a  summary  descrip- 
tion, however,  the  case  is  as  follows  :  One  might  suppose  3 
that  the  position  of  the  heart  in  land  and  aquatic 
animals  was  different ;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  the 
same  in  both.  For  the  direction  in  which  the  animal's 
head  naturally  inclines  is  the  direction  in  which  the 
heart's  apex  is  turned.  But  inasmuch  as  the  heads  of 
land    animals    do   not  incline  in   the  same   direction   as 

1  Cf .   Hist.  an.  496a   5  ff.,  5116   24,  where   an   historical  account  of 
theories  regarding  the  anatomy  of  the  blood-ducts  is  given. 

319 


320  ARISTOTLE'S  PSYCHOLOGY  de  respir. 

those  of  aquatic  animals,  the  heart's  apex  in  the  latter 

4  case  is  turned  towards  the  mouth.  A  sinewy  vein-like 
tube  extends  from  the  extremity  of  the  heart1  to  a 
central  point,  where  all  the  gills  are  united.  This  is  the 
largest  of  all  the  tubes,  but  there  are  others  on  each  side 
of  the  heart  which  extend  to  the  several  extremities  of 
the  gills,  whereby  cooling  is  produced  and  transmitted 
to  the  heart,  the  water  being  constantly  piped  through 

5  the  gills.  The  rapid  swelling  and  falling  motion  of 
the  thorax  in  inhaling  and  exhaling  air  serves  the  same 
purpose  in  respiring  animals  that  the  movement  of  gills 
does  in  fishes.  Kespiring  animals  suffocate  in  a  small 
quantity  of  air  that  remains  unchanged ;  for  each  medium 
([water  as  well  as  air])  soon  becomes  hot,  and  contact 

6  with  the  blood  heats  them.  When,  however,  the  blood 
becomes  hot,  the  process  of  cooling  is  impeded.  Also 
when  respiring  animals  become  unable  to  inflate  their 
lungs,  or  aquatic  animals  to  move  their  gills,  whether 
owing  to  disease  or  to  the  weakness  of  old  age,  their 
end  must  be  at  hand. 

1  The  aortic  bulb,  which  Aristotle  took  to  be  the  heart's  apex. 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

Birth  and  death  are  phenomena  common  to  all  animals, 
although  there  are  specific  differences  in  their  modes  of 
occurrence.  Death  is  not  everywhere  the  same,  although 
in  its  varied  forms  there  is  a  common  element.  Death 
ensues  from  violence  or  from  the  ordinary  course  of  nature. 
Death  is  violent  when  due  to  an  external  cause,  natural 
when  due  to  internal  processes.  The  latter  conforms  to 
the  original  organic  structure,  and  is  not  an  adventitious 
condition.  In  plants  this  process  is  called  decay  ;  in  2 
animals,  senility.  Death  and  decay  attach  to  all  organ- 
isms alike  that  are  complete,  and  to  the  incomplete  also, 
but  in  a  different  way.  Under  incomplete,  I  understand 
such  things  as  eggs,  and  seeds  of  plants  which  as  yet 
have  not  taken  root.  Death  is  caused  in  all  things  by 
lack  of  heat ;  in  complete  organisms  by  its  failure  in  that 
part  where  the  vital  principle  is  lodged.  This  principle  3 
is  lodged,  as  we  said  above,  in  the  middle  region,  where 
the  upper  and  lower  parts  are  conjoined.  In  plants  it  is 
the  point  at  which  stem  and  root  unite  ;  in  sanguineous 
animals,  it  is  the  heart ;  in  bloodless  animals,  in  an  organ  479  « 
analogous  to  the  heart.     In  some  of  the  bloodless  animals 

X  321 


322  aristotle's  psychology         de  respir. 

we    find    many    vital     centres    potentially,    though    not 

4  actually.  For  this  reason  certain  insects,  when  divided, 
continue  to  live,  and  such  sanguineous  animals  as  are  not 
highly  organized  live  a  considerable  time  after  the  removal 
of  the  heart,  as  is  true  of  tortoises.  Tortoises  continue  to 
move  their  feet1  so  long  as  their  shell  is  not  removed, 
because  their  organization  is  of  a  lower  order,  resembling 

5  in  this  respect  the  insects.  The  vital  principle  succumbs 
in  its  possessor  when  the  heat  which  is  its  accompaniment 
is  not  reduced  by  cooling.     For  otherwise,  as  we  have 

6  often  remarked,  it  is  consumed  by  its  own  agency.  When, 
therefore,  the  lungs  or  gills  respectively  become  hardened, 
or  dried  up  and  earthy  through  lapse  of  time,2  it  is 
impossible  for  these  organs  to  function,  to  dilate  and 
contract.     And  finally,  when  a  further  demand  is  made 

7  upon  them,  the  fire  of  life  is  extinguished.  Consequently, 
death  quickly  ensues  in  old  age,  even  on  the  appearance 
of  trivial  ailments.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
there  is  little  heat  left  in  old  age,  most  of  it  having 
been  exhaled  in  a  long  life,  and  if  any  extra  strain 
is  put  upon  the  lungs,  life  is  speedily  quenched. 
For    the    fire    within,    being     now    but    a    tiny    feeble 

8  flame,  is  extinguished  by  a  slight  movement.  That  is 
also  the  reason  why  death  in  old  age  is  painless,  for 
death  comes  to  the  aged  with  no  element  of  violence 
in   it,   rather   the   dissolution   of  the  soul   occurs    quite 

9  without  their  feeling  it.      Diseases  which  make  the  lungs 

1  Ogle  [op.  cit.  p.  132)  points  out  that  this  passage  shows  that 
Aristotle  occasionally  vivisected  animals,  and  cites  the  following 
passages :  Hist.  an.  5036  23;  De  gen.  an.  765a  26,  7746  31. 

