Full text of "The works of Aristotle"

JOHN M. KELLY LIBRARY

DONATED IN MEMORY OF

DR. GEORGE HEIMAN

University of
St. Michael s College, Toronto

THE

WORKS OF ARISTOTLE

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH
UNDER THE EDITORSHIP

W. D. ROSS, M.A., HON. LL.D. (EDIN.)

PROVOST OK ORIEL COLLEGE

HONORARY FELLOW OF MERTON COLLEGE

FELLOW OF THE BRITISH ACADEMY

VOLUME III

METEOROLOGICA
BY E. W. WEBSTER

DE MUNDO
BY E. S. FORSTER

DE ANIMA
BY J. A. SMITH

PARVA NATURALIA
BY J. I. BEARE AND G. R. T. ROSS

DE SPIRITU
BY J. F. DOBSON

OXFORD
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

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PREFACE TO VOLUME III

IN this volume the last part of the translation to be published
takes its place immediately before the first part to be
published, the Parva Naturalia, which appeared in 1908.
I must ask the indulgence of readers for the long interval
that has elapsed between the two. The Great War, the
death of some of the contributors before their translations
were completed, the necessity for a considerable interchange
of views between translators and editor, these have been
among the causes of delay. I hope that by delay something
has been gained as well as something lost ; I am conscious
of realizing much more fully now than I did in 1908 the
nature of the problem of translating Aristotle, and I hope
that the later contributors have learned something from the
work of their predecessors.

In the series as a whole, indexes have been placed some
times after single works, sometimes after groups of works.
It may help readers in the use of these if they are told exactly
where to look for them. Indexes will be found as follows :

In vols. IV, VI, VII, VIII at the end.

In vol. I after Analytica Posterior a ; after De Sophisticis
Elenchis.

In vol. II after Physica\ after Zte Caelo\ after De Genera-
tione et Corntptione.

In vol. Ill after Metcorologica; after De Anima; after
Parva Naturalia ; after De Mundo ; after De Spiritu.

In vol. V after De Partibus Animalium ; after De Incessu
Animalium \ after De Generations Animalium.

In vol. IX after Ethica Nicomachea ; after Magna
M or alia ; after De Virtutibus et Vitiis.

In vol. X after Politica ; after Oeconomica ; after Athenien-
sium Respnblica.

In vol. XI after Rhetorica\ ztterR/ietorica acl Alexandrum ;
after Poetica.

I have to thank Mr. George Brown, Lecturer in Logic in
the University of Glasgow, for kindly reading the proof-
sheets of the De Anima, as he did those of the Physics. And

vi PREFACE TO VOLUME III

in taking leave of this work of many years I must thank
the Master and Fellows of Balliol, the Trustees of the Jowett
Copyright Fund, and the Delegates of the Press for their
financial support of the translation ; my former co-editor,
Prof. J. A. Smith, for the large part he played in the early
stages of the work and for the advice which has always been
at my disposal since ; and the officials and staff of the Press
for their interest and care in the production of the work.

21 February, 1931.

PREFACE TO THE PARVA
NATURALIA*

IT was the desire of the late Master of Balliol, Dr. Benjamin
Jovvett, as formulated in his will, that the proceeds from the
sale of his works, the copyright in which he bequeathed to
Balliol College, should be used to promote the study of
Greek Literature, especially by the publication of new
translations and editions of Greek authors. In a codicil to
his will he expressed the hope that the translation of
Aristotle s works begun by his own translation of the Politics
should be proceeded with as speedily as possible. The
College resolved that the funds thus accruing to them should,
in memory of his services to the College and to Greek letters,
be applied to the subvention of a series of translations of the
works of Aristotle. Through the co-operation, financial and
other, of the Delegates of the University Press it has now
become possible to begin the realization of this design. By
agreement between the College and Delegates of the Press
the present editors were appointed to superintend the
carrying out of the scheme. The series, of which the first
instalment is now brought before the public, is published at
the joint expense and risk of the College and the Delegates
of the Press.

The editors have secured the co-operation of various
scholars in the task of translation. The translations make
no claim to finality, but aim at being such as a scholar
might construct in preparation for a critical edition and
commentary. The translation will not presuppose any
critical reconstitution of the text. Wherever new readings
are proposed the fact will be indicated, but notes justificatory
of conjectural emendations or defensive of novel interpreta
tions will, where admitted, be reduced to the smallest
compass. The editors, while retaining a general right of
revision and annotation, will leave the responsibility for

1 The Parva Naturalia (1908) was the first part of the series to be
published.

viii PREFACE TO THE PARVA NATURALIA

each translation to its author, whose name will in all cases
be given.

Translators have been found for the Organon, Physics,
De Caelo, De Anima, His tor ia Animalium, De Animalium
Generatione, De Insecabiltbus Lineis, Metaphysics, Eudemian
Ethics, Rhetoric, and Poetics, and it is hoped that the series
may in course of time include translations of all the extant
works of Aristotle. The editors would be glad to hear of
scholars who are willing to undertake the translation of such
treatises as have not already been provided for, and invite
communications to this end.

The editors desire to acknowledge their obligation to
Mr. Charles Cannan for valuable aid in the revision of the
present volume, and to Mr. G. R. T. Ross for the preparation
of the Index.

J. A. S.
W. D. R.

December, 1907.

METEOROLOGICA

E. W. WEBSTER

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
1923

Oxford University Press

London Edinburgh Glasgow Copenhagen

New Tork Toronto Melbourne Cape Town

Bombay Calcutta Madras Shanghai
Humphrey Milford Publisher to the UNIVERSITY

Printed in England

PREFACE

THE translation of the Meteorologica which follows is
the work of a scholar whose death was one of the severest
losses which the University of Oxford suffered through
the Great War. Erwin Wentworth Webster came up to
Wadham as a Scholar in 1898. Besides taking First Classes
of unusual brilliance in Classical Moderations and in Literae
Humaniores, he won the Taylorian Scholarship for German
and the John Locke Scholarship for Mental Philosophy.
Shortly after taking his degree he was elected to a Fellow
ship of his own College, and undertook tutorial work in
philosophy, to which he devoted himself with immense
energy and great success. He was (in addition to his
general philosophical interests) a keen student of Aristotle,
and one of the most faithful members of the Aristotelian
Society which met week after week under the presidency
first of Professor Bywater and then of Professor J. A. Smith,
and at which many of us younger men learned from these
masters of the art how to tackle the interpretation of the
Greek philosophers. He took up the Meteorologica fairly
early as a special study. His notes, apart from the trans
lation, are unfortunately not in a suitable form for publica
tion, but show how wide and how deep was his study of all
that bore on the subject, and how valuable a contribution
he would have made, if he had been spared, to our know
ledge of it. But things were otherwise ordained. On the
outbreak of war he offered himself for service in the Royal
Flying Corps. An accident during his training compelled
him to give up this prospect ; and he thereupon applied for
and received a commission in the I3th King s Royal Rifle
Corps, in which he later became a Captain. He went to

646-21 A 2

iv PREFACE

France in July, 1915, and saw much hard service there.
He was more than once practically ordered home to
hospital, but insisted on remaining with his battalion. He
was killed at Monchy-le-Preux, near Arras, on the ninth of
April, 1917, while leading his company in an attack.

All who knew Webster will remember the modesty
which was one of the leading features of a most attractive
personality. Even if he had lived to give the finishing
touches to his translation, he would have been the first to
depreciate its merits, and I cannot hope that, lacking as it
does his final correction, it will be found free from error.
But I think that the errors will not be found to be very
serious ones/and it is a satisfaction, though a melancholy
one, to give to the world this slight memorial of one who
if he had lived would undoubtedly have made a considerable
mark both as a teacher and as a student.

The translation has been based on Bekker s quarto text,
but in editing it I have made constant use of the valuable
new edition of the Meteor ologica by my former pupil
Mr. F. H. Fobes, which gives with admirable completeness
and precision the whole evidence for the text, and in very
many respects improves on all previous editions.

CONTENTS

BOOK I

CHAP.

1. Summary of subject-matter of meteorology.

2. The material and the efficient cause of the phenomena to be

studied.

3. The position of air and fire relatively to the celestial sphere. Why

clouds and water do not form in ether.

4. The cause of shooting-stars and the like.

5. The cause of the appearance of * chasms , c., in the sky.

6. Refutation of earlier theories of comets.

7. The cause of comets.

8. The milky way.

9. The causes of rain, and the difference between cloud and mist.

10. The causes of dew and hoar-frost.

11. The causes and concomitants of snow.

12. Hail where and when it is produced.

13. Winds, rivers, and springs.

14. Why the same parts of the earth are not always watered by

rivers, or always dry. Floods.

BOOK II

1. Three theories of the origin of the sea. It cannot have springs.

Why it flows as it does.

2. Its place. It is the end rather than the beginning of water. Why

it is not increased by the influx of rivers.

3. Why is it salt? Is it eternal? The cause of different tastes and

colours in water.

4. The causes of winds.

5. Why winds blow at some times and not at others. From where,

and when, each wind blows.

6. The direction of the winds ; which are contrary ; and which can

blow together. Their number, concomitants, and natures.

7. Three theories of earthquakes.

8. The causes of earthquakes. Indications that they are due to

exhalation.

9. Early theories of thunder and lightning.

vi CONTENTS

BOOK III

CHAP.

1. The causes of, and difference between, ecnephias, typhon, and

prester. The kinds of thunderbolt.

2. The causes and concomitants of halos.

3. Why halos are circular, and what they indicate.

4. The rainbow how it is produced by reflection, and the causes of

its properties (e.g. its colours). How it differs from the halo.

5. Some properties of the rainbow.

6. The causes of rods and mock suns.

BOOK IV

1. Hot and cold are active, dry and moist passive principles. True

or natural generation is due to these. The contrary of true
generation is putrefaction. Putrefaction further considered.

2. Concoction and inconcoction.

3. Three kinds of concoction ripening, boiling, broiling; and their

contraries.

4. Dry and moist, and the properties consequent on them in com

posite bodies hard and soft.

5. Every well-defined body must be hard or soft, and solid. Solidifica

tion and its causes.

6. Things that can be solidified are made either of water, or of earth

and water. Various modes of solidification and solution.

7. Things are thickened by fire or by cold according as they have

more water or earth in them.

8 The properties of composite bodies nineteen positive and nine
teen negative. What can and what cannot be solidified ; what
can and what cannot be melted.

9. The remaining seventeen properties.

10. Homoeomerous bodies.

11. Which mixtures are warm and which are cold.

12. Homoeomerous bodies are [composed of the elements. End and

function more evident in non-homoeomerous bodies than in the
homoeomerous bodies which compose them, and in these than
in the elements.

METEOROLOGICA 338

BOOK I

I WE have already discussed the first causes of nature, 20
and all natural l motion, 2 also the stars ordered in the
motion of the heavens, 3 and the physical elements
enumerating and specifying them and showing how they
change into one another and becoming and perishing in
general. 4 There remains for consideration a part of this
inquiry which all our predecessors called meteorology.
It is concerned with events that are natural, though their 338
order is less perfect than that of the first of the elements 21
of bodies. They take place in the region nearest to the
motion of the stars. 5 Such are the milky way, and comets,
and the movements of meteors. 6 It studies also all the affec
tions we may call common to air and water, 7 and the kinds
and parts of the earth and the affections of its parts. 8 These
throw light on the causes of winds and earthquakes and all 339
the consequences the motions of these kinds and parts involve.
Of these things some puzzle us, while others admit of explana
tion in some degree. Further, the inquiry is concerned with
the falling of thunderbolts and with whirl winds and fire-winds,
and further, the recurrent affections produced in these same 5
bodies by concretion 10 . When the inquiry into these matters
is concluded let us consider n what account we can give, in
accordance with the method we have followed, of animals
and plants, both generally and in detail. When that has
been done we may say that the whole of our original
undertaking will have been carried out.

i.e. neither purposive nor constrained.
Physics. 3 De Caelo, esp. i and ii.

De Gen. et Corr., and perhaps De Cae/o, iii, iv.
i. e. just below the sphere of the moon.
Bk. i. 4-8. 7 Bks. i. 9-12, iii. 2-6. 378" 14.

Bks. i. 13-ii. 3. Bk. ii. 4-8. 10 Bks. ii. 9, iii. I.

11 De An., Parv. Nat., H.A., P. A., J.A., G.A.

339 a METEOROLOGICA

10 After this introduction let us begin by discussing our
immediate subject.

We have already laid down that there is one physical 2
element which makes up l the system of the bodies that move
in a circle, and besides this four bodies owing their existence
to the four principles, 2 the motion of these latter bodies being

15 of two kinds : either from the centre or to the centre.
These four bodies are fire, air, water, earth. Fire occupies
the highest place among them all, earth the lowest, and two
elements correspond to these in their relation to one
another, air being nearest to fire, water to earth. The"

20 whole world surrounding the earth, 4 then, the affections of
which are our subject, is made up of these bodies. This
world necessarily has a certain continuity with the upper
motions : consequently all its power and order is derived
from them. (For the originating principle of all motion is

25 the first cause. Besides, that element is eternal and its
motion has no limit in space, but is always complete ;
whereas all these other bodies have separate regions which
limit one another.) 5 So we must treat fire and earth and
the elements like them as the material causes of the events

30 in this world 4 (meaning by material what is subject and is
affected), but must assign causality in the sense of the
originating principle of motion to the influence of the
eternally moving bodies.

Let us first recall G our original principles and the 3

1 Read e fa in 1. 12 with Vicomercato.

2 Hot, cold, dry, moist.

3 Read commas for colons in 11. 15, 17, 18, and a colon for the full
stop in 1. 19, where the apodosis begins.

4 The sublunary world.

5 30ev . . . aXX^Xcoi/ (11. 23-27) is parenthetical.

c The argument of this confused chapter seems to be as follows :
339 a 33- b 2 introductory; 339 b 2-i6 the main question is stated to be
the nature of air and its relations to the other elements : 339 b 16-
340 a 1 8 a preliminary question about the nature of the element in the
celestial sphere is discussed. Two views are dismissed, (a) that the
stars and the interval between them are of fire, while the space from
the earth to the moon is air, 339 b 30-340* 3, (b) that the whole world
from the earth to the stars, including the intervals between them, is of
air, 340*3-18. 340*19-24 the original question is restated; it now
appears in two parts, (a) relation of fire and air to the celestial element,

BOOK I. 3 339 a

distinctions already drawn and then explain the milky
way and comets and the other phenomena akin to these. 35

Fire, 1 air, water, earth, we assert, originate from one
another, and each of them exists potentially in each, as all 339 b
things do that can be resolved into a common and ultimate
substrate. 2

The first difficulty is raised by what is called the air.
What are we to take its nature to be in the world sur
rounding the earth ? And what is its position relatively to 5
the other physical elements. (For there is no question as
to the relation of the bulk of the earth to the size of the
bodies which exist around it, since astronomical demonstra
tions have by this time proved to us that it is actually far
smaller than some individual stars. As for the water, it is
not observed to exist collectively and separately, nor can 10
it do so apart from that volume of it which has its seat about
the earth : the sea, that is, and rivers, which we can sec,
and any subterranean water that may be hidden from our
observation.) The question is really about that which lies
between the earth and the nearest stars. Are we to
consider it to be one kind of body or more than one? 15
And if more than one, how many are there and what are
the bounds of their regions ?

We have already described and characterized the first
element, and explained that the whole world of the upper
motions is full of that body. 15

This is an opinion we are not alone in holding : it 20
appears to be an old assumption and one which men have
held in the past, for the word ether has long been used to
denote that element. Anaxagoras, 4 it is true, seems to me
to think that the word means the same as fire. For

(b) question about the origination of heat by the celestial bodies (now
recognized as not themselves hot) on earth. This change in the formu
lation of the question is clue to the answers given to the preliminary
question. 34o :i 24~ b 3 a preliminary discussion about the nature of air
and difficulties raised about the formation of clouds in it: 34o b 4~
341 a 12 question (a) is answered and the difficulty about clouds solved :
341 a 12-end question (b} solved.

1 Read &} with JFHN and Thurot in 1. 36.

2 Cp. De Gen. et Corr. ii. 4, DC Caelo, iii. 6 and 7.

3 De Cach, i. 3.

4 Ibid. i. 2o b 2.

339 b METEOROLOGICA

he thought that the upper regions were full of fire, and that
men l referred to those regions when they spoke of
25 ether. In the latter point he was right, for men seem to
have assumed that a body that was eternally in motion 2
was also divine 3 in nature ; and, as such a body was different
from any of the terrestrial elements, they determined to
call it ether .

For the same opinions appear in cycles among men not
once nor twice, but infinitely often.

-o Now there are some who maintain that not only the
bodies in motion but that which contains them is pure fire,
and the interval between the earth and the stars air : but
if they had considered what is now satisfactorily established
by mathematics, they might have given up this puerile
opinion. For it is altogether childish to suppose that the
35 moving bodies are all of them of a small size, because they
seem so to us, looking at them from the earth.

This is a matter which we have already discussed in our
treatment of the upper region, 4 but we may return to the
point now.

34O a If the intervals were full of fire and the bodies consisted
of fire every one of the other elements would long ago have
vanished.

However, they cannot simply be said to be full of air
either ; for even if there were two elements to fill the space
between the earth and the heavens, 5 the air would far exceed
the quantity required to maintain its proper proportion to
5 the other elements. For the bulk of the earth (which
includes the whole volume of water) is infinitesimal in
comparison with the whole world that surrounds it. Now
we find that the excess in volume is not proportionately
10 great where water dissolves into air or air into fire.
Whereas the proportion between any given small quantity
of water and the air that is generated from it ought to hold
good between the total amount of air and the total amount of
water. Nor does it make any difference if any one denies 7

1 Read KaKfivovs (Thurot) in 1. 24. 2 6tov.

4 De Caelo, ii. 298* 15 (the smallness of the earth).

5 The outermost heaven. 8 Kmpedocles.
7 Read ^a\ with EJF in 1. 13.

BOOK I. 3 340

that the elements originate from one another, but asserts
that they are equal in power. For on this view it is 15
certain amounts of each that are equal in power, just as
would be the case if they actually originated from one
another?-

So it is clear that neither air nor fire alone 2 fills the
intermediate space. 3

It remains to explain, after a preliminary discussion of
difficulties, the relation of the two elements air and fire to
the position of the first element, and the reason why the 20
stars in the upper region impart heat 4 to the earth and its
neighbourhood. Let us first treat of the air, as we pro
posed, 5 and then go on to these questions.

Since c water is generated from air, and air from water,
why are clouds not formed in the upper air ? They ought 25
to form there the more, the further from the earth and the
colder that region is. For it is neither appreciably near to
the heat of the stars, nor to the rays reflected from the
earth. It is these that dissolve any formation by their 30
heat and so prevent clouds from forming near the earth. 7
For clouds gather at the point where the reflected rays

1 De Gen. et Corr. ii. 6. A. there argues that if the elements are
comparable a common substrate and transmutation are implied. But
Empedocles says the elements are equal while denying their trans
mutation. If he means (a) equal in quantity , there is something
common to them in virtue of which they are measured, and transmuta
tion follows. If he means (b) equal in power , e. g. I c.c. water has as
much refrigerating power as 10 c.c. air, the water and the air must
have something in common in virtue of which they refrigerate, and
transmutation follows again. A. might prove on the same principle
that since gold and lead can both be weighed they must be trans-
mutable.

2 Nor both together.

3 Between the earth and the outermost heaven. The conclusion,
which is not expressed, is : therefore there must be a fifth element in
the celestial region.

4 As soon as the stars and the upper region are not considered to be
of fire, this requires explanation.

5 This is misleading if it refers back to 339 b 3, since it is not so much
the aporetic discussion about the clouds in the air 34o a 24~ b 3, as the
two discussions in 34Q b 4-34i a 36, especially the first 34o b 3~34i a 12,
which answer the original question.

6 This passage 340* 24- b 3 is purely aporetic. No account is taken
of results already arrived at.

7 For A. s conception of the stratification of the air, cp. (Albert,
Meteor. Theorien d. gr. Altertums, 476 sqq. (doubtful on some details),
Meteor. 34O b 29, 361* 22, 373*23 and note.

340 a METEOROLOGICA

disperse in the infinity of space and are lost. To explain
this we must suppose either that it is not all air from which
water is generated, or, if it is produced from all air alike,
that what immediately surrounds the earth is not mere air,
but a sort of vapour, and that its vaporous nature is the

35 reason why it condenses back to water again. But if the
whole of that vast region is vapour, the amount of air and of
water will be disproportionately great. For the spaces left by
34 the heavenly bodies must be filled by some element. This
cannot be fire, for then all the rest would have been dried
up. Consequently, what fills it must be air and the water that
surrounds the whole earth vapour being water dissolved.

After this exposition of the difficulties involved, let us

5 go on to lay down the truth, with a view at once to what

follows and to what has already been said. The upper

region as far as the moon T we affirm to consist of a body

distinct both from fire and from air, but varying in degree

10 of purity and in kind, especially towards its limit on the
side of the air, and of the world surrounding 2 the earth.
Now the circular motion of the first element and of the bodies
it contains dissolves, and inflames by its motion, whatever
part of the lower world is nearest to it, and so generates
heat. From another point of view we may look at the

15 motion as follows. The body that lies below the circular
motion of the heavens is, in a sort, matter, and is potentially
hot, cold, dry, moist, and possessed of whatever other quali
ties are derived from these/ But it actually acquires or
retains one of these in virtue of motion or rest, the cause
and principle of which has already been explained. 4 So at

20 the centre and round it we get earth and water, the heaviest
and coldest elements, by themselves ; round them and
contiguous 5 with them, air and what we commonly call
fire. It is not really fire, for fire is an excess of heat and
a sort of ebullition ; 6 but in reality, of what we call air,

25 the part surrounding the earth is moist and warm, because
it contains both vapour and a dry exhalation from the

1 i.e. the region between the air properly so called and the moon.

2 i.e. immediately surrounding.

3 De Gen. et Corr. ii. 2. 4 Ibid. ii. 10.
5 Omitting T in 1. 21, with JFA1. 6 Cp. 341 21.

BOOK I. 3 340

earth. But the next part, above that, is warm and dry.
For vapour is naturally moist and cold, 1 but the exhalation
warm and dry ; and vapour is potentially like water, the
exhalation potentially like fire. So we must take the
reason why clouds are not formed in the upper region to 3
be this : that it is filled not with mere air but rather with
a sort of fire.

However, it may well be that the formation of clouds in
that upper region is also prevented by the circular motion.
For the air round the earth is necessarily all of it in motion,
except that which is cut off inside the circumference which 35
makes the earth a complete sphere. 2 In the case of winds
it is actually observable that they originate in marshy
districts of the earth ; and they do not seem to blow above
the level of the highest mountains. It is the revolution of
the heaven which carries the air with it and causes its
circular motion, fire being continuous with the upper
element and air with fire. Thus its motion is a second
reason why that air is not condensed into water.

But whenever a particle of air grows heavy/ the warmth 5
in it is squeezed out into the upper region and it sinks, and
other particles in turn are carried up together with the fiery
exhalation. Thus the one region is always full of air and
the other of fire, and each of them is perpetually in a state
of change.

So much to explain why clouds are not formed and why i
the air is not condensed into water, 4 and what account must
be given of the space between the stars and the earth, and
what is the body that fills it.

As for the heat derived from the sun, the right place for
a special and scientific account of it is in the treatise about
sense, 5 since heat is an affection of sense, but we may now 15
explain how it can be produced by the heavenly bodies
which are not themselves hot.

1 Read ^vxpov in 1. 27 with E l and cod. Par. suppl. 314, cp. 360*
22 sq.

2 i.e. up to the height of the highest mountains. But cp. with the
whole passage 36i a 22, 373*23, 34o !l 25 above.

3 i.e. becomes drfus. * In the upper air.
5 No such account is to be found in the De Sens it.

34i a METEOROLOGICA

We see that motion is able to dissolve and inflame the
air; indeed, moving bodies are often actually found to melt.
Now the sun s motion alone is sufficient to account for the

20 origin of terrestrial warmth and heat. For a motion that is
to have this effect must be rapid and near, and that of the
stars is rapid but distant, while that of the moon is near but
slow, whereas the sun s motion combines both conditions in
a sufficient degree. That most heat should be generated

25 where the sun is present l is easy to understand if we con
sider the analogy of terrestrial phenomena, for here, too, it
is the air that is nearest to a thing in rapid motion which
is heated most. This is just what we should expect, as it
is the nearest air that is most dissolved by the motion of
a solid body.

30 This then is one reason why heat reaches our world.
Another is that the fire surrounding the air is often scattered
by the motion of the heavens and driven downwards in spite
of itself.

Shooting-stars further suffice to prove that the celestial
sphere is not hot or fiery : for they do not occur in that
upper region but below : yet the more and the faster 2

35 a thing moves, the more apt it is to take fire. 3 Besides, the
sun, which most of all the stars is considered to be hot, is
really white and not fiery in colour.

34l b Having determined these principles let us explain the 4
cause of the appearance in the sky of burning flames and of
shooting-stars, and of torches , and * goats , as some
people call them. All these phenomena are one and the
5 same thing, and are due to the same cause, the difference
between them being one of degree.

The explanation of these and many other phenomena is
this. When the sun warms the earth the evaporation which
takes place is necessarily of two kinds, not of one only as
some think. 4 One kind is rather of the nature of vapour,

1 i. e. by day.

Read TO. paXXov KivovjMfva Knl darrov fKnvpovrai GIITTOV in 1. 34 with
JF and the lemma in Philoponus.

3 And the outer sphere moves fastest.

4 Perhaps Plato, Timaeus, 56 D.

BOOK I. 4 34i b

the other of the nature of a windy exhalation. That which
rises from the moisture contained in the earth and on its
surface is vapour, while that rising from the earth itself, ic
which is dry, is like smoke. Of these the windy exhalation,
being warm, rises above the moister vapour, which is heavy
and sinks below the other. Hence the world surrounding
the earth is ordered as follows. First below the circular
motion comes the warm and dry element, which we call fire,
for there is no word fully adequate to every state of the fumid 15
evaporation : but we must use this terminology since this
element is the most inflammable of all bodies. Below this
comes air. We must think of what we just called fire as
being spread round the terrestrial sphere on the outside like ^o
a kind of fuel, so that a little motion often makes it burst
into flame just as smoke does : for flame is the ebullition of
a dry exhalation. 1 So whenever the circular motion stirs
this stuff up in any way, it catches fire at the point at which
it is most inflammable. The result differs according to the
disposition and quantity of the combustible material. If 25
this is broad and long, we often see a flame burning as
in a field of stubble : if it burns lengthwise only, we sec
what are called * torches and goats and shooting-stars.
Now when the inflammable material is longer than it is
broad sometimes it seems to throw off sparks as it burns. 30
(This happens because matter catches fire at the sides in
small portions but continuously with the main body.) Then
it is called a goat . When this does not happen it is
a torch*. But if the whole length of the exhalation is
scattered in small parts and in many directions and in
breadth and depth alike, we get what are called shooting-
stars. 3 -

The cause of these shooting-stars is sometimes the motion
which ignites the exhalation. At other times the air is con- 342*
densed by cold and squeezes out and ejects 2 the hot element ;
making their motion look more like that of a thing thrown
than like a running fire. For the question might be raised

1 Cp. 340" 23.

2 Read cfcdXt/Scrai *ai eorpiWai with JFHN and the lemma in
Philoponus.

342 a METEOROLOGICA

whether the shooting of a star is the same thing as when
5 you put an exhalation below a lamp and it lights the lower
lamp from the flame above. For here too the flame passes
wonderfully quickly and looks like a thing thrown, and
not as if one thing after another caught fire. Or is a star
when it shoots a single l body that is thrown ? Apparently 2
both cases occur : sometimes it is like the flame from the
lamp and sometimes bodies are projected by being squeezed

10 out (like fruit stones from one s fingers) and so are seen to
fall into the sea and on the dry land, both by night and by
day when the sky is clear. They are thrown downwards
because the condensation which propels them inclines
downwards. Thunderbolts fall downwards for the same

15 reason: their origin is never combustion but ejection under
pressure, since naturally all heat tends upwards.

When the phenomenon is formed in the upper region 3 it
is due to the combustion of the exhalation. When it takes
place at a lower level it is due to the ejection of the exhala
tion by the condensing and cooling of the moister evapo-

20 ration : for this latter as it condenses and inclines downward
contracts, and thrusts out the hot element and causes it to
be thrown downwards. The motion is upwards or down
wards or sideways according to the way in which the
evaporation lies, and its disposition in respect of breadth
and depth. In most cases the direction is sideways because

25 two motions are involved, a compulsory motion downwards
and a natural motion upwards, and under these circum
stances an object always moves obliquely. Hence the
motion of shooting-stars is generally oblique.

So the material cause of all these phenomena is the
exhalation, the efficient cause sometimes the upper motion,

30 sometimes the contraction and condensation of the air.
Further, all these things happen below the moon. This is
shown by their apparent speed, which is equal to that of
things thrown by us ; for it is because they are close to us,

1 Read roO atr&lt;&gt;0 nvos in 1. 7 with JF 2 HN Ol. (lemma).

2 Om. dt in 1. 8 with all the MSS.

3 Omit paXXoi/ and read &gt; in 1. 17 with E and the lemma in
Olympiodorus. /ifiXXoi/ and the superlative nywrdro) are explanations

of ai O).

BOOK I. 4 342 a

that these latter seem far to exceed in speed the stars, the
sun, and the moon.

5 Sometimes on a fine night we see a variety of appearances 35
that form in the sky : * chasms for instance and trenches
and blood-red colours. These, too, have the same cause. 1
For we have seen that the upper air condenses into an
inflammable condition and that the combustion sometimes
takes on the appearance of a burning flame, sometimes that
of moving torches and stars. So it is not surprising that 5
this same air when condensing should assume a variety of
colours. For a weak light shining through a dense air, and
the air when it acts as a mirror, will cause all kinds of
colours to appear, but especially crimson and purple. For
these colours generally appear when fire-colour and white
are combined by superposition. Thus on a hot day, or
through a smoky medium, the stars when they rise and set I0
look crimson. The light will also create colours by reflection
when the mirror is such as to reflect colour only and not
shape. 2

These appearances do not persist long, because the con
densation of the air is transient.

Chasms get their appearance of depth from light break- l r&gt;
ing out of a dark blue or black mass of air. When the
process of condensation goes further in such a case we often
find torches ejected. When the chasm contracts it
presents the appearance of a trench V 5

In general, white in contrast with black creates a variety
of colours ; like flame, for instance, through a medium of
smoke. But by day the sun obscures them, and, with the jo
exception of crimson, the colours arc not seen at night
because they are dark. 4

1 As the phenomena described in c. 4. The obscurity of this chapter is
due to the attempt to assimilate these phenomena of cloud coloration
to the meteorites, c., of c. 4. Ar. seems entirely to neglect the most
obvious causes of these &lt;uo&gt;umi, e.g. the sun, and obscures the fact
that the phenomena of c. 4 are KaQ* VTTOITTIKTII , in the language of later
writers, while those of c. 5 are *ar e/K/wo-iv. Cf. (Gilbert, -Meteor.
Tlieorien d.g&gt; . Altcrtums, pp. 594 sqq.

2 Cp. 372* 29 sq.

3 Read in 1. 17 o-wibv 8e fiodwos tiv&lt;n TO) ^&lt;r/Lta doKfl after Thurot.

4 Read 6/zoxP" la " in 1. 20 with all the MSS.

645-21 J3

342 b METEOROLOGICA

These then must be taken to be the causes of shooting-
stars and the phenomena of combustion and also of the
other transient appearances of this kind.

25 Let us go on to explain the nature of comets and the milky &lt;
way , after a preliminary discussion of the views of others.

Anaxagoras l and Democritus 2 declare that comets are
a conjunction of the planets approaching one another and so
appearing to touch one another.

30 Some of the Italians called Pythagoreans 3 say that the
comet is one of the planets, but that it appears at great
intervals of time and only rises a little above the horizon.
This is the case with Mercury too; because it only rises
a little above the horizon it often fails to be seen and con-

35 sequently appears at great intervals of time.

A view like theirs was also expressed by Hippocrates of
343 a Chios and his pupil Aeschylus. 4 Only they say that the
tail does not belong to the comet itself, but is occasionally
assumed by it on its course in certain situations, when our
sight is reflected to the sun from the moisture attracted
by the comet. It appears at greater intervals than the
5 other stars because it is slowest to get clear of the sun
and has been left behind by the sun to the extent
of the whole of its circle before it reappears at the
same point. It gets clear of the sun both towards the
north and towards the south. In the space between the
tropics it does not draw water to itself because that region

10 is dried up by the sun on its course. When it moves
towards the south it has no lack of the necessary moisture,
but because the segment of its circle which is above the
horizon is small, and that below it many times as large, it
is impossible for the sun to be reflected to our sight, either

15 when it approaches the southern 5 tropic, or at the summer
solstice. Hence in these regions it does not develop a tail
at all. But when it is visible in the north it assumes a tail
because the arc above the horizon is large and that below it

1 Diels, Frag. d. Vorsokratiker, 46 A Si.

2 Ibid. 55 A 92. 3 Diels, 30. 5. 4 Ibid.

5 Read vorw for T/JOTTIKW in 1. 14 with E l and perhaps Al. (The
lemma in Philoponus has t/oriw

BOOK I. 6 343 a

small. For under these circumstances there is nothing to
prevent our vision from being reflected to the sun. 20

These views involve impossibilities, some of which are
common to all of them, while others are peculiar to some
only.