2  Or  through  the  hardening  (by  drying)  effects  of  fever  or  accretions 
of  matter  on  the  lungs'  surface. 


chap.  xvii.  EXTINCTION   OF   LIFE     .  323 

hard,  whether  by  tubercles  or  deposits  or  by  excessive 
morbid  heat,  as  in  fevers,  produce  an  acceleration  of  the 
breathing,  because  the  lungs  are  incapable  of  full  expansion 
and  contraction.  And  finally,  when  motion  is  no  longer 
possible,  men  exhale  their  breath  and  die. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Birth,  then,  is  the  original  suffusion  of  the  nutritive  soul 
with  heat,  and  life  is  the  maintenance  of  this  heat. 
Youth  is  commensurate  with  the  growth  of  the  primary 
organ  of  cooling,  old  age  with  the  wasting  of  the  organ, 
and  the  prime  of  life  with  the  middle  period  between  the 

2  two.  Death  and  violent  destruction  mean  respectively 
the  exhaustion  *  and  extinction  of  the  vital  heat  (for  it  is 

479  b  destroyed  from  both  causes) ;  exhaustion  is  given  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing  itself,  and  is  caused  by  lapse  of  time 

3  and  by  the  completion  of  a  normal  term  of  life.  In 
plants  this  is  called  decay ;  in  animals,  death.  Death  in 
old  age  is  due  to  the  exhaustion  of  the  organism  that 
comes  from  senile  inability  to  effect  cooling.  We  have 
now  explained  the  meaning  of  birth,  life,  and  death,  and 
have  treated  the  causes  of  these  phenomena  in  animals. 

1  Extinction  (<r(3fois)  is  violent  or  artificial;  exhaustion  (/xdpavais)  is 
natural  or  due  to  the  inherent  nature  of  the  thing  itself.  Cf.  De  vit.  et 
mort.  4696  23  ;  De  resp.  4746  14. 


324 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 

Fbom  these  considerations  one  may  clearly  see  why  it  is 
that  respiring  animals  are  suffocated  in  water,  while 
fishes  are  suffocated  in  the  air.1  For  in  one  case  cooling 
is  effected  by  the  medium  of  water ;  in  the  other  by  that 
of  air,  and  both  of  them  are  deprived  of  this  by  the 
change  in  their  place  of  abode.  We  have  further  to  2 
explain  the  movement 2  in  gills  and  lungs  respectively, — 
exhalation  and  inhalation  in  the  one  case,  and  the 
admission  and  discharge  of  water  in  the  other.  We 
have  also  to  explain  the  structure  of  the  organ  of 
respiration  in  what  follows.3 

1  Vid.  note  1,  p.  291. 

2  i.e.  by  the  movements  of  these  organs  the  cooling  medium  (air  or 
water)  is  admitted  to  the  organism  and  the  temperature  regulated. 

3  The  explanation  follows  in  Chapter  xxi.      Ogle  (p.  132)  considers 
Chapter  xx.  an  interpolation. 


325 


CHAPTER  XX. 

There  are  three  phenomena  regarding  the  heart,  which 
might  be  supposed  to  have  the  same  nature,  but  are 
different,    viz.     palpitation,    pulsation,     and     respiration. 

2  Now,  palpitation  is  a  compression  of  heat  in  the  heart, 
owing  to  cooling  in  other  parts  of  the  body  produced 
by  excretion  or  waste,  such  as  we  see  in  the  disease 
called  palpitation  of  the  heart,  as  well  as  in  other 
diseases,  and  in  fear  also.  In  fear  the  upper  regions 
of  the  body  are  cold,  and  their  heat  is  discharged 
and  collected  in  the  heart,  where  palpitation  is  caused, 
and  the  heat  being  thus  compressed  into  a  small  space, 
it  sometimes  happens  that    animals  are    suffocated    and 

3  die  from  fear  and  its  morbid  conditions.  The  pheno- 
menon of  pulsation,  however,  that  occurs  in  the  heart, 
and  which,  as  we  see,  is  a  constant  process,  is  similar 
to  the  throbbing  in  an  abscess.  In  the  latter  the  move- 
ment is  painful  owing  to  abnormal  change  in  the  blood. 
This   process  continues   to   a  point   where   the  blood  is 

4  concocted  and  converted  into  pus.  The  condition  is 
analogous  to  boiling.  For  boiling  takes  place  when 
water  is  evaporated  by  heat,  and  it  bubbles  up  owing  to 

326 


chap.  xx.  MOVEMENTS    OF    THE    HEART  327 

its  increase  in  volume.  The  development  of  abscesses 
is  arrested  when  the  pus  is  not  evaporated  and  the  liquid 
becomes  very  thick ;  the  process  in  boiling  is  arrested  480  a 
when  the  confining  vessel  is  overflowed.  The  supply  of  5 
moisture  derived  from  food  and  its  expansion  through 
heat  produces  pulsation  in  the  heart, — the  expansion 
extending  to  the  heart's  outer  covering.  And  this  is  a 
constant  process,  for  the  flow  of  fluid  to  the  heart,  out  of 
which  the  blood  is  generated,  is  constant.  It  is  in  the 
heart  that  blood  is  first  formed.  One  can  observe  this  6 
plainly  in  the  growth  of  an  embryo.1  For  before  the 
veins  are  distinguishable  the  heart  is  seen  to  contain 
blood.  Pulsation,  for  this  reason,  is  more  marked  in 
youth  than  in  old  age.  For  the  process  of  evaporation 
is  stronger  in  youth.  The  blood  vessels  all  pulsate,  and  7 
they  do  so  simultaneously,  for  they  are  all  connected 
with  the  heart  and  originate  in  it.  The  heart,  however, 
is  in  constant  motion.  So,  too,  the  blood  vessels  are  in 
constant  motion,  and  simultaneously  with  each  other,  as 
long  as  the  heart  moves.  Palpitation,  then,  is  a  re- 
action in  the  heart  due  to  the  compression  of  heat  by 
the  cooling  of  other  parts  of  the  body ;  pulsation  is  the 
evaporation  of  the  moist  element  as  it  becomes  heated. 

xCf.  note  1,  p.  276. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

Respiration  is  due  to  the  increase  of  the  heated  element,  in 
which  the  nutritive  principle  is  lodged.  As  all  other  bodily 
elements  need  maintenance,  so  does  this  element  of  vital 
heat,  and  even  in  a  greater  degree  than  the  others,  for  it  is 
the  source  of  maintenance  for  the  other  elements.  When 
it  is  increased,  it  necessarily  expands  the  organ  in  which  it 
2  is  found.  One  must  conceive  the  structure  of  this  organ  to 
resemble  a  brazier's  bellows.  For  neither  lungs  nor  heart 
differ  very  much  from  a  form  such  as  is  illustrated  by  a 
bellows.  Both  are  double.1  The  nutritive  principle  must 
be  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  vital  power.2  The  lungs 
then  increase  and  expand,  and,  by  expanding,  the  part 
in  which  they  are  lodged  must  also  expand.  We  see  this 
[3  when  we  respire.  For  the  thorax  is  then  expanded, 
because  the  inherent  principle  in  this  part  is  expanded. 
Owing  to  this  expansion,  as  one  sees  in  the  bellows, 
cold  air  must  be  introduced  from  without  and,  by 
480  b  its  cooling  effect,  the  excess  of  internal  heat  is  lowered. 

1  There  was  a  double  as  well  as  single  form  of  bellows  in  use  in  ancient 
Greece. 

2  Ogle  adopts  a  conjecture  of  Mr.  Poste — ^vktlktjs  for  (pvaiKrjs. 

328 


chap.  xxt.  CONDITIONS   OF   LIFE  329 

But  just  as  the  organ  was  expanded  owing  to  the  increase  4 
of  heat,  so  now  it  necessarily  contracts  when  the  heat  is 
diminished,  and  by  contracting,  the  air  which  was  inhaled 
is  again  discharged — air  that  was  cold  when  admitted,  but 
warm  when  discharged  owing  to  contact  with  the  heat 
inherent  in  the  organ,  especially  in  the  case  of  animals 
whose  lungs  are  well-filled  with  blood.  The  air  enters 
through  a  mass  of  pipes,  canals  as  it  were,  with  which  the 
lungs  are  provided,  and  blood  vessels  extend  alongside  each 
of  these  pipes,  so  that  the  entire  lung  appears  to  be  filled 
with  blood.  The  admission  of  air  is  termed  inspiration,  5 
and  its  discharge,  expiration.  The  process  of  respiration 
is  continuous,  so  long  as  life  and  this  organic  motion 
continue.  Life,  therefore,  is  given  in  the  processes  of 
inspiration  and  expiration.  The  movement  of  the  gills 
in  fishes  is  produced  in  the  same  way.  For  by  the  6 
expansion  of  the  blood's  heat  in  its  course  through  the 
members,  the  gills  are  lifted  and  water  passes  through. 
When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  heat  retreats  to  the  heart 
through  the  channels  and  cooling  is  effected,  the  gills  are 
lowered  and  the  water  passes  out.  The  expansion  of  the 
heart's  heat  is  constant  and  its  re-admission  when  cooled 
is  constant.  And  so  in  animals  provided  with  lungs,  life 
and  death  are  ultimately  conditioned  by  respiration,  and 
in  fishes  by  the  admission  of  water. 

This,  then,  is  a  statement  of  our  views  of  life  and  death  7 
and  of  almost  all  the  questions  germane  to  them.     It  is 
the  province   not  only  of  the  physician,  but  also  of  the 
natural   philosopher,  up    to   a   certain   point,1  to   discuss 
questions  of  health  and  disease.     We  must  not,  however, 

1  Reading  /ue'xp'  tov  for  fJ-^xP1  T°v- 


330  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY  de  respir. 

forget  how  these  two  classes  of  men  differ  and  how  they 
regard  a  subject  from  different  points  of  view,  although 
experience  shows  that  both  professions  are,  to  a  certain 
extent  at  least,  conterminous.  For  the  better  educated 
and  more  painstaking  physicians  are  conversant  with  the 
laws  of  nature  and  deem  it  correct  to  derive  their  principles 
of  practice  from  this  source,  while  the  best  trained 
philosophers l  of  nature  almost  always  conclude  with  a 
discussion  of  the  principles  of  medicine. 

1  Cf.  De  sensu,  436a  19  ff. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


***  The  following  works  have  been  found  valuable  in  the  preparation  of  the 
present  volume.  Further  titles  are  referred  to  in  the  notes.  Only  such  works  are 
included  as  have  immediate  reference  to  the  Psychology.  For  a  more  varied  and 
complete  bibliography  see  M.  Schwab,  Bibliographie  d'Aristote  (Paris,  Librarie  H. 
Welter,  1896). 

Alexandri   Aphrodisiensis   praeter   commentaria   scripta   minora   de 

anima  cum  Mantissa.     Ed.  Bruns.    Berolini,  1887. 
Aristotle.     De  anima.     Recen.  A.  Torstrik.     Berolini,  1862. 

—  De  anima.    Becog.  et  comment,  illust.  Trendelenburg.    Ed.  altera, 

Berolini,  1877. 

—  De  anima.     Becog.  W.  Biehl.     Lipsiae,  1884. 

—  De  anima  lib.  B  secundum  recensionem  vaticanam.     Ed.  H.  Rabe. 

Berolini,  1891. 

—  Barva  naturalia.     Becog.  W.  Biehl.     Lipsiae,  1898. 

—  Opera  omnia,  ex  recensione  Bekkeri.     5  vol.     Berolini,  1831-1870. 

—  Opera  omnia,  ex  recensione  Bekkeri.     11  vol.      Oxonii,  1837. 

—  Opera  omnia  graece  et  latine.     5  vol.     Parisiis,  Didot,  1848-1869. 
Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire,    Psychologie    (Traite"    de   l'ame),    trad,    par 

Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire.     Paris,  1846. 