This is the case, first, with those who say that the comet
is one of the planets. For all the planets appear in the
circle of the zodiac, whereas many comets have been seen 35
outside that circle. Again more comets than one have
often appeared simultaneously. Besides, if their tail is due
to reflection, as Aeschylus and Hippocrates say, this planet
ought sometimes to be visible without a tail since, as they
say, it does not possess a tail in every place in which it 30
appears. But, as a matter of fact, no planet has been ob
served besides the five. And all of them are often visible
above the horizon together at the same time. Further,
comets are often found to appear, as well when all the
planets are visible as when some are not, but are obscured
by the neighbourhood of the sun. Moreover the statement 35
that a comet only appears in the north, with the sun at the
summer solstice, 1 is not true either. The great comet which 343 b
appeared at the time of the earthquake in Achaea 2 and the
tidal wave rose due west ; and many have been known
to appear in the south. Again in the archonship of
Euclees, son of Molon, at Athens 1 there appeared a comet 5
in the north in the month Gamelion, 1 the sun being about
the winter solstice. Yet they themselves admit that re
flection over so great a space is an impossibility.

An objection that tells equally against those who hold
this theory and those who say that comets are a coalescence
of the planets is, first, the fact that some of the fixed stars
too get a tail. For this we must not only accept the 10
authority of the Egyptians who assert it, but we have our
selves observed the fact. For a star in the thigh of the Dog
had a tail, though a faint one. If you fixed your sight on

1 Cp. b 9. This condition was not stated in a 10 sq. Thurot would in
troduce it there by emendation. Probably Aristotle is at fault and not
the text.

2 Cp. b 18, 344 b 34, 368 b 6. The date is 373-2 B. c.

3 427-6 B.C. 4 Jan.- Feb.

B 2

343 b METEOROLOGICA

it its light was dim, but if you just glanced at it, 1 it appeared

15 brighter. Besides, all the comets that have been seen in
our day have vanished without setting, gradually fading
away above the horizon ; and they have not left behind
them either one or more stars. For instance the great
comet we mentioned before 2 appeared to the west in
winter in frosty weather when the sky was clear, in the

20 archonship of Asteius. On the first day it set before the
sun and was then not seen. On the next day it was seen,
being ever so little behind the sun and immediately setting.
But its light extended over a third part of the sky like
a leap, so that people called it a path . This comet re-

25 ceded as far as Orion s belt and there dissolved. Democritus
however, insists upon the truth of his view and affirms that
certain stars have been seen when comets dissolve. But on
his theory this ought not to occur occasionally but always.
Besides, the Egyptians affirm that conjunctions of the
planets with one another, and with the fixed stars, take

30 place, and we have ourselves observed Jupiter coinciding 15
with one of the stars in the Twins and hiding it, and yet no
comet was formed. Further, we can also give a rational
proof of our point. It is true that some stars seem to be bigger
than others, yet each one by itself looks indivisible. Con-

35 sequently, just as, if they really had been indivisible, their

conjunction could not have created any greater magnitude, so

344 a now that they are not in fact indivisible but look as if

they were, their conjunction will not make them look any

bigger.

Enough has been said, without further argument, to show
that the causes brought forward to explain comets are false.

5 We consider a satisfactory explanation of phenomena in- 7
accessible to observation to have been given when our
account of them is free from impossibilities. The observa
tions before us 4 suggest the following account of the

1 The peripheral parts of the retina are more sensitive to illumination
than the central. Wundt, Phys.- Psych?, ii. 181, 502.

2 b i. s Omitting dis in 1. 31 with EJFHN Al Ph Ol.

4 vrroKfiTdi (1. 8) ... dia8f)op.ds (1. 15) is a parenthesis. The apodosis
of the main sentence is do-Dyp roOro yiyvtrw. (1. 20).

BOOK I. 7 344 a

phenomena we are now considering. We know that the
dry and warm exhalation is the outermost part of the 10
terrestrial world which falls below the circular motion. It,
and a great part of the air that is continuous with it below,
is carried round the earth by the motion of the circular
revolution. In the course of this motion it often ignites
wherever it may happen to be of the right consistency, and
this we maintain to be the cause of the shooting of 15
scattered stars . We may say, then, that a comet is
formed when the upper motion l introduces into a gathering
of this kind a fiery principle not of such excessive strength
as to burn up much of the material quickly, nor so weak as
soon to be extinguished, but stronger and capable of
burning up much material, and when exhalation of the 20
right consistency rises from below and meets it. The kind
of comet varies according to the shape which the exhalation
happens to take. If it is diffused equally on every side the
star is said to be fringed, if it stretches out in one direction
it is called bearded. We have seen that when a fiery
principle of this kind moves we seem to have a shooting- 25
star : similarly when it stands still we seem to have a star
standing still. We may compare these phenomena to
a heap or mass of chaff into which a torch is thrust, or
a spark thrown. That is what a shooting-star is like. The
fuel is so inflammable that the fire runs through it quickly
in a line. Now if this fire were to persist instead of running 30
through the fuel and perishing away, its course through the
fuel would stop at the point where the latter was densest,
and then the whole might begin to move. Such is a comet
like a shooting-star that contains its beginning and end in
itself.

When the matter begins to gather in the lower region in
dependently the comet appears by itself. But when the 35
exhalation is constituted - by one of the fixed stars or the
planets, owing to their motion, one of them becomes a comet.
The fringe is not close to the stars themselves. Just as 344 b

1 Omitting TW in 1. 16 with JHN, and Philoponus.

2 345 a 7, b 34-

344 METEOROLOGICA

haloes appear to follow the sun and the moon as they move, 1
5 and encircle them, when the air is dense enough for them to
form along under the sun s course, so too the fringe. It
stands in the relation of a halo to the stars, except that the
colour of the halo is due to reflection, whereas in the case of
comets the colour is something that appears actually on
them.

Now when this matter gathers in relation to a star the

10 comet necessarily appears to follow the same course as the
star. But when the comet is formed independently it falls
behind the motion of the universe, like the rest of the
terrestrial world. It is this fact, that a comet often forms
independently, 2 indeed oftener than round one of the
regular stars, that makes it impossible to maintain that

15 a comet is a sort of reflection, not indeed, as Hippocrates
and his school say. 3 to the sun, but to the very star it is
alleged to accompany in fact, a kind of halo in the pure
fuel of fire. 4

As for the halo we shall explain its cause later. 5

The fact that comets when frequent c foreshadow wind

20 and drought must be taken as an indication of their fiery
constitution. For their origin is plainly due to the plentiful
supply of that secretion. Hence the air is necessarily drier
and the moist evaporation is so dissolved and dissipated by
the quantity of the hot exhalation as not readily to con-

25 dense into water. But this phenomenon too shall be
explained more clearly later when the time comes to
speak of the winds. So when there are many comets
and they are dense, it is as we say, and the years
are clearly dry and windy. When they are fewer and
fainter this effect does not appear in the same degree,

30 though as a rule the wind is found to be excessive either in
duration or strength. For instance when the stone at
Aegospotami fell out of the air it had been carried up by

1 Omit TWV &lt;"(TTpav in 1.4 with EJHN and the lemmata in Philoponus
and Olympiodorus.

2 Comma after 7io\AKt$- in 1. 16, with Philoponus.

3 342 b 36. 4 Comma after KaQapu in 1. 14.
6 iii. 2.

6 Omit 01 in 1. 20 with the MSS., Alexander, and Philoponus.

BOOK I. 7 344 b

a wind and fell down in the daytime then too a comet
happened to have appeared in the west. And at the time of
the great comet l the winter was dry and north winds pre- 35
vailed, and the wave was due to an opposition of winds.
For in the gulf a north wind blew and outside it a violent 345 a
south wind. Again in the archonship of Nicomachus 2
a comet appeared for a few days about the- equinoctial
circle (this one had not risen in the west), and simultaneously
with it there happened the storm at Corinth. 5

That there are few comets and that they appear rarely
and outside the tropic circles 3 more than within them is
due to the motion of the sun and the stars. 4 For this
motion does not only cause the hot principle to be secreted
but also dissolves it when it is gathering. But the chief
reason is that most of this stuff collects in the region of the
milky way. I0

8 Let us now explain the origin, cause, and nature of the
milky way. And here too let us begin by discussing the
statements of others on the subject.

(1) Of the so-called Pythagoreans 5 some say that this is the
path of one of the stars that fell from heaven at the time of 15
Phaethon s downfall. Others say that the sun used once to
move in this circle and that this region was scorched or met
with some other affection of this kind, because of the sun
and its motion.

But it is absurd not to see that if this were the reason the
circle of the Zodiac ought to be affected in the same way,
and indeed more so than that of the milky way, since not 20
the sun only but all the planets move in it. We can see
the whole of this circle (half of it being visible at any time
of the night), but it shows no signs of any such affection G
except where a part of it touches the circle of the milky
way.

(2) Anaxagoras, Democritus, and their schools say that 25

1 Cp. 343 bi.

2 341-40 B.C. Omit A6f)VT)aiv in 1. 2 with KJFHN.

3 346 a 14- 4 344 a 35-
6 Diels, 45 B. 37 ; 29. 10.

6 Read Tr^ovB^ in 1. 23 with EFH Al.

345 a METEOROLOGICA

the milky way is the light of certain stars. For, they say,
when the sun passes below the earth some of the stars are
hidden from it. Now the light of those on which the sun
shines is invisible, being obscured by the rays of the sun.

30 But the milky way is the peculiar light of those stars
which are shaded by the earth from the sun s rays.

This, too, is obviously impossible. The milky way is
always unchanged and among the same constellations (for
it is clearly a greatest circle), 1 whereas, since the sun does
not remain in the same place, what is hidden from it differs

35 at different times. Consequently with the change of the
sun s position the milky way ought to change its position
345 b too : but we find that this does not happen. Besides, if
astronomical demonstrations are correct and the size of the
sun is greater than that of the earth and the distance of the
stars from the earth many times greater than that of the
sun (just as the sun is further from the earth than the

5 moon), then the cone made by the rays of the sun would
terminate at no great distance from the earth, and the
shadow of the earth (what we call night) would not reach
the stars. On the contrary, the sun shines on all the stars
and the earth screens none of them.

jo (3) There is a third theory about the milky way. Some
say that it is a reflection of our sight to the sun, just as they
say that the comet is.-

But this too is impossible. For if the eye and the
mirror and the whole of the object were severally at rest,
then the same part of the image would appear at the same
3 point in the mirror. But if the mirror and the object
move, keeping the same distance from the eye which is at
rest, but at different rates of speed and so :J not always at
the same interval from one another, then it is impossible for
the same image always to appear in the same part of the
mirror. Now the constellations included in the circle of the
milky way move ; and so does the sun, the object to which

20 our sight is reflected ; but we stand still. And the distance

1 346* 17 and note. 2 342 b 35 ; Diels, 30. 6.

3 Reading rf . . . p;& in 1. 17 with E, Alexander (citation), and
Philoponus.

BOOK I. 8 345

of those two from us is constant and uniform, but their
distance from one another varies. For the Dolphin some
times rises at midnight, sometimes in the morning. But in
each case the same parts of the milky way are found near it.
But if it were a reflection and not a genuine affection of
these regions, this ought not to be the case.

Again, we can see the milky way reflected at night in 25
water and similar mirrors. But under these circumstances
it is impossible for our sight to be reflected to the sun.

These considerations show that the milky way is not the
path of one of the planets, nor the light of imperceptible
stars, nor a reflection. And those are the chief theories 30
handed down by others hitherto.

Let us recall our fundamental principle and then explain
our views. We have already laid down l that the outermost
part of what is called the air is potentially fire and that
therefore when the air is dissolved by motion, there is
separated off a kind of matter and of this matter we assert
that comets consist. We must suppose that what happens 35
is the same as in the case of the comets when the matter
does not form independently but is formed by one of the
fixed stars or the planets. Then these stars appear to be
fringed, because matter of this kind follows their course. In
the same way, a certain kind of matter follows the sun,
and we explain the halo as a reflection from it when the 5 ,
air is of the right constitution. Now we must assume that
what happens in the case of the stars severally happens in
the case of the whole of the heavens and all the upper
motion. For it is natural to suppose that, if the motion of
a single star excites a flame, that of all the stars should
have a similar result, 2 and especially in that region in which Ic
the stars are biggest and most numerous and nearest to one
another. Now the circle of the zodiac dissolves this kind
of matter because of the motion of the sun and the planets,

1 34o b 4-32.

^ Fobes inserts after cVcpiTrtfcu (1. 9) the following words from FHN
depare Koi dtaKpivdv dia TO rov KVK\OV p.tye6os, and the following lemmata
from Ol. dvdyKTj Toivvv TU&gt;V avTa&gt;v p-fyiarav KVK\O)V p.u\iuT&lt;i TI]V fj.(\\oi(T&lt;iv
TOi-To 7roirj(Tiv (popdv . . . \pf] yap TOVTO, Iva TroXAr) Kii-ijait /J fiia TO p.(yf6ot
ytyvop.(vrj Kcil 7r\(iova ri]v (&lt;i^u/ Trouya//. Al. Phil, seem to have had
our text without these additions.

346 a METEOROLOGICA

and for this reason most comets are found outside the
tropic circles. 1 Again, no fringe appears round the sun or

15 moon : for they dissolve such matter too quickly to admit
of its formation. But this circle in which the milky way
appears to our sight is the greatest circle, 2 and its position
is such that it extends far outside the tropic circles. Besides
the region is full of the biggest and brightest constellations

ao and also of what are called scattered stars (you have only
to look to see this clearly). So for these reasons all this
matter is continually and ceaselessly collecting there.
A proof of the theory is this : In the circle itself the light
is stronger in that half where the milky way is divided, and
in it the constellations are more numerous and closer to one

25 another than in the other half; which shows that the cause
of the light is the motion of the constellations and nothing
else. For if it is found in the circle in which there are
most constellations and at that point in the circle at which
they are densest and contain the biggest and the most

30 stars, it is natural to suppose that they are the true cause
of the affection in question. The circle and the constella
tions in it may be seen in the diagram." The so-called
1 scattered stars it is not possible to set down in the same
way on the sphere because none of them have an evident

1 345 a 6.

2 It is difficult to understand what is meant by the greatest circle .
Cf. 345 a 33 and 346 b 6. The meaning cannot be a great circle of the
celestial sphere in the ordinary sense; for, (i) this would not justify
the article here and in 346 b 6, (2) the fact that a circle is a great
circle in the ordinary sense does not involve any part of it, except
the points at which it cuts the equator, moving fastest ; unless it
happens to be the equator, and Ar. does not suppose that the milky
way is. Vicomercatus suggests that ^eyta-ros refers to the breadth of the
band, but this is unsatisfactory. \Ve are forced to assume that Ar. was
thinking in a confused way of the outermost sphere, that of the fixed
stars. Every point of this does, of course, move faster than every
corresponding point on an interior sphere. This will also justify the
article. It also explains 345* 33 : the milky way is in the sphere of
the fixed stars and cannot therefore move about, as the hypothesis would
require . It is true that the theory still does not work, even on its own
presuppositions. But it could only work if we supposed the milky way
to rotate on an axis at right angles to its own plane ; and Ar. certainly
did not think it did that.

3 Aristotle must be supposed to have illustrated his theory here by
a diagram of the milky way, but the Greek commentators have not
preserved any tradition of the particular diagram used.

BOOK I. 8 346

permanent position ; but if you look up to the sky the
point is clear. For in this circle alone are the intervals full 35
of these stars : in the other circles there are obvious gaps.
Hence if we accept the cause assigned for the appearance
of comets as plausible we must assume that the same kind
of thing holds good of the milky way. For the fringe
which in the former case is an affection of a single star here
forms in the same way in relation to a whole circle. So if 5
we are to define the milky way we may call it * a fringe
attaching to the greatest circle, and due to the matter
secreted . This, as we said before, 1 explains why there
are few comets and why they appear rarely ; it is because
at each revolution of the heavens this matter has always
been and is always being separated off and gathered into
this region.

We have now explained the phenomena that occur in that I0
part of the terrestrial world which is continuous with the
motions of the heavens, namely, shooting-stars and the
burning flame, comets and the milky way, these being
the chief affections that appear in that region. 15

9 Let us go on to treat of the region which follows next
in order after this and which immediately surrounds the
earth. It is the region common to water and air, and the
processes attending the formation of water above 2 take
place in it. We must consider the principles and causes
of all these phenomena too as before.

The efficient and chief and first cause is the circle in 20
which the sun moves. 3 For the sun as it approaches or
recedes, obviously causes dissipation and condensation and
so gives rise to generation and destruction. Now the earth
remains but the moisture surrounding it is made to evaporate
by the sun s rays and the other heat from above, and rises. 25
But when the heat which was raising it leaves it, in part
dispersing to the higher region, in part quenched through
rising so far into the upper air, then the vapour cools

1 345 a .7-.

2 As distinguished from its formation on and under the earth, cc. 13-
ii. 3.

3 Cp. De Gen. et Corr. ii. 10; esp. 336 b 15 sqq.

346 b METEOROLOGICA

because its heat is gone and because the place is cold, and
30 condenses again and" turns from air into water. And after
the water has formed it falls down again to the earth. 1

The exhalation of water is vapour : air condensing into
water is cloud. Mist is what is left over when a cloud
condenses into water, and is therefore rather a sign of fine
weather than of rain ; for mist might be called a barren
cloud.

35 So we get a circular process that follows the course of
347 a the sun. For according as the sun moves to this side or
that, 2 the moisture in this process rises or falls. We must
think of it as a river flowing up and down in a circle and
made up partly of air, partly of water. When the sun is
near, the stream of vapour flows upwards ; when it recedes,
5 the stream of water flows down : and the order of sequence,
at all events, in this process always remains the same. So
if Oceanus had some secret meaning in early writers,
perhaps they may have meant this river that flows in
a circle about the earth. 1 5

So the moisture is always raised by the heat and descends

10 to the earth again when it gets cold. These processes and, in

some cases, their varieties are distinguished by special

names. When the water falls in small drops it is called

a drizzle ; when the drops are larger it is rain.

Some of the vapour that is formed by day does not rise 10
high because the ratio of the fire that is raising it to the

15 water that is being raised is small. When this cools and
descends at night it is called dew and hoar-frost. When
the vapour is frozen before it has condensed to water again
it is hoar-frost ; and this appears in winter and is commoner
in cold places. It is dew when the vapour has condensed
into water and the heat is not so great as to dry up the

20 moisture that has been raised, nor the cold sufficient (owing
to the warmth of the climate or season) for the vapour itself
to freeze. For dew is more commonly found when the
season or the place is warm, whereas the opposite, as has

1 Cp. 359 b 34sq.

2 i.e. north and south on the ecliptic; cp. 361*4 sq.

3 Cp. 359 b 34-

BOOK I. 10 347 a

been said, is the case with hoar-frost. For obviously
vapour is warmer than water, having still the fire that
raised it : consequently more cold is needed to freeze it. 25

Both dew and hoar-frost are found when the sky is clear
and there is no wind. For the vapour could not be raised
unless the sky were clear, and if a wind were blowing
it could not condense.

The fact that hoar-frost is not found on mountains
contributes to prove that these phenomena occur because
the vapour does not rise high. One reason for this is that 30
it rises from hollow and watery places, so that the heat
that is raising it, bearing as it were too heavy a burden
cannot lift it to a great height but soon lets it fall again.
A second reason is that the motion of the air is more
pronounced at a height, and this dissolves a gathering of
this kind.

Everywhere, except in Pontus, dew is found with south 35
winds and not with north winds. There the opposite is the
case and it is found with north winds and not with south.
The reason is the same as that which explains why dew 347 b
is found in warm weather and not in cold. For the south
wind brings warm, and the north, wintry weather. For the
north wind is cold and so quenches the heat of the evapora
tion. But in Pontus the south wind does not bring warmth
enough to cause evaporation, whereas the coldness of the 5
north wind concentrates the heat by a sort of recoil, so
that there is more evaporation and not less. 1 This is a thing
which we can often observe in other places too. Wells, for
instance, give off more vapour 2 in a north than in a south
wind. Only :! the north winds quench the heat before any
considerable quantity of vapour has gathered, while in 10
a south wind the evaporation is allowed to accumulate.

Water, 4 once formed, does not freeze on the surface of
the earth, in the way that it docs in the region of the
clouds.

1 As you might expect from the coldness of the wind.

2 Read ar^a in 1. 8 with the IVISS.

3 i.e. in places other than Pontus.

4 As contrasted with vapour. Ar. is thinking merely of the lack of
an analogue to hail.

347 b METEOROLOGICA

From the latter there fall three bodies condensed by cold, II
namely rain, snow, hail. Two of these correspond to the
phenomena on the lower level and are due to the same

15 causes, differing from them only in degree and quantity.

Snow and hoar-frost are one and the same thing, and so
are rain and dew : only there is a great deal of the former
and little of the latter. For rain is due to the cooling
of a great amount of vapour, for the region from which
and the time during which the vapour is collected are

20 considerable. But of dew there is little : for the vapour
collects for it in a single day and from a small area, as its
quick formation and scanty quantity show.

The relation of hoar-frost and snow is the same : when
cloud freezes there is snow, when vapour freezes there
is hoar-frost. Hence snow is a sign of a cold season or

25 country. For a great deal of heat is still present and
unless the cold were overpowering it the cloud would not
freeze. For there still survives in it a great deal of the heat
which l caused the moisture to rise as vapour from the
earth.

Hail on the other hand is found in the upper region, but
the corresponding phenomenon in the vaporous region near

30 the earth is lacking. For, as we said, to snow in the upper
region corresponds hoar-frost in the lower, and to rain in
the upper region, dew in the lower. But there is nothing
here to correspond to hail in the upper region. Why this
is so will be clear when we have explained the nature
of hail.

But we must go on to collect the facts bearing on the ii&gt;
35 origin of it, both those which raise no difficulties and those

which seem paradoxical.

348* Hail is ice, and water freezes in winter ; yet hailstorms
occur chiefly in spring and autumn and less often in the
late summer, but rarely in winter and then only when the
cold is less intense. And in general hailstorms occur in
warmer, and snow in colder places. Again, there is
5 a difficulty about water freezing in the upper region. It

1 Omit nvpos in 1. 28 with E 1 and (apparently) Alexander.

BOOK I. 12 348 a

cannot have frozen before becoming water : and water
cannot remain suspended in the air for any space of time.
Nor can we say that the case is like that of particles of
moisture which are carried up owing to their small size
and rest on the air (the water swimming on the air just as 10
small particles of earth and gold often swim on water). In
that case large drops arc formed by the union of many
small, and so fall down. This cannot take place in the case
of hail, since solid bodies cannot coalesce like liquid ones.
Clearly then drops of that size were suspended in the air
or else they could not have been so large when frozen.

Some 1 think that the cause and origin of hail is this.
The cloud is thrust up into the upper atmosphere, which is 15
colder because the reflection of the sun s rays from the
earth ceases there, 2 and upon its arrival there the water
freezes. They think that this explains why hailstorms are
commoner in summer and in warm countries ; the heat is
greater and it thrusts the clouds further up from the earth.
But the fact is that hail does not occur at all at a great 2 o
height : yet it ought to do so, on their theory, just as
we see that snow falls most on high mountains. Again
clouds have often been observed moving with a great noise
close to the earth, terrifying those who heard and saw 25
them as portents of some catastrophe. Sometimes, too,
when such clouds have been seen, without any noise, there
follows a violent hailstorm, and the stones are of incredible
size, and angular in shape. This shows that they have not
been falling for long and that they were frozen near to the
earth, and not as that theory would have it. Moreover, 30
where the hailstones are large, the cause of their freezing
must be present in the highest degree : for hail is ice as
every one can see. Now those hailstones are large which
are angular in shape. And this shows that they froze close
to the earth, for those that fall far are worn away by the 35
length of their fall and become round and smaller in
size.

It clearly follows that the congelation does not take 348 b

1 i.e. Anaxagoras, cp. b 12, Diels, 46 A 85.

2 Cp. 340*27 sqq.

348 b METEOROLOGICA

place because the cloud is thrust up into the cold upper
region.

Now we see that warm and cold react upon one another
by recoil. Hence in warm weather the lower parts of
5 the earth are cold and in a frost they are warm. The
same thing, we must suppose, happens in the air, so that in
the warmer seasons the cold is concentrated by the sur
rounding heat and causes the cloud to go over into water
suddenly. 1 (For this reason rain-drops are much larger on
warm days than in winter, and showers more violent.

10 A shower is said to be more violent in proportion as the
water comes down in a body, and this happens when the
condensation takes place quickly, though this is just the
opposite of what Anaxagoras says. He says that this happens
when the cloud has risen into the cold air ; whereas we say
that it happens when the cloud has descended into the warm
air, and that the more the further the cloud has descended).

15 But when the cold has been concentrated within still more
by the outer heat, it freezes the water it has formed and
there is hail. We get hail when the process of freezing is
quicker than the descent of the water. For if the water
falls in a certain time and the cold is sufficient to freeze it

20 in less, there is no difficulty about its having frozen in the
air, provided that the freezing takes place in a shorter time
than its fall. The nearer to the earth, and the more
suddenly, this process takes place, the more violent is the
rain that results and the larger the raindrops and the

25 hailstones because of the shortness of their fall. For
the same reason large raindrops do not fall thickly. Hail
is rarer in hummer than in spring and autumn, though
commoner than in winter, because the air is drier in
summer, whereas in spring it is still moist, and in autumn
it is beginning to grow moist. It is for the same reason
that hailstorms sometimes occur in the late summer as we
have said. 2
3 o The fact that the water has previously been warmed

1 Omit ore 8c ^aXn^ai/ in 1. 8, with all the MSS. except N corr. ore
/icV is answered by ornv 6 b i5 below and the intervening lines dtb
KOI . . . 6 rai/ p.a\i&lt;TTd are parenthetical and should be printed accordingly.

BOOK I. 12 348

contributes to its freezing quickly : for so it cools sooner.
Hence many people, when they want to cool hot water l
quickly, begin by putting it in the sun. So the inhabitants
of Pontus when they encamp on the ice to fish (they cut 35
a hole in the ice and then fish) pour warm water round
their reeds that it may freeze the quicker, for they use the 349*
ice like lead to fix the reeds. Now it is in hot countries
and seasons that the water which forms soon grows warm.

It is for the same reason that rain falls in summer and
not in winter in Arabia and Ethiopia too, and that in 5
torrents and repeatedly on the same day. For the con
centration or recoil due to the extreme heat of the country
cools the clouds quickly.

So much for an account of the nature and causes of rain, 10
dew, snow, hoar-frost, and hail.

13 Let us explain the nature of winds, and all windy
vapours, also of rivers and of the sea. But here, too, we
must first discuss the difficulties involved : for, as in other
matters, so in this no theory has been handed down to us 15
that the most ordinary man could not have thought of.

Some 2 say that what is called air, when it is in motion
and flows, is wind, and that this same air when it condenses
again becomes cloud and water, implying that the nature
of wind and water is the same. So they define wind as
a motion of the air. Hence some, wishing to say a clever 20
thing, assert that all the winds are one wind, because
the air that moves is in fact all of it one and the
same ; they maintain that the winds appear to differ owing
to the region from which the air may happen to flow :i on
each occasion, but really do not differ at all. This is just 25
like thinking that all rivers are* one and the same river, and
the ordinary unscientific view is better than a scientific
theory like this. If all rivers flow from one source, and
the same is true in the case of the winds, there might be
some truth in this theory ; but if it is no more true in the 30
one case than in the other, this ingenious idea is plainly

1 Read TO 6tpfi6v in 1. 33 with all the MSS. except F corr.

2 Hippocrates Trepi &lt;u&lt;r&&amp;gt;j&gt; (Opp., vol. i, 571. 12, ed. Kiihn).

3 Read ptwv in 1. 24 with the MSS.

349 a METEOROLOGICA

false. What requires investigation is this : the nature of
wind and how it originates, its efficient cause and whence
they derive their source ; whether one ought to think of
the wind as issuing from a sort of vessel and flowing until

35 the vessel is empty, as if let out of a wineskin, or, as
349 b painters represent the winds, as drawing their source from
themselves.

We find analogous views about the origin of rivers. 1
It is thought that the water is raised by the sun and
descends in rain and gathers below the earth and so flows
from a great reservoir, all the rivers from one, or each

5 from a different one. No water at all is generated, but the
volume of the rivers 2 consists of the water that is gathered
into such reservoirs in winter. Hence rivers are always
fuller in winter than in summer, and some are perennial,
others not. Rivers are perennial where the reservoir is large

i and so enough water has collected in it to last out and not
be used up before the winter rain returns. Where the
reservoirs are smaller there is less water in the rivers, and
they are dried up and their vessel empty before the fresh
rain comes on.

15 But if any one will picture to himself a reservoir adequate
to the water that is continuously flowing day by day, and
consider the amount of the water, it is obvious that a
receptacle that is to contain all the water that flows in the
year would be larger than the earth, or, at any rate, not much
smaller.

20 Though it is evident that many reservoirs of this kind do
exist in many parts of the earth, yet it is unreasonable for
any one to refuse to admit that air becomes water in the
earth for the same reason as it does above it. If the cold
causes the vaporous air to condense into water above the
earth we must suppose the cold in the earth to produce

25 this same effect, and recognize that there not only exists in
it and flows out of it actually formed water, but that water
is continually forming in it too.

1 Cp. Anaxagoras, Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy , 135 = Diels,
46 A. 42 5.
? J\ea4 TO ro)v in 1. 7 with ] (TOVTWV E).

BOOK I. 13 349 b

Again, even in the case of the water that is not being
formed from day to day but exists as such, we must not
suppose as some do that rivers have their source in definite 30
subterranean lakes. On the contrary, just as above the
earth small drops form and these join others, till finally the
water descends in a body as rain, so too we must suppose
that in the earth the water at first trickles together little
by little, and that the sources of the rivers drip, as it were,
out of the earth and then unite. This is proved by facts. 35
When men construct an aqueduct they collect the water in 350*
pipes and trenches, as if the earth in the higher ground
were sweating the water out. Hence, too, the head-waters
of rivers are found to flow from mountains, and from the
greatest mountains there flow the most numerous and
greatest rivers. Again, most springs are in the neighbour- 5
hood of mountains and of high ground, whereas if we
except rivers, water rarely appears in the plains. For
mountains and high ground, suspended 1 over the country
like a saturated sponge, make the water ooze out and trickle
together in minute quantities but in many places. They
receive a great deal of water falling as rain (for it makes no 10
difference whether a spongy receptacle is concave and turned
up or convex and turned down : in either case it will contain
the same volume of matter) and they also cool the vapour
that rises and condense it back into water.

Hence, as we said, we find that the greatest rivers flow
from the greatest mountains. This can be seen by looking r^
at itineraries : what is recorded in them consists either of
things which the writer has seen himself or of such as he
has compiled after inquiry from those who have seen
them.

In Asia we find that the most numerous and greatest
rivers flow from the mountain called Parnassus, 2 admittedly &gt;o
the greatest of all mountains towards the south-east. When
you have crossed it you see the outer ocean/ 5 the further
limit of which is unknown to the dwellers in our world.

1 Read cirucpfpapfvtH in 1. 8 with EJF 2 HN.

2 Paropamisus or Hindu Kush.

3 Indian Ocean.

C 2

35o a METEOROLOGICA

Besides other rivers there flow from it the Bactrus, 1 the
Choaspes, 2 the Araxes : 3 from the last a branch separates

25 off and flows into lake Maeotis 4 as the Tanais. 5 From it,
too, flows the Indus, the volume of whose stream is greatest
of all rivers. From the Caucasus flows the Phasis/ 5 and
very many other great rivers besides. Now the Caucasus
is the greatest of the mountains that lie to the north-east,

30 both as regards its extent and its height. A proof of its
height is the fact that it can be seen from the so-called
deeps 7 and from the entrance to the lake. 8 Again, the
sun shines on its peaks for a third part of the night before
sunrise and again after sunset. Its extent is proved by the
fact that though it contains many inhabitable regions which
are occupied by many nations and in which there are said

35 to be great lakes, yet they say that all these regions are
35O b visible up to the last peak. 9 From Pyrene 10 (this is
a mountain towards the west in Celtice) there flow the
Istrus n and the Tartessus. 12 The latter flows outside the
pillars, 13 while the Istrus flows through all Europe into the
Euxine. Most of the remaining rivers flow northwards
5 from the Hercynian mountains u , which are the greatest in
height and extent about that region. In the extreme north,
beyond furthest Scythia, are the mountains called Rhipae. 15
The stories about their size are altogether too fabulous :
however, they say that the most and (after the Istrus) the

10 greatest rivers flow from them. So, too, in Libya there flow
from the Aethiopian mountains the Aegon and the Nyses ; 16
and from the so-called Silver Mountain the two greatest
of named rivers, the river called Chremetes n that flows into

1 Balch-ab. a Kunar.

3 A. probably means the Oxus or Amu-Darya.

4 Sea of Azov. 5 Don. 6 Rion.
7 Cp. 35i a ii. 8 Maeotis.

9 This is unintelligible : our text, though it goes back to Alexander,
must be corrupt.
10 Pyrenees. n Danube. 12 Baetis or Guadalquivir.

13 Of Heracles.

14 The mountains of Bohemia, Silesia, Moravia, and northern
Austria.

16 A mythical northern range to which no definite locality can be
assigned.

6 Read Nvv n s in 1. 12 with the MSS.

17 Sagiet el Hamra.

BOOK I. 13 350

the outer ocean, and the main source of the Nile. Of the 15
rivers in the Greek world, the Achelous flows from Pindus,
the Inachus from the same mountain ; the Strymon, the
Nestus, and the Hebrus all three from Scombrus ; many
rivers, too, flow from Rhodope.

All other rivers would be found to flow in the same way,
but we have mentioned these as examples. Even where 20
rivers flow from marshes, the marshes in almost every case
are found to lie below mountains or gradually rising ground.