—  Psychologie  (Opuscules),  trad,  par  Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire.    Paris, 

1847. 
Baumker,  C.      Des   Aristoteles   Lehre  von  den  aussern  und  innern 

Sinnesvermogen.     Leipzig,  1S77,  pp.  91. 
Beare,  J.  I.   Aristotle's  Parva  Naturalia.   Hermathena,  vol.  ix.  (1894), 

pp.  1-29. 

—  Notes  on  Aristotle's  Parva  Naturalia.    Hermathena,  vol.  x.  (1899), 

pp.  455-473. 
Beck,  H.     Aristoteles  de  sensuum  actione.     Berolini,  1860,  pp.  55. 
Bender,  W.     Schrift  iiber  die  Seele.    Ubers.  von  Bender.     Stuttgart, 

1872. 

—  Die  kleinen  naturwissenschaftlichen  Schriften  (Parva  Naturalia). 

tjbers.  von  Bender.     Stuttgart,  1873. 
Biehl,   W.     Uber  die  aristotelische  Definition  der   Seele.     Leipzig, 
1863.      Verhandlungen    der    21sten.     Versammlung    deutscher 
Bhilologen  und  Schulmanner  zu  Augsburg,  pp.  94-102, 

—  Uber  den  Begriff  vovs  bei  Aristoteles.     Linz,  1864,  pp.  20. 

Biese,    R.     Die    Erkenntnisslehre   des   Aristoteles    und    Kant's    in 
Vergleichung  ihrer  Grundprincipien.     Berlin,  1877,  pp.  74. 

Bobba,  B.     La  dottrina  dell'  intelletto  in  Aristotile.     Torino,   1896, 
pp.  479. 

331 


332  aristotle's  psychology 

Bonitz,  H.     Aristotelische  Studien.     Wien,  1863-67. 

—  tjber  das   erste    Buch    der    aristotel.    Schrift    uber    die    Seele. 

Monatsber.  der  Konigl.  Preuss.  Akad.  d.  Wiss.,  1873,  pp.  481  ff. 

Brentano,  F.  Von  der  mannigfachen  Bedeutung  des  Seienden  nach 
Aristoteles.     Freiburg  i/B.,  1862,  pp.  220. 

—  Die  Psychologie  des  Aristoteles,  insbesondere  seine  Lehre  vom  vovs 

TronjTiKos.     Mainz,  1867,  pp.  252. 

—  Offener   Brief  an   Herrn  Professor  Dr.   Eduard  Zeller.    Leipzig, 

1883,  pp.  36. 
Bullinger,  A.     Des  Aristoteles  Erhabenheit   uber   alien  Dualismus. 
Miinchen,  1878,  pp.  94. 

—  Aristoteles'  Nus-Lehre.     Dillingen,  1882,  pp.  73. 

Chaignet,  A.  E.     Essai  sur  la  psychologie  d'Aristote.     Paris,  1883. 
Collier,    C.     Treatise  on  the  Principle  of  Life.      Translated  by  C. 

Collier.     Cambridge,  1855. 
Deinhardt,  J.  H.     Der  Begriff  der  Seele  mit  Riicksicht  auf  Aristoteles. 

Hamburg,  1840. 
Eberhard,  E.     Die  aristotelische  Definition  der  Seele  und  ihr  Werth 

fur  die  Gegenwart.     Berlin,  1868,  pp.  62. 
Essen,  E.    Die  I.  und  II.  Biicher  der  aristotelischen  Schrift  uber  die 

Seele.     Jena,  1892,  1894. 
Freudenthal,    J.       Uber    den    Begriff    des     Wortes     cpavraaia    bei 

Aristoteles.     Gottingen,  1863,  pp.  59. 

—  Uber  das  Buch  7repl  tQv  kolvCjv  adjfx.aTos  /ecu  ^vxv?  epywv.    Rheinisches 

Museum,  vol.  xxiv.  (1869),  pp.  81-93,  392-419. 

—  Zu  Aristoteles  de  memoria,  452.    Archiv  fur  Geschichte  der  Philos. , 

1888,  pp.  5-13. 

Frohschammer,  J.  Uber  die  Principien  der  aristotelischen  Philo- 
sophic und  die  Bedeutung  der  Phantasie  in  derselben.  Miinchen, 
1881,  pp.  143. 

Granger,  F.  Aristotle's  Theory  of  Reason.  Classical  Review,  Vol. 
vi.  (July,  1892). 

—  Aristotle's  Theory  of  Reason.    Mind,  Vol.  xviii.  (1893),  pp.  307-318. 
Grote,  G.     Aristotle.     London,  1872,  2  vols. 

Giithling,    K.    E.      Die  Lehre    Aristoteles   von    den    Seelentheilen. 

Liegnitz,  1S82,  pp.   11. 
Hammond,  W.  A.     Aristotle's  Doctrine  of  (pavraala.     Proceedings  of 

the  Amer.  Philol.  Assoc,  Vol.  xxxii. 

—  Aristotle's  Doctrine  of  the  Central  or  Common  Sense.     Proceed- 

ings of  the  Amer.  Philol.  Assoc,  for  July,  1897,  pp.  ix.  ff. 

—  Aristotle's   Doctrine   of   \pvxh   as   biological   principle.      Psychol. 

Rev.,  Vol.  v.  (1898),  pp.  159  f. 

—  Theory  of  the  Will  in  Aristotle's  Ethics.     Psychol.  Review,  Vol. 

vi.  (1899),  pp.  169  f. 
Hartenstein,    G.       De   psychologiae   vulgaris    origine   ab   Aristotele 

repetendo.     Lipsiae,  1846,  pp.  19. 
Heman,  K.     Zur  Geschichte  der  Lehre  von  der  Freiheit  des  mensch- 

lichen  Willens.     Erstes  Heft.     Leipzig,  1887,  pp.  194. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  333 

Hepner,  E.      Abhandlung  von   dem  Gedachtniss  und  der    Wieder- 
erinnerung.      Ubersetzt  von  E.  Hepner,  1824. 

—  Abhandlung  vom  Schlafe  und  vom  Wachen.    Aus  dem  Griecbischen 

iibers.  von  E.  Hepner.     Breslau,  1824. 