It is clear then that we must not suppose rivers to originate
from definite reservoirs: for the whole earth, we might
almost say, would not be sufficient (any more than the 25
region of the clouds would be) l if we were to suppose that
they were fed by actually existing water only and it were
not the case that as some water passed out of existence
some more came into existence, but rivers always drew their
stream from an existing store. Secondly, the fact that
livers rise at the foot of mountains proves that a place
transmits the water it contains by^ gradual percolation of
many drops, little by little, and that this is how the sources
of rivers originate. However, there is nothing impossible 30
about the existence of such places containing a quantity of
water like lakes : only they cannot be big enough to pro
duce the supposed effect. To think that they are is just as
absurd as if one were to suppose that rivers drew all their
water from the sources we see (for most rivers do flow from
springs). So it is no more reasonable to suppose those 35
lakes to contain the whole volume of water than these
springs.

That there exist such chasms and cavities in the earth we 35i a
are taught by the rivers that are swallowed up. They are
found in many parts of the earth : in the Peloponnesus, for
instance, there are many such rivers in Arcadia. The
reason is that Arcadia is mountainous and there are no
channels from its valleys to the sea. So these places get 5
full of water, and this, having no outlet, under the pressure
of the water that is added above, finds a way out for itself

1 i. e. any more than the region of clouds could be supposed to
contain ready-made all the water that falls as rain.

35i a METEOROLOGICA

underground. In Greece this kind of thing happens on
quite a small scale, but the lake at the foot of the Caucasus, 1
which the inhabitants of these parts call a sea, is consider-

10 able. 2 Many great rivers fall into it and it has no visible
outlet but issues below the earth off the land of the
Coraxi 3 about the so-called deeps of Pontus . This is
a place of unfathomable depth in the sea : at any rate no
one has yet been able to find bottom there by sounding.
At this spot, about three hundred stadia from land, there

15 comes up sweet water over a large area, not all of it together
but in three places. And in Liguria a river 4 equal in size
to the Rhodanus 5 is swallowed up and appears again else
where : the Rhodanus being a navigable river.

The same parts of the earth are not always moist or dry, 14

20 but they change according as rivers come into existence and
dry up. And so the relation of land to sea changes too and
a place docs not always remain land or sea throughout all
time, but where there was dry land there comes to be sea, and
where there is now sea, there one day comes to be dryland.

25 But we must suppose these changes to follow some order
and cycle. The principle and cause of these changes is
that the interior of the earth grows and decays, like the
bodies of plants and animals. Only in the case of these
latter the process does not go on by parts, but each of them

30 necessarily grows or decays as a whole, whereas it does go
on by parts in the case of the earth. Here the causes are
cold and heat, which increase and diminish on account of
the sun and its course. It is owing to them that the parts
of the earth come to have a different character, that some
parts remain moist for a certain time, and then dry up and

35 grow old, while other parts in their turn are filled with life

1 Caspian Sea.

2 fyavfpa (1. 9) is certainly wrong it makes indifferent sense and is
omitted by all the MSS. except S rec. Thurot thinks that a word
(such as nfydXtj) or words expressing the contrast to /MIK/JU above are
wanted, but this is not certain.

3 On the east coast of the Black Sea, about the modern Abkasia.

4 Perhaps the Eridanus (Po). Pliny alleges (falsely) that it flows
underground (Pliny iii. 16).

6 Rhone.

BOOK I. 14 35i a

and moisture. Now when places become drier the springs
necessarily give out, and when this happens the rivers first 35l b
decrease in size and then finally become dry ; and when
rivers change and disappear in one part and come into
existence correspondingly in another, the sea must needs be
affected.

If the sea was once pushed out by rivers and encroached 5
upon the land anywhere, it necessarily leaves that place dry
when it recedes ; again, if the dry land has encroached on
the sea at all by a process of silting set up by the rivers
when at their full, the time must come when this place will
be flooded again. 1

But the whole vital process of the earth takes place so
gradually and in periods of time which are so immense
compared with the length of our life, that these changes are 10
not observed, and before their course can be recorded from
beginning to end whole nations perish and are destroyed.
Of such destructions the most utter and sudden are due to
wars ; but pestilence or famine cause them too. Famines,
again, are either sudden and severe or else gradual. In the 15
latter case the disappearance of a nation is not noticed
because some leave the country while others remain ; and
this goes on until the land is unable to maintain any
inhabitants at all. So a long period of time is likely to
elapse from the first departure to the last, and no one ao
remembers and the lapse of time destroys all record even
before the last inhabitants have disappeared. In the same

1 Read a comma after cTrXtuvafcv in 1. 6, dmoivav with EJ 2 FHN,
and 7r\r]dvov(n. The version given implies this line of thought : rivers
fall into the sea at A and push it out (by silting) so that it floods the
land at B ; when those rivers dry up the sea will recede from B.
Again, a river fills up its estuary with silt and so land encroaches on
the sea; when the river dries up the sea will return.

The two orrov clauses are concerned with one and the same process,
but the first considers the effect on the place 2&gt;\ the second the effect
on the place A.

The general principle seems to be that when wet predominates in
a place rivers rise there : this makes the sea recede from the mouth of
the rivers (by silting) and ipso facto encroach elsewhere; when dry
predominates in the place the rivers shrink, then the sea returns there
and ipso facto leaves the other place which it had invaded, dry.

Aristotle is hampered by the fact that from the nature of the case
he is really familiar, as his examples show, with one side of the process
only, the encroaching of land on sea.

35i b MKTEOROLOGICA

way a nation must be supposed to lose account of the time
when it first settled in a land that was changing from

25 a marshy and watery state and becoming dry. Here, too,
the change is gradual and lasts a long time and men do not
remember who came first, or when, or what the land was
like when they came. This has been the case with Egypt.
Here it is obvious that the land is continually getting drier
and that the whole country is a deposit of the river Nile.

30 But because the neighbouring peoples settled in the land
gradually as the marshes dried, the lapse of time has hidden
the beginning of the process. However, 1 all the mouths of
the Nile, with the single exception of that at Canopus, are
obviously artificial and not natural. And Egypt was

35 nothing more than what is called Thebes, as Homer, too,
shows, modern though he is in relation to such changes.
352 a For Thebes is the place that he mentions ; which implies
that Memphis did not yet exist, or at any rate was not as
important as it is now. That this should be so is natural,
since the lower land came to be inhabited later than that
which lay higher. For the parts that lie nearer to the
place where the river is depositing the silt are necessarily
marshy for a longer time since the water always lies most

5 in the newly formed land. But in time this land changes
its character, and in its turn enjoys a period of prosperity.
For these places dry up and come to be in good condition
while the places that were formerly well-tempered some
day 2 grow excessively dry and deteriorate. This happened
to the land of Argos and Mycenae in Greece. In the time

10 of the Trojan wars the Argive land was marshy and could
only support a small population, whereas the land of
Mycenae was in good condition (and for this reason Mycenae
was the superior). But now the opposite is the case, for
the reason we have mentioned : the land of Mycenae has
become completely dry and barren, while the Argive land
that was formerly barren owing to the water has now
become fruitful. Now the same process that has taken

1 i. e. though there is no record of the beginning of this process the
facts alleged prove the thesis.

2 Read TTOTC in 1. 8 with EJFjHN.

BOOK I. 14 35 2

place in this small district must be supposed to be going on 15
over whole countries and on a large scale.

Men whose outlook is narrow suppose the cause of such
events to be change in the universe, in the sense of
a coming to be of the world as a whole. 1 Hence they say
that the sea is being dried up and is growing less, because 20
this is observed to have happened in more places now than
formerly. But this is only partially true. It is true that
many places are now dry, that formerly were covered with
water. But the opposite is true too : for if they look they
will find that there are many places where the sea has
invaded the land. But we must not suppose that the cause 25
of this is that the world is in process of becoming. For it
is absurd to make the universe to be in process because of
small and trifling changes, when the bulk and size of the
earth are surely as nothing in comparison with the whole
world. Rather we must take the cause of all these changes
to be that, just as winter occurs in the seasons of the year,
so in determined periods there comes a great winter of 3
a great year and with it excess of rain. But this excess
does not ahvays occur in the same place. The deluge in
the time of Deucalion, for instance, took place chiefly in the
Greek world and in it especially about ancient Hellas, the 35
country about Dodona and the Achclous, a river which has
often changed its course. Here the Selli dwelt and those
who were formerly called Graeci and now Hellenes. When,
therefore, such an excess of rain occurs we must suppose
that it suffices for a long time. We have seen that some 2
say that the size of the subterranean cavities is what makes 5
some rivers perennial and others not, whereas we maintain
that the size of the mountains is the cause, and their density
and coldness ; for great, dense, and cold mountains catch
and keep and create most water : whereas if the mountains
that overhang the sources of rivers are small or porous and 10
stony and clayey, these rivers run dry earlier. We must
recognize the same kind of thing in this case too.
Where such abundance of rain falls in the great winter

1 Cp. De Caclo, 2;9 b 12; cp. 352^ 16, 353 b 10, 356 10.

2 349 b 3-

352 b METEOROLOGICA

it tends to make the moisture of those places almost ever
lasting. 1 But as time goes on places of the latter type
dry up - more, while those of the former, moist type,

15 do so less : until at last the beginning of the same cycle
returns.

Since there is necessarily some change in the whole world,
but not in the way of coming into existence or perishing (for
the universe is permanent), it must be, as we say, that the
same places are not for ever moist through the presence of
sea and rivers, nor for ever dry. And the facts prove this.

20 The whole land of the Egyptians, whom we take to be the
most ancient of men, has evidently gradually come into
existence and been produced by the river. This is clear
from an observation of the country, and the facts about the
Red Sea suffice to prove it too. One of their kings tried

25 to make a canal to it (for it would have been of no little
advantage to them for the whole region to have become
navigable; Sesostris is said to have been the first of the
ancient kings to try), but he found that the sea was higher
than the land. So he first, and Darius afterwards, stopped
making the canal, lest the sea should mix with the river

30 water and spoil it. So it is clear that all this part was once
unbroken sea. For the same reason Libya the country of
Ammon is, strangely enough, lower and hollower than the
land to the seaward of it. For it is clear that a barrier of silt

35 was formed and after it lakes and dry land, but in course of
time the water that was left behind in the lakes dried up and
353 a is now all gone. Again the silting up of the lake Maeotis by
the rivers has advanced so much that the limit to the size of
the ships which can now sail into it to trade is much lower
than it was sixty years ago. Hence it is easy to infer that

1 Read oifaBai Set (1. 11) with cod. Par. suppl. 314 and Bag., and
punctuate with olroi . . . TTOIOVVIV in a parenthesis and commas after
TToiovaiv and TTpocnroXfLneiv. Also in 1. 13 omit /zuXXoi/, probably
introduced from the next sentence (Par. 2032 and Ol. (lemma) have TM
7ror/ja&gt;*&gt; without /zdXXoj/).

2 Omit yiyvfujieva. in 1. 14 with Ideler (Alexander seems not to have
read it) and read eXarroj/ (so probably Al.). The version given follows
Vicomercato in making rnvra and 6urfpa refer to oo-ot? 5e and OVTOI y&lt;ip,
respectively. But text and interpretation of the whole passage are
doubtful.

BOOK I. 14 353 a

it, too, like most lakes, was originally produced by the rivers 5
and that it must end by drying up entirely.

Again, this process of silting up causes a continuous
current through the Bosporus l ; and in this case we can
directly observe the nature of the process. Whenever
the current from the Asiatic shore threw up a sandbank,
there first formed a small lake behind it. Later it dried up 10
and a second sandbank formed in front of the first and
a second lake. This process went on uniformly and without
interruption. Now when this has been repeated often
enough, in the course of time the strait must become like
a river, and in the end the river itself must dry up.

So it is clear, since there will be no end 2 to time and the 15
world is eternal, that neither the Tanais nor the Nile has
always been flowing, but that the region whence they flow
was once dry : for their effect may be fulfilled, but time
cannot. And this will be equally true of all other rivers.
But if rivers come into existence and perish and the same 20
parts of the earth were not always moist, the sea must
needs change correspondingly. And if the sea is always
advancing in one place and receding in another it is clear
that the same parts of the whole earth are not always either
sea or land, but that all this changes in course of time.

So we have explained that the same parts of the earth are 25
not always land or sea and why that is so : and also why
some rivers are perennial and others not.

BOOK II

I LET us explain the nature of the sea and the reason why
such a large mass of water is salt and the way in which it
originally came to be.

The old writers who invented theogonies say that the
sea has springs, 3 for they want earth and sea to have 35
foundations and roots of their own. Presumably they 353*

1 The Cimmerian and not the Thracian Bosporus is meant : cp.
Reclus Noui . Gtog. U?rii ersel/e, v, p. 788 sqq.

2 Read vnoXetytt in 1. 15 with JFHN Al. Ol. (lemma).
8 e.g. Hesiod., Theog. 282.

353 b METEOROLOGICA

thought that this view was grander and more impressive as
implying that our earth was an important part of the
universe. For they believed that the whole world had
been built up round our earth and for its sake, and that
the earth was the most important and primary part of it.
5 Others, 1 wiser in human knowledge, give an account of its
origin. At first, they say, the earth was surrounded by
moisture. Then the sun began to dry it up, part of it
evaporated and is the cause of winds and the turnings back
of the sun and the moon, 2 while the remainder forms the

10 sea. So the sea is being dried up and is growing less, and
will end by being some day entirely dried up. 3 Others l
say that the sea is a kind of sweat exuded by the earth
when the sun heats it, and that this explains its saltness
for all sweat is salt. Others 5 say that the saltness is due
to the earth. Just as water strained through ashes becomes

15 salt, so the sea owes its saltness to the admixture of earth
with similar properties.

We must now consider the facts which prove that the
sea cannot possibly have springs. The waters we find on
the earth either flow or are stationary. All flowing water

20 has springs. (By a spring, as we have explained above, 6
we must not understand a source from which waters are
ladled as it were from a vessel, but a first point at which
the water which is continually forming and percolating
gathers. 7 ) Stationary water is either that which has

1 Alexander refers this to Anaximander (Diels, 2. 27) and Diogenes
of Apollonia (Diels, 51 A. 9, 17); but it would fit almost any of the
Milesians , e.g. Thales(cp. Burnet, 9) ; Anaximenes(Diels,3 A. 7, 5).

2 Cp. 354 b 33sqq. The turnings back were explained as due to
the resistance of compressed air by Anaximenes (Diels, 3 A. 15) and
Anaxagoras (Diels, 46 A. 42, 9) ; as due to a lack of the moisture
that nourished them, according to Alexander (on the authority of
Theophr.j on 354 b 33 sq. below, by Anaximander and Diogenes. Zeller
I 5 , p. 223, n. 3, and Heath, Aristarchus, p. 33, refuse to attribute the
view to Anaximander and interpret rpoTnu as revolutions .

a cp. 352*19-

4 Empedocles, cp. 357*24. Diels, 21 B. 55, A. 25 and 66, cp.
55 A. 99* (Democritus) and 80 B. 32 (Antiphon).

5 Cp. Diels, 1 1 A. 33 (Xenophanes) ; 57 A. 19 (Metrodorus of Chios) ;
46 A. 90 (Anaxagoras). 6 349 b 27.

7 Read Taptevopfvav in 1. 21 with E 2 and Cod. Par. Suppl. 314, els
rjv in 1. 22 with EjH and Alexander, and inravra with EjHN and
Alexander.

BOOK II. i 353 b

collected and has been left standing, marshy pools, for
instance, and lakes, which differ merely in size, or else it
comes from springs. In this case it is always artificial, 25
I mean as in the case of wells, otherwise the spring would
have to be above the outlet. Hence the water from
fountains and rivers flows of itself, whereas wells need to
be worked artificially. All the waters that exist belong to
one or other of these classes.

On the basis of this division we can see that the sea 30
cannot have springs. For it falls under neither of the two
classes ; it does not flow and it is not artificial ; whereas
all water from springs must belong to one or other of them.
Natural standing water from springs is never found on such
a large scale.

1 Again, there are several seas that have no communication 35
with one another at all. The Red Sea, 2 for instance, com- 354 a
municates but slightly with the ocean outside the straits a ,
and the Hyrcanian 4 and Caspian seas are distinct from this
ocean and people dwell all round them. Hence, if these
seas had had any springs anywhere they must have been
discovered.

It is true that in straits, where the land on either side 5
contracts an open sea into a small space, the sea appears
to flow. But this is because it is swinging to and fro. In
the open sea this motion is not observed, but where the
land narrows and contracts the sea the motion that was 10
imperceptible in the open necessarily strikes the attention.

The whole of the Mediterranean docs actually flow.
The direction of this flow is determined by the depth of
the basins and by the number of rivers. Maeotis flows

1 Omit eTrfi in 1. 35 with Bon. Ar. St. iii.

2 i.e. the Indian Ocean, cp. Partsch, Ar. iiber d. Steigen des Nil,
Abh. d. kon. Sachs. Ges. d. Wiss., 1909, p. 569.

3 i. e. the Atlantic.

4 If this is not the Aral, which A. can hardly have known, we must
explain the plural thus : Hyrcanian is used to denote the Caspian,
e. g. in Hecataeus ; A. does not seem to have noticed that one and the
same lake was meant and imagines the Hyrcanian distinct from the
Caspian by a mere blunder. Or he may have thought of the two as
different parts of the same sea in the way in which the Aegean and
Adriatic might be called distinct seas by a writer who knew they were
one in a sense. Cp. Bolchert, Aristoteles 1 Erdkunde v. Asicn u.
Libyen, p. 10.

354 a METEOROLOGICA

into Pontus 1 and Pontus into the Aegean. After that the

15 flow of the remaining seas is not so easy to observe. The
current of Maeotis and Pontus is due to the number of
rivers (more rivers flow into the Euxine and Maeotis than
into the whole Mediterranean with its much larger basin),
and to their own shallowness. For we find the sea getting

ao deeper and deeper. Pontus is deeper than Maeotis, the
Aegean than Pontus, the Sicilian sea than the Aegean;
the Sardinian and Tyrrhenic being the deepest of all.
(Outside the pillars of Herakles the sea is shallow owing to
the mud, but calm, for it lies in a hollow.) 2 We see, then,
that just as single rivers flow from mountains, so it is

25 with the earth as a whole : the greatest volume of water
flows from the higher regions in the north. Their alluvium
makes the northern seas shallow, while the outer seas are
deeper. Some further evidence of the height of the
northern regions of the earth is afforded by the view of
many of the ancient meteorologists. 3 They believed that

30 the sun did not pass below the earth, but round its northern
part, and that it was the height of this which obscured the
sun and caused night.

So much to prove that there cannot be sources of the
sea and to explain its observed flow.

354 b We must now discuss the origin of the sea, if it has an
origin, and the cause of its salt and bitter taste.

What made earlier writers consider the sea to be the
original and main body of water is this. It seems reasonable
5 to suppose that to be the case on the analogy of the other
elements. Each of them has a main bulk which by
reason of its mass is the origin of that element,
and any parts which change and mix with the other
elements come from it. Thus the main body of fire is in

1 Black Sea.

2 i. e. it is shallow, yet the water does not flow back (as you might
expect on the analogy of Maeotis, &c.), because the sea lies in a hollow
as is proved by the calm (Alexander). This seems the best that can
be made of this suspicious sentence. The mud is an echo of the
Sargasso Sea.

3 e. g. Anaximenes, Diels, 3 A. 7 ( 6), 14. Aristotle is not endorsing
the view about the sun, and there is no need to condemn this passage
in consequence as Berger does.

BOOK II. 2 354 b

the upper region ; that of air occupies the place next inside
the region of fire ; while the mass of the earth is that
round which the rest of the elements are seen to lie. So 10
we must clearly look for something analogous in the case
of water. But here we can find no such single mass, as in
the case of the other elements, except the sea. River water
is not a unity, nor is it stable, but is seen to be in a con
tinuous process of becoming from day to day. It was this 15
difficulty which made people regard the sea as the origin
and source of moisture and of all water. And so we find
it maintained that rivers not only flow into the sea but
originate from it, 1 the salt water becoming sweet by
filtration.

But this view involves another difficulty. If this body
of water is the origin and source of all water, why is it 20
salt and not sweet ? The reason for this, besides answering
this question, will ensure our having a right first conception
of the nature of the sea.

The earth is surrounded by water, just as that is by the
sphere of air. and that again by the sphere called that of
fire (which is the outermost 2 both on the common view 25
and on ours). Now the sun, moving as it does, sets up
processes of change and becoming and decay, and by its
agency the finest and sweetest water is every day carried
up and is dissolved into vapour and rises to the upper
region, where it is condensed again by the cold and so 30
returns to the earth. This, as we have said before/ 5 is the
regular course of nature.

Hence all my predecessors 4 who supposed that the sun
was nourished by moisture are absurdly mistaken. Some 5
go on to say that the solstices are due to this, the reason 355 a
being that the same places cannot always supply the sun
with nourishment and that without it he must perish. For
the fire we are familiar with lives as long as it is fed, and 5

1 e.g. Xenophanes, Diels, II B. 30.

2 Read roimoi/ in 1. 25 with JFHN and Alexander, for TTUVTWV.

3 1.9.

4 Cp- 353 b 5- Cp. Burnet, 9 (Thales) ; Diels, 3 A. 7, 5 (Anaxi-
menes).

5 Perhaps Anaximander and Diogenes ; cp. 353 b 6 and 355*22.

355 a METEOROLOGICA

the only food for fire is moisture. 1 As if the moisture
that is raised could reach the sun ! or this ascent were
really like that performed by flame as it comes into
being, and to which they supposed the case of the sun
to be analogous ! Really there is no similarity. A flame
is a process of becoming, involving a constant interchange

10 of moist and dry. It cannot be said to be nourished since
it scarcely persists as one and the same for a moment.
This cannot be true of the sun ; for if it were nourished
like that, as they say it is, we should obviously not only
have a new sun every day, as Heraclitus 2 says, but a new

15 sun every moment. Again, when the sun causes the
moisture to rise, this is like fire heating water. So, as the
fire is not fed by the water above it, it is absurd to suppose
that the sun feeds on that moisture, even if its heat made
all the water in the world evaporate. Again, it is absurd,
considering the number and size of the stars, that these

20 thinkers should consider the sun only and overlook the ques
tion how the rest of the heavenly bodies subsist. Again,
they are met by the same difficulty as those 3 who say that
at first the earth itself was moist and the world round the
earth was warmed by the sun, and so air was generated
and the whole firmament grew, and the air caused winds

25 and solstices. The objection is that we always plainly see
the water that has been carried up coming down again.
Even if the same amount does not come back in a year or
in a given country, yet in a certain period all that has been
carried up is returned. This implies that the celestial
bodies do not feed on it, and that we cannot distinguish
between some air which preserves its character once it is

30 generated and some other which is generated but becomes

1 Ka\ 8ia TOUT . . . povov (354 b 34~355 a 5) is a parenthesis (Thurot).

2 Diels, 12 B. 6.

3 Diels, 51 A. 9 refers this specially to Diogenes. Alexander identifies
the doctrine with that of 353 b 6 and refers it to Anaximander and
Diogenes (on the authority of Theophrastus). It seems impossible
to distinguish the evioi of 354 b 34 and the of Qdo-Koi Tfs here, 355* 22. It
looks as if the real distinction was that between those who explained
the * turnings by compressed air and those who explained them by
lack of nourishment. But in that case Aristotle, Theophrastus, and
Alexander are all confused and have failed to maintain the distinction.

BOOK II. 2 355 a

water again and so perishes ; on the contrary, all the
moisture alike is dissolved and all of it condensed back
into water.

The drinkable, sweet water, then, is light and is all of it
drawn up: the salt water is heavy and remains behind, but not
in its natural place. For this is a question which has been
sufficiently discussed (I mean about the natural place 35
that water, like the other elements, must in reason have),
and the answer is this. The place which we see the sea 355 b
filling is not its natural place but that of water. It seems
to belong to the sea because the weight of the salt water 5
makes it remain there, while the sweet, drinkable water
which is light is carried up. The same thing happens in
animal bodies. Here, too, the food when it enters the body
is sweet, yet the residuum and dregs of liquid food are
found to be bitter and salt. This is because the sweet and
drinkable part of it has been drawn away by the natural animal 10
heat and has passed into the flesh and the other parts of
the body according to their several natures. Now just as
here it would be wrong for any one to refuse to call the
belly the place of liquid food because that disappears from
it soon, and to call it the place of the residuum because
this is seen to remain, so in the case of our present subject.
This place, we say, is the place of water. Hence all rivers 15
and all the water that is generated flow into it : for water
flows into the deepest place, and the deepest part of the
earth is filled by the sea. Only all the light and sweet
part of it is quickly carried off by the sun, while the rest
remains for the reason we have explained. It is quite 20
natural that some people should have been puzzled by the
old question why such a mass of water leaves no trace
anywhere (for the sea does not increase though innumerable
and vast rivers are flowing into it every day). But if one
considers the matter the solution is easy. The same 25
amount of water does not take as long to dry up when it
is spread out as when it is gathered in a body, and indeed
the difference is so great that in the one case it might
persist the whole day long while in the other it might all
disappear in a moment as for instance if one were to

355 b METEOROLOGICA

3 o spread out a cup of water over a large table. This is the
case with the rivers : all the time they are flowing their
water forms a compact mass, but when it arrives at a vast
wide place it quickly and imperceptibly evaporates.

But the theory of the Phaedo 1 about rivers and the sea

is impossible. There it is said that the earth is pierced

35 by intercommunicating channels and that the original head

356* and source of all waters is what is called Tartarus a mass

of water about the centre, from which all waters, flowing

and standing, are derived. This primary and original water

is always surging to and fro, and so it causes the rivers to

flow on this side of the earth s centre and on that ; for it

has no fixed seat but is always oscillating about the centre.

5 Its motion up and down is what fills rivers. Many of these

form lakes in various places (our sea is an instance of one

of these), but all of them come round again in a circle to

the original source of their flow, many at the same point,

but some at a point opposite to that from which they

10 issued ; for instance, if they started from the other side of

the earth s centre, they might return from this side of it.

They descend only as far as the centre, for after that all

motion is upwards. Water gets its tastes and colours from

c-^the kind of earth the rivers happened to flow through.

But on this theory rivers do not always flow in the same

15 sense. For since they flow to the centre from which they issue

forth they will not be flowing down any more than up, but

in whatever direction the surging of Tartarus inclines to.

But at this rate we shall get the proverbial rivers flowing

upwards, 2 which is impossible. Again, where is the water

that is generated and what goes up again as vapour to come

20 from ? For this must all of it simply be ignored, 3 since

the quantity of water is always the same and all the water

that flows out from the original source flows back to it

again. This itself is not true, since all rivers are seen to

end in the sea except where one flows into another. Not

one of them ends in the earth, but even when one is

25 swallowed up it comes to the surface again. And those

1 Phaedo, in c sq. 2 Eur. Med. 410.

3 Read ft-aipdv in 1. 20.

BOOK II. 2 356 a

rivers are large which flow for a long distance through
a low-lying country, for by their situation and length they
cut off the course of many others and swallow them up. 1
This is why the Istrus and the Nile are the greatest of
the rivers which flow into our sea. Indeed, so many rivers
fall into them that there is disagreement as to the sources 30
of them both. 2 All of which is plainly impossible on
the theory, and the more so as it derives the sea from
Tartarus.

Enough has been said to prove that this is the natural
place of water and not of the sea, and to explain why sweet
water is only found in rivers, while salt water is stationary, 35
and to show that the sea is the end rather than the source 356 b
of water, analogous to the residual matter of all food, and
especially liquid food, in animal bodies.

3 We must now explain why the sea is salt, and ask whether
it eternally exists as identically the same body, or whether
it did not exist at all once and some day will exist no
longer, but will dry up as some people think. 5

Every one admits this, that if the whole world originated
the sea did too ; for they make them come into being at
the same time. It follows that if the universe is eternal
the same must be true of the sea. Any one who thinks
like Democritus :5 that the sea is diminishing and will 10
disappear in the end reminds us of Aesop s tales. His
story was that Charybdis had twice sucked in the sea :
the first time she made the mountains visible ; the second
time the islands ; and when she sucks it in for the last time
she will dry it up entirely. Such a talc is appropriate 15
enough to Aesop in a rage with the ferryman, but not to
serious inquirers. Whatever made the sea remain at first,
whether it was its weight, as some even of those who hold
these views say (for it is easy to see the cause here), or
some other reason clearly the same thing must make it 20
persist for ever. They must either deny that the water
raised by the sun will return at all, or, if it does, they

1 Whereas on the theory these conditions would be unnecessary.

2 Omit airias in 1. 30 with Alexander and Thurot.

3 Diels, 55 A. 99** and 100. Cp. 352 a 19.

D 2

35 6 b METEOROLOGICA

must admit that the sea persists for ever or as long as
this process goes on, and again, that for the same period of
time that sweet water must have been carried up before-

25 hand. So the sea will never dry up : for before that can
happen the water that has gone up beforehand will return
to it : l for if you say that this happens once you must
admit its recurrence. If you stop the sun s course there is
no drying agency. If you let it go on it will draw up the
sweet water as we have said whenever it approaches, and let.

3 o it descend again when it recedes. This notion about the sea
is derived from the fact that many places are found to be
drier now than they once were. Why this is so we have
explained. 2 The phenomenon is due to temporary excess
of rain and not to any process of becoming in which

35 the universe or its parts are involved. Some day the
357 a opposite will take place and after that the earth will grow
dry once again. We must recognize that this process
always goes on thus in a cycle, for that is more satisfactory
than to suppose a change in the whole world in order
to explain these facts. But we have dwelt longer on this
point than it deserves.

5 To return to the saltness of the sea : those who create
the sea once for all, or indeed generate it at all, cannot
account for its saltness. It makes no difference whether
the sea is the residue of all the moisture that is about the
earth and has been drawn up by the sun, or whether all
the flavour existing in the whole mass of sweet water is due
to the admixture of a certain kind of earth. Since the

10 total volume of the sea is the same once the water that
evaporated has returned, it follows that it must either have
been salt at first too, or, if not at first, then not now either.
If it was salt from the very beginning, then we want to
know why that was so ; and why, if salt water was drawn
up then, that is not the case now.

Again/Jf it is maintained that an admixture of earth

15 makes the sea salt (for they say that earth has many
flavours and is washed down by the rivers and so makes
the sea salt by its ["admixture), it is strange that rivers
1 Omitting r^v in 1. 26. 2 I. 14.

BOOK II. 3 357 a

should not be salt too. How can the admixture of this
earth have such a striking effect in a great quantity of 20
water and not in each river singly ? For the sea, differing
in nothing from rivers but in being salt, is evidently
simply the totality of river water, and the rivers are the
vehicle in which that earth is carried to their common
destination. 1

It is equally absurd to suppose that anything has been
explained by calling the sea the sweat of the earth , like 25
Empedocles. 2 Metaphors are poetical and so that ex
pression of his may satisfy the requirements of a poem, but
as a scientific theory it is unsatisfactory. Even in the case
of the body it is a question how the sweet liquid drunk be
comes salt sweat whether it is merely by the departure of
some element in it which is sweetest, or by the admixture 3
of something, as when water is strained through ashes.
Actually the saltness seems to be due to the same cause as
in the case of the residual liquid that gathers in the bladder.
That, too, becomes bitter and salt though the liquid we
drink and that contained in our food is sweet. If then the 357 b
bitterness is due in these cases (as with the water strained
through lye) to the presence of a certain sort of stuff that is
carried along by the urine (as indeed we actually find a salt
deposit settling in chamber-pots) and is secreted from the
flesh in sweat (as if the departing moisture were washing 5
the stuff out of the body), then no doubt the admixture of
something earthy with the water is what makes the sea 3
salt.

Now in the body stuff of this kind, viz. the sediment of food,
is due to failure to digest : but how there came to be any
such thing in the earth requires explanation. Besides, how 10
can the drying and warming of the earth cause the secretion
of such a great quantity of water ; especially as that must
be a mere fragment of what is left in the earth? Again,
waiving the question of quantity, 4 why does not the earth

1 And it is therefore absurd that they should not be salt.

2 Diels, 21 A. 66; B. 55. Cp. 353 b n.

3 Read KUV in 1. 6.

4 Read nXdov (with J^FJ and (\arrov in 11. 13, 14 ;
point of quantity raised in the preceding argument .

35? b METEOROLOGICA

sweat now when it happens to be in process of drying? 1 If

15 it did so then, it ought to do so now. But it does not : on
the contrary, when it is dry it grows moist, but when it is
moist it does not secrete anything at all. How then 2 was
it possible for the earth at the beginning when it was moist
to sweat as it grew dry ? Indeed, the theory 3 that main
tains that most of the moisture departed and was drawn up

20 by the sun and that what was left over is the sea is more
reasonable ; but for the earth to sweat when it is moist is
impossible.

Since all the attempts to account for the saltness of the;
sea seem unsuccessful let us explain it by the help of the
principle we have used already. 4

25 Since we recognize two kinds of evaporation, one moist,
the other dry, it is clear that the latter must be recognized
as the source of phenomena like those we are concerned
with.

But there is a question which we must discuss first.
Does the sea always remain numerically one and consisting
of the same parts, or is it, too, one in form and volume
while its parts are in continual change, like air and sweet

30 water and fire ? All of these 5 are in a constant state of
change, but the form and the quantity of each of them are
fixed, just as they are in the case of a flowing river or
a burning flame. The answer is clear, and there is no doubt
that the same account holds good of all these things alike.
358 a They differ in that some of them change more rapidly or
more slowly than others; and 7 they all are involved
in a process of perishing and becoming which yet affects
them all in a regular course.

1 Omit ^ yap ... niKpos in 1. 14 with (apparently) some MSS. of
Alexander. The point is not that the earth secretes moisture but not
salt moisture ; but, as the following lines show, that it does not
secrete anything at all under the conditions supposed. The addition
may be due to the idea that A. had admitted in the account of rivers
(i. 13) that the earth did secrete moisture.

2 Read ovv in 1. 17 with JFHN Al. for d ovv.

3 Cp. 353^6,356^9. 34i b 6ff.

del . . . pfvp.a (11. 30-32) is a parenthesis (Bonitz). The apodosis
begins with (fravepov 1. 32.