Hertling,   G.   F.   von.      Materie  und  Form  und    die  Definition  der 
Seele  bei  Aristoteles.     Bonn,  1871,  pp.  178. 

Joannis  Philoponi  in  Aristotelis  De  anima  libros  commentaria.     Ed. 
Hayduck.     Berolini,  1897. 

Kampe,    F.    F.      Die    Erkenntnisstheorie   des   Aristoteles.     Leipzig, 

1870,  pp.  334. 
Kirchmann,  G.   H.  von.     Drei  Biicber   von    der   Seele.     Ubers.  und 

erklart  von  G.  H.  von  Kirchmann.    Berlin,  1871. 
Kreuz,    F.    A.      Drei  Biicher  von  der  Seele.      Ubers.  von   Kreuz. 

Stuttgart,  1847. 

—  Kleine    Abhandlungen    iiber    die    Seele.       Ubers.     von    Kreuz. 

Stuttgart,  1847. 
Lewes,  G.   H.     Aristotle.     A  chapter  from  the  History  of  Science. 

London,  1864,  pp.  404. 
Meyer,   J.   B.     Die   Thierkunde   des   Aristoteles.     Ein   Beitrag   zur 

Geschichte   der    Zoologie,    Physiologie,   und   alten   Philosophic. 

Berlin,  1855,  pp.  520. 
Michaelis,  K.  G.     Zu  Aristoteles  de  anima  iii.  3.    Neu-Strelitz,  1882, 

pp.  20. 
Muller,    Johannes.      Aristoteles   iiber   den   Traum.      Eine   physiolo- 

gische  Urkunde.     Coblentz,  1826. 
—  Uber  die  phantastischen  Gesichtserscheinungen.     Coblentz,  1826. 
Neuhauser,  J.     Aristoteles  Lehre  von  dem  sinnlichen   Erkenntniss- 

vermogen  und  seinen  Organen.     Leipzig,  1878,  pp.  132. 
Ogle,  W.     On  Youth  and  Old  Age,  Life  and  Death,  and  Respiration. 

Trans,  with  introduction  and  notes  by  W.  Ogle.     London,  1S97, 

pp.  135. 
Partzsch,  T.    Aristoteles  Lehre  von  der  Seele  nach  ihren  Grundziigen. 

Dresden,  1873,  pp.  35. 
Philibert,  H.     Du  principe  de  la  vie  suivant  Aristote.     Paris,  1865. 
Philippson,  L.    "T\rj  dvOpcowivr}.    Partes  duae.    Berolini,  1831,  pp.  252. 
Poppelreuter,    H.      Zur    Psychologie    des    Aristoteles,    Theophrast, 

und  Strato.     Leipzig,  1892,  pp.  52. 
Pouchet,  G.     La  biologie  aristotelique.    Paris,  1885. 
Ritter,    B.      Die   Grundprincipien    der    aristotelischen    Seelenlehre. 

Jena,  1880,  pp.  32. 
Rodier,  G.    Aristote.     Trai^e  de  l'ame.     Traduit  et  annote  par  G. 

Rodier.     2  vols.     Paris,  1900. 
Schell,  J.  H.     Die  Einheit  des   Seelenleben  aus  den  Principien  der 

aristotelischen    Philosophic    entwickelt.      Freiburg    i/B.,    1873, 

pp.  209. 
Schiebold,  F.  O.     De  imaginatione  disquisitio.    Lipsiae,  1882,  pp.  70. 
Schlottmann,    K.     Das   Vergangliche   und    Unvergangliche^in    der 

menschlichen  Seele  nach  Aristoteles.     Halle,  1873,  pp.  57. 


334  ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY 

Schneider,  L.     Die  Unsterblichkeitslehre  des  Aristoteles.     Passau, 

1867,  pp.  141. 
Siebeck,   H.      Die  Lehre  des   Aristoteles  von  dem  Leben   und   der 

Beseelungd.  Universums.  Zeitsch.  fiirPhilos.  undphilos.  Kritik. 

Bd.  60  (1872),  pp.  1-39. 

—  Geschichte  der  Psychologic      Theil  I.   Abth.  i.,  ii.     Die  Psycho- 

logic bis  Thomas  von  Aquino.     Gotha,  1880,  1884,  pp.  284,  531. 

—  Untersuchungen  zur  Philos.  der  Griechen.      Zweite  Aufl.   Frei- 

burg i/B.,  1888,  pp.279. 

—  Aristoteles.     Stuttgart,  1899,  pp.  142. 

Simplicii  in  libros  Aristotelis  de  anima   cornmentaria  ed.  Hayduck. 

Berolini,  1882. 
Sommerfeld.     Die  Psychologie  von  Aristoteles  und  Beneke.     Gross- 

Glogau,  1879,  pp.  12. 
Sophoniae  in  libros  Aristotelis  de  anima  paraphrasis  ed.  Hayduck. 

Berolini,  1883. 
Sperling,  K.     Aristoteles  Ansicht  von  der  psychologischen  Bedeu- 

tung  der  Zeit.     Marburg,  1888,  pp.  73. 
Susemihl,  F.     Zu  Aristoteles  Psychologie.    Philologus,  Bd.  46  (1886), 

pp.  86. 
Teichmuller,  G.    Neue  Studien  zur  Geschichte  der  Begriffe.  Heft  III. 

Die  praktische  Verunft  bei  Aristoteles.     Gotha,  1879,  pp.  453. 
Themistii  in  libros   Aristotelis  de    anima  paraphrasis   ed.    Heinze. 

Berolini,  1S99. 
Voigt,   M.    W.     Uber   die  menschliche   Seele.     Ubersetzt  und  mit 

Aumerkungen  begleitet  von  M.  W.  Voigt.     Leipzig,  1803. 
Volkmann,  W.  F.     Die  Grundziige  der  aristotelischen  Psychologie. 

Aus  den  Quellen  dargestellt.     Prag,  1859. 
Waddington,  Ch.     De  la  Psychologie  d'Aristote.     Paris,  184S.  pp. 