6 Read TO & eldos KCU TO n\^6os in 1. 31 with Bonitz.

7 Read re for re /cat in 1. I with JFHN.

BOOK II. 3 358

This being so we must go on to try to explain why the
sea is salt. There are many facts which make it clear that
this taste is due to the admixture of something. First, in 5
animal bodies what is least digested, the residue of liquid
food, is salt and bitter, as we said before. All animal
excreta are undigested, but especially that which gathers in
the bladder (its extreme lightness proves this ; for every
thing that is digested is condensed), and also sweat ; in 10
these then is excreted (along with other matter) an
identical substance to which this flavour is due. The
case of things burnt is analogous. What heat fails to
assimilate becomes the excrementary residue in animal
bodies, and, in things burnt, ashes. That is why some
people say that it was burnt earth that made the sea salt.
To say that it was burnt earth is absurd ; but to say that it 15
was something like burnt earth is true. We must suppose
that just as in the cases we have described, so in the world
as a whole, everything that grows and is naturally generated
always leaves an undigested residue, like that of things
burnt, consisting of this sort of earth. All the earthy stuff in
the dry exhalation l is of this nature, and it is the dry ex- 20
halation which accounts for its great quantity. Now since,
as we have said, the moist and the dry evaporations are
mixed, some quantity of this stuff must always be included
in the clouds and the water that are formed by condensa
tion, and must redescend to the earth in rain. This process 25
must always go on with such regularity as the sublunary
world admits of, and it is the answer to the question how
the sea comes to be salt.

It also explains why rain that comes from the south, and
the first rains of autumn, are brackish. The south is
the warmest of winds a and it blows from dry and hot ?,o
regions. Hence it carries little moist vapour and that is
why it is hot. (It makes no difference even if this is not

1 Read uvadv^idad in 1. 20 with Thurot. dvaQvptacrtv is read by all
the MSS. and by Alexander. The mistake may be due to the failure
to recognize that the dvadv pitta is may be charged with earthy particles.

2 Omit KG! T&lt;U pcyeOei KOI ro&gt; Tri/eu/iari (1. 29), which make no sense
in connexion with dXfeii/oraror. Al. does not seem to have read the
words. Ol. does, but the yp. " dXrjOivwraTos " which he records suggests
that the received text was seen to be nonsense.

35 ga METEOROLOGICA

its true character and it is originally a cold wind, for it be
comes warm on its way by incorporating with itself a great
quantity of dry evaporation from the places it passes over.)

35 The north wind, on the other hand, coming from moist
358 b regions, is full of vapour and therefore cold. It is dry in
our part of the world because it drives the clouds away
before it, but in the south it is rainy ; just as the south is
a dry wind in Libya. So the south wind charges the rain
that falls with a great quantity of this stuff. Autumn l rain

5 is brackish because the heaviest water must fall first ; so
that that which contains the greatest quantity of this kind
of earth descends quickest.

This, too, is why the sea is warm. Everything that has
been exposed to fire contains heat potentially, as we see in
the case of lye and ashes and the dry and liquid excreta of

10 animals. Indeed those animals which are hottest in the
belly have the hottest excreta.

The action of this cause is continually making the sea
more salt, but some part of its saltness is always being
drawn up with the sweet water. This is less than the sweet
water in the same ratio in which the salt and brackish

15 element in rain is less than the sweet, and so the saltness
of the sea remains constant on the whole. Salt water when
it turns into vapour becomes sweet, and the vapour does not
form salt water when it condenses again. This I know by
experiment. The same thing is true in every case of the
kind : wine 2 and all fluids that evaporate and condense

20 back into a liquid state become water. They all are water
modified by a certain admixture, the nature of which
determines their flavour. But this subject must be con
sidered on another more suitable occasion.

For the present let us say this. The sea is there and

2 5 some of it is continually being drawn up and becoming
sweet ; this returns from above with the rain. But it is now
different from what it was when it was drawn up, and its
weight makes it sink below the sweet water. 3 This process

1 Kai ( b 4) corresponds to re ( a 29) (Thurot).

2 It is not true of wine.

BOOK II. 3 358 b

prevents the sea, as it does rivers, 1 from drying up except
from local causes (this must happen to sea and rivers alike).
On the other hand the parts neither of the earth nor of the sea 3
remain constant but only their whole bulk. For the same
thing is true of the earth as of the sea : some of it is carried
up and some comes down with the rain, and both that which
remains on the surface and that which comes down again
change 2 their situations.

There is more evidence to prove that saltness is due to the
admixture of some substance, besides that which we have 35
adduced. Make a vessel of wax and put it in the sea, 359 a
fastening its mouth in such a way as to prevent any water
getting in. Then the water that percolates through the wax
sides of the vessel is sweet, the earthy stuff, the admixture
of which makes the water salt, being separated off as it were
by a filter. 3 It is this stuff which makes salt water heavy 5
(it weighs more than freshwater) and thick. The difference
in consistency is such that ships with the same cargo very
nearly sink in a river when they are quite fit to navigate in
the sea. This circumstance has before now caused loss to 10
shippers freighting their ships in a river. That the thicker
consistency is due to an admixture of something is proved
by the fact that if you make strong brine by the admixture
of salt, eggs, even when they are full, float in it. It almost
becomes like mud ; such a quantity of earthy matter is there 15
in the sea. The same thing is done in salting fish.

Again if, as is fabled, there is a lake in Palestine, such
that if you bind a man or beast and throw it in it floats and
does not sink, this would bear out what we have said. They 20
say that this lake is so bitter and salt that no fish live in it
and that if you soak clothes in it and shake them it cleans
them. The following facts all of them support our theory
that it is some earthy stuff in the water which makes it salt.
In Chaonia there is a spring of brackish water that flows into 25
a neighbouring river which is sweet but contains no fish. The
local story is that when Heracles came from Erytheia driving

1 CP- 359 b 22.

2 Read /ifrafriAXfi in 1. 33 with EJFHN 2 .

3 Cp. Hist. An. viii. 590*24. Diels, 21 A. 66. Facts do not bear
out this statement ; cp. Uiels, Hermes, xl, p. 310.

3 59 a METEOROLOGICA

the oxen and gave the inhabitants the choice, they chose salt

30 in preference to fish. They get the salt from the spring.
They boil off some of the water and let the rest stand ; when
it has cooled and the heat and moisture have evaporated
together it gives them salt, not in lumps but loose and light
like snow. It is weaker than ordinary salt and added freely

35 gives a sweet taste, and it is not as white as salt generally
359 b is. Another instance of this is found in Umbria. There is
a place there where reeds and rushes grow. They burn
some of these, put the ashes into water and boil it off.
When a little water is left and has cooled it gives a quantity
of salt. 1

5 Most salt rivers and springs must once have been hot.
Then the original fire in them was extinguished but the earth
through which they percolate preserves the character of lye
or ashes. Springs and rivers with all kinds of flavours are
found in many places. These flavours must in every case

10 be due to the fire that is or was 2 in them, for if you expose
earth to different degrees of heat it assumes various kinds
and shades of flavour. It becomes full of alum and lye and
other things of the kind, and the fresh water percolates
through these and changes its character. Sometimes it be-

15 comes acid as in Sicania, a part of Sicily. There they get
a salt and acid water which they use as vinegar to season
some of their dishes. In the neighbourhood of Lyncus, too,
there is a spring of acid water, and in Scythia a bitter
spring. The water from this makes the whole of the river
into which it flows bitter. 3 These differences are explained

20 by a knowledge of the particular mixtures that determine
different savours. 4 But these have been explained in
another treatise. 5

We have now given an account of waters and the sea,

1 Cp. John Boyes, King of the Wa-Kikuyu, p. 108. They (the
Kikuyu) used to burn large quantities of green papyrus reed, mixing
the ashes with their food instead of salt.

2 Read eyyei/o^eV/?i/ in 1. 10 with J Al.

3 Cp. Herod, iv. 52, 81.

4 Read SrjXai, nolot in 1. 20 ; omitting 8e after TTOIOI with EJFHNj Al.
and keeping 8 after eipijrai with E (original reading) JFHN.

Perhaps De Sensu c. 4 ; though Ol. (and more doubtfully Al.) refers
to a treatise IT.

BOOK II. 3 359 b

why they persist, how they change, what their nature is,
and have explained most of their natural operations and 25
affections.

4 Let us proceed to the theory of winds. Its basis is
a distinction we have already made. 1 We recognize two
kinds of evaporation, one moist, the other dry. The former
is called vapour : for the other there is no general name but 30
we must call it a sort of smoke, applying to the whole of it
a word that is proper to one of its forms. The moist
cannot exist without the dry nor the dry without the moist :
whenever we speak of either we mean that it predominates.
Now 2 when the sun in its circular course approaches,
it draws up by its heat the moist evaporation : when it 35
recedes the cold makes the vapour that had been raised con- 36o a
dense back into water which falls and is distributed through
the earth. 3 (This explains why there is more rain in winter
and more by night than by day: though the fact is not
recognized because rain by night is more apt to escape ob
servation than by day.) But there is a great quantity of fire 5
and heat in the earth, and the sun not only draws up the
moisture that lies on the surface of it, but warms and dries
the earth itself. Consequently, since there are two kinds of
evaporation, as we have said, one like vapour, the other like
smoke,both of them are necessarily generated. Thatinwhich 10
moisture predominates is the source of rain, as we explained
before, 4 while the dry evaporation is the source and sub
stance of all winds. That things must necessarily take this
course is clear from the resulting phenomena themselves, 5
for the evaporation that is to produce them must necessarily 15
differ ; and the sun and the warmth in the earth not only
can but must produce these evaporations.

Since the two evaporations are specifically distinct, wind
and rain obviously differ and their substance is not the same,
as those say who maintain that one and the same air when 20
in motion is wind, but when it condenses again is water.

1 34 i b 6ff.

2 Punctuate with Bonitz 610 . . . pa\\ov (11. 2-4) in a parenthesis,
commas after p.ii\\oi&gt; and after y^v (1. 5), and colon after Oeppuiixiiv (I. 8).

3 Cp. 346 b 2l, 35. 4 i. 9. 6 i.e. rain and wind.

3 6o a METEOROLOGICA

1 Air, as we have explained in an earlier book, 2 is made up of
these as constituents. Vapour is moist and cold (for its
fluidity is due to its moistness, and because it derives from
water it is naturally cold, like water that has not been

25 warmed) : whereas the smoky evaporation is hot and dry.
Hence each contributes a part, and air is moist and hot. 1
It is absurd that this air that surrounds us should become
wind when in motion, whatever be the source of its motion
on the contrary the case of winds is like that of rivers. We

30 do not call water that flows anyhow a river, even if there is
a great quantity of it, but only if the flow comes from
a spring. So too with the winds ; a great quantity of air
might be moved by the fall of some large object without
flowing from any source or spring. 3

The facts bear out our theory. It is because the evapora-

35 tion takes place uninterruptedly but differs in degree and

36o b quantity that clouds and winds appear in their natural

proportion according to the season ; and it is because there

is now a great excess of the vaporous, now of the dry and

smoky exhalation, that some years are rainy and wet, others

5 windy and dry. Sometimes there is much drought or rain,

and it prevails over a great 4 and continuous stretch of

country. At other times it is local ; the surrounding

country often getting seasonable or even excessive rains

10 while there is drought in a certain part ; or, contrariwise, all
the surrounding country gets little or even no rain while
a certain part gets rain in abundance. The reason for
all this is that while the same affection is generally apt to
prevail over a considerable district because adjacent places
(unless there is something special to differentiate them)

15 stand in the same relation to the sun, yet on occasion the
dry evaporation will prevail in one part and the moist in
another, or conversely. Again the reason for this latter is

1 The connexion of thought would be easier if this passage were
transposed (as by Thurot), to follow irtjy^v a 33. If the traditional order
is kept this passage must be treated as a sort of parenthesis.

2 De Gen. et Corr. ii. 4.

3 And we should not call it a wind.

4 Read Kara 7roXX7&gt; wvexv in 1. 6 with E. If either 7roXX/&gt; or awe vn
must go it should be &lt;rwc X n as a gloss on TroXX^. Al. certainly read

7TO\\T)V.

BOOK II. 4 360*

that each evaporation goes over to that of the neighbouring
district : for instance, the dry evaporation circulates in its
own place while the moist migrates to the next district or 20
is even driven by winds to some distant place : or else the
moist evaporation remains and the dry moves away. Just
as in the case of the body when the stomach is dry the
lower belly is often in the contrary state, and when it is dry
the stomach is moist and cold, so it often happens that 25
the evaporations reciprocally take one another s place and
interchange.

Further, after rain wind generally rises in those places
where the rain fell, 1 and when rain has come on the wind
ceases. These are necessary effects of the principles we
have explained. After rain the earth is being dried by its 30
own heat and that from above and gives off the evaporation
which we saw to be the material cause of wind. Again,
suppose this secretion is present and wind prevails ; the
heat is continually being thrown off, rising to the upper
region, and so the wind ceases ; then the fall in temperature 35
makes vapour form and condense into water. 2 Water also 36l a
forms and cools the dry evaporation when the clouds are
driven together and the cold concentrated in them. These
are the causes that make wind cease on the advent of rain,
and rain fall on the cessation of wind.

3 The cause of the predominance of winds 4 from the 5
north and from the south is the same. (Most winds, as
a matter of fact, are north winds or south winds. 5 ) These
are the only regions which the sun does not visit : it
approaches them and recedes from them, but its course is
always over the west and the east. Hence clouds collect on
either side, and when the sun approaches it provokes the 10

1 Read ytviaOai in 1. 28 with JFHN.

8 Cp. 346 b 26. Thurot would read i/e ^or for vSap in 1. 35. Then
the next sentence would not give an alternative mode of the formation
of water but complete the account given in this. Against this is the
fact that in the account given in 346 b 20 there is no mention of the
driving together of clouds or of avrnrtpitTTao-is.

3 The doctrine of the south wind here is irreconcilable with that in
c. 5 , 362 a 3 1 . Berger, Gesch. der wissensch. Erdk. d. Griechen, 280, n. 2.

4 Read OTTO re T^S in 1. 5 with JFHN Al.
6 Cp. 3 63 a 3, 364* s-

3 6i a METEOROLOGICA

moist evaporation, and when it recedes to the opposite side
there are storms and rain. So summer and winter are due
to the sun s motion to and from the solstices, and water
ascends and falls again for the same reason. 1 Now since

15 most rain falls in those regions towards which and from
which the sun turns and these are the north and the south,
and since most evaporation must take place where there is
the greatest rainfall, just as green wood gives most smoke,

20 and since this evaporation is wind, it is natural that the
most and most important winds should come from these
quarters. (The winds from the north are called Boreae,
those from the south Noti. 2 )

The course of winds is oblique : for though the evapora
tion rises straight up from the earth, they blow round it
because all the surrounding air follows the motion of the

25 heavens. 3 Hence the question might be asked whether
winds originate from above or from below. The motion
comes from above : before 4 we feel the wind blowing the
air betrays its presence if there are clouds or a mist, for
their motion shows that the wind has begun to blow before
it has actually reached us ; and this implies that the source

30 of winds is above. But since wind is defined as * a quantity
of dry evaporation from the earth moving round the earth ,
it is clear that while the origin of the motion is from
above, the matter and the generation of wind come from
below. The oblique movement of the rising evaporation is
caused from above : for the motion of the heavens deter
mines the processes that are at a distance from the earth,

35 and the motion from below 5 is vertical and every cause is
more active where it is nearest to the effect 6 ; but in its
generation and origin wind plainly derives from the earth.

1 c p . ,346*35.

2 This sentence informs us of what was assumed to be known in a 6
above, and is singularly pointless even for a gloss.

3 But cp. 34o b 33.

4 Read comma after av&lt;*6ev (1. 27), no stop after nvtiv, omit 8 (J corr.
Al. Bag.), no stop after eVt S^Xos , av for *ai/, KIVOV^VI] for Kivovp.fvt)v
(J corr. and perhaps Al.).

5 There is nothing to answer /*/ in 1. 35. There should be a colon
at least after fyyvs.

6 Therefore the* circular motion of winds cannot be attributed to the
earth or it would begin at its surface and not at a height.

BOOK II. 4 36i a

The facts bear out the view that winds are formed by the 36i b
gradual union of many evaporations just as rivers derive
their sources from the water that oozes from the earth.
Every wind is weakest in the spot from which it blows l ; as
they proceed and leave their source at a distance they
gather strength. Thus the winter in the north is windless 5
and calm : that is, in the north itself ; but the breeze that
blows from there so gently as to escape observation becomes
a great wind as it passes on.

We have explained the nature and origin of wind, the
occurrence of drought and rains, the reason why rain stops 10
wind and wind rises after rain, the prevalence of north
and south winds and also why wind moves in the way
it does. 2

5 The sun both checks the formation of winds and stimu
lates it. When the evaporation is small in amount and 15
faint the sun wastes it and 3 dissipates by its greater heat the
lesser heat contained in the evaporation. It also dries up
the earth, the source of the evaporation, before the latter has
appeared in bulk : just as, when you throw a little fuel into
a great fire, it is often burnt up before giving off any smoke.
In these ways the sun checks winds and prevents them 20
from rising at all : it checks them by wasting the evapora
tion, and prevents their rising by drying up the earth
quickly. Hence calm is very apt to prevail about the rising
of Orion 4 and lasts until the coming of the Etesiac and
their forerunners .

Calm is due to two causes. Either cold quenches the 25
evaporation, for instance a sharp frost : or excessive heat
wastes it. In the intermediate periods, too, 5 the causes are
generally either that the evaporation has not had time to
develop or that it has passed away and there is none as
yet to replace it.

1 But cp. 364 5.

2 i. e. obliquely, round the earth.

3 Transpose *ai to follow napaiva (11. 16, 17). So perhaps Ol.
* The morning rising, about July 13.

5 Delete comma after &pms (1. 28).

3 6i b METEOROLOGICA

3 o Both the setting l and the rising 2 of Orion are considered
to be treacherous and stormy, because they take place at
a change of season (namely of summer or winter; and
because the size of the constellation makes its rise last over
many days 3 ) and a state of change is always indefinite and
therefore liable to disturbance.

35 The Etesiae blow after the. summer solstice and the rising

362* of the dog-star 4 : not at the time when the sun is closest nor

when it is distant ; and they blow by day and cease at

night. The reason is that when the sun is near it dries up

the earth before evaporation has taken place, but when it

has receded a little its heat and the evaporation are present

5 in the right proportion ; so the ice melts and the earth, dried

by its own heat and that of the sun, smokes and vapours.

They abate at night because the cold of the nights checks

the melting of the ice. What is frozen gives off no evapora-

10 tion, nor does that which contains no dryness at all : it is
only where something dry contains moisture that it gives
off evaporation under the influence of heat.

The question is sometimes asked : why do the north
winds which we call the Etesiae blow continuously after the
summer solstice, when there are no corresponding south
winds after the winter solstice ? The facts are reasonable
enough : for the so-called white south winds do blow at
the corresponding season, though they are not equally con-

15 tinuous and so escape observation and give rise to this
inquiry. The reason for this is that the north wind blows
from the arctic regions which are full of water and snow.

1 The morning setting, about mid-November.

2 The morning rising. There is no contradiction between this and
1. 23 above. Both statements are vague and each may be referred to
a different time, especially as in a constellation like Orion the date may
vary according to the star chosen for observation. The time referred
to in 1. 23 must be earlier than that indicated here. For the latter cp.
Polyb. i. 37.

3 This is suspicious. The times meant are the change from early
summer to late summer (ozrcopa) and from late summer to winter (cp.
Theoph. De Lap. ix. 55) ; Eudoxus supposed ozrcopa to begin with
the rise of Sirius (about the end of July). But this is expressed very
unsymmetrically in Qepovs rj ^ei/itoi/oy. -yiVerm too suggests a gloss ; if
the clause is kept we must read yiV&lt;r#&lt;u or insert dion before dia TO
(Ideler s conjecture).

4 About 28 July.

BOOK II. 5 362*

The sun thaws them and so the Etesiae blow : after rather
than at the summer solstice. (For the greatest heat is 20
developed not when the sun is nearest to the north, but
when its heat has been felt for a considerable period and it
has not yet receded far. The bird winds blow in the
same way after the winter solstice. They, too, are weak
Etesiae, but they blow less and later than the Etesiae.
They begin to blow only on the seventieth day because the 25
sun is distant and therefore weaker. They do not blow so
continuously because only things on the surface of the earth
and offering little resistance evaporate then, the thoroughly
frozen parts requiring greater heat to melt them. So they
blow intermittently till the true Etesiae come on again at
the summer solstice : for from that time onwards the wind 30
tends to blow continuously.) But the south wind blows
from the tropic of Cancer and not from the antarctic region. 1
There are two inhabitable sections of the earth : one near
our upper, or northern 2 pole, the other near the other or
southern pole ; and their shape is like that of a tambourine. 35
If you draw lines from the centre of the earth they cut out 362 b
a drum-shaped figure. The lines form two cones ; the base
of the one is the tropic, of the other the ever visible circle, 3
their vertex is at the centre of the earth. Two other cones
towards the south pole give corresponding segments of the
earth. These sections alone are habitable. Beyond the 5
tropics no one can live : for there the shade would not fall 4

1 And therefore we cannot expect any south winds to correspond to the
trade winds.

2 Contrast De Caelo 285 b 14.

3 i.e. that of the circumpolar stars. This is relative to latitude and
so does not serve the purpose of delimiting zones at all well ; though
no doubt Aristotle meant the ever visible circles of a given place, e.g.
Athens. Poseidonius criticizes Aristotle accordingly, cp. Strabo ii. 95,
Berger Geschichte, p. 306, n. I. It would be more consonant with the
principles on which Aristotle determined the torrid zone if he meant
here the arctic circle = that determined by a longest day of 24 hours,
and Ideler supposes that this is the meaning, and the facts about
the southern hemisphere support this. For Aristotle cannot have
thought that the base of the corresponding cone there was the !
d&lt;j)avr)s Ku/cXoy of any place in his own hemisphere. If this view is
correct the phrase 8ia iruvrbs (jxivcpus is singularly unfortunate. Cp.
363 b 32, and Berger, Eratosthenes, 74, n. 4.

4 The sense required is always fall ; and Ideler would insert cm
after &lt;&gt;VK in 1. 6. But Aristotle may have written carelessly.

362 b METEOROLOGICA

to the north, whereas the earth is known to be uninhabitable
before the sun is in the zenith or the shade is thrown to the
south : and the regions below the Bear l are uninhabitable
because of the cold.

I0 [The Crown, too, moves over this region : for it is in the
zenith when it is on our meridian]. 2

So we see that the way in which they now describe the
geography of the earth is ridiculous. They depict the
inhabited earth as round, but both ascertained facts and
general considerations show this to be impossible. If we
reflect we see that the inhabited region is limited in

15 breadth, while the climate admits of its extending all round
the earth. For we meet with no excessive heat or cold in
the direction of its length but only in that of its breadth ; so
that there is nothing to prevent our travelling round the
earth unless the extent of the sea presents an obstacle any
where. The records of journeys by sea and land bear this

20 out. They make the length far greater than the breadth.
If we compute these voyages and journeys the distance from
the Pillars of Heracles to India exceeds that from Aethiopia
to Maeotis and the northernmost Scythians by a ratio
of more than 5 to 3, as far as such matters admit of

25 accurate statement. Yet 3 we know the whole breadth 4 of
the region we dwell in up to the uninhabited parts : in one

1 i.e. where the Bear is in the zenith when it is on the meridian.

2 The Crown is in the zenith on the meridian of Athens, and the Bear
marks the limit of the circumpolar stars at Athens. Therefore at
a place where the Bear is in the zenith the Crown will be circumpolar.
* This region then is the place where the Bear is in the zenith.

This is taken to be Aristotle s meaning here by Mullenhoff, Deut
sche Alter tumskundC) i, p. 235 n. : cp. Berger, Geschichte, p. 305.

Al. and Ol. take the statement to be a proof that we live in the northern
temperate zone. * The Crown is obviously between the circle of the
Bear and the summer tropic; it is in the zenith on our meridian,
therefore we are in the zone between the Bear and the summer tropic.
Then this region = Greece.

Both explanations fail to give any point to the remark, which must
be a learned interpolation.

3 The connexion of thought is : our inhabitable zone is not round :
the ascertained width is to the ascertained length as 3 : 5 ; and the
excess of length over breadth is really greater than that since the
3 represents the whole breadth, the 5 not all the length .

4 Read nXdros in 1. 25 with the MSS.

BOOK II. 5 362 1

direction no one lives because of the cold, in the other
because of the heat.

But it is the sea 1 which divides as it seems the parts
beyond India from those beyond the Pillars of Heracles 2
and prevents the earth from being inhabited all round.

Now since there must be a region bearing the same rela- 30
tion to the southern pole as the place we live in bears to
our pole, it will clearly correspond in the ordering of its
winds as well as in other things. So just as we have
a north wind here, they must have a corresponding wind
from the antarctic/ 5 This wind cannot reach us since our own 35
north wind is like a land breeze 4 and does not even reach 5
the limits of the region we live in. G The prevalence of
north winds 7 here is due to our lying near the north. Yet
even here they give out and fail to penetrate far : in the 5
southern sea beyond Libya east and west winds are always
blowing alternately, like north and south winds with us. 8
So it is clear that the south wind is not the wind that blows
from the south pole. It is neither that nor the wind from
the winter tropic. For symmetry would require another 10
wind blowing from the summer tropic, which there is not,
since we know that only one wind blows from that quarter.
So the south wind clearly blows from the torrid region.
Now the sun is so near to that region that it has no water,
or snow 10 which might melt and cause Etesiac. But because 15
that place is far more extensive and open the south wind is
greater and stronger and warmer than the north and
penetrates farther to the north than the north wind does to
the south. 11

1 And not the climate.

2 Delete the comma before T&&amp;gt; (1. 29).

3 Omit u&gt;v in line 34 with E,Nj Al.

4 i.e. it has a short range.

6 Omit (o-Ttv in 1. I with E t and supply bu jKti from fivvaroi/ SirjKdv.

6 Omit tats . . . Trvfl (1. 2) with Ejl^ Nj Al. Whoever put it in missed
the point of dnoyciov.

7 Cp. 364* 5, 361* 4.

8 Punctuate: &?ot . . . TOTTCOV (11. 10-12) a parenthesis: colon after
HTroSoxm : colon after TOTTCOV (Bonitz). Read o vthos (JFHN) in 1. 8.

9 i. e. southwards.

10 Read x^vas (comp. Partsch, p. 586) in 1. 14 and rfgtv (EJ 2 F corr.
HN), cp. 362 a i8, 364" 8-10.

11 But cp. 364*5.

E 2

363

METEOROLOGICA

Hfilkrpentia*

The origin of these winds 1 and their relation to one
20 another has now been explained.

Let us now explain the position of the winds, 2 their oppo- 6
sitions, which can blow simultaneously with which, and
which cannot, their names and number, and any other of
their affections that have not been treated in the particular

25 questions . 3 What we say about their position must be
followed with the help of the figure. For clearness sake
we have drawn the circle of the horizon, which is round, but
it represents 4 the zone in which we live 5 ; for that can be

30 divided in the same
way. Let us also be
gin by laying down
that those things are
locally contrary which
arc locally most dis
tant from one another,
just as things speci
fically most remote
from one another are
specific contraries.
Now things that face
one another from opposite ends of a diameter are locally
most distant from one another.

Let A be the point where the sun sets at the equinox and
B, the point opposite, the place where it rises at the
b equinox. Let there be another diameter cutting this at
right angles, and let the point II on it be the north and its
diametrical opposite the south. Let Z be the rising of
the sun at the summer solstice and E its setting at the
5 summer solstice ; A its rising at the winter solstice, and F
its setting at the winter solstice. Draw a diameter from Z
to F and from A to E. Then since those things are locally
contrary which are most distant from one another in space,
and points diametrically opposite are most distant from one

1 i. e. north and south winds.

2 This chapter should be compared with the Vcntontm Situs et
Cognomina (vol. vi. of this translation).

* Not in the existing Problems, however.

4 Read avrov in 1. 28 with FjHN Al. 5 Which is not round.

BOOK II. 6 363

another, those winds must necessarily be contrary to one
another that blow from opposite ends of a diameter. 10

The names of the winds according to their position are
these. Zephyrus is the wind that blows from A, this being
the point where the sun sets at the equinox. Its contrary
is Apeliotes blowing from B the point where the sun rises
at the equinox. The wind blowing from II, the north, is
the true north wind, called Aparctias 1 : while Notus blow- 15
ing from is its contrary ; for this point is the south and
is contrary to II, being diametrically opposite to it.
Caecias blows from Z, where the sun rises at the summer
solstice. Its contrary is not the wind blowing from E but
Lips blowing from F For Lips blows from the point
where the sun sets at the winter solstice and is diametrically
opposite to Caecias : so it is its contrary. Kurus blows 20
from A, coming from the point where the sun rises at the
winter solstice. It borders on Notus, and so we often find
that people speak of Euro-Noti . Its contrary is not
Lips blowing from F but the wind that blows from E which
some call Argestes, some Olympias, and some Sciron. This 25
blows from the point where the sun sets at the summer
solstice, and is the only wind that is diametrically opposite
to Eurus. These are the winds that are diametrically
opposite to one another and their contraries.

There are other winds which have no contraries. The
wind they call Thrascias, which lies between Argestes and
Aparctias, blows from I ; and the wind called Mcses, which 30
lies between Caecias and Aparctias, from K. (The line IK
nearly coincides with the ever visible circle, 2 but not quite.)
These winds have no contraries. Mcses r: has not, or else
there would be a wind blowing from the point M which is
diametrically opposite. Thraskias corresponding to the
point 1 has not, for then there would be a wind blowing
from N, the point which is diametrically opposite. (But
perhaps a local wind which the inhabitants of those parts
call Phoenicias blows from that point.)

1 Omit rat after /So^ as- Sc in 1. 14 with KJFHN Al., cp. Capelle, A r ./Z?.
/. d. klass. Alt., 1905, p. 542, n. I.

2 Cp. 362 3. Mtillenhoff, 1). A., p. 257 ; Berger, GescJiichte, p. 304.

3 Omit ovTf OpaarKia in 1. 33 with JFjHjN Al.

364 a METEOROLOGICA

These are the most important and definite winds and
these their places.

5 There are more winds from the north than from the
south. The reason for this is that the region in which we
live lies nearer to the north. Also, much more water and
snow is pushed aside into this quarter because the other lies

TO under the sun and its course. When this thaws and soaks
into the earth and is exposed to the heat of the sun and the
earth it necessarily causes evaporation to rise in greater
quantities and over a greater space. 1

Of the winds we have described Aparctias is the north
wind in the strict sense. 2 Thrascias and Meses are north

5 winds too. (Caecias is half north and half east.) South
are that which blows from due south and Lips. East, the
wind from the rising of the sun at the equinox and Eurus.
Phoenicias is half south and half cast. West, the wind from
the true west and that called Argestes. More generally
these winds are classified as northerly or southerly. The

20 west winds are counted as northerly, for they blow from the
place of sunset and are therefore colder ; the east winds as
southerly, for they are warmer because they blow from the
place of sunrise. So the distinction of cold and hot or warm
is the basis for the division of the winds into northerly and
southerly. East winds are warmer than west winds because

25 the sun shines on the east longer, whereas it leaves the west
sooner and reaches it later. 3

Since this is the distribution of the winds it is clear that
contrary winds cannot blow simultaneously. They are
diametrically opposite to one another and one of the two
must be overpowered and cease. Winds that are not
diametrically opposite to one another may blow simultane-

3 o ously : for instance the winds from Z and from A. Hence
it sometimes happens that both of them, though different
winds and blowing from different quarters, are favourable to
sailors making for the same point.

1 C P . 363-3, 13.

2 Read pco-ys (1. 15) and omit KOIVUS apyeWov (1. 14) with EHN Ol.

3 A poor argument even for a flat-earth man ; and for Aristotle with
his round earth lamentable. Perhaps the sentence should be con
demned.

BOOK II. 6 364

Contrary winds commonly blow at opposite seasons.
Thus Caecias and in general the winds north of the summer
solstice blow about the time of the spring equinox, but
about the autumn equinox Lips ; and Zephyrus about the
summer solstice, but about the winter solstice Eurus.

Aparctias, Thrascias, and Argestes are the winds that
fall on others most and stop them. Their source is so close 5
to us that they are greater and stronger than other winds.
They bring fair weather most of all winds for the same
reason, for, blowing as they do, from close at hand, 1 they
overpower the other winds and stop them ; they also blow
away the clouds that are forming and leave a clear sky
unless they happen to be very cold. Then they do not 10
bring fair weather, but being colder than they are strong
they condense the clouds before driving them away.

Caecias does not bring fair weather because it returns
upon itself. Hence the saying : Bringing it on himself as
Caecias does clouds.

When they cease, winds are succeeded by their neigh
bours in the direction of the movement of the sun. For an 15
effect is most apt to be produced in the neighbourhood of
its cause, and the cause of winds moves with the sun.

Contrary winds have either the same or contrary effects.
Thus Lips and Caecias, sometimes called Hellespontias. are
both rainy. 2 Argestes and Eurus are dry : the latter being 20
dry at first and rainy afterwards. Meses and Aparctias are
coldest and bring most snow. Aparctias, Thrascias, and
Argestes bring hail. Notus, Zephyrus, and Eurus are hot.
Caecias covers the sky with heavy clouds, Lips with lighter
ones. Caecias does this because it returns upon itself and 25
combines the qualities of Boreas and Eurus. By being
cold it condenses and gathers the vaporous air, and because

1 But cp. 36i b 3.

8 Omit Ka\ tvpos, ov aTri)\ia)Ti]v in 1. 19. The clause is introduced by
olov and should contain illustrations of contrary winds and their effects.
So the words K&lt;U . . . aTrrjXiuTTjv have no place in it. They may have
intruded from a marginal note suggested by the next sentence (T(\( VTVV
8t v8aTu8r]s) or else *ai (vpos is due to the line below and ov OTTT/A. was
added, perhaps, if due east wind is meant, with the idea of avoiding
contradiction with the first part of the next sentence. Ol. seems to
omit the words. F t deletes ov

364 b METEOROLOGICA

it is easterly it carries with it and drives before it a great
quantity of such matter. Aparctias, Thrascias, and Argestes
bring fair weather for the reason we have explained before. 1

30 These winds and Meses are most commonly accompanied by
lightning. They are cold because they blow 2 from the
north, and lightning is due to cold, being ejected when the
clouds contract. 3 Some of these same winds bring hail
with them for the same reason ; namely, that they cause
a sudden condensation.