384. 
Wallace,  E.     Aristotle's  Psychology.      In  Greek  and  English,  with 

introduction  and  notes  by  Edwin  Wallace.     Cambridge,   1882, 

pp.  cxxviii,  327. 
Walter,  J.     Die  Lehre  von  der  praktischen  Verunft  in  der  griech. 

Philos.     Jena,  1874,  pp.  573. 
Weisse,   C.   H.     Von  der  Seele  und  von  der  Welt.     Ubersetzt  und 

mit  Anmerkungen  begleitet  von  C.  H.  Weisse.     Leipzig,  1829. 
Wilson,   J.    Cook.      Conjectural   Emendations.     Journal   of  Philol. 

Vol.  xi.  (1882),  pp.  119-124. 
Wolff,   W.     Von  dem  Begriffe  des  Aristoteles  liber  die    Seele  und 

dessen  Anwendung  auf  die  heutige  Psychologie.  Bayreuth,  1S48, 

pp.  16. 
Zeller,  E.     Uber  die  Lehre  des  Aristoteles   von   der   Ewigkeit  des 

Geistes.     Abhandl.  der  Akad.  d.  Wiss.,  Bd.  xlix.,  pp.   1033  ff. 

Berlin,  1882. 
—  Aristotle  and  the  Earlier  Peripatetics,  translated  by  Costelloe  and 

Muirhead.     London,  1897,  2  vols. 
Ziaja,   J.     De  sensu.      Cap.    1    bis    4396 18.       Ubersetzt    und  mit 
Anmerkungen  versehen  von  J.  Ziaja.     Breslau,  1887,  pp.  15. 


INDEX. 


Abstraction,  125. 

Actuality,  43,  63  f. 

Affections,  nature  of,  29. 

After-image,  236. 

Air,  as  medium,  76  ff. 

Alcmaeon,  16. 

Anaxagoras,  on  respiration,  288  ; 

on  soul,  12-17. 
Anger,  definition  of,  8. 
Animals,    classification    of,    171  ; 

distinguished  from  plants,  272  ; 

longevity    of,    263,    266,    304; 

ovoviviparous,  307. 
Animate,  10. 
Animism,  49. 
Appetite,  133. 
Association  of  ideas,  205. 
Atomic  theory,  vid.  under  Demo- 

critus. 

Birth,  324. 

Blood,  circulation,  227 ;  effect  on 
dreams,  242 ;  movements  in, 
243. 

Body,  dissection  of,  303  ;  divisions 
of,  273  ;  elements  in,  60 ;  poten- 
tiality, 46  ;  relation  to  soul,  40- 
53. 

Brain,  organ  of  cooling,  80,  228  ; 
size  in  man,  176. 

Categories,  4. 

Cause,  meanings  of,  58,  220,  248. 


Chance,  250. 

Cognition,  35. 

Colour,  explanation  of,  71,  158, 
160;  number  of,  168;  primary 
colours,  87. 

Common  sense,  in  consciousness, 
99  ;  in  judgment,  103  ;  in  sense- 
perception,  97  ;  in  unification, 
192. 

Common  sensibles,  97  ff.,  232. 

Conception,  106. 

Conduct,    reason   and    desire    in, 

131. 
Consciousness,  in  sleep,  215-253. 
Continuity,  120,  181. 
Critias,  16. 

Death,  261. 

Deduction,  6. 

Definition,  6,  8,  23,  48. 

Deliberation,  136. 

Democritus,  atomic  theory,  32 ; 
dreams,  252  ;  theory  of  soul,  11, 
15,  21,  30,  32,  37 ;  primary  and 
secondary  qualities,  101 ;  respira- 
tion, 288-294;  touch,  169; 
vision,  153. 

Desire,  54,  123,  133,  137. 

Diaphanous,  71,  73,  158  f.,  171. 

Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  15,  288, 
291. 

Disjunction,  119. 

Divisibility,  39  ff.,  120. 


335 


336 


ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY 


Dreams,  atribilious,  254 ;  memory 
of,  246 ;  observation  of,  245  ; 
origin  of,  231,  251  ;  prophetic, 
248,  250. 


Echo,  76. 

Emotions,  S. 

Empedocles,  on  evolution,  315 
growth,  59 ;  harmony,  27 
knowledge,  35 ;  light,  72 
movement  of  blood,  300 ;  respira 
tion,  299  f.  ;  soul,  13,  27,  34 
taste,  164  ;  vision,  151  f. 

Entelechy,  42,  44. 

Environment,  317. 

Epiglottis,  310. 

Error,  119. 

Eye,  153-155. 

Faculties,  vid.  under  Soul;  classi- 
fication of,  54,  57,  58. 

Feelings,  physically  expressed 
ideas,  6-8. 

Flavour,  vid.  under  Taste. 
Democritus  on,  170 ;  haptic 
quality,  55 ;  primary  flavours, 
87  ;  theories  of,  164-167, 

Form,  42,  53,  220. 

Frogs,  artificial,  244. 

Good  and  bad,  124. 

Hard  flesh,  41. 

Harmony,  relation  to  soul,  26  ff. , 
102  ;  Xenocrates  on,  30. 

Hearing,  importance  of,  144,  148, 
149  ;  nature  of,  76  ff.  ;  organ  of, 
78. 

Heart,  centre  of  life,  275  ;  connec- 
tion with  lungs,  318  ;  first  organ 
to  develop,  277 ;  organ  of 
nutrition,  302 ;  organ  of  sensa- 
tion, 279 ;  palpitation,  326  ; 
structure  of,  229. 

Heat,  animal,  280,  303,  322  ;  con- 
trolled by  respiration,  295. 

Heraclitus,  15. 

Hippo,  15. 

Ideas,  association  of,  205. 


Illusion,  example  of,  240  ;  in 
dreams,  239. 