Hurricanes 4 are commonest in autumn, and next in
spring : Aparctias, Thrascias, and Argestes give rise to
them most. This is because hurricanes are generally formed
when some winds are blowing and others fall on them ; and
these are the winds which are most apt to fall on others
5 that are blowing ; the reason for which, too, we have
explained before. 5

The Etesiae veer round : they begin from the north, and
become for dwellers in the west Thrasciae, Argestae, and
Zephyrus (for Zephyrus belongs to the north 6 ). For
dwellers in the east they veer round as far as Apeliotes.

10 So much for the winds, their origin and nature and the
properties common to them all or peculiar to each.

We must go on to discuss earthquakes next, for their 7
cause is akin to our last subject.

15 The theories that have been put forward up to the present
date are three, and their authors three men, Anaxagoras of

1 b 6.

2 Read (K\6tv in 1. 31 after Thurot, with ed. Camotiana (Yen. 1551),
and one MS. of Al.

3 Cp. c. 9.

4 fKvffpias, a storm-wind bursting from a cloud, has been rendered
throughout as hurricane . Cp. iii. I, 37o b 3-17 ; though this passage
agrees more closely with the account of ecnephiae in Theophr. De Sign.
Temp. ii. 36, 37 (cp. Gilbert, p. 559 sq.) than with iii. i.

6 Read 6 yap (ecpvpos apKTixus ecmv in 1. 8 with Ideler (E s reading
with t(pvpos and op/crtKoy transposed) : the Madrid MS. reads 6 yap
t(pvpos (inapKTias tartf, the Ambrosian MS. o -yap e(pvpos OT\V 6 arrnp-
KTICIS. Then omit the clause as an interpolation. Bekker s text makes
no sense, as emerges from Alexander s explanation of it. Ideler s con
jecture would be a reminiscence of 364* 20 introduced by a confused
mind as a gloss.

Omit dpxopevoi . . . TToppco, which seems to have come in from
Alexander s commentary (113. 27).

BOOK II. 7 365

Clazomenac, and before him Anaximenes of Miletus, and
later Democritus of Abdera.

Anaxagoras l says that the ether, which naturally moves
upwards, is caught in hollows below the earth and so shakes 20
it, for though the earth is really all of it equally porous, its
surface is clogged up by rain. 2 This implies that part of the
whole sphere 3 is above and part below : above being
the part on which we live, below the other.

This theory is perhaps too primitive to require refutation. 25
It is absurd to think of up and down otherwise than as
meaning that heavy bodies move to the earth from every
quarter, and light ones, such as fire, away from it ; especially
as we see that, as far as our knowledge of the earth goes, 7,0
the horizon always changes with a change in our position,
which proves that the earth is convex and spherical. It is
absurd, too, to maintain that the earth rests on the air
because of its size, and then to say that impact upwards
from below shakes it right through. Besides he gives no
account of the circumstances attendant on earthquakes : for
not every country or every season is subject to them. 35-

Democritus 4 says that the earth is full of water and that
when a quantity of rain-water is added to this an earthquake
is the result. The hollows in the earth being unable to ad
mit the excess of water it forces its way in and so causes an
earthquake. Or again, the earth as it dries draws the water
from the fuller to the emptier parts, and the inrush of the 5
water as it changes its place causes the earthquake.

Anaximenes 5 says that the earth breaks up when it grows
wet or dry, and earthquakes are due to the fall of these
masses as they break away. Hence earthquakes take place
in times of drought and again of heavy rain, since, as we 1
have explained, the earth grows dry in time of drought and
breaks up, whereas the rain makes it sodden and destroys
its cohesion.

But if this were the case the earth ought to be found to
be sinking in many places. Again, why do earthquakes

1 Cp. Diels, 46 A. i, 9 ; 42, 12 ; 89.

2 eWi . . . &lt;TOfji&lt;j)r)i&gt; (1. 22) is parenthetical.

3 For Anaxagoras it is not a sphere. 4 Diels, 55 A. 97, 98.
5 Diels, 3 A. 7, 8 ; 21 ; 2. 28 (Anaximander).

365 b METEOROLOGICA

frequently occur in places which are not excessively subject
15 to drought or rain, as they ought to be on the theory ? Be
sides, on this view, earthquakes ought always to be getting
fewer, and should come to an end entirely some day: the
notion of contraction by packing together implies this. So
20 if this is impossible the theory must be impossible too.

1 We have already shown 2 that wet and dry must both 8
give rise to an evaporation : earthquakes are a necessary
consequence of this fact. The earth is essentially dry, but

25 rain fills it with moisture. Then the sun and its own fire
warm it and give rise to a quantity of wind both outside
and inside it. This wind sometimes flows outwards in
a single body, sometimes inwards, and sometimes it is
divided. All these are necessary laws. Next we must find

30 out what body has the greatest motive force. This will
certainly be the body that naturally moves farthest and is
most violent. Now that which has the most rapid motion
is necessarily the most violent ; for its swiftness gives its
impact the greatest force. Again, the rarest body, that
which can most readily pass through every other body, is

35 that which naturally moves farthest. Wind satisfies these
366 a conditions in the highest degree 3 (fire only becomes flame

1 The word nvfip.it plays a large part in this chapter and is difficult
to render in a way that will make its relations to ar)p, the dry i&gt;a/%u aerir,
and (ii&gt;fp.ns clear. nvtvp-n generally is equivalent to dry avadvp-iaats ;
that is, all nixvfjia. is dry (ipudu^u rum, and all dry avaBvplaa-ts is nvfvpa.
But the word nvtv^n is used by preference when the dry &lt;\va6vp.ia&lt;Tis is
being regarded as the material cause of wind. Again, mxvpa is closely
related to nvf^os ; for all nvtp.os is dry avadvpiavis (and therefore
irvfiipa) in motion. We cannot quite say that all irvcvpa is "w^os ; for
7rvfvp.a often denotes the dry exhalation before it has assumed that
definite motion which constitutes it an fivepos. But a -nvt f /ij or
rrvfi p.aT&lt;i in the plural, or the Trixvpa of a definite one (as distinct
from 7n&gt;f G/za in general), are used as exact equivalents for an iivtuos or
&lt;*v(p.oi, or the i ii&gt;ep.os . afjp is properly quite distinct from the other
three: it is a combination of the dry and the moist exhalations wind
is not (irjp in motion. But twice in this chapter if the text is sound urjp
is used as an equivalent for nvfvpa (367* II and 20).

As we cannot fall back on spiritus for nixvp-a with the later trans
lators, the word wind has been used throughout this chapter both for
Trvevpa and for apc/io?, but the passages in which it stands for uvepos have
been noted. 2 34i b 6.

3 Omit TO nvvp.a KivrjTiKov in 1. 1 with E, and apparently Al. Remove
the comma after TOIOVTT) and read a comma instead of a full stop after
(1. 3)-

BOOK II. 8 366 a

and moves rapidly when wind accompanies it) : so that not
water nor earth is the cause of earthquakes but wind that
is, the inrush of the external evaporation into the earth.

Hence, since the evaporation generally follows in a con- 5
tinuous body in the direction in which it first started, and
either all of it flows inwards or all outwards, most earth
quakes and the greatest are accompanied by calm. It is
true that some take place when a wind is blowing, but this
presents no difficulty. We sometimes find several winds l
blowing simultaneously. If one of these enters the earth i
we get an 2 earthquake attended by wind. Only these
earthquakes are less severe because their source and cause
is divided.

Again, most earthquakes and the severest occur at night
or, if by day, about noon, that being generally the calmest
part of the day. For when the sun exerts its full power (as i
it does about noon) it shuts the evaporation into the earth.
Night, too, is calmer than day. The absence of the sun
makes the evaporation return into the earth like a sort of
ebb tide, corresponding to the outward 3 flow ; especially
towards dawn, for the winds, as a rule, begin to blow then, 20
arid if their source changes about like the Euripus and flows
inwards the quantity of wind in the earth is greater and
a more violent earthquake results.

The severest earthquakes take place where the sea is full 25
of currents or the earth spongy and cavernous : so they
occur near the Hellespont and in Achaea and Sicily, and
those parts of Euboea which correspond to our description
where the sea is supposed to flow in channels below the
earth. The hot springs, too, near Aedepsus 4 are due to
a cause of this kind. It is the confined character of these
places that makes them so liable to earthquakes. A great 30
and therefore violent wind is developed, which would
naturally blow away from the earth : but the onrush of the
sea in a great mass thrusts it back into the earth. The
countries that are spongy below the surface are exposed to 366 b
earthquakes because they have room for so much wind.

1 tivep.01. 2 Omit 6 with E Al. in 1. II.

3 Read eo&gt; with JFHN Al. in 1. 20. 4 In Euboea.

366 b METEOROLOGICA

For the same reason earthquakes usually take place in
spring and autumn and in times of wet and of drought be
cause these are the windiest seasons. Summer with its
5 heat and winter with its frost cause calm : winter is too
cold, summer too dry for winds to form. In time of drought
the air is full of wind ; drought is just the predominance of
the dry over the moist evaporation. Again, excessive rain

10 causes more of the evaporation to form in the earth. Then
this secretion is shut up in a narrow compass and forced into
a smaller space by the water that fills the cavities. Thiu;
a great wind l is compressed into a smaller space and so
gets the upper hand, and then breaks out and beats against
the earth and shakes it violently.

15 We must suppose the action of the wind in the earth to
be analogous to the tremors and throbbings caused in us by
the force of the wind contained in our bodies. Thus some
earthquakes are a sort of tremor, others a sort of throbbing.
Again, we must think of an earthquake as something like
the tremor that often runs through the body after passing

20 water as the wind returns inwards from without in one
volume. 2

The force wind can have may be gathered not only from
what happens in the air (where one might suppose that it
owed its power to produce such effects to its volume), but

25 also from what is observed in animal bodies. Tetanus and
spasms are motions of wind, and their force is such that the
united efforts of many men do not succeed in overcoming
the movements of the patients. We must suppose, then (to
compare great things with small), that what happens in the
earth is just like that. 3

30 Our theory has been verified by actual observation in
many places. It has been known to happen that an earth
quake has continued until the wind 4 that caused it burst
through the earth into the air and appeared visibly like

1 (ivffJLOS.

2 Read ynp ylvtrai for ylvtrai yap with JFj (cp. Thurot s Latin trans
lation) and begin the parenthesis at 8ta roO.

3 Read TGIOVTOV 8t] dfl in 1. 29 with JHN for TO avro 8(L Thurot s
tatin translation also read 6.

BOOK II. 8 36y a

a hurricane. 1 This happened lately near Heracleia in 367**
Pontus and some time past at the island Hiera, one of the
group called the Aeolian islands. Here a portion of the
earth swelled up and a lump like a mound rose with a noise :
finally it burst, and a great wind came out of it and threw up 5
live cinders and ashes which buried the neighbouring town
of Lipara and reached some of the towns in Italy. The
spot where this eruption occurred is still to be seen.

Indeed, this must be recognized as the cause of the fire
that is generated in the earth : the air 2 is first broken up in 10
small particles and then the wind is beaten about and
so catches fire.

A phenomenon in these islands affords further evidence
of the fact that winds move below the surface of the earth.
When a south wind 3 is going to blow there is a premonitory
indication : a sound is heard in the places from which the
eruptions issue. This is because the sea is being pushed on 15
from a distance and its advance thrusts back into the earth
the wind that was issuing from it. The reason why there
is a noise and no earthquake is that the underground spaces
are so extensive in proportion to the quantity of the air that
is being driven on 4 that the wind slips away into the void
beyond. 5

Again, our theory is supported by the facts that the sun 20
appears hazy and is darkened in the absence of clouds, and
that there is sometimes calm and sharp frost before earth
quakes at sunrise. The sun is necessarily obscured and
darkened when the evaporation which dissolves and rarefies
the air begins to withdraw into the earth. The calm, too,
and the cold towards sunrise and dawn follow from the 25
theory. The calm we have already explained. There
must as a rule be calm because the wind flows back into the
earth : again, it must be most marked before the more

1 Cp. 37o b 3-17.

2 acpos is being used very loosely (cp. 1. 20 below) ; this mechanical
breaking up can hardly stand for the dissolution of the true air into its
constituents.

4 df pos again used loosely for dvadvp.ia&lt;ns or -rrvfip-n, cp. 1. II above.

5 Read vnepxtrai (EHN^ in 1. 19.

3 67 a METEOROLOGICA

violent earthquakes, for when the wind is not part outside

30 the earth, part inside, but moves in a single body, its
strength must be greater. The cold comes because the
evaporation which is naturally and essentially hot enters
the earth. (Wind l is not recognized to be hot, because it
sets the air 2 in motion, and that is full of a quantity of cold
vapour. It is the same with the breath we blow from our
mouth : close by it is warm, as it is when we breathe out
through the mouth, but there is so little of it that it is
scarcely noticed, whereas at a distance it is cold for the same
reason as wind. 3 ) Well, when this evaporation disappears

5 into the earth the vaporous exhalation concentrates * and
causes cold in any place in which this disappearance
occurs.

A sign which sometimes precedes earthquakes can be ex
plained in the same way. Either by day or a little after
sunset, in fine weather, a little, light, long-drawn cloud is

10 seen, like a long very straight line. This is because the
wind 5 is leaving the air and dying down. Something
analogous to this happens on the sea-shore. When the sea
breaks in great waves the marks left on the sand are very

15 thick and crooked, but when the sea is calm they are slight
and straight (because the secretion is small)/ As the sea
is to the shore so the wind is to the cloudy air ; so, when the
wind drops, this very straight and thin cloud is left, a sort
of wave-mark in the air.

20 An earthquake sometimes coincides with an eclipse of the
moon for the same reason. When the earth is on the point
of being interposed, but the light and heat of the sun has
not quite vanished from the air but is dying away, the wind
which causes the earthquake before the eclipse, turns ofT in-

25 to the earth, and calm ensues. For there often are winds 7

ot foe pot. z Here arjp is used in its proper sense.

01 fivfp.oi.

Omit di 1 vyporrjra in 1. 5 presumably a gloss and a wrong one:
moisture is not for Aristotle a cause of concentration of the arpis.

Which would otherwise disturb it.

Omit 8iu TO piKpav Troifio-dm TTJV eKKpuriv, which looks like a misguided
gloss on yaXfjvrj. Vicomercato s conjecture eupvo-tv for e/ocpio-ii&gt; will
hardly express the breaking of waves on the shore ; for the word
C P- 35 ia 5-

BOOK II. 8 36y b

before eclipses : at nightfall if the eclipse is at midnight, and
at midnight if the eclipse is at dawn. They are caused by
the lessening of the warmth from the moon when its sphere
approaches the point at which l the eclipse is going to take
place. So the influence which restrained and quieted the 3 o
air weakens and the air moves again and a wind rises, and
does so later, the later the eclipse. 2

A severe earthquake does not stop at once or after
a single shock, but first the shocks go on, often for about
forty days ; after that, for one or even two years it gives
premonitory indications in the same place. The severity of 368*
the earthquake is determined by the quantity of wind and
the shape of the passages through which it flows. Where
it is beaten back and cannot easily find its way out the
shocks are most violent, and there it must remain in
a cramped space like water that cannot escape. Any 5
throbbing in the body does not cease suddenly or quickly,
but by degrees according as the affection passes off. So
here the agency which created the evaporation and gave it
an impulse to motion clearly does not at once exhaust the
whole of the material from which it forms the wind 3 which 10
we call an earthquake. So until the rest of this is exhausted
the shocks must continue, though more gently, and they
must go on until there is too little of the evaporation left to
have any perceptible effect on the earth at all.

Subterranean noises, too, arc due to the wind ; sometimes
they portend earthquakes but sometimes they have been 15
heard without any earthquake following. Just as the air
gives off various sounds when it is struck, so it does when it
strikes other things ; for striking involves being struck and
so the two cases are the same. The sound precedes the
shock because sound is thinner and passes through things 20
more readily than wind. But when the wind is too weak
by reason of thinness to cause an earthquake the absence of
a shock is due to its filtering through readily, though by
striking hard and hollow masses of different shapes it

1 Lit. at which, when the moon and its sphere have got there .

2 Lines 25-32 are almost verbally identical with Probl. 26. 18.
Read T^J fytairtpov (K\efy(a&gt;s tyiairfpov in 1. 31 with EJ.

368 a METEOROLOGICA

makes various noises, so that the earth sometimes seems to

35 bellow as the portent-mongers say.

Water has been known to burst out during an earthquake.
But that does not make water the cause of the earthquake.
The wind is the efficient cause whether l it drives the water
along the surface 2 or up from below : just as winds 3 are the

30 causes of waves and not waves of winds. 3 Else we might as
well say that earth was the cause ; for it is upset in an
earthquake, just like water (for effusion is a form of upset
ting). No, earth and water are material causes (being
patients, not agents) : the true cause is the wind.

The combination of a tidal wave with an earthquake is

35 due to the presence of contrary winds. It occurs when the
368 b vvind which is shaking the earth does not entirely succeed
in driving off the sea which another wind is bringing on, but
pushes it back and heaps it up in a great mass in one place.
Given this situation it follows that when this wind gives way
5 the whole body of the sea, driven on by the other wind, will
burst out and overwhelm the land. This is what happened
in Achaea. 4 There 5 a south wind was blowing, but outside 6
a north wind; then there was a calm and the wind entered 6
the earth, and then the tidal wave came on and simultaneously
there was an earthquake. This was the more violent as the
sea allowed no exit to the wind that had entered the earth,

10 but shut it in. So in their struggle with one another the
wind caused the earthquake, and the wave by its settling
down the inundation.

Earthquakes are local and often affect a small district only ;
whereas winds 7 are not local. Such phenomena are local

15 when the evaporations at a given place are joined by those
from the next and unite ; this, as we explained, is what
happens when there is drought or excessive rain locally.
Now earthquakes do come about in this way but winds 7 do
not. For earthquakes, rains, and droughts have their source

1 Read &gt;} for j} in 1. 27 with EFjHN corr. Al.

2 Cp. 1. 34 sqq. 3 ot tivepot.
* Cp. 343 b 2.

5 Transpose eo&gt; and eject (11. 6, 7). The map makes it clear that the
received text is impossible.

6 (IVf/JiOS. 7 tit fJLOl.

BOOK II. 8 368 b

and origin inside the earth, so that the sun is not equally
able to direct all the evaporations in one direction. But on 20
the evaporations in the air the sun has more influence
so that, when once they have been given an impulse by its
motion, which is determined by its various positions, they
flow in one direction. 1

When the wind is present in sufficient quantity there is
an earthquake. The shocks are horizontal like a tremor ; 2
except occasionally, in a few places, where they act vertically,
upwards from below, like a throbbing. It is the vertical 25
direction which makes this kind of earthquake so rare.
The motive force does not easily accumulate in great
quantity in the position required, since the surface of the
earth secretes far more of the evaporation than its depths.
Wherever an earthquake of this kind does occur a quantity
of stones comes to the surface of the earth (as when you
throw up things in a winnowing fan), as we see from Sipylus 30
and the Phlegraean plain and the district in Liguria, which
were devastated by this kind of earthquake.

Islands in the middle of the sea are less exposed to earth
quakes than those near land. First, the volume of the sea
cools the evaporations and overpowers them by its weight 35
and so crushes them. Then, currents and not shocks are 369*
produced in the sea by the action of the winds. Again, it
is so extensive that evaporations do not collect in it but
issue from it, 3 and these draw the evaporations from the
earth after them. 4 Islands near the continent really form
part of it : the intervening sea is not enough to make
any difference ; but those in the open sea can only be 5

1 The general point of this paragraph (s68 b 12-22) is clearly to con
trast the local nature of earthquakes with the wide range of winds.
But there is no doubt, as Thurot saw, that the text is corrupt ; though
the corruption must be old, since Alexander plainly read very much
the same thing as we do.

8ia TOITOV roi rponov, 1. 1 8, implies two variants, din TavTrjv TI]V nlrinv

and TOVTOV TOV npoTTov. One or other of these (presumably the latter)
should be read, arruo-ny, 1. 19, sc. TCIS avaQvpidfftis. In 1. 20 delete the
colon and 8 .

2 Omit \tiv in 1 24 with JFHN ; remove the comma after TOTTOVS-,
and omit *m after i/&lt;o with JFH Al.

3 It is difficult to see the point of this.

4 Therefore the sea cannot be shaken : and the islands cannot be
shaken without it.

645-21 \?

369 a METEOROLOGICA

shaken if the whole of the sea that surrounds them is
shaken too.

We have now explained earthquakes, their nature and
cause, and the most important of the circumstances attendant,
on their appearance.

10 Let us go on to explain lightning and thunder, and
further whirlwind, fire-wind, and thunderbolts : for the
cause of them all is the same.

As we have said, 1 there are two kinds of exhalation,
moist and dry, and the atmosphere contains them both

15 potentially. It, as we have said before,- condenses into
cloud, and the density of the clouds is highest at their upper
limit. (For 3 they must be denser and colder on the side
where the heat escapes to the upper region and leaves them.
This explains why hurricanes 4 and thunderbolts and all

30 analogous phenomena move downwards in spite of the fact
that everything hot has a natural tendency upwards. Just
as the pips that we squeeze between our fingers are heavy
but often jump upwards : so these things are necessarily
squeezed out away from the densest part of the cloud.)
Now the heat that escapes disperses to the upper region.

25 But if any of the dry exhalation is caught in the process as
the air cools, it is squeezed out as the clouds contract and
collides in its rapid course with the neighbouring r&gt; clouds,
and the sound of this collision is what we call thunder.

30 This collision is analogous, to compare small with great, to
the sound we hear in a flame which men call the laughter or
the threat of Hephaestus or of Hestia. This occurs when
the wood dries and cracks and the exhalation rushes on the

35 flame in a body. So in the clouds, the exhalation is pro-

369** jected G and its impact on dense clouds causes thunder: the

variety of the sound is due to the irregularity of the clouds

1 e.g. 3 4 i l) 6.

2 e. g. 341 h 36 sqq., 346" 23 sqq.

3 J . . . m&gt;&&amp;gt; (11. 17-24) is parenthetical; the apodosis begins 17 ntv
ovv, 1. 24. Read colons after &lt;rv&lt;rTa&lt;nv, 1. 19, and rorror, 1. 25 (Bonitz).

4 Cp. 37o b 3-i;.

8 Read rr pi f \ovcri in 1. 28.

6 Read 17 yiyvopcvr) for yiyrofjievi] 17 in 1. 35 with JFHN Al.

BOOK II. 9 369

and the hollows that intervene where their density is inter
rupted. This, then, is thunder, and this its cause.

It usually happens that the exhalation that is ejected is 5
inflamed and burns with a thin and faint fire : this is what
we call lightning, where we see as it were the exhalation
coloured in the act of its ejection. 1 It comes into existence
after the collision and the thunder, though we see it earlier
because sight is quicker than hearing. The rowing of
triremes illustrates this : the oars are going back again 10
before the sound of their striking the water reaches us.

However, there are some who maintain that there is
actually fire in the clouds. Empedocles 2 says that it con
sists of some of the sun s rays which arc intercepted :
Anaxagoras 3 that it is part of the upper ether (which he
calls fire) which has descended from above. Lightning, 15
then, is the gleam of this fire, and thunder the hissing noise
of its extinction in the cloud.

But this involves the view that lightning actually is prior
to thunder and does not merely appear to be so. Again,
this intercepting of the fire is impossible on either theory,
but especially when it is said to be drawn down from the 20
upper ether. Some reason ought to be given why that
which naturally ascends should descend, and why it should
not always do so, but only when it is cloudy. When the
sky is clear there is no lightning : to say that there is, is
altogether wanton.

The view that the heat of the sun s rays intercepted in the 25
clouds is the cause of these phenomena is equally unattrac
tive : this, too, is a most careless explanation. Thunder,
lightning, and the rest must have a separate and deter
minate cause assigned to them on which they ensue. But this 3
theory does nothing of the sort. It is like supposing that
water, snow, and hail existed all along and were produced
when the time came and not generated at all, as if the
atmosphere brought each to hand out of its stock from time
to time. They are concretions in the same way as thunder

1 Perhaps wa-nep should be omitted (there is no trace of it in Al.),
though it is difficult to account for its presence in the MSS.

2 Diels, 21 A. 63. 3 Diels, 46 A. I, 9 ; 42, 1 1 ; 84.

F 2

METEOROLOGICA

35 and lightning are discretions, so that if it is true of either
that they are not generated but pre-exist, the same must be
37o a true of the other. 1 Again, how can any distinction be made
about the intercepting between this case and that of inter
ception in denser substances such as water ? Water, too, is
heated by the sun and by fire : yet when it contracts again
and grows cold and freezes no such ejection as they describe
5 occurs, though it ought on their theory to take place on a pro
portionate scale. 2 Boiling is due to the exhalation generated
by fire: but it is impossible for it to exist in the water
beforehand ; and besides they call the noise hissing 1 , not
* boiling . :J But hissing is really boiling on a small scale 4 :
for when that which is brought into contact with moisture
and is in process of being extinguished gets the better of it,
then it boils and makes the noise in question.

10 Some Cleidemus r&gt; is one of them say that lightning is
nothing objective but merely an appearance. They com
pare it to what happens when you strike the sea with a rod
by night and the water is seen to shine. They say that
the moisture in the cloud is beaten about in the same way,
and that lightning is the appearance of brightness that

15 ensues.

This theory is due to ignorance of the theory of reflection,
which is the real cause of that phenomenon. The water
appears to shine when struck because our sight is reflected
from r&gt; it to some bright object : hence the phenomenon

20 occurs mainly by night : the appearance is not seen by day
because the daylight is too intense and obscures it.

These are the theories of others about thunder and
lightning : some maintaining that lightning is a reflection,
the others that lightning is fire shining through the cloud and

1 It would therefore have to be true of snow and hail, which it is
not, if it were true (as this theory implies) of lightning (therefore it is
not true of lightning).

2 Read colon for full stop after \eynva-tv (1. 5) : full stop after /i*ye-
6ovs : rr]v de ^fariv (EFj) TTOKI (Ej).

3 So they cannot support their view by appealing to the phenomenon
of boiling.

4 And therefore (although they speak of hissing and not boiling )
the point in the first part of the last sentence does hold against them.

6 Diels, 49. i.

6 Read drr avTov in 1. 1 8 with JFN Al.

BOOK II. 9 37 o 5

thunder its extinction, the fire not being generated in each
case but existing beforehand. We say that the same stuff 25
is wind on the earth, and earthquake under it, and in the
clouds thunder. The essential constituent of all these
phenomena is the same : namely, the dry exhalation. If it
flows in one direction it is wind, in another it causes earth
quakes ; in the clouds, when they are in a process of change l
.and contract and condense into water, it is ejected and causes 30
thunder and lightning and the other phenomena of the
same nature.

So much for thunder and lightning.

BOOK III

1 LET us explain the remaining operations of this secretion
in the same way as we have treated the rest. When this
exhalation is secreted 2 in small and scattered quantities and 5
frequently, and is transitory, and its constitution rare, it
gives rise to thunder and lightning. But if it is secreted in
a body and is denser, that is, less rare, we get a hurricane: 5
The fact that it issues in a body explains its violence : it is
due to the rapidity of the secretion. Now when this 10
secretion issues in a great and continuous current the result
corresponds to what we get when the opposite development
takes place and rain and a quantity of water are produced.
As far as the matter from which they are developed goes 4
both sets of phenomena are the same." As soon as
a stimulus to the development of either potentiality appears,
that of which there is the greater quantity present in the 15
cloud is at once secreted from it, and there results either
rain, or, if the other exhalation prevails, a hurricane.

Sometimes the exhalation in the cloud, when it is being

1 Read /i(T/3aXXouo-t with Thurol in 1. 30.

2 From the cloud.

! Cp. 36$ a i , 366 b 33 , 369** 19. 4 The cloud.

5 Read ravrd in 1. 13 with the Madrid MS.

3?o b METEOROLOGICA

secreted, collides with another 1 under circumstances like
those found when a wind is forced from an open into
a narrow space in a gateway or a road. It often happens

20 in such cases that the first part of the moving body is
deflected because of the resistance due either to the narrow
ness or to a contrary current, and so the wind forms a circle
and eddy. It is prevented from advancing in a straight
line : at the same time it is pushed on from behind ; so it is
compelled to move sideways in the direction of least resis-

25 tance. The same thing happens to the next part, and the
next, and so on, till the series becomes one, that is, till
a circle is formed : for if a figure is described by a single
motion that figure must itself be one. 2 This is how eddies
are generated on the earth, and the case is the same in the
clouds as far as the beginning of them goes. Only here
(as in the case of the hurricane which shakes off 3 the cloud

30 without cessation and becomes a continuous wind) the
cloud follows the exhalation unbroken, and the exhalation,
failing to break away from the cloud because of its density,
first moves in a circle for the reason given and then
descends, because clouds are always densest on the side
37l a where the heat escapes. 4 This phenomenon is called
a whirlwind when it is colourless ; and it is 6 a sort of
undigested hurricane. There is never a whirlwind when
the weather is northerly, nor a hurricane when there is
snow. The reason is that all these phenomena are

1 Sc. another exhalation in the cloud (Gilbert), and not another cloud
(Alex.).

2 Read cv for KVK\OV in 1. 27 with EHN Al.

3 Read TOV vtyovs in 1. 29 with H and cod. Par. suppl. 314; cp. Al.
ad loc. and p. 136. 7, and cp. 371* 10 sq. below.

The passage is very obscure. The translation assumes (following
Vicomercato in the main) that the chief point is the contrast of the
typhoon with the eddy generated on earth (and not as Gilbert thinks
of the typhoon with the ecnephias) the former descends, the latter
does not. Incidentally a point of similarity between ecnephias and
typhoon is alluded to, the continuity of each of them ; and, incidentally
to that, a point which differentiates typhoon from ecnephias, its shaking
off the cloud, which is taken up again 37i a 9- But all interpretations
are unsatisfactory.

4 Cp. 369 a 16.

6 Comma after uvepos (1. 2) ; delete commas after nxfruv and u&gt;v.

Cp. 37O b 8 (KVtQias tivf^os. So Al.

BOOK III. i 371*

wind 1 , and wind is a dry and warm evaporation. Now 5
frost and cold prevail over this principle and quench it
at its birth : that they do prevail is clear or there could be
no snow or northerly rain, since these occur when the cold
does prevail.

So the whirlwind originates in the failure of an incipient 10
hurricane to escape from its cloud : it is due to the resis
tance which generates the eddy, and it consists in the spiral
which descends to the earth 2 and drags with it the cloud
which it cannot shake off. It moves things by its wind in
the direction in which it is blowing in a straight line, and
whirls round by its circular motion and forcibly snatches up
whatever it meets.

When the cloud burns as it is drawn downwards, 15
that is, when the exhalation becomes rarer, it is called
a fire-wind, for its fire colours the neighbouring air and
inflames it.

When there is a great quantity of exhalation and it is
rare and is squeezed out in the cloud itself 3 we get a thunder
bolt. If the exhalation is exceedingly rare this rareness 20
prevents the thunderbolt from scorching and the poets call
it bright : if the rareness is less it does scorch and they
calllt smoky . The former moves rapidly 4 because of its
rareness, and because of its rapidity passes through an
object before setting fire to it or dwelling on it so as to
blacken it : the slower one does blacken the object, but
passes through it before it can actually burn it. 5 Further,

1 Read TrveO/za in 1. 4 with J Al. ; cp. 371*29, and 372 :l l8 Travra yap
axXacrif.

a Read eVt yijv in 1. 11 with E 2 JFA1. (Ol. eVl rf)v yfjv lemma and
paraphrase).

3 i. e. in contrast to KaTaanufjifvov in the account of the prester above.

4 Some complement to (pfpcrai (1. 22) such as Sia rdxovs must be
supplied (Thurot).

This division of Kfpavvoi is obscure, perhaps because Aristotle is
mainly concerned with their being, or being due to, Tri/ft /ia (371*29)
and less with a systematic classification of them. This may explain
the fact that the contrast in this sentence is not what we expect ;
and that the next sentence seems to contradict this. But it may
be that the next sentence is not intended as a continuation of the
division begun in this, but is an independent observation confirming
the pneumatic nature of thunderbolts, which Aristotle inserted without
noticing that it involved him in at least a verbal contradiction. Or it

3?i a METEOROLOGICA

25 resisting substances are affected, unresisting ones are not.
For instance, it has happened that the bronze of a shield
has been melted while the woodwork remained intact
because its texture was so loose that the exhalation filtered
through without affecting it. 1 So it has passed through
clothes, too, without burning them, 2 and has merely reduced
them to shreds.

Such evidence is enough by itself to show that the

30 exhalation 3 is at work in all these cases, but we sometimes
get direct ocular evidence as well, as in the case of the
conflagration of the temple at Ephesus 4 which we lately
witnessed. 5 There independent sheets of flame left the
main fire and were carried bodily in many directions. Now
that smoke is exhalation and that smoke burns is certain,
37i b and has been stated in another place before 6 ; but when the
flame moves bodily, then we have ocular proof that smoke
is exhalation. On this occasion what is seen in small fires
appeared on a much larger scale because of the quantity of
matter that was burning. The beams which were the source

5 of the exhalation split, and a quantity of it rushed in a body
from the place from which it issued forth and went up in
a blaze : so that the flame was actually seen moving through
the air away and falling on the houses. For 7 we must
recognize that exhalation accompanies and precedes thunder
bolts though it is colourless and so invisible. Hence, where

10 the thunderbolt is going to strike, the object moves before
it is struck, showing that the exhalation leads the way and
falls on the object first. Thunder, 8 too, splits things not by
its noise but because the exhalation that strikes the object
and that which makes the noise are ejected simultaneously.

may be supposed that our text is considerably corrupt and that some
thing essential has been lost.

1 Colon after dujBrjOtv in 1. 27 and no stop after 6ieX#oi&gt; (Thurot).

2 Read ^avatv (EHN Al.) in 1. 28.

3 Read nvtv^a in 1. 29 with J Al. ; cp. a 4.

4 The date is said to be 356 B.C. This passage need not neces
sarily be taken to imply that Aristotle was himself an eyewitness
of the event.

8 Read c6(u&gt;(iovfji(v in 1. 31 for o-wtfiatvc with EHN.

6 Cp. 34i b 2i, 388 a 2, De Gen. et Corr. 33^25.

7 i. e. this is natural, for ...

8 Omit /cat dffTpanai in 1. II with JFI^N Al. Ol,

BOOK III. i 37i b

This exhalation splits the thing it strikes but does not
scorch it at all.

We have now explained thunder and lightning and
hurricane, and further fire-winds, whirlwinds, and thunder- 15
bolts, and shown that they are all of them forms of the
same thing and wherein they all l differ.

2 Let us now explain the nature and cause of halo, rainbow,
mock suns, and rods, since the same account applies to 20
them all.

We must first describe the phenomena and the circum
stances in which each of them occurs. The halo often
appears as a complete circle : it is seen round the sun and
the moon and bright stars, by night as well as by day, and
at midday or in the afternoon, more rarely about sunrise or 25
sunset.

The rainbow never forms a full circle, nor any segment
greater than a semicircle. At sunset and sunrise the circle
is smallest and the segment largest : as the sun rises higher
the circle is larger and the segment smaller. 2 After the 30
autumn :i equinox in the shorter days it is seen at every
hour of the day, in the summer not about midday. There
are never more than two rainbows at one time. 4 Each of
them is three-coloured ; the colours are the same in both 372*
and their number is the same, but in the outer rainbow
they are fainter and their position is reversed. In the inner
rainbow the first and largest band is red ; in the outer
rainbow the band that is nearest to this one and smallest
is of the same colour : the other bands correspond on the
same principle. These are almost the only colours which 5
painters cannot manufacture : for there are colours which
they create by mixing, but no mixing will give red, green,
or purple. These are the colours of the rainbow, though
between the red and the green an orange colour is often
seen.

1 Read TTUVTUV avrwv in 1. 17 with EJF.

2 Really the size of the circle is always the same.

3 Read neronoipivTjv for uTTtopivijv in 1. 30 with F Al. (fj.(T(&rropii&gt;Tjv J).

4 Secondary rainbows have under experimental conditions been
observed to the number of eighteen (Daniell, Text-book of the
Principles of Physics, p. 479).

372 a METEOROLOGICA

10 Mock suns and rods are always seen by the side of the
sun, 1 not above or below it nor in the opposite quarter of
the sky. 2 They are not seen at night but always in the
neighbourhood of the sun, either as it is rising or setting
but more commonly towards sunset. They have scarcely
ever appeared when the sun was on the meridian, though

15 this once happened in Bosporus where two mock suns rose
with the sun and followed it all through the day till
sunset.

These are the facts about each of these phenomena : the
cause of them all is the same, for they are all reflections.
But they are different varieties, and are distinguished by

20 the surface from which and the way in which the reflection
to the sun or some other bright object takes place.

The rainbow is seen by day, and it was formerly thought
that it never appeared by night as a moon rainbow. This
opinion was due to the rarity of the occurrence : it was not
observed, for though it does happen it does so rarely. The
reason is that the colours are not so easy to see in the dark

25 and that many other conditions must coincide, and all that
in a single day in the month. For if there is to be one it
must be at full moon, 3 and then as the moon is either rising
or setting. So we have only met with two instances of
a moon rainbow in more than fifty years.

We must accept from the theory of optics 4 the fact that

30 sight is reflected from air and any object with a smooth
surface just as it is from water ; also that in some mirrors
the forms of things are reflected, in others only their
372 b colours. Of the latter kind are those mirrors which are
so small as to be indivisible for sense. It is impossible
that the figure of a thing should be reflected in them, for if
it is.the mirror will be sensibly divisible since divisibility is
involved in the notion of figure. But since something must

5 be reflected in them and figure cannot be, it remains that
colour alone should be reflected. 5 The colour of a bright

1 i. e. east or west of it. 2 Cp. 377** 27 sqq.

3 Or nearly so. Scott, Elementary Meteorology, 202.

4 Alexander observes that the language in which Aristotle speaks of
vision in this book is not that of his theory in the De Anima.

5 Cp.373 a 19-23, b 24.

BOOK III. 2 37 2 b

object sometimes appears bright in the reflection, but it
sometimes, either owing to the admixture of the colour of
the mirror or to weakness of sight, gives rise to the appear
ance of another colour.

However, we must accept the account we have given of
these things in the theory of sensation, 1 and take some 10
things for granted while we explain others.

3 Let us begin by explaining the shape of the halo ; why
it is a circle and why it appears round the sun or the moon
or one of the other stars : the explanation being in all these
cases the same.

Sight is reflected in this way when air and vapour are 15
condensed into a cloud and the condensed matter is uniform
and consists of small parts. Hence in itself it is a sign of
rain, but if it fades away, of fine weather, if it is broken up,
of wind. For if it does not fade away and is not broken 20
up but is allowed to attain its normal state, it is naturally
a sign of rain since it shows that a process of condensation
is proceeding which must, when it is carried to an end,
result in rain. For the same reason these haloes are the
darkest. It is a sign of wind when it is broken up because 25
its breaking up is due to a wind which exists there but has
not reached us. This view finds support in the fact that
the wind blows from the quarter in which the main division
appears in the halo. Its fading away is a sign of fine
weather because if the air is not yet 2 in a state to get the 30
better of the heat it contains and proceed to condense into
water, this shows that the moist vapour has not yet separated
from the dry and firelike exhalation : and this is the cause
of fine weather.

So much for the atmospheric conditions under which the
reflection takes place. The reflection is from the mist that 373*
forms round the sun or the moon, and that is why the halo
is not seen opposite the sun like the rainbow. Since the
reflection takes place in the same way from every point
the result is necessarily a circle or a segment of a circle :

1 Perhaps De Sensu, c. 3.

2 Read 7ro&gt; in 1. 30.

373 a

METEOROLOGICA

for if the lines start from the same point and end
at the same point and are equal, 1 the points where they

5 form an angle will always lie on a circle.

Let AFB and AZB and AAB be lines each of which goes
from the point A to the point B and forms an angle. Let
the lines AF, AZ, AA be equal and those at B, FB, ZB, AB
equal too. Draw the line AEB. Then the triangles are

10 equal ; for their base AEB is equal.
Draw perpendiculars to AEB from the
angles; FE from F, ZE from Z, AE
from A. Then these perpendiculars are
equal, being in equal triangles. 2 And
they are all in one plane, being all at

15 right angles to AEB and meeting at a
single point E. So if you draw the line 3
it will be a circle and E its centre. Now
B is 4 the sun, A the eye, and the circum
ference passing through the points FZA
the cloud from which the line of sight
is reflected to the sun.

The mirrors must be thought of as contiguous : each of

20 them is too small to be visible, but their contiguity makes
the whole made up of them all to seem one. The bright
band is the sun, which is seen as a circle, appearing
successively in each of the mirrors as a point indivisible to
sense. 5 The band of cloud next to it is black, its colour

2 5 being intensified by contrast with the brightness of the
halo. The halo is formed rather near 7 the earth because

1 This begs the question and stultifies the succeeding demonstration,
cp. Poske, Zschr. f. Math. u. Phys., 1883, p. 134544.; Gilbert,
p. 602 sqq.

2 Colon after rpiyuvots (1. 14).

3 Through TZA.

4 Read TTI (EJFHNj) for eVrw in 1. 16.

: Cp. 372* 32 sqq. and note ; 373 b 24 sqq.

5 Transposing npbs fie rfj yfj . . . (pavfpov (11. 23-5) after irapa 8e
TOVTO . . . p.(\avTpa with Vicomercato and others. Better, perhaps,
put these clauses after dtpos (1. 29) : yiyvovrai (at Xw) will then be the
verb to npbs df rfjy^ for which it is difficult to supply a suitable verb in
the place in which Vicomercato s transposition leaves it.

7 Or nearer, i.e., than the rainbow, cp. 374* I.

BOOK III. 3 373 a

that is calmer l : for where there is wind it is clear that no
halo can maintain its position. 2

Haloes are commoner round the moon because the greater
heat of the sun dissolves the condensations of the air more
rapidly.

Haloes are formed round stars for the same reasons, but 30
they are not prognostic in the same way because the
condensation they imply is so insignificant as to be
barren.

4 We have already stated that the rainbow is a reflection :
we have now to explain what sort of reflection it is. to
describe its various concomitants, and to assign their causes.

Sight is reflected from all smooth surfaces, such as are 35
air and water among others. Air must be condensed if it 373 b
is to act as a mirror, though it often gives a reflection even
uncondensed when the sight is weak. Such was the case of
a man whose sight was faint and indistinct. He always 5
saw an image in front of him and facing him as he walked.
This was because his sight was reflected back to him. Its
morbid condition made it so weak and delicate that the air
close by acted as a mirror, just as distant and condensed air
normally does, and his sight could not push it back. 3 So 4 10
promontories in the sea loom 5 when there is a south-east
wind, and everything seems bigger, and in a mist, too,

1 Cp. 34O b 33. It is difficult to be certain what part of the atmosphere
Aristotle has in mind here : his account of the various strata is obscure.
It must be inside the tops of the highest mountains, for above them
there are no clouds ; and outside the innermost stratum which is
dominated by the rays of the sun reflected from the earth s surface,
and where there are also no clouds. Vicomercato thinks that we
must suppose a specially windy stratum just below the tops of the
highest mountains ; our calm stratum would be between that and
the innermost stratum. But it may be (in spite of his objections) that
the whole stratum between the innermost and the tops of the highest
mountains is meant, and that it is contrasted with the higher strata
which are involved in perpetual flow by the jci&gt;K\o&lt;/&gt;opta. In this case
nvev^n would be used rather loosely of that flow.

* (But they do).

3 Read a dash after dnwBdv (1. 9).

4 The connexion seems to be that the state of the air conditions
what is seen. Ideler thinks there is a lacuna before this sentence, or
else that the sentence itself is spurious.

5 * Distant objects are said to loom when they appear abnormally
elevated above their true positions. Scott, El. Mef., p. 207.

373 b METEOROLOGICA

things seem bigger : so, too, the sun and the stars seem
bigger when rising and setting than on the meridian. But
things are best reflected from water, and even in process of

15 formation it is a better mirror than air, for each of the
particles, the union of which constitutes a raindrop, is
necessarily a better mirror than mist. Now it is obvious
and has already been stated l that a mirror of this kind
renders the colour of an object only, but not its shape.

30 Hence it follows that when it is on the point of raining and
the air in the clouds is in process of forming into raindrops
but the rain is not yet actually there, if the sun is opposite, or
any other object bright enough to make the cloud a mirror
and cause the sight to be reflected to the object then 2 th-2
reflection must render the colour of the object without its
shape. Since each of the mirrors is so small as to be

35 invisible and what we see is the continuous magnitude made
up of them all. the reflection necessarily gives us a continu
ous magnitude made up of one colour ; each of the mirrors
contributing the same colour to the whole. 3 We may
deduce that since these conditions are realizable there wil!

30 be an appearance due to reflection whenever the sun and the
cloud are related in the way described and we are between
them. But these are just the conditions under which the
rainbow appears. So it is clear that the rainbow is
a reflection of sight to the sun.

So the rainbow always appears opposite the sun whereas

35 the halo is round it. They are both reflections, but the

374 a rainbow is distinguished by the variety of its colours. The

reflection in the one case is from water which is dark and

from a distance ; in the other from air which is nearer and

lighter in colour. White light through a dark medium or

on a dark surface (it makes no difference) looks red 4 . We

5 know how red the flame of green wood is : this is because

so much smoke is mixed with the bright white firelight : so,

too, the sun appears red through smoke and mist. That is

why in the rainbow reflection the outer circumference is

1 372 a 34-

2 Omit TC (1. 24) with EJFHN. 3 Cp. a 19, 374*34.
4 De Sensu, 440* 10 ; De Col. 792* 9.

BOOK III. 4 374 a

red (the reflection being from small particles of water 1 ),but
not in the case of the halo. The other colours shall be ex- 10
plained later. Again, a condensation of this kind cannot
persist in the neighbourhood of the sun : it must either turn
to rain or be dissolved, but opposite to the sun there is an
interval during which the water is formed. If there were
not this distinction haloes would be coloured like the rain- 15
bow. Actually no complete or circular halo presents this
colour, only small and fragmentary appearances called
rods . 2 But if a haze due to water or any other dark
substance formed there we should have had, as we main
tain 3 , a complete rainbow like that which we do find round
lamps. A rainbow appears round these in winter, generally 20
with southerly winds. Persons whose eyes are moist sec it
most clearly because their sight is weak and easily reflected.
It is due to the moistness of the air and the soot which the
flame gives off and which mixes with the air and makes it 25
a mirror, 4 and to the blackness which that mirror derives
from the smoky nature of the soot. The light of the lamp
appears as a circle which is not white but purple. It shows
the colours of the rainbow ; but because the sight that is
reflected is too weak 5 and the mirror too dark, red is
absent. The rainbow that is seen when oars are raised out 30
of the sea involves the same relative positions as that in
the sky, 6 but its colour is more like that round the lamps,
being purple rather than red. The reflection is from very
small particles continuous with one another, and in this case
the particles are fully formed water. We get a rainbow, 35
too, if a man sprinkles fine drops in a room turned to the 374 b
sun so that the sun is shining in part of the room and
throwing a shadow in the rest. Then if one man sprinkles
in the room, another, standing outside, sees a rainbow where
the sun s rays cease and make the shadow. Its nature and 5

1 And water being dark.

2 Wind galls , weather galls , wind dogs .

3 Cf. a I above. Read X&lt;&gt;&gt;/xi/ in 1. 19 with the MSS.

4 Read Tore yap yiverai evoTrrpov (1. 25) as a parenthesis with
Thurot.

5 It is bound to be weak by lamplight.

6 i. e. the observer is between the sun and the bow.

374 METEOROLOGICA

colour is like that from the oars and its cause is the same,
for the sprinkling hand corresponds to the oar.

That the colours of the rainbow are those we described l
and how the other colours come to appear in it will be clear
from the following considerations. We must recognize, as

10 we have said, 2 and lay down : first, that white colour on
a black surface or seen through a black medium gives red ;
second, that sight when strained to a distance :{ becomes
weaker and less ; third, that black is in a sort the negation
of sight : an object is black because sight fails ; so every
thing at a distance looks blacker, because sight does not

15 reach it. The theory of these matters belongs to the
account of the senses, which are the proper subjects of such
an inquiry ; we need only state about them what is neces
sary for us. At all events, that 4 is the reason why distant
objects and objects seen in a mirror look darker and

20 smaller and smoother, and why the reflection of clouds in
water is darker than the clouds themselves. This latter is
clearly the case: the reflection diminishes the sight that
reaches them. It makes no difference whether the change
is in the object seen or in the sight, 5 the result being in
either case the same. The following fact further is worth

25 noticing. When there is a cloud near the sun and we look
at it it does not look coloured at all but white, but when
we look at the same cloud in water it shows a trace of
rainbow colouring. Clearly, then, when sight is reflected it
is weakened and, as it makes dark look darker, so it makes

30 white look less white, changing it and bringing it nearer to
black. When the sight is relatively strong the change is to
red ; the next stage is green, and a further degree of weak
ness gives violet. No further change is visible, but three com
pletes the series of colours (as we find three does in most
other things ), and the change into the rest is imperceptible

1 372*7, cp. 375 a 28 below.

2 374 a 3 %

3 Read anorfivo^rri in 1. II with JF Al. Ol.

4 Because sight fails.

5 i. e. whether the object is actually farther from the eye in space or
whether (owing to reflection) the sight travels to it by a longer route.

6 Cp. De Cae/0, 268* 9.

BOOK III. 4 374 1

to sense. 1 Hence also the rainbow appears with three
colours ; this is true of each of the two, but in a contrary way. 375*
The outer band of the primary rainbow is red : for the largest
band reflects most J sight to the sun, and the outer band is
largest. The middle band and the third go on the same
principle. So if the principles we laid down 3 about the
appearance of colours are true the rainbow necessarily has 5
three colours, and these three and no others. The appear
ance of yellow is due to contrast, for the red is whitened by
its juxtaposition with green. We can see this from the fact
that the rainbow is purest when the cloud is blackest ; and 10
then the red shows most yellow. (Yellow in the rainbow
comes between red and green.) So the whole of the red
shows white by contrast with the blackness of the cloud
around : for it is white compared to the cloud and the
green. 4 Again, 5 when the rainbow is fading away G and the
red is dissolving, the white cloud is brought into contact 15
with the green and becomes yellow. But the moon rainbow
affords the best instance of this colour contrast. It looks
quite white : this is because it appears on the dark cloud and
at night. So, just as fire is intensified by added fire, black 20
beside black makes that which is income degree white look
quite white. 7 Bright dyes too show the effect of contrast.
In woven and embroidered stuffs the appearance of colours 8
is profoundly affected by their juxtaposition with one
another (purple, for instance, appears different on white and 25
on black wool), and also by differences of illumination. Thus
embroiderers say that they often make mistakes in their
colours when they work by lamplight, and use the wrong ones.

1 The meaning of this clause seems to be that no further weakening
of sense gives rise to any more colours.

3 There is no sense in this, but the nonsense is probably Aristotelian.

3 374 b 9 above,

4 We must apparently supply the step : white and green gives
yellow; as Al. does. The argument is: the blacker the cloud, the
whiter the red and the greater the contrast with green, and therefore
the more yellow the appearance of the rainbow.

6 The red shows most yellow.

6 Omit f yyimmo (1. 15) with E 1 A1. Ol. (lemma).

7 Omit TOVTO 6 earl TO &lt;$&gt;ou&gt;iK.oi&gt;v (1. 2i) as a gloss due to someone
who thought A. was referring to the outer band of the moon rainbow
only. The words are incompatible with \ev&lt;r] nd^rrav (1. 1 8).

8 Omit (via in 1. 25 with JFHN Ol.

645.21 G

375 a METEOROLOGICA

We have now shown why the rainbow has three colours
and that these are its only colours. 1

30 The same cause 2 explains the double rainbow and the
faintness of the colours in the outer one and their inverted
order. When sight is strained to a great distance the
appearance of the distant object is affected in a certain way :
and the same thing holds good here. 3 So the reflection
375 b from the outer rainbow is weaker because it takes place
from a greater distance and less of it reaches the sun, and so
the colours seen are fainter. Their order is reversed because

y Red ; 6 - Green ; e = Violet ; $ =Yclbu&gt;

more 4 reflection reaches the sun from the smaller, inner

5 band. For that reflection is nearer to our sight which is

reflected from the band which is nearest to the primary

rainbow. Now the smallest band in the outer rainbow is that

which is nearest, and so it will be red ; and the second and

the third will follow the same principle. Let B be the outer

10 rainbow, A the inner one ; let T stand for the red colour,

A for green, E for violet ; yellow appears at the point Z.

Three rainbows or more are not found because even the

second is fainter, so that the third reflection can have no

15 strength whatever and cannot reach the sun at all.

The rainbow can never be a circle nor a segment of 5
a circle greater than a semicircle. The consideration of
the diagram 5 will prove this and the other properties of the
rainbow.

1 i. e. the only ones directly due to reflection ; any others being due to
contrast.

2 i. e. reflection and the consequent weakening of sight the remoter the
reflection is. The theory (though Alexander misunderstands it) evidently
is that the second bow is an indirect reflection from the first, but the
whole passage to the end of the chapter is obscure and probably corrupt.

3 Cp. 374 22. * Read TrXftco with E 2 JF 2 HN and apparently Al.

6 The figure is incorrectly drawn : KI1M should be ) a right-angle ;
but it probably represents what Aristotle had in mind (Poske). The

BOOK III. 5 375 "

Let A be a hemisphere resting on the circle of the
horizon, let its centre be K and let H be another point 20
appearing on the horizon. Then, if the lines that fall in
a cone from K have HK as their axis, and, K and M being
joined, the lines KM are reflected from the hemisphere to
H over the greater angle, 1 the lines from K will fall on the
circumference of a circle. If the reflection takes place when 35
the luminous body is rising or setting the segment of the
circle above the earth which is cut off by the horizon will be
a semicircle ; if the luminous body is above the horizon it

will always be less than a semicircle, and it will be smallest
when the luminous body culminates.

First let the luminous body be appearing on the horizon 30
at the point II, and let KM be reflected to II, and let the
plane in which A is,- determined by the triangle IIKM; 5
be produced. Then the section of the sphere will be
a great circle. Let it be A (for it makes no difference
which 4 of the planes passing through the line MK and
determined by the triangle KMII 5 is produced). Now 376*
the lines drawn from II and K to a point on the semicircle A
are in a certain ratio to one another, and no lines drawn
from the same points to another point on that semicircle can

circle part of which is dotted stands for the meridian ; the circle HMPN
for another great circle of the sphere, passing through H (the rising
sun) and M (a point in the cloud) ; the curve MN for a semicircle in
aplane at right angles to the plane of HMPN.

1 HKM.

2 A, originally a hemisphere (1. 19), is now used for a great circle
of the whole sphere, and presently (376* 2) for the half of that circle
which is above the horizon.

3 Read &lt; o&gt; in 1. 32.

4 Read OTTOIOVOVV in 1. 34 with FHN Al. Ol.

6 Only one plane passes through a particular triangle KMH.
But the A KMH may be imagined as rotating round HK, and
the plane determined by any one of its positions would do equally
well.

G 2

376 a METEOROLOGICA

have the same ratio. For since both the points H and K
and the line KH are given, 1 the line MH will be given too;
consequently the ratio of the line MH to the line MK will
5 be given too. So M will touch a given circumference.
Let this be NM. Then the intersection of the circum
ferences 2 is given, and the same ratio cannot hold between
lines in the same plane drawn from the same points to any
other circumference but MN. 3

10 Draw a line AB outside of the figure and divide it so that
A:B = MH:MK. But MH is greater than MK since the
reflection of the cone is over the greater angle (for it sub
tends the greater angle of the triangle KMH). Therefore

15 A is greater than B. Then add to B a line Z such that
B 4- Z : A = A : B. Then make another line KH having the
same ratio to B as KH has to Z, and join MIT.

Then H is the pole of the circle on which the lines from

20 K fall. For the ratio of A to HM is the same as that of
Z to KH and of B to KH. If not, let A be in the same
ratio to a line indifferently lesser or greater than HM, and
let this line be HP. Then HK and KH and HP will have
the same ratios to one another as Z, B, and A. 4 But the
ratios between Z, B, and A were such that Z -f B : A A : B.

25 Therefore nUiHP^nPiHK. Now, if the points K, H
be joined with the point P by the lines IIP, KP. these lines
will be to one another as HH is to HP, for the sides of the
triangles HHP, KPH about the angle H are homologous.

30 Therefore, HP 5 too will be to KP as HH is to HP. But
this is also the ratio of MH to MK, for 6 the ratio both of
HH to HP and of MH to MK is the same as that of A to
B- Therefore, from the points II, K there will have been
drawn lines with the same ratio to one another, not only to
the circumference MN but to another point as well, which
is impossible. Since then A cannot bear that ratio to any

1 Delete the comma after dcdorat and insert a comma after KH (1. 4).

2 i. e. of the great circle inclined to the horizon and now called A
and the circle forming the base of the cone.

3 Read XX ?/ Se ye (]F l Ol. (lemma), aXXy 8 f yn ,) rj rf, MN (E 1
Ol. (lemma)) in 1. 8. Cp. b 2.

4 Read ZBA twice with E! Al.

5 Read ^ HP with J rec. Al. Ol. (17 p E,).

6 Read rovrov rov \6yov (JFHN Al.), ov yap (] Al.) in 1. 32.

BOOK III. 5 376 b

line either lesser or greater than FIM (the proof being in
either case the same), it follows that it must stand in that 5
ratio to Mil itself. Therefore as MIT is to UK so HH
will be to MH and finally MH to MK.

If, then, a circle be described with n as pole at the
distance Mil it will touch all the angles which the lines
from H and K : make by their reflection. If not, it can be 10
shown, as before, that lines drawn to different points in the
semicircle will have the same ratio to one another, which
was impossible. If, then, the semicircle A be revolved
about the diameter HKn, the lines reflected from the
points 2 H, K at the point M will have the same ratio, and 15
will make the angle KMII equal, in every plane. Further,
the angle which I1M 3 and Mn make with HIT will always
be the same. So there are a number of triangles on lin
and KI1 equal to the triangles IIMFI and KMII. Their
perpendiculars will fall on HIT at the same point and will
be equal. Let O be the point on which they fall. Then O 20
is the centre of the circle, half of which, MN , is cut off by 5
the horizon. 6

Next let the horizon be ABF but let II have risen above
the horizon. Let the axis now be I in. The proof will be 3

1 Read dirb TOV H KU\ K in 1. 10, omitting KVK\OV. Al. read mro TOV K
/cat H, Bag. OTTO TOV KH, and both, as well as Ol., omit KVK\OI&gt;. By reading
H KOI K the insertion of KUK\OV is explained.

8 Read TO&gt;V HK and irpos TU&gt; in 1. 14 with (apparently) Al.

3 Read HM in 1. 16 after Tannery. The MSS. read Hn : Bag.
Vic. KIT.

4 TO Tffp\ TTJV MN (1. 21) implies a confusion between the horizon and
the great circle inclined to it (375 b 32). Ar. may have fallen into this
confusion, but there is no trace of these words in Al. and perhaps they
are a gloss. Or perhaps we should read TOV nepi rr\v MN (sc. KVK\OV).

5 Read i in 1. 22 with FHN Al.

9 The following passage (11. 22-28) is found in all the MSS. except
the first hand of E and is recognized by Ol. But it is not recognized
by Al. and is not found in Bag. The transition to oratio obliqua is
suspicious ; the passage is irrelevant to the context and incoherent in
itself and certainly an interpolation.

For the sun does not get the better of the upper parts, but it does
of those that lie near the earth, and there it dissolves the air. This is
the reason why the rainbow does not form a complete circle. A rain
bow due to the moon is found at night, but rarely. For the moon is
not always full, and its light is too weak to get the better of the air
(read (77) wore in 1. 26). The rainbow is most established where the
sun is most overpowered : for there then remains in it most moisture.

3?6 b METKOROLOGICA

the same for the rest as before, but the pole Ul of the circle
will be below the horizon AT since the point II has risen
377 a above the horizon. But the pole, and the centre of the
circle, 1 and the centre of that circle (namely HIT) which
now determines the position of the sun 2 are on the same
line. But since KII lies above the diameter AT, the centre 3
5 will be at O on the line KIT below the plane of the circle
Ar which determined the position of the sun before. So
the segment ^T 4 which is above the horizon will be less
than a semicircle. 6 For ^OTH was a semicircle and it has
now been cut off by c the horizon Ar. So part of it, 7 Til,
will be invisible when the sun has risen above the horizon,

and the segment visible will be smallest when the sun is on
10 the meridian 8 ; for the higher II is the lower the pole and
the centre of the circle will be.

In the shorter days after the autumn equinox there may
be a rainbow at any time of the day, but in the longer days
from the spring to the autumn equinox there cannot be
15 a rainbow about midday. The reason for this is that when
the sun is north of the equator the visible arcs of its course
are all greater than a semicircle, and go on increasing, while
the invisible arc is small, but when the sun is south of the
equator the visible arc is small and the invisible arc great,
and the farther the sun moves south of the equator the

1 Which is the base of the cone.

2 i. e. the great circle which would be the horizon if the sun were
rising when it is at the point H.

3 Of the circle which is the base of the cone.

4 Read *Y in 1. 7 wjth EJHN.

5 Comma after ^tKvicXiov (1. 7).

6 Read M in 1. 8 with FHN.

7 Read airov, eirapOcvms in 1. 9 with JFHN.

8 Read ufa-rjpfipias in 1. 10 with JFHN.

9 Comma after /u y, and colon after Tro/j/wrc/w (1. 19) with Busse-
maker.

BOOK III. 5 377 a

greater is the invisible arc. Consequently, in the days 20
near the summer solstice, the size of the visible arc is such
that before the point H reaches the middle of that arc, that
is its point of culmination, the point fl is well below the
horizon ; the reason for this being the great size of the
visible arc, and the consequent distance of the point of
culmination from the earth. But in the days near the
winter solstice the visible arcs are small, and the contrary is 25
necessarily the case : for the sun is on the meridian before
the point H has risen far.

6 Mock suns, and rods too, are due to the causes we have
described. A mock sun is caused by the reflection of sight 30
to the sun. Rods are seen when sight reaches the sun
under circumstances like those which we described, 1 when
there are clouds near the sun and sight is reflected from some
liquid surface to the cloud. Here the clouds themselves
are colourless when you look at them directly, but in the 377 b
water they are full of rods. The only difference is that in
this latter case the colour of the cloud seems to reside in
the water, but in the case of rods on the cloud itself. Rods
appear when the composition of the cloud is uneven, dense 5
in part and in part rare, and more and less watery in different
parts. Then the sight is reflected to the sun : the mirrors
are too small for the shape of the sun to appear, but, the
bright white light of the sun, to which the sight is reflected,
being seen on the uneven mirror, its colour appears partly
red, partly green or yellow. It makes no difference 10
whether sight passes through or is reflected from a medium
of that kind ; the colour is the same in both cases ; if
it is red in the first case it must be the same in the
other.

Rods then are occasioned by the unevenncss of the
mirror as regards colour, not form. The mock sun, on the 15
contrary, appears when the air is very uniform, and of the
same density throughout. This is why it is white :
the uniform character of the mirror gives the reflection
in it a single colour, while the fact that the sight is reflected

377 b METEOROLOGICA

in a body and is thrown on the sun all together by the mist,

20 which is dense and watery though not yet quite water,
causes the sun s true colour to appear just as it does when
the reflection is from the dense, smooth surface of copper.
So the sun s colour being white, the mock sun is white too.
This, too, is the reason why the mock sun is a surer sign of

25 rain than the rods ; it indicates, 1 more than they do, that
the air is ripe for the production of water. Further a mock
sun to the south is a surer sign of rain than one to the
north, for the air in the south is readier to turn into water
than that in the north.

Mock suns and rods are found, as we stated, 2 about
sunset and sunrise, not above the sun nor below it, but

30 beside it. They are not found very close to the sun, nor
very far from it, for the sun dissolves the cloud if it is near,
but if it is far off the reflection cannot take place, since
sight weakens when it is reflected from a small mirror to
a very distant object. (This is why a halo is never found
378* opposite to the sun.) If the cloud is above the sun and
close to it the sun will dissolve it : if it is above the sun
but at a distance the sight is too weak for the reflection to
take place, and so it will not reach the sun. But at the
side of the sun, 3 it is possible for the mirror to be at such
an interval that the sun does not dissolve the cloud, and
5 yet sight reaches it undiminished because it moves close to
the earth 4 and is not dissipated 5 in the immensity of space.
It cannot subsist below the sun because close to the earth
the sun s rays would dissolve it, but if it were high up and
the sun in the middle of the heavens, sight would be
dissipated. Indeed, even by the side of the sun, it is not found
when the sun is in the middle of the sky, for then the line of

10 vision is not close to the earth, 6 and so but little sight reaches
the mirror and the reflection from it is altogether feeble.
Some account has now been given of the effects of the

15 secretion above the surface of the earth ; we must go on

1 Read o-^/zruVi in 1. 25 with Ej Al. Bag. 2 372* 10.

3 Omit VTTO TOV rjXiov in 1. 3 with JFHN Al.

4 Read rfj yfj in 1. 5 with Al. (T^ yiji&gt; Ej).

5 Read didcrnaadai ill 1. 6 with EJF^

6 Read TT/JO? rfj yfj in 1. 10 with (perhaps) Al.

BOOK III. 6 378

to describe its operations below, when it is shut up in the
parts of the earth.

Just as its twofold nature gives rise to various effects in
the upper region, so here it causes two varieties of bodies.
We rnaintain that there are two exhalations, one vaporous
the other smoky, and there correspond two kinds of bodies
that originate in the earth, fossiles and metals. The heat 20
of the dry exhalation is the cause of all fossiles . Such
are the kinds of stones that cannot be melted, and realgar,
and ochre, and ruddle, and sulphur, and the other things
of that kind, most fossiles being either coloured lye or, 25
like cinnabar, a stone compounded of it. The vaporous
exhalation is the cause of all metals, those bodies which
are either fusible or malleable such as iron, copper, gold.
All these originate from the imprisonment of the vaporous
exhalation in the earth, and especially in stones. Their 30
dryness compresses it, and it congeals just as dew or
hoar-frost does when it has been separated off, though in the
present case the metals are generated before that segregation
occurs. Hence, they are water in a sense, and in a sense
not. Their matter was that which might have become
water, but it can no longer do so : l nor are they, like
savours, due to a qualitative change in actual water. Copper
and gold are not formed like that, but in every case the
evaporation congealed before water was formed. Hence,
they all (except gold) arc affected by fire, and they possess
an admixture of earth ; for they still contain the dry
exhalation.

This is the general theory of all these bodies, but we 5
must take up each kind of them and discuss it separately.

BOOK IV

I WE have explained that the qualities that constitute the 10
elements are four, and that their combinations determine
the number of the elements to be four.