Imagination,  control  of,  106  ;  de- 
finition of,  107,  110  ;  distin- 
guished from  memory,  201  ;  in 
dreams,  234,  242,  245  ;  organ  of 
240  ;  productive  and  reproduc- 
tive, 56 ;  relation  to  thought, 
109,  123,  127,  198  ;  relation  to 
desire,  135  ;  residual  sensation, 
244. 

Immortality,  51,  58. 

Insects,  live  after  division,  274 ; 
respiration  of,  305. 

Ionian  physiologers,  17- 

Judgment,  function  of  common 
sense,  103  ;  function  of  thought ; 
128  ;  inhibition  of  in  sleep,  243. 

Knowledge,  actual  and  potential, 
122  ;  kinds  of,  1,  48  ;  two 
powers  of  knowing,  231. 

Leucippus,  11. 

Life,  centralisation  of,  276  ;  con- 
nection with  vital  heat,  280, 
322  ;  destruction  of,  258,  281, 
324  ;  duration  of,  256,  262,  267, 
304  ;  in  insects,  268  ;  meanings 
of,  49  ;  relation  to  respiration, 
293,  329 ;  seat  of,  271  ;  unity 
of,  275. 

Light,  cause  of  vision,  152,  185  ; 
diaphanous,  71;  motion,  184; 
nature  of,  157. 

Locomotion,  129. 

Longevity,  256,  265. 

Lungs,  coexist  with  gills,  308  ; 
function  of,  80,  30S  ;  organ  of 
refrigeration,  318  ;  organ  of 
respiration,  306  ;  spongy,  307  ; 
structure  of,  328. 


Magnitude,  relation  to  sensation, 
162,  181. 

Man,  most  intelligent  animal,  82. 

Matter,  42. 

Medicine,  connection  with  philo- 
sophy of  nature,  147,  330. 


INDEX 


337 


Medium,  condition  of  sense-per- 
ception, 73  ff.,  183  ;  for  percep- 
tion at  distance,  140 ;  of  sound, 
75  ;  of  touch,  89  ff. 

Memory,  definition  of,  195 ;  im- 
print of  seal-ring,  199  ;  in  youth 
and  old  age,  199  ;  processes  of, 
209  ;  object  of,  196  ;  relation  to 
imagination,  111,  201;  relation 
to  reason,  29  ;  relation  to  time, 
197,  210  ;  seat  of,  202 ;  why 
strengthened  by  exercise,  202. 

Method,  kinds  of,  3. 

Monad,  soul  a,  30. 

Motion,  Democritus  on,  21  ;  de- 
fined, 19,  37,  223  ;  in  conduct, 
133, 137  ;  in  sleep,  242  ;  Platonic 
theory  of,  19  ;  relation  to  light, 
72 ;  relation  to  sensation,  65, 
238  ;  relation  to  soul,  18,  23,  28, 
30,  37. 

Myths,  Pythagorean,  24. 

Nature,  purpose  in,  59,  221. 
Nominalism,  4. 
Number-theory,  32. 
Nutrition,   faculty  of,  57,  62  f., 

138  ;  organ  of,  273  ;  relation  to 

smell,  174  ;   seat  of,  271,  276  ; 

shared  by  plants,  50  ;  sweet  in, 

168. 

Old  age,  270,  324. 

Opinion,  not  possessed  by  lower 
animals,  136  ;  relation  to  imagi- 
nation, 111. 

Orphic  verses,  37. 

Palpitation,  326  f. 

Parva  Naturalia,  145. 

Perception,  limits  of,  193 ;  per- 
ceptibility and  magnitude,  182 ; 
unity  in,  192. 

Phantasy,  vid.  under  Imagination. 

Philaegides,  254. 

Philosophy  of  nature,  relation  of 
to  medicine,  147,  330. 

Plants,  differentiated  fromanimals, 
272  ;  duration  of  life  in,  267  ; 


heat  in,  284,  302 ;  soul  in,  41, 
50  ;  without  sensation,  94. 

Plato,  'circular  push,3  296;  Dis- 
courses on  Philosophy,  13  ;  facul- 
ties of  soul,  51 ;  on  motion,  14  ; 
nature  of  the  soul,  13,  21,  33  ; 
Timaeus,  51,  151 ;  on  vision, 
151. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  51,  122. 

Potentiality,  meaning  of,  4,  44, 
64-68,  87;  relation  to  know- 
ledge, 66,  IOC. 

Pre- Aristotelian  psychology,  11  ff., 
26  ff. 

Predication,  121. 

Principle,  meaning  of,  2. 

Proof,  demonstration,  23. 

Psychology,  pre- Aristotelian,  10 ff. 

Pulsation,  326. 

Pythagoreans,  myths,  24;  nature 
of  soul,  11,  17,  24,  26,  53; 
respiration,  298. 

Qualities,  primary  and  secondary, 
101. 


Realism,  4. 

Reason,  active,  47,  112-118; 
Anaxagoras  on,  12 ;  divine  nature 
of,  29  ;  epitactic,  130,  132  ;  in- 
destructible, 29;  practical,  124, 
125,  135;  relation  to  imagina- 
tion, 110 ;  separability  from 
body,  24 ;  thinks  abstractions, 
125 ;  thinks  external  world,  181 ; 
time  necessary  to,  197;  unify- 
ing principle,  120. 

Recollection,  definition  of,  195 ; 
deliberation  in,  211;  different 
from  memory,  204;  how  pro- 
duced, 206;  in  youth  and  old 
age,  212;  movement  from  within, 
29;  not  shared  by  lower  ani- 
mals, 211. 

Reflex-movement,  275. 

Refrigeration,  organs  of,  80;  pur- 
pose of,  284. 

Respiration,  in  aquatic  animals, 
289,  291,  311 ;  functions  of,  297 ; 
in  insects,  305;  organ  of,  301; 


338 


ARISTOTLE  S   PSYCHOLOGY 


in  old  age,  320;  Plato's  theory 
of,  296;  purpose  of,  286;  in 
whales,  311. 

Sapid,  defined,  85,  86. 

Sensation,  activity  of,  237;  com- 
mon sense,  70,  97,  99;  co- 
ordination in,  189;  definition 
of,  93,  112;  duration  of,  190; 
in  dreams,  233 ;  fusion,  187 ; 
medium,  182;  mean,  92;  move- 
ment from  without,  29 ;  organs 
of,  96 ;  necessary  to  animal 
life,  138 ;  persistence  of,  239 ; 
purpose  of,  147  ;  qualitative 
change,  236;  relation  to  heart, 
277;  relation  to  thought,  106; 
seat  of,  279;  simultaneity  in, 
186;  in  sleep,  241,  249.  Vid. 
under  the  particular  senses. 

Sense-object,  69,  102. 

Sense-perception,  64 ff.,  101. 

Sense-quality,  69,  181. 

Senses,  correlated  with  physical 
elements,  150;  five,  95  ff. ;  higher 
and  lower,  140,  148. 

Sensibility,  relation  to  magnitude, 
180,  193. 

Sensibles,  common,  97  ff.,  232. 

Sight,  vid.  under  Vision;  impor- 
tance of,  for  higher  life,  144, 
148. 

Sign,  definition  of,  248,  252. 

Simultaneity  of  sensations,  190ff. 

Sleep,  cause  of,  218,  224,  226  f., 
230;  consciousness  in,  215,  244; 
function  of,  216;  heaviness  in, 
225;  mantic  character  of,  247; 
movements  in,  223;  necessary 
to  animal  life,  216,  221 ;  organ 
of,  215,  222;  sensation  in,  241 ; 
tractate  on,  213  ff. 

Smell,  air  affected  by,  94;  classifi- 
cation of  smells,  83,  173 ;  ex- 
halation, 155 ;  inaccurate  in 
man,  82,  164;  in  air  and  water, 
171,  177;  medium  required  by, 
74,  84  ;  middle  position  of,  177; 
nature  of,  82  ff.  ;  relation  to 
flavour,  83, 164, 174;  relation  to 
respiration,  175;  'sapid  dry,' 
172;  theories  of,  173  ff. 


Soul,  Alcmaeon  on,  16;  Anaxa- 
goras  on,  16;  atomic  theory  of, 
11 ;  body  related  to,  6,  7,  9, 
29,  40,  53,  58,  146;  centralisa- 
tion of,  274;  Critias  on,  16; 
definition  of,  45-52,  55,  56; 
Democritus  on,  11,  15;  Dio- 
genes on,  15;  elements  related 
to,  33  f.,  37,  38;  Empedocles 
on,  13  ;  etymology  of  word,  17 ; 
faculties  of,  40,  51,  54,  57,  133 ; 
final  cause,  59  ;  fire,  60 ;  har- 
mony, 26  f. ;  Heraclitus  on,  15  ; 
Hippo  on,  16;  immortality  of, 
6,  7,  31,  47,  51  ;  knowledge,  41 ; 
Leucippus  on,  11 ;  life,  39,  49  ; 
motion,  10,  19 ff.,  30,  37;  num- 
ber-theory, 30,  32 ;  nutrition, 
50,  61  ff.,  271  ;  Plato  on,  13, 
51 ;  pre- Aristotelian  theories  of, 
10  ff.,  13,  33;  principle  in  plants, 
41;  reality,  126;  separability 
of,  6f.,  31,  47,  51;  substance, 
42;  Thales  on,  15;  unity  of,  40, 
51 ;  Xenocrates  on,  30. 

Sound,  of  insects,  305  ;  nature  of, 
75  ff. 

Stimuli,  excessive,  93,  102. 

Substance,  meanings  of,  42,  44, 
52. 

Taste,  accurate  in  man,  82 ;  nature 
of,  85  f . ;  primary  flavours,  87  ; 
touch  and,  139,  164. 

Temperature,  regulation  of,  80. 

Thales,  soul  kinetic,  15 ;  pan- 
psychism,  38. 

Theophrastus,  on  sound,  75. 

Theories  of  soul,  history  of,  11  ff. 

Thought,  vid.  under  Reason,  defi- 
nition of,  106 ;  dependent  on 
will,  67  ;  discursive,  29  :  identi- 
cal with  object,  125 ;  inde- 
pendence of  body,  6 ;  image 
necessary  to,  6,  197;  somatic, 
105, 

Time,  191. 

Touch,  accuracy  of,  in  man,  82  ; 
analogy  to  hearing,  79 ;  direct 
action  of,  142 ;  function  of, 
69;  fundamental  character  of, 
50,    52,   54-56,  139,    142,    143; 


INDEX 


339 


medium  of,  85,  89-91 ;  nature 
of,  88  ff.,  169;  organ  of,  89; 
taste  and,  55. 


Universals,  nature  of,  4 ;  in  the 
mind,  67. 


Vision,  vid.  under  Sight ;  con- 
nected with  fire,  150;  Demo- 
critus  on,  153  ;  effect  on  object, 
237  ;  Empedocles  on,  152 ;  eye 
as  organ  of,  155  ;  medium  of, 
141  ;  nature  of,  71  ;  Plato  on, 
151;  theories  of,  150  ff. 


Voice,  significant  sound,  79-81. 

Waking,  definition  of,  214. 
Whales,  spout-organ  in,  312. 
Will,    kinetic    aspect   of    reason, 

129-131. 
Windpipe,  309. 
Words,  symbols,  149. 

Xenocrates,  30-33. 

Youth,  and  old  age,  270. 


GLASGOW  :    PRINTED    AT   THE    UNIVERSITY    PR&SS   BY    ROBERT   MACLEHOSE   AND   CO. 


BOSTON   UNIVERSITY 


1    l?n    D1D3S    Ab30 


DO  NOT  REMOVE 


CHARGE  SLIP  FROM  THIS  POCKET 

IF  SLIP  IS  LOST  PLEASE  RETURN  BOOK 

DIRECTLY  TO  A  CIRCULATION  STAFF  MEMBER 


BOSTON  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 

771    Commonwealth   Ave. 
Boston,  Mass.   02215