Two of the qualities, the hot and the cold, are active;
two, the dry and the moist, passive. We can satisfy

1 Read a colon after oi-&lt;eVi (1. 34) with Ideler.

37 b METKOROLOGICA

ourselves of this by looking at instances. In every case

15 heat and cold determine, conjoin, and change things of the
same kind and things of different kinds, moistening, drying,
hardening, and softening them. Things dry and moist.
on the other hand, both in isolation and when present
together in the same body are the subjects of that deter-

?o mination and of the other affections enumerated. The
account we give of the qualities when we define their
characters shows this too. Hot and cold we describe as
active, for congregating is essentially l a species of being
active : moist and dry are passive, for it is in virtue of its
being acted upon in a certain way that a thing is said to

25 be easy to determine or difficult to determine . 2 So it
is clear that some of the qualities are active and some
passive.

Next we must describe the operations 3 of the active
qualities and the forms taken by the passive. First of all,
true becoming, that is, natural change, 4 is always the work
of these powers and so is the corresponding natural destruc-

30 tion ; and this becoming and this destruction are found in
plants and animals and their parts." True natural becoming
is a change introduced by these powers into the matter
underlying a given thing when they are in a certain ratio
to that matter, 6 which is the passive qualities we have
379 a mentioned. When the hot and the cold are masters of the
matter they generate a thing : if they are not, and the
failure is partial, the object is imperfectly boiled 7 or other
wise unconcocted. But the strictest general opposite of
true becoming is putrefaction. All natural destruction is on
the way to it, as are, for instance, growing old or growing

5 dry. Putrescence is the end of all these things, 8 that is of

1 Read ontp in 1. 23 with E Al. Vic.

2 Colon after &lt;WTO)V in 1. 25 (Bonitz). r/ . . . (WT&V (11. 13-25) is
parenthetical. Colon after (TiWo-T^Kev (1. 20).

3 Read as in 1. 27 with HN and perhaps Al.

4 As distinguished from the making of artificial objects.

c Hut not only in them. The statement is universally true of homo
geneous HIKTU ; cp. the reference to sea-water 379 b 4-

6 There should be a comma after \6yov (1. 33).

7 Read uoXwais in 1. 2 with EJFHN Al.

8 Read TOVTVV anavrw with E a and cod. Par. suppl. 314 in 1. 5 for
Ta&gt;v uXAcoi&gt; (nriivTtov. Bag. read t nrnvT&lt;t)i&gt; TOVT&V. JFHN read T(WTU&gt;V as

BOOK IV. i 379*

all natural objects, except such as are destroyed by
violence: 1 you can burn, for instance, flesh, bone, or any
thing else, but the natural course of their destruction ends
in putrefaction. Hence things that putrefy begin by being
moist and end by being dry. For the moist and the dry
were their matter, and the operation of the active qualities 10
caused the dry to be determined by the moist.

Destruction supervenes when the determined gets the
better of the determining by the help of the environment
(though in a special sense the word putrefaction is applied to
partial destruction, when a thing s nature is perverted). Hence
everything, except fire, is liable to putrefy ; for earth, water, 15
and air putrefy, being all of them matter relatively to fire.
The definition of putrefaction is : the destruction of the
peculiar and natural heat in any moist subject by external
heat, that is, by the heat of the environment. So since
lack of heat is the ground of this affection and everything
in as far 2 as it lacks heat is cold, both heat and cold will 20
be the causes of putrefaction, which will be due indifferently
to cold in the putrefying subject or to heat in the environ
ment.

This explains why everything that putrefies grows drier
and ends by becoming earth or dung. The subject s own
heat departs and causes the natural moisture to evaporate
with it, and then there is nothing left to draw in moisture,
for it is a thing s peculiar heat that attracts moisture and 25
draws it in. Again, putrefaction takes place less in cold
than in hot seasons, for in winter the surrounding air and
water contain but little heat and it has no power, but in
summer there is more. Again, what is frozen does not
putrefy, for its cold is greater than the heat of the air and 30
so is not mastered, whereas what affects a thing does master
it. Nor does that which is boiling or hot putrefy, for the
heat in the air being less than that in the object does not

well as TUV &lt;"i\\&lt;&gt;&gt;v, and Vic. shows traces of the same reading. TUV
&lt;i\\u)i&gt; and TOVT&V are alternatives. aXXcoi/ implies a contrast which is
wanting and Al. apparently did not read it. TUV &lt;*\\a&gt;v seems to be
due to some one who thought that o-arrpuTtjs was something contrasted
with crisis.

1 There should be a comma after &lt;f)0apfi (1. 6).

2 Read # fit cV/W? in 1. 19 with E t Bag and probably Al.

379 a METEOROLOGICA

prevail over it or set up any change. So too anything that

is flowing or in motion is less apt to putrefy than a thing

35 at rest, for the motion set up by the heat in the air is

379 b weaker than that pre-existing in the object, and so it causes

no change. For the same reason a great quantity of a thing

putrefies less readily than a little, for the greater quantity

contains too much proper fire and cold for the corresponding

qualities in the environment to get the better of. Hence,

5 the sea putrefies quickly when broken up into parts, but

not as a whole ; and all other waters likewise. Animals

too are generated in putrefying bodies, because the heat

that has been secreted, being natural, organizes the particles

secreted with it.

So much for the nature of becoming and of destruction.

10 We must now describe the next kinds of processes which 2
the qualities already mentioned set up in actually existing
natural objects as matter.

Of these concoction is due to heat ; its species are
ripening, boiling, broiling. 1 Inconcoction is due to cold
and its species are rawness, imperfect boiling, 2 imperfect
broiling. (We must recognize that the things are not

15 properly denoted by these words : the various classes of
similar objects have no names universally applicable to
them ; consequently we must think of the species enu
merated as being not what those words denote but some
thing like it.) Let us say what each of them is. Concoction
is a process in which the natural and proper heat of an
object perfects the corresponding passive qualities, which

20 are the proper matter of any given object. 3 For when
concoction has taken place we say that a thing has been
perfected and has come to be itself. It is the proper heat
of a thing that sets up this perfecting, though external
influences may contribute in some degree to its fulfilment.
Baths, for instance, and other things of the kind contribute

1 For uniformity these words are used throughout the following
chapters to render irenavo-ts, fyrjcris, onrqa-iSy though in various places
other English words would be more appropriate.

2 Read /xoAwtrir in 1. 14 with E a FHN 2 Al. Ol.
s Read c fcaora&gt; in 1. 20 with EJ F t Al. Bag.

BOOK IV. 2 379 b

to the digestion of food, but the primary cause is the
proper heat of the body. In some cases of concoction 25
the end of the process is the nature l of the thing nature,
that is, in the sense of the formal cause and essence. In
other cases it leads to some presupposed state which is
attained when the moisture has acquired certain properties
or a certain magnitude in the process of being broiled or
boiled or of putrefying, 2 or however else it is being heated.
This state is the end, for when it has been reached the
thing has some use and we say that concoction has taken
place. Must is an instance of this, 3 and the matter in boils 30
when it becomes purulent, and tears when they become
rheum, and so with the rest. 4

Concoction ensues whenever the matter, the moisture,
is mastered. For the matter is what is determined by the
heat connatural to the object, and as long as the ratio 35
between them exists in it a thing maintains its nature.
Hence things like the liquid and solid excreta and ejecta in 38o a
general are signs of health, and concoction is said to have
taken place in them, for they show that the proper heat has
got the better of the indeterminate matter.

Things that undergo a process of concoction necessarily
become thicker and hotter, for the action of heat is to make
things more compact, thicker, and drier. 5

This then is the nature of concoction : but inconcoction is
an imperfect state due to lack of proper heat, that is, to cold.
That of which the imperfect state is, is the corresponding
passive qualities which are the natural matter of anything.

So much for a definition of concoction and inconcoction. 10

3 Ripening is a sort of concoction ; for we call it ripening
when there is a concoction of the nutriment in fruit. And
since concoction is a sort of perfecting, the process of ripening
is perfect when the seeds in fruit are able to reproduce the

1 Digestion proper or the ripening of fruit (380*25) subserves the
perfecting of what is a * natural organic thing in a sense in which
pus and rheum are not natural organic things. This is the distinction
which A. is trying to draw.

2 We should expect ncrraivopfvov ripening , as Thurot points out.

3 i.e. when it * ripens and becomes wine. 4 Cp. n. I.

38o a METEOROLOGICA

15 fruit in which they are found ; for in all other cases as well
this is what we mean by * perfect . This is what ripening
means when the word is applied to fruit. However, many
other things that have undergone concoction are said to be
1 ripe , the general character of the process being the same,
though the word is applied by an extension of meaning.
The reason for this extension is, as we explained before, 1
that the various modes in which natural heat and cold per
fect the matter 2 they determine have not special name*-

20 appropriated to them. In the case of boils and phlegm, and
the like, the process of ripening is the concoction of the
moisture in them by their natural heat, for only that which
gets the better of matter can determine it. 3 So everything
that ripens is condensed from a spirituous into a watery
state, and from a watery into an earthy state, and in general

25 from being rare becomes dense. In this process the nature
of the thing that is ripening incorporates some of the matter
in itself, 4 and some it rejects. So much for the definition of
ripening.

Rawness is its opposite and is therefore an imperfect
concoction of the nutriment in the fruit, namely, of the un
determined moisture. Consequently a raw thing is either
spirituous or watery or contains both spirit and water.

30 Ripening being a kind of perfecting, rawness will be an im
perfect state, and this state 5 is due to a lack of natural heat
and its disproportion to the moisture that is undergoing the
process of ripening. (Nothing moist ripens without the
admixture of some dry matter : water alone of liquids 6
38o b does not thicken.) 7 This disproportion may be due either
to defect of heat or to excess of the matter to be determined :
hence the juice of raw things is thin, cold rather than hot,
and unfit for food or drink. Rawness, like ripening, is used
5 to denote a variety of states. Thus the liquid and solid
excreta and catarrhs are called raw for the same reason, for

1 379 b 14- 2 i- e - tne nioist and the dry.

3 And the natural heat is that which can master the moist.

4 Read alrr^v in 1. 26. r&lt; Read 6 ;/ arc Xetn in 1. 31 with JFHN.

6 Cp. 383* 12 and note, and 382 b 13.

7 This sentence interrupts the connexion and would be more in
place at 1. 3 (Vic.).

BOOK IV. 3 380

in every case the word is applied to things because their
heat has not got the mastery in them and compacted them.
If we go further, brick is called raw and so is milk and
many other things too when they are such as to admit of
being changed and compacted by heat but have remained
unaffected. Hence, while we speak of boiled* water, we 10
cannot speak of raw water, since it does not thicken. We
have now defined ripening and rawness and assigned their
causes.

Boiling is, in general, a concoction by moist heat of the
indeterminate matter contained in the moisture of the thing
boiled, and the word is strictly applicable only to things
boiled in the way of cooking. The indeterminate matter, 15
as we said, 1 will be either spirituous or watery. The cause
of the concoction is the fire contained in the moisture ; 2 for
what is cooked in a frying-pan is broiled : it is the heat out
side that affects it and. as for the moisture in which it is
contained, it dries this up and draws it into itself. But
a thing that is being boiled behaves in the opposite way :
the moisture contained in it is drawn out of it by the heat 20
in the liquid outside. Hence boiled meats are drier than
broiled ; for, in boiling, things do not draw the moisture into
themselves, since the external heat gets the better of the
internal : if the internal heat had got the better it would
have drawn the moisture to itself. Not every body admits
of the process of boiling : if there is no moisture in it, it does 25
not (for instance, stones), nor does it if there is moisture in it
but the density of the body is too great for it to be mastered,
as in the case of wood. But only those bodies can be boiled
that contain moisture which can be acted on by the heat con
tained in the liquid outside. It is true that gold and wood
and many other things are said to be boiled : but this is
a stretch of the meaning of the word, though the kind of
thing intended is the same,^ the reason for the usage being 30
that the various cases have no names appropriated to them.
Liquids too, like milk and must, are said to undergo a pro
cess of boiling when the external fire that surrounds and

1 a 2g. 2 In the moisture external to the thing boiled.

3 Omit ov with E l (ov supra add. E x ) Bag. Cp. a 17.

38o b METEOROLOGICA

heats them changes the savour in the liquid into a given
form, the process being thus in a way like what we have
called boiling.

381* The end of the things that undergo boiling, or indeed any
form of concoction, is not always the same : some are meant
to be eaten, some drunk, and some are intended for other
uses ; for instance dyes, too, are said to be boiled \ l

All those things then admit of boiling which can grow
5 denser, smaller, or heavier ; also those which do that with
a part of themselves and with a part do the opposite, dividing
in such a way that one portion thickens while the other
grows thinner, like milk when it divides into whey and curd. 2
Oil by itself is affected in none of these ways, and therefore
cannot be said to admit of boiling . Such then is the

10 species of concoction known as boiling , and the process is
the same in an artificial and 3 in a natural instrument, for
the cause will be the same in every case.

Imperfect boiling 4 is the form of inconcoction opposed to
boiling. Now the opposite of boiling properly so called 6 is
an inconcoction of the undetermined matter in a body due
to lack of heat in the surrounding liquid. (Lack of heat

15 implies, as we have pointed out, the presence of cold.) 6 The
motion which causes imperfect boiling is different from that
which causes boiling, for the heat which operates the con
coction is driven out. The lack of heat is due either to the
amount of cold in the liquid or to the quantity of moisture 7
in the object undergoing the process of boiling. Where
either of these conditions is realized the heat in the surround
ing liquid is too great to have no effect at all, but too small

1 This sentence interrupts the connexion, as Thurot points out, and
is at least out of place, and oure 7reTTo/io/oi? is not easy to explain.

2 Read rrveriav in 1. 7 with JF 3 HN, as in H.A. 522 b 5, 8, 9, n;
P. A. 676*6, 8, n, 15, 18; G.A. 739 b 22, ;;2 a 25. TR-CTUI properly
means rennet, but Ar. also uses it of the milk coagulated by rennet.
Cp. P. A. 6;6 a 8 and Ogle s note.

3 Read xai for fj in 1. 10 with EJFHN.

4 Read poXwais in 1. 12 with J a FHN Al. Vic.

6 Read (vavrla rfi npwTTj Xtx&iVi? in 1. 13. Bag. read rfj Trpwrr) and
Vic. records the same reading as a variant.

6 17 8 fvdfia . . . etprjTm (11. 14, 1 5) should be in a parenthesis (Thurot).
The reference is to 379* 19.

7 Cp. b l8.

BOOK IV. 3 3 8i a

to carry out the process of concoction uniformly and
thoroughly. Hence things are harder when they are imper- 20
fectly boiled l than when they are boiled, and the moisture
in them more distinct from the solid parts. So much for the
definition and causes of boiling and imperfect boiling. 2

Broiling is concoction by dry foreign heat. Hence if
a man were to boil a thing but the change and concoction
in it were due, not to the heat of the liquid but to that of 25
the fire, the thing will have been broiled and not boiled
when the process has been carried to completion : if the
process has gone too far we use the word * scorched to
describe it. If the process leaves the thing drier at the end
the agent has been dry heat. Hence the outside is drier
than the inside, the opposite being true of things boiled.
Where the process is artificial, broiling is more difficult than 30
boiling, for it is difficult to heat the inside and the outside
uniformly, since the parts nearer to the fire are the first to
get dry and consequently get more intensely dry. In this 38l b
way the outer pores contract and the moisture in the thing
cannot be secreted but is shut in by the closing of the pores.
Now broiling and boiling are artificial processes, but the
same general kind of thing, as we said, 3 is found in nature
too. The affections produced are similar though they lack 5
a name ; for art imitates nature. For instance, the concoction
of food in the body is like boiling, for it takes place in a hot
and moist medium and the agent is the heat of the body.
So, too, certain forms of indigestion are like imperfect boil
ing. And it is not true that animals are generated in the
concoction of food, as some say. Really they are generated 10
in the excretion which putrefies in the lower belly, and they
ascend afterwards. For concoction goes on in the upper
belly but the excretion putrefies in the lower : the reason
for this has been explained elsewhere. 4

1 Read /K/uoXvoyzc i/u in 1. 21 with Erec. FHN Al.

2 Read /ioXvi/o-i? in 1. 22 with E rec. FHN.

3 379 b i4, 38o a i6.

4 Alexander thinks the reference is to the Problems ; Heitz thinks it is
to a lost work, Kepi rpo^y. The connexion seems to be this : if animals
were generated in digestion, digestion would be a-J^ts-, and then it
would be quite different from e^o-ir : so it is necessary to show that
digestion is not a-fj^is.

3 8i b METEOROLOGICA

We have seen that the opposite of boiling is imperfect
boiling : now there is something correspondingly opposed to

15 the species of concoction called broiling, but it is more difficult
to find a name for it. It would be the kind of thing that
would l happen if there were imperfect broiling instead of
broiling proper through lack of heat due to deficiency in the
external fire or to the quantity of water in the thing under
going the process. For then we should get too much he^t
for no effect to be produced, but too little for concoction to
take place.

30 We have now explained concoction and inconcoction,
ripening and rawness, boiling and broiling, and their
opposites.

We must now describe the forms taken by the passivo,

qualities the moist and the dry. The elements of bodies,

25 that is, the passive ones, are the moist and the dry ; the bodies

themselves are compounded of them and whichever pre

dominates determines the nature of the body ; thus some

bodies partake more of the dry, others of the moist. All the

forms to be described will exist either actually, or potentially

and in their opposite : for instance, there is actual melting

and on the other hand that which admits of being melted.

Since the moist is easily determined and the dry deter-

30 mined with difficulty, their relation to one another is like

that of a dish and its condiments. The moist is what makes

the dry determinate, and each serves as a sort of glue to the

382 a other as Empedocles said in his poem on Nature, 2 ( glueing

meal together by means of water . Thus the determined

body involves them both. Of the elements earth is especially

representative of the dry, water of the moist, 3 and therefore

all determinate bodies in our world 4 involve earth and

5 water. Every body shows the quality of that element

which predominates in it. It is because earth and water are

the material elements of all bodies that animals live in them

alone and not in air or fire.

Of the qualities of bodies hardness and softness are those
10 which must primarily belong to a determined thing, for

1 Read in 1. 16 olov yeVoiro with P^HN. 2 Diels, 21 B. 34.

3 Contrast De Gen. et Corr. 33l a 4. 4 i.e. the sublunary region.

BOOK IV. 4 382*

anything made up of the dry and the moist is necessarily
either hard or soft. Hard is that the surface of which does
not yield into itself; soft that which does yield but not 1 by
interchange of place : water, for instance, is not soft, for its
surface does not yield to pressure or sink in but there is an
interchange of place. Those things are absolutely hard and
soft which satisfy the definition absolutely, and those things 15
relatively so which do so compared with another thing.
Now relatively to one another hard and soft are indefinable,
because it is a matter of degree, but since all the objects of
sense are determined by reference to the faculty of sense it
is clearly the relation to touch which determines that which
is hard and soft absolutely, and touch is that which we use
as a standard or mean. So we call that which exceeds it 20
hard and that which falls short of it soft.

5 A body determined by its own boundary 2 must be either
hard or soft ; for it either yields or does not.

It must also be concrete : or it could not be so determined.
So since everything that is determined and solid is either
hard or soft and these qualities are due to concretion, all 2 5
composite 3 and determined bodies must involve concretion.
Concretion therefore must be discussed.

Now 4 there are two causes besides r&gt; matter, the agent and
the quality brought about, the agent being the efficient
cause, the quality the formal cause. Hence concretion and
disaggregation, drying and moistening, must have these two 3
causes.

But since concretion is a form of drying let us speak of382 b
the latter first. 6

As we have explained, the agent operates by means of
two qualities and the patient is acted on in virtue of two

1 Read /^ TG&gt; for r&&amp;gt; \u\ in 1. 12.

2 As contrasted with a liquid determined by the form of the vessel
containing it.

3 As distinct from elementary.

4 Read fi? in 1. 27 with E 2 JHN Ol. (lemma).

5 Read napd in 1. 28 with EJFHN Al. Ol.

8 firfl . . . TTpwrov ( b I, 2) is clearly out of place. Transpose eVet. . . Trpwrci/
to follow vypaivea-Qat ( a 3 1) ; and read TO de TTCKTXOV in b 2 with var. Ji. The
contrast to TTOICI p.cv ( a 32) comes in TO 8e TTUO-^OI/, and TO 8e nados . . .
v ( a 33) is more or less parenthetical.

H 2

METEOROLOGICA

qualities : action takes place by means of heat or cold, and
the quality is produced either by the presence or by the
382 b absence of heat or cold ; but that which is acted upon is
moist or dry or a compound of both. Water is the element
characterized by the moist, earth that characterized by the
dry, for these among the elements that admit the qualities
moist and dry are passive. Therefore cold, too, being found

5 in water and earth (both of which we recognize to be cold),
must be reckoned rather as a passive quality. It is active
only as contributing to destruction or incidentally in the
manner described before 1 ; for cold is sometimes actually
said to burn and to warm, but not in the same way as heat
does, but by collecting and concentrating heat.

10 The subjects of drying are water and the various watery
fluids and those bodies which contain water either foreign
or connatural. By foreign I mean like the water in wool,
by connatural, like that in milk. The watery fluids aro
wine, urine, whey, and in general those fluids which have no
sediment or only a little, except where this absence of sedi

15 ment is due to viscosity. For in some cases, 2 in oil anc
pitch for instance, it is the viscosity which prevents any
sediment from appearing.

It is always a process of heating or cooling that dries
things, but the agent in both cases is heat, either internal 01
external. For even when things are dried by cooling, like

20 a garment, where the moisture exists separately it is the
internal heat that dries them. It carries off the moisture in
the shape of vapour (if there is not too much of it), being itsell
driven out by the surrounding cold. So everything is dried,
as we have said, by a process either of heating or cooling,
but the agent is always heat, cither internal or external,

25 carrying off the moisture in vapour. By external heat
I mean as where things are boiled : by internal where the
heat breathes out and takes away and uses up its moisture. 3
So much for drying.

1 i. e. by ai/riTre/JiVrao-iy. Cp. 347 b 4~9-

2 Omit pev in 1. 15 with JFHN.

3 afaupeOfVTos (1. 26) as a genitive absolute, where the nominative
would be more regular, is difficult. Perhaps we should read d
(roO eVcrds), sc. fappov. So perhaps Al. 204. 7.

BOOK IV. 6 382*

6 Liquefaction is, first, condensation into water ; second,
the melting of a solidified body. The first, condensation,
is due to the cooling of vapour : l what melting is will 30
appear from the account of solidification.

Whatever solidifies is either water or a mixture of earth
and water, and the agent is either dry heat or cold. Hence
those of the bodies solidified by heat or cold which are
soluble 2 at all are dissolved by their opposites. Bodies 383*
solidified by the dry-hot are dissolved by water, which is the
moist-cold, while bodies solidified by cold are dissolved by
fire, which is hot. Some things seem to be solidified by
water, e. g. boiled honey, 3 but really it is not the water but 5
the cold in the water which effects the solidification. Aqueous
bodies are not solidified by fire : for it is fire that dissolves
them, and the same cause in the same relation cannot have
opposite effects upon the same thing. Again, water solidi
fies owing to the departure of heat ; so it will clearly be

* dissolved by the entry into it of heat : cold, therefore, must
be the agent in solidifying it.

Hence aqueous bodies do not thicken when they soli- 10
dify ; for thickening occurs when the moisture goes off and
the dry matter comes together, but water is the only liquid
that does not thicken. 4 Those bodies that are made up of
both earth and water are solidified both by fire and by cold
and in either case are thickened. The operation of the two
is in a way the same and in a way different. Heat acts by 15
drawing off the moisture, and as the moisture goes off in
vapour the dry matter thickens and collects. Cold acts by

1 Omit (Is vdup in 1. 30 with EJI^HN Ol. (lemma).

2 Aristotle does not distinguish in this or the next chapter between
solution (\vt(r6ai) and melting (TJ)IS) : they are treated indifferently
as the correlate of rr/^ir.

3 But cp. 385*1.

4 Two points are confusedly intended: (l) because thickening =
removal of moisture, solidification of aqueous bodies by cold (not
involving removal of moisture) does not involve thickening ; (2) thicken
ing involves dry matter that comes together ; aqueous bodies have no
such matter (or too little, though Aristotle does not say this); . . aqueous
bodies do not thicken. vSwp in the last clause (1. 12) must be taken
to = TO. vdaros and to include olvos ovpov oppos (382 b i3), and is con
trasted with TO. vyp, e.g. milk, blood (cp. 384*11-19), as containing
(little or) no dry matter. The first line of thought is implied by 610
(1. 10), the second by roiaCra (1. n). Cp. 380*33.

383 a METEOROLOGICA

driving out the heat, which is accompanied by the moisture
as this goes off in vapour with it. Bodies that arc soft but

20 not liquid do not thicken but solidify when the moisture
leaves them, e. g. potter s clay in process of baking : but
those mixed bodies that are liquid thicken besides solidify
ing, like milk. Those bodies which have first been thickened
or hardened by cold often begin by becoming moist : thus
potter s clay at first in the process of baking steams and

25 grows softer, and is liable to distortion in the ovens for that
reason.

Now of the bodies solidified by cold which are made up
both of earth and water but in which the earth preponderates,
those which solidify by the departure of heat melt by heat
when it enters into them again ; this is the case with frozen

30 mud. But those which solidify by refrigeration, where all
the moisture has gone off in vapour with the heat, 1 like iron
and horn, cannot be dissolved except by excessive heat, but
they can be softened though manufactured iron does
melt, to the point of becoming fluid and then solidifying
again. This is how steel is made. The dross sinks to the
b bottom 2 and is purged away : when this has been done often
and the metal is pure we have steel. The process is not
repeated often because the purification of the metal involves
great waste and loss of weight. But the iron that has less
5 dross is the better iron. The stone pyrimachus? too,
melts and forms into drops and becomes fluid ; after having
been in a fluid state it solidifies and becomes hard again.
Millstones, 4 too, melt and become fluid: when the fluid
mass begins to solidify it is black but its consistency comes
to be like that of lime. [Mud and earth, too, melt]/

1 Read vypov for Geppov in 1. 30 with E 2 .

2 It does not, but Aristotle may have thought that it did, especially
as the iron would be of the nature of earth. It is hard to make the
text mean the opposite, which is true, with Ideler. Cp. Aetna 478
qualem purgato cernes desidere ferro .

3 Perhaps a sort of silex : silex pyromaque in Daremberg and
Saglio, s.v.ferruw.

4 Millstones were often made of various kinds of lava, especially
basaltic lava.

6 This sentence should be rejected with Thurot. It is disconnected :
iri]\6s repeats a 29; yij without qualification is senseless in this con
nexion.

BOOK IV. 6 383

Of the bodies which are solidified by dry heat some are 10
insoluble, others are dissolved by liquid. Pottery and some
kinds of stone that are formed out of earth burnt up by fire,
such as millstones, 1 cannot be dissolved. Natron and salt
are soluble by liquid, but not all liquid but only such as is
cold. 2 Hence water and any of its varieties melt them, but
oil does not. For the opposite of the dry-hot is the cold-moist 15
and what the one solidified the other will dissolve, and so
opposites will have opposite effects.

7 If a body contains more water than earth fire only thickens
it : if it contains more earth fire solidifies it. Hence natron
and salt and stone and potter s clay must contain more earth.

The nature of oil presents the greatest problem. 3 If 20
water preponderated in it, cold ought to solidify it ; if
earth preponderated, then fire ought to do so. 4 Actually
neither solidifies, but both thicken it. The reason is that it
is full of air (hence it floats on the top of water, since air 25
tends to rise). Cold thickens it by turning the air in it into
water, for any mixture of oil and water is thicker than
either. Fire and the lapse of time thicken and whiten it.
The whitening follows on the evaporation of any water that
may have been in it ; the thickening is due to the change of 30
the air into water as the heat in the oil is dissipated. The
effect in both cases is the same and the cause is the same,
but the manner of its operation is different. Both heat
and cold thicken it, but neither dries it (neither the sun nor
cold dries oil), not only because it is glutinous but because it

1 This seems to contradict 1. 7. The word there is at /zuXai, here
oi /luXuu. Since millstones were made of a great variety of kinds of
stone it is possible that Aristotle here meant by ot p.v\iai an entirely
different kind of stone from the lava to which al /u Xru referred. If so,
he expressed his meaning in a very clumsy way ; for he has given no
means of finding out what sort of stone ot /^uXt at is meant to denote.
But perhaps the word is corrupt. ?ot Mr}Xtot. Cp. Theophr. De Lap.
ii. 14, iii. 21. The difficulty cannot be met by distinguishing r?}Kc&lt;rd&lt;u
and \vf&lt;r0ai with Ideler.

2 Warm water, of course, is cold for the purpose of the argument.

3 Cp. De Gen. An. 735** 13 sqq.

4 Omit t^ft n-Xcoi/ in 1. 21 with EJHN Vic. Bag. ; omit us of n-uyoi and
cor 6 KfajLos with EHN Al.

34 a METEOROLOGICA

contains air. Its glutinous nature prevents it from giving off
vapour and so fire does not dry it or boil it off. 1

Those bodies which are made up of earth and water may
be classified according to the preponderance of either.
There is a kind of wine, for instance, which both solidifies 2

5 and thickens by boiling I mean, must. All bodies of this
kind lose their water as they dry. That it is their water
may be seen from the fact that the vapour from them con
denses into water when collected. So wherever some sedi
ment 3 is left this is of the nature of earth. Some of
these bodies, as we have said, 4 are also thickened and dried

10 by cold. For cold not only solidifies but also dries water,
and thickens things by turning air into water. (Solidifying,
as we have said, 5 is a form of drying.) Now those things
that are not thickened by cold, but solidified, belong rather
to water, e.g. wine, urine, vinegar, lye, c whey. But those
things that are thickened (not by evaporation due to fire) 7

15 are made up either of earth or of water and air : honey of
earth, while oil contains air. Milk and blood, too, are
made up of both water and earth, though earth generally 8
predominates in them. So, too, are the liquids out of which
natron and salt are formed ; and stones are also formed
from some mixtures of this kind. Hence, if the whey has
not been separated, it burns away if you boil it over a fire.

20 But the earthy element in milk can also be coagulated by
the help of fig-juice, if you boil it in a certain way as

1 Omitting TO v8a&gt;p (1. i) : this and the variant r6 eXaiov are rival
glosses.

2 And therefore comes under the heading of earth, whereas wine
in general is water (382 b i3). You would expect the order to be
thickens and solidifies , but tycrac is a sort of afterthought to make it
clear that the nr)is is by heat and not by cold. But Aristotle is rather
uncertain on the point. Cp. 385 I, 3S; b 9, 388 b I.

3 Some sediment worth speaking of is meant as distinct from the
little or none of 382 b i4. Aristotle is unsuccessfully trying to clear
up the difficulty he has created by sometimes treating whey, wine, &c.,
as water (species of water, 382 b 13), which really involves their having
no admixture of earth, when he knows that really they have some
sediment, though not much. Cp. 388 b I.

383-13.

382" i.

Koiu a, a lye of wood ashes.

i. e. that are thickened by cold.

Exceptions in 384* 24-9.

BOOK IV. 7 384

doctors do when they treat it with fig-juice, 1 and this is
how the whey and the cheese are commonly separated.
Whey, once separated, does not thicken, as the milk did,
but boils away like water. Sometimes, however, there is
little or no cheese in milk, and such milk is not nutritive
and is more like water. The case of blood is similar : cold 25
dries and so solidifies it. Those kinds of blood that do not
solidify, like that of the stag, belong rather to water and
are very cold. Hence they contain no fibres : for the fibres
are of earth and solid, and blood from which they have been
removed does not solidify. This is 2 because it cannot dry ;
for what remains is water, just as what remains of milk 3
when cheese has been removed is water. The fact that
diseased blood will not solidify is evidence of the same thing,
for such blood is of the nature of serum and that is phlegm
and water, the nature of the animal having failed to get the
better of it and digest it.

Some of these bodies a are soluble, e. g. natron, some in
soluble, e. g. pottery : of the latter, some, like horn, can be
softened by heat, others, like pottery and stone, cannot. The
reason is that opposite causes have opposite effects: con
sequently, if solidification is due to two causes, the cold and
the dry, solution must be due to the hot and the moist,
that is, to fire and to water (these being opposites) : water 5
dissolving what was solidified by fire alone, fire what was
solidified by cold alone. Consequently, if any things 4
happen to be solidified by the action of both, these are least
apt to be soluble. Such a case we find where things have
been heated and are then solidified by cold. When the
heat in leaving them has caused most of the moisture 5 to
evaporate, the cold so compacts these bodies together again
as to leave no entrance even for moisture. 6 Therefore heat 10
does not dissolve them (for it only dissolves those bodies
that are solidified by cold alone), nor does water (for it does

1 Cp. Dioscorides, ii. 77.

2 Read m i/ in 1. 29 with JFHN Bag.

3 Those made up of earth and water.

* Read ei n for ci in 1. 6 with F and Henricus (eir tl Jj).

fi Delete the comma after tgiuv (1. 9) and read a comma after \ryp6v.

6 Cp. 3 83 a i 3 ,26.

384 b METEOROLOGICA

not dissolve what cold solidifies, but only what is solidified
by dry heat). 1 But iron is melted by heat and solidified by

15 cold. 2 Wood consists of earth and air and is therefore
combustible but cannot be melted or softened by heat. (For
the same reason it floats in water all except ebony. This
does not, for other kinds of wood contain a preponderance
of air, but in bkck ebony the air has escaped and so earth
preponderates in it.) Pottery consists of earth alone because

20 it solidified gradually in the process of drying. 3 Water
cannot get into it, for the pores were only large enough to
admit of vapour escaping: and seeing that fire solidified it,
that cannot dissolve it either.

So solidification and melting, their causes, and the kinds
of subjects in which they occur have been described.

All this makes it clear that bodies are formed by heat 8
25 and cold and that these agents operate by thickening and
solidifying. It is because these qualities fashion bodies that
we find heat in all of them, and in some cold in so far as
heat is absent. These qualities, then, are present as active,
and the moist and the dry as passive, and consequently
30 all four are found in mixed bodies. So water and
earth are the constituents of homogeneous bodies both
in plants and in animals and of metals such as gold,
silver, and the rest water and earth and their respective
exhalations shut up in the compound bodies, as we have
explained elsewhere. 4

385* All these mixed bodies are distinguished from one another,
firstly by the qualities special to the various senses, that is, by

1 This sentence should perhaps be omitted. There is an anacolu-
tion ov& virbv&aTos and the general explanation given entirely ignores
the more special account of the preceding sentence. The therefore
is pointless (soThurot). Further c&gt; 8e ai8^pns . . . n^ywrai (1. 14) follows
much better on the sentence before. LI. 1 1-14 are really an alternative
to 11. 7-11 and 11. 14, 15. ,

2 Omit oxrrf . . . tiXvrov (\\. 14, 15). There is no MS. authority for it,
and it seems to have found its way into the texts through a misinter
pretation of Alexander, who certainly did not read it. The clause runs :
hence both are involved in its solidification : therefore it is insoluble
(i. e. difficult to dissolve). This gloss may give the correct interpreta
tion of the remark about iron. Iron is quoted as an instance of the
process described in 11. 7, 8. Cp. 385*31.

3 And therefore is insoluble.

4 e.g. 378* I5~ b 6 in relation to metals.

BOOK IV. 8 385

their capacities of action. 1 (For a thing is white, fragrant,
sonant, sweet, hot, cold in virtue of a power of acting on
sense.) 2 Secondly by other more characteristic affections
which express their aptitude to be affected : I mean, for 5
instance, the aptitude to melt or solidify or bend and so
forth, all these qualities, like moist and dry, being passive.
These are the qualities that differentiate bone, flesh, sinew,
wood, bark, stone and all other homogeneous natural
bodies. Let us begin by enumerating these qualities ex- 10
pressing the aptitude or inaptitude of a thing to be affected
in a certain way. They are as follows : to be apt or inapt
to solidify, melt, be softened by heat, be softened by water,
bend, break, be comminuted, impressed, moulded, squeezed ; 15
to be tractile or non-tractile, malleable or non-malleable,
to be fissile or non-fissile, apt or inapt to be cut ; to be viscous
or friable, compressible or incompressible, combustible or
incombustible ; to be apt or inapt to give off fumes. These
affections differentiate most bodies from one another. Let
us go on to explain the nature of each of them.

We have already given a general account of that which is 20
apt or inapt to solidify or to melt, but let us return to them
again now. Of all the bodies that admit of solidification
and hardening, some are brought into this state by heat,
others by cold. Heat does this by drying up their moisture,
cold by driving out their heat. Consequently some bodies *5
are affected in this way by defect of moisture, some by
defect of heat : watery bodies by defect of heat, earthy bodies
of moisture. Now those bodies that are so affected by
defect of moisture are dissolved by water, unless like pottery
they have so contracted that their pores are too small for
the particles of water to enter. All those bodies in which 3
this is not the case are dissolved by water, e.g. natron, salt,
dry mud. Those bodies that solidified through defect of
heat are melted by heat, e.g. ice, lead, copper. So much
for the bodies that admit of solidification and of melting,
and those that do not admit of melting.

1 Omit *m before TW in 1. 2 with E (original reading) and HN V

2 Delete the colon after &vi&gt;aa-6at (1. 2). Aewoi/ . . . JTI is a parenthesis
(Ideler).

385 b METEOROLOGICA

The bodies which do not admit of solidification are those
which contain no aqueous moisture and are not watery, but
in which heat and earth preponderate, like honey 1 and
must 2 (for these are in a sort of state of effervescence), and
those which do possess some water but have a preponderance
5 of air, like oil and quicksilver, and all viscous substances
such as pitch and birdlime. 3

Those bodies admit of softening 4 which are not (like ice) 5 9
made up of water, but in which earth predominates. All
their moisture must not have left them (as in the case of
natron and salt), nor must the relation of dry to moist in

10 them be incongruous (as in the case of pottery). 6 They
must be tractile (without admitting water) or malleable
(without consisting of water), and the agent in softening
them is fire. Such are iron and horn. 7

Both of bodies that can melt and of bodies that cannot,
som e do and some do not admit of softening in water.
Copper, for instance, which can be melted, cannot be
softened in water, whereas wool and earth can be softened
in water, for they can be soaked. (It is true that though

15 copper can be melted the agent in its case is not water, but
some of the bodies that can be melted by water too such
as natron and salt cannot be softened in water: for nothing
is said to be so affected unless the water soaks into it and
makes it softer.) Some things, on the other hand, such as
wool and grain, can be softened by water though they cannot
be melted. Any body that is to be softened by water must
be of earth and must have its pores larger than the particles

20 of water, and the pores themselves must be able to resist
the action of water, whereas bodies that can be melted
by water must have pores throughout. 8

1 Cp. 383*5-

2 Cp. 384 a 5, 3S7 b 9&gt; 388 b I.

3 Reading (TUT *&lt;u) lt&gt;s in 1. 5 with Al. Ol.

4 /MaXKTos, that which can be softened by heat, as opposed
that which can be softened by water.

5 Omit nas yap Kpva-raXXcs in 1. 7 with E (original reading)

6 Cp. a 28 and Theophr. de lgne&lt; v. 42.

7 Omit Ko.1 u\n in 1. 12 with Gesner. Cp. 384 b 15.

8 OVTWV Se &lt;TK\r)poTtpo)v (1. 20) must be corrupt, but the contrast
intended is clear. If a body is rtyKrov (can be softened by water)

BOOK IV. 9 385*

[Why is it that earth is both melted and softened by
moisture, while natron is melted but not softened ?
Because natron is pervaded throughout by pores so that l
the parts are immediately divided by the water, but earth 25
has also pores 2 which do not connect 3 and is therefore
differently affected according as the water enters by one or
the other set of pores. 4 ]

Some bodies 5 can be bent or straightened, like the reed
or the withy, some cannot, like pottery and stone. Those
bodies are apt to be bent and straightened which can
change from being curved to being straight and from being 30
straight to being curved, and bending and straightening
consist in the change or motion to the straight or to a curve,
for a thing is said to be in process of being bent whether it
is being made to assume a convex or a concave shape. So 386*
bending is defined as motion to the convex or the concave
without a change of length. For if we added or to the
straight , we should have a thing bent and straight at once,
and it is impossible for that which is straight to be bent.
And if all bending is a bending back or a bending down,
the former being a change to the convex, the latter to the 5
concave, a motion that leads to the straight cannot be
called bending, but bending and straightening are two
different things. These, then, are the things that can, and
those that cannot be bent, and be straightened.

Some things can be both broken and comminuted, others
admit only one or the other. Wood, for instance, can be
broken but not comminuted, ice and stone can be com- 10
minuted but not broken, while pottery may either be coin-
it must admit the water by certain pores or passages, the passages
themselves remaining intact ; if it is TTJKTOV (soluble) the pores
themselves yield to the action of the water: this is expressed rather
illogically by saying that it has pores throughout. Obviously if it
had pores in every direction it would already be dissolved into its
ultimate particles. Read ovras vK\r]poT(povs with E rec. N rec. and
perhaps Al. Ol.

1 Omit yf in 1. 24 with JFHN.

a Omit at in 1. 25 with EJHNj.

3 i. c. are not in a straight line with one another, cp. Probl. 905*40.

4 Aristotle might have contrasted hard and soft pores, or partial
pores and pores throughout ; he mixes the two contrasts in the text
we have.

6 Omit TWV o-co/xaVo)!/ in 1. 27 with E l Ol. (lemma).

386 a METEOROLOGICA

minuted or broken. The distinction is this : breaking is
a division and separation into large parts, comminution into
parts of any size, but there must be more of them than two.
Now those solids that have many pores not communicating

15 with one another are comminuible (for the limit to their sub
division is set by the pores), but those whose pores stretch
continuously for a long way are breakable, while those
which have pores of both kinds are both comminuible and
breakable.

Some things, e. g. copper and wax, are impressible, others,
e.g. pottery and water, are not. The process of being
impressed l is the sinking of a part of the surface of a thing
in response to pressure or a blow, in general to contact.

20 Such bodies are either soft, 2 like wax, where part of the
surface is depressed while the rest remains, or hard, like
copper. Non-impressible :&gt;&gt; bodies are either hard, like
pottery (ijs surface does not give way and sink in), or liquid,
like water (for though water does give way it is not in
a part of it, for there is a reciprocal change of place of all its

25 parts). Those impressibles that retain the shape impressed
on them and are easily moulded by the hand are called
plastic ; those that are not easily moulded, such as stone
or wood, 4 or are easily moulded but do not retain the shape
impressed, like wool or a sponge, are not plastic. The last
group are said to be squeezable . Things are squeezable
when they can contract into themselves under pressure,

30 their surface sinking in without being broken and without 5
the parts interchanging "position as happens in the case of
water. (We speak of pressure when there is movement and
386 b the motor remains in contact with the thing moved, of
impact when the movement is due to the local movement of
the motor.) Those bodies are subject to squeezing which
have empty pores empty, that is, of the stuff of which the
body itself consists and that can sink in upon the void
spaces within them, or rather upon their pores. For some-

1 Omit ptv in 1. 19 with all the MSS.

2 Read /zaXaxa in 1. 2O with E (original reading) OI. Bag.

3 Read *al (ro) cidXaara in 1. 22 with Thurot, and a full stop after
XaX*os-. * Cp. b 23.

5 Read KO.\ {/-?) in 1. 31 with Par. suppl. 314.

BOOK IV. 9 36 b

times the pores upon which a body sinks in are not empty
(a wet sponge, for instance, has its pores full). But the 5
pores, if full, must be full of something softer than the body
itself which is to contract. 1 Examples of things squeezable
are the sponge, wax, flesh. Those things are not squeezable
which cannot be made to contract upon their own pores by
pressure, either because they have no pores or because their
pores are full of something too hard. Thus iron, stone, 10
water and all liquids are incapable of being squeezed.

Things are tractile when their surface can be made to
elongate, for being drawn out is a movement of the surface,
remaining unbroken, in the direction of the mover. Some
things are tractile, e. g. hair, thongs, sinew, dough, birdlime,
and some are not, e.g. water, stone. Some things are both 15
tractile and squeezable, e.g. wool; in other cases the two
qualities do not coincide ; phlegm, for instance, is tractile but
not squeezable, and a sponge squeezable but not tractile.

Some things are malleable, like copper. Some are not,
like stone and wood. Things arc malleable when their
surface can be made to move (but only in part) 2 both down- 20
wards and sideways with one and the same blow : when
this is not possible a body is not malleable. All malleable
bodies are impressible, but not all impressible bodies are
malleable, e.g. wood, though on the whole the two go
together. Of squeezable things some are malleable and
some not : wax and mud are malleable, wool is not. 3

Some things are fissile, e.g. wood, some are not, e.g. 25
potter s clay. A thing is fissile when it is apt to divide in
advance of the instrument dividing it, for a body is said to
split when it divides to a further point than that to
which the dividing instrument divides it and the act of
division advances : which is not the case with cutting.
Those bodies which cannot behave like this are non-fissile. 30
Nothing soft is fissile (by soft I mean absolutely soft and
not relatively : for iron itself may be relatively soft) ; nor
are all hard things fissile, but only such as are neither liquid

1 Read avro in 1. 7 (airo E corr. N, eavrd JiHi, c auro J rec.).

2 To exclude dj/TiTrfpi oracm. Cp. a 24.

3 Omit ovd uSwp in 1. 25 after Vic.

38y a METEOROLOGICA

nor impressible nor comminuible. Such are the bodies
that have the pores along which they cohere lengthwise and
not crosswise.

Those hard or soft solids are apt to be cut which do not

5 necessarily either split in advance of the instrument or break

into minute fragments when they are being divided. Those

that necessarily do so and liquids cannot be cut. Some

things can be both split and cut, like wood, though generally

it is lengthwise that a thing can be split and crosswise that

it can be cut. For, a body being divided into many parts,

10 in so far as its unity is made up of many lengths it is apt to

be split, in so far as it is made up of many breadths it is

apt to be cut.

A thing is viscous when, being moist or soft, it is
tractile. Bodies owe this property to the interlocking of
their parts when they are composed like chains, for then
they can be drawn out to a great length and contracted
again. Bodies that are not like this are friable.
15 Bodies are compressible when they are squeezable and
retain the shape they have been squeezed into l ; incom
pressible when they are either inapt to be squeezed at all or
do not retain the shape they have been squeezed into.

Some bodies are combustible and some are not. Wood,
wool, bone are combustible ; stone, ice are not. Bodies are
20 combustible when their pores are such as to admit fire and
their longitudinal pores contain moisture weaker than fire.
If they have no moisture, or if, as in ice or very green wood,
the moisture is stronger than fire, they are not com
bustible.

Those 2 bodies give off fumes which contain moisture, but

in such a form that it does not go off separately in vapour

when they are exposed to fire. For vapour is a moist

25 secretion tending to the nature of air 3 produced from

1 Cp. TrXnoru 386* 27 : the only difference seems to be that the
plasta must be easily moulded while there is no such limitation to
the TriXqra here.

2 The text for the remainder of this chapter is particularly corrupt
and uncertain.

3 Omit KOI Trvevpa (1. 25) as a gloss due to a mistaken inference from
1. 29. The words are inconsistent with Aristotle s theory of

BOOK IV. 9 3 87 a

a liquid by the agency of burning heat. Bodies that give
off fumes give off secretions of the nature of air by the lapse
of time : as they perish away they dry up or become earth.
But the kind of secretion we are concerned with now differs
from others in that it is not moist nor does it become wind l
(which is a continuous flow of air in a given direction).
Fumes are a common secretion of dry and moist together 30
caused by the agency of burning heat. Hence they do not
moisten things but rather colour them.

The fumes of a woody body are called smoke. (I mean
to include bones and hair and everything of this kind in the
same class. For there is no name common to all the
objects that I mean, but, for all that, these things are all in
the same class by analogy. Compare what Empedocles
says : They are one and the same, hair and leaves and the
thick wings of birds and scales that grow on stout limbs. 2 ) 5
The fumes of fat are a sooty smoke and those of oily sub
stances a greasy steam. Oil does not boil away or thicken
by evaporation 3 because it does not give off vapour but
fumes. Water on the other hand does not give off fumes,
but vapour. Sweet wine 4 does give off fumes, for it contains
fat and behaves like oil. It does not solidify under the in- 10
fluence of cold and it is apt to burn. Really it is not wine
at all in spite of its name : for it does not taste like wine
and consequently does not inebriate as ordinary wine does.
It contains but little fumigablc stuff and consequently is in
flammable."

All bodies are combustible that dissolve into ashes, and
all bodies do this that solidify under the influence either of 15
heat or of both heat and cold ; for we find that all these
bodies are mastered by fire. Of stones the precious stone
called carbuncle 6 is least amenable to fire. 7

Of combustible bodies some are inflammable and some

1 i. e. it is different both from the moist and from the dry

2 Diels, 21 B. 82. 3 Cp. 383^0.

4 Cp. 380^32, 384*5, 3 88 l &gt; i.

5 Read &lt;$ ?x in 1. 13 with JjFHN Bag. Al., and dvpiaatv with EJHN
Al. Ol. The line of thought would be : dvpiavis implies moisture, a 23 ;
so having little of it may = being dry and therefore inflammable.

6 Cp. Theophr. De Lap. iii. 18. 7 Cp. a 19.

387 b METEOROLOGICA

are not, and some of the former are reduced to coals. Those
20 are called inflammable which produce flame and those
which do not are called non-inflammable . Those fumig-
able bodies that are not liquid are inflammable, but pitch,
oil, wax are inflammable in conjunction with other bodies
rather than by themselves. Most inflammable are those
bodies that give off smoke. 1 Of bodies of this kind 2 those
that contain more earth than smoke are apt to be reducec
to coals. Some bodies that can be melted are not in-
25 flammable, e. g. copper ; and some bodies that cannot be
melted are inflammable, e. g. wood ; and some bodies can
be melted and are also inflammable, e.g. frankincense. The
reason is that wood has its moisture all together and this is 3
continuous throughout and so it burns up : whereas copper
has it in each part but not continuous, and insufficient in
30 quantity to give rise to flame. In frankincense it is dis
posed in both of these ways. Fumigable bodies are
inflammable when earth predominates in them and they are
consequently such as to be unable to melt. These are in-
388 a flammable because they are dry like fire. When this dry
comes to be hot there is fire. This is why flame is burning
smoke or dry exhalation. The fumes of wood are smoke,
those of wax and frankincense and such-like, and pitch and
whatever contains pitch or such-like, are sooty smoke, while
5 the fumes of oil and oily substances are a greasy steam ; so
are those of all substances which are not at all combustible by
themselves because there is too little of the dry in them (the
dry being the means by which the transition to fire is
effected), but burn very readily in conjunction with some
thing else. (For the fat is 4 just the conjunction of the oily
with the dry.) So those bodies 5 that give off fumes, like
oil and pitch, belong rather to the moist, but those that
burn to the drv. c

1 Because flame is burning smoke, 388 a 2.

2 Inflammable bodies.

3 Read o-wtxfs earn in 1. 28 with the MSS.

4 Which does burn readily, P. A. 649*28.

5 Omit TU&gt;I&gt; lypSav (1. 8), which is an alternative to vypov.

6 Both classes are thought of as falling within the fumigables in the
wide sense of 387* 23, b i .

BOOK IV. 10 3 88 a

5 Homogeneous bodies differ to touch by these affections 10
and differences, as we have said. 1 They also differ in
respect of their smell, taste, and colour.

By homogeneous bodies I mean, for instance. 2 metals ,
gold, copper, silver, tin, iron, stone, and everything else of
this kind and the bodies that are extracted from them ; 15
also the substances found in animals and plants, for instance,
flesh, bones, sinew, skin, viscera, hair, fibres, veins (these are
the elements of which the non-homogeneous bodies like the
face, a hand, a foot, and everything of that kind are made up),
and in plants, wood, bark, leaves, roots, 3 and the rest like
them.

The homogeneous bodies, it is true, are constituted by 20
a different cause, 4 but the matter of which they are com
posed is the dry and the moist, that is, water and earth (for
these bodies exhibit those qualities most clearly). The
agents are the hot and the.cold, for they constitute and make
concrete the homogeneous bodies out of earth and water
as matter. Let us consider, then, which of the homogeneous 25
bodies are made of earth and which of water, and which of
both.

Of organized bodies some are liquid, some soft, some
hard. The soft and the hard are constituted by a process
of solidification, 5 as we have already explained.

Those liquids that go off in vapour are made of water,
those that do not are either of the nature of earth, or a 3
mixture either of earth and water, like milk, or of earth
and air, like wood, 6 or of water and air. like oil. Those
liquids which are thickened by heat are a mixture. (Wine
is a liquid which raises a difficulty : for it is both liable to 388 b
evaporation and it also thickens ; for instance ne\v wine

1 385*8.

2 Read mov ni Tf in 1. 13 with EJN Bag., and omit olov after /iTX-
\fv6fji(va with all the MSS. and Bag.

3 According to Aristotle s doctrine elsewhere, however, while wood
and bark are homoeomerous (385* 9), leaves and roots are anomoeo-
merous (De An. 4i2 b 2, 3). rnXXa 1. 19 ... &lt;a( 1. 20 should perhaps be
omitted with H, but this looks like an error due to homoeoteleuton.
Aristotle is probably writing carelessly.

4 sc. their ddos.

5 Read (on) irji-ei in 1. 28 after Gessner. Cp. 382*25.

6 Cp. 3 8 4 b i5-

1 2

388 METEOROLOGICA

does. The reason is that the word wine is ambiguous l
and different wines behave in different ways. New wine
is more earthy than old, and for this reason it is more apt
to be thickened by heat and less apt to be congealed by
5 cold. For it contains much heat and a great proportion of
earth, as in Arcadia, where it is so dried up in its skins by
the smoke that you scrape it to drink. If all wine has some
sediment in it then it will belong to earth or to water
according to the quantity of the sediment it possesses.) The
liquids that are thickened by cold are of the nature of
earth ; those that are thickened either by heat or by cole
consist of more than one element, like oil and honey and
sweet wine .

10 Of solid bodies those that have been solidified by cold are
of water, e. g. ice, snow, hail, hoar-frost. Those solidified by
heat are of earth, e.g. pottery, cheese, natron, salt. Some
bodies are solidified by both heat and cold. 2 Of this kind
are those solidified by refrigeration, that is by the privation
both of heat and of the moisture which departs with the

15 heat. For salt and the bodies that are purely of earth
solidify by the privation of moisture only, ice by that of
heat only, these bodies by that of both. So both the active
qualities and both kinds of matter were involved in the
process. Of these bodies those from which all the
moisture has gone are all of them of earth, like pottery 3 or
amber. (For amber, also, and the bodies called tears are

20 formed by refrigeration, like myrrh, frankincense, gum.
Amber, too, appears to belong to this class of things : the
animals enclosed in it show that it is formed by solidification.
The heat is driven out of it by the cold of the river and
causes the moisture to evaporate with it, as in the case of
honey when it has been heated and is immersed in water.)

25 Some of these bodies cannot be melted or softened ; for in
stance, amber and 4 certain stones, e.g. the stalactites in caves.

1 Read (tV) ivi in 1. 2 with JFN.

2 Cp. 383* 13. Bekker s punctuation is misleading, 6Va d* ITT apfyolv
(1. 13) is taken up by oo-coi p.tv ovv arrav (1. 1 8) and oo-a 5f ^ o\a (1. 3)
From roiuCra 8 (1. 13) to K&lt;U fl\ (v **?$*&gt; (! 1 7) is a parenthesis.

3 The words KU\ yap to egar/i/fti TO iypov (11. 19-24) are a parenthesis
and there should therefore be no full stops after K(&gt;/i/u and vy^ov.

4 Reading *ai for fj in 1. 25 with JFH Al.

BOOK IV. 10 3 88 l

(For these stalactites, too, are formed in the same way : the
agent is not fire, but cold which drives out the heat, which,
as it leaves the body, 1 draws out the moisture with it : in
the other class of bodies 2 the agent is external fire.) In
those from which the moisture has not wholly gone earth 30
still preponderates, but they admit of softening by heat,
e.g. iron and horn. 3

Now since we must include among meltables those
bodies which are melted by fire, these contain some water :
indeed some of them, like wax, are common to earth and
water alike. But those that are melted by water are of 389*
earth. Those that are not melted either by fire or water
are of earth, or of earth and water.

Since, then, all bodies are either liquid or solid, and since
the things that 4 display the affections we have enumerated
belong to these two classes and there is nothing inter
mediate, it follows that we have given a complete account
of the criteria for distinguishing whether a body consists of 5
earth or of water or of more elements than one, and
whether fire was the agent in its formation, or cold, or
both.

Gold, then, and silver and copper and tin and lead and
glass and many nameless stones are of water : for they are ro
all melted by heat. Of water, too, are some wines and
urine and vinegar and lye and whey and serum : for they
are all congealed by cold. In iron, horn, nails, bones,
sinews, wood, hair, leaves, bark, earth preponderates. So,
too, in amber, myrrh, frankincense, and all the substances
called tears , and stalactites, and fruits, such as leguminous 15
plants and corn. For things of this kind are, to a greater
or less degree, of earth. For of all these bodies some admit
of softening by heat, the rest give off fumes and are formed

1 Read UVTWV for avrov in 1. 29.

2 e. g. salt, natron.

3 Omit \tftava&gt;Tbs . . . (ir/zici (11. 31, 32) [* Frankincense and bodies of
that kind give off vapour in the same sense in which wood does ].
The sentence is quite irrelevant to the context and may have been
absent from Alexander s text.

4 Alexander s paraphrase ravrn & for TOITWV 8e rd (1. 3) suggests that
the true reading may be TOVTOJV fi exaora or TOI TCOI/ fie ra el fif/, and the
varieties of these are determined by the aforesaid qualities .

38g a METEOROLOGICA

by refrigeration. So again in natron, salt, and those kinds of
stones that are not formed by refrigeration and cannot be
melted. Blood, on the other hand, and semen 1 are made
20 up of earth and water and air. If the blood contains fibres,
earth preponderates in it : consequently it solidifies by
refrigeration and is melted by liquids ; if not, it is of water
and therefore does not solidify. Semen solidifies by
refrigeration, its moisture leaving it together with its heat.

We must investigate in the light of the results we have I
arrived at what solid or liquid bodies are hot and what
cold.

25 Bodies consisting of water are commonly cold, unless
(like lye. urine, wine) they contain foreign heat. Bodies
consisting of earth, on the other hand, are commonly hot
because heat was active in forming them : for instance
lime and ashes.

We must recognize that cold is in a sense the matter of
bodies. For the dry and the moist are matter (being

30 passive) and earth and water are the elements that primarily
embody them, and they are characterized by cold. Con-
sequently cold must predominate in every body that consists
of one or other of the elements simply, unless such a body
contains foreign heat as water does when it boils or when it
has been strained through ashes. This latter, too, has
acquired heat from the ashes, for everything that has been
5 burnt contains more or less heat. This explains the
generation of animals in putrefying bodies : the putrefying
bod&gt; contains the heat which destroyed its proper heat. 2

Bodies made up of earth and water are hot, for most of
them derive their existence from concoction and heat,
though some, like the waste products of the body, 3 are the
products of putrefaction. Thus blood, semen, marrow, fig-
juice, and all things of the kind are hot as long as they are

10 in their natural state, but when they perish and fall away
from that state they are so no longer. For what is left of
them is their matter and that is earth and water. 4 Hence

1 Cp. De Gen. An. 735*29 sqq.

2 Cp. 379 a 3~ b 8. 3 Cp. De Gen. An. 724^27 and Platt s note.
4 Read *m for fj in 1. 12 with FX Al.

BOOK IV. ii 3 8g b

both views are held about them, some people maintaining
them to be cold and others to be warm ; for they are
observed to be hot when they are in their natural state, but
to solidify * when they have fallen away from it. That, then, 15
is the case of mixed bodies. However, the distinction we
laid down holds good : if its matter is predominantly water
a body is cold (water being the complete opposite of fire),
but if earth or air it tends to be warm.

It sometimes happens that the coldest bodies can be
raised to the highest temperature by foreign heat ; for the
most solid and the hardest bodies are coldest when deprived 20
of heat and most burning after exposure to fire : thus water
is more burning than smoke 2 and stone than water.

12 Having explained all this we must describe the nature of
flesh, bone, and the other homogeneous bodies severally.

Our account of the formation of the homogeneous bodies
has given us the elements out of which they are compounded
and the classes into which they fall, and has made it clear 25
to which class each of those bodies belongs. The homo
geneous bodies are made up of the elements, and all the
works of nature in turn of the homogeneous bodies as
matter. All the homogeneous bodies consist of the elements
described, 3 as matter, but their essential nature is determined
by their definition. This fact is always clearer in the case of
the later products, of those, in fact, that are instruments, as 30
it were, and have an end : it is clearer, for instance, that
a dead man is a man only in name. And so the hand of
a dead man, too, will in the same way be a hand in name
only, just as stone flutes might still be called 4 flutes: for 390
these members, too, are instruments of a kind. But in the
case of flesh and bone the fact is not so clear to see, and in
that of fire and water 5 even less. For the end is least ob
vious there where matter predominates most. If you take
the extremes, matter is pure matter and the essence is pure 5
definition ; but the bodies intermediate between the two are

1 Cp. a 19. 2 i. e. burning smoke = flame.

3 i. e. earth and water.

4 Read Xt^Otirjtrav (n^) in 1. i with Thurot.

5 Omit yr]s in 1. 3 with JFHN and probably Al.

39o a METEOROLOGICA

matter or definition in proportion as they are near to
either. 1 For each of those elements has an end and is not
water or fire in any and every condition of itself, just as
flesh is not flesh nor viscera viscera, and the same is true

10 in a higher degree with face and hand. What a thing is is
always determined by its function : a thing really is itself
when it can perform its function ; an eye, for instance, when
it can see. When a thing cannot do so it is that thing
only in name, like a dead eye or one made of stone, just as
a wooden saw is no more a saw than one in a picture. 2 The
same, then, is true of flesh, except that its function is less

15 clear than that of the tongue. So, too, with fire; but its
function is perhaps even harder to specify by physical
inquiry 3 than that of flesh. The parts of plants, and
inanimate bodies like copper and silver, are in the same
case. They all are what they are in virtue of a certain
power of action or passion just like flesh and sinew. But

20 we cannot state their form accurately, and so it is not easy
to tell when they are really there and when they are not
unless the body is thoroughly corrupted and its shape only
remains. So ancient corpses suddenly become 4 ashes in
3QO b the grave and very old fruit preserves its shape only but not
its taste : so, too, with the solids that form from milk.

Now heat and cold and the motions they set up 5 as the
bodies are solidified by the hot and the cold are sufficient to
5 form all such parts as are the homogeneous bodies, flesh,
bone, hair, sinew, and the rest. For they are all of them
differentiated by the various qualities enumerated above,
tension, tractility, comminuibility, hardness, softness, and
the rest of them : all of which are derived from the hot and
the cold and the mixture of their motions. But no one
would go as far as to consider them sufficient in the case of

1 And therefore the form, though it is there, is hard to see in those
bodies which are near to matter, like the elements.

2 Read dXX ?} &lt;uy 77 fiKwv in 1. 13 with E.

3 &lt;j)v&lt;riKo&gt;s,\. 16, of which there is no trace in Al., should perhaps be
omitted.

4 Read olov in 1. 22 with JFHN Al. and omit u with the MSS. and Al.

5 Read ra is iVo TOVTUV in 1. 3 with JFHN (rait ano TOVTWV Al. para
phrase).

6 Read av en 86&lt;i f (1. 10) with JFN Al. (H too supports m).

BOOK IV. 12 390 b

the non-homogeneous parts (like the head, the hand, or the 10
foot) which these homogeneous parts go to make up. Cold
and heat and their motion 1 would be admitted to account
for the formation of copper or silver, but not for that of a
saw, a bowl, or a box. So here, save that in the examples
given the cause is art, but in the non-homogeneous bodies
nature or some other cause.

Since, then, we know to what element each of the homo
geneous bodies belongs, we must now find the definition of 15
each of them, the answer, that is, to the question, * what is
flesh, semen, and the rest ? For we know the cause of a
thing and its definition when we know the material or the
formal or, better, both the material and the formal con
ditions of its generation and destruction, and the efficient
cause of it. 2

After the homogeneous bodies have been explained we
must consider the non-homogeneous too, and lastly the 20
bodies made up of these, such as man, plants, and the rest.

1 Read ^v^por^y &lt;al tfep/iorr/y Kai KIVTJO-IS with E 2 JHN Al. Bag. (sup
ported by F).
8 Cp. De Gen. et Corr. 335* 24 sqq,

INDEX

3 8a ~ 9 b = 33 8a 39

Achaea 43 b 2, 66*26, 68 b 6.

Achelous 5o b i5, 52*35.

Aedepsus 66 a 29.

Aegean 54 a 14, 20.

Aegon 5o b ii.

Aegospotami 44 b 32.

Aeolian islands 67*3.

Aeschylus 42 b 36, 43 a 27.

Aesop 56 b ii.

Air, affections common to air and
water 38 b 24; nearest to fire
39* 1 8 ; position of air and fire
relatively to the celestial sphere
a 33-4 1*36 ; condensed by cold
41 b 36, 42 a 29 ; acts as a mirror
42 b 6, 73 b 8, 74*2; continuous
with the dry exhalation 44* 1 1 ;
its outermost part potentially
fire 45 b 32; its constitution a
condition of the appearance of
haloes 46*5; drier in summer,
moist in spring 48 b 27 ; thought
to become wind, cloud, or water
according to its state 49 a i6,
60*27; the sphere of air 54 b 24;
vaporous air 64 b 27; full of cold
vapour 6/ a 34 ; condensations
of 73 a 28, &c. ; in the clouds
b 2o; in South and in North
77 h 26 ; contained in oil 84 a 16 ;
preponderates in all wood but
ebony b 17.

Alum 59 b 12.

Amber 88 b 18-20, 25, 89 a 13.

Ammon, country of 52 b 32.

Anaxagoras 39 b 22, 42 b 27, 45* 25,
48 b i2, 65*17, 19, 69 b i4.

Anaximenes 65* 18, b 6.

Aparctias 63 b 14, 29, 31, 64 a 14,
b 4, 21, 22, 29,65*2, ;f.

Apeliotes 63 b 13, 64 a i5f., b 19,
65* 10.

Arabia 49 a 5.

Araxes 50*24.

Arcadia 51*3, 88 b 6.

Argestes63 b 24, 29, 64* 18, b 5, 20,
23, 30, 65 a 3, 8.

Argos 52 a 9.

Ashes 87 b 14, 89* 28, b 2 f., 9o a 23.

Asia 50* 18, 53*9.
Asteius 43 b 19.

Autumn 4S a I, b 27, 28, 58 b 4,
65 a 2, 66 b 2.

Bactrus 5o :l 23.

Bark85 a 9, 88 a 19, 89 a 13.

Bearded comet 44* 23.

Bellowing 3 of earth 68 a 25.

Bending 85 a 6, 13, b 26 86*9.

Bird winds 62 a 23.

Birdlime 85 b 5, 86 b 14.

Blood 84*16, 25, 31, 89*19, 20.

b 9, 9o b 1 6.
Boiling 7Q b i2, 8o b i3, 34, 8i a 9,

12, 22, b 3, 7, 14,21.
Boiling, imperfect 79*2, b 14, 8l*

12, 22, b 9, 14.
Bone 79*7, 85*8, 87*18, b i,

88 a 17, 89* 12, b 24, 90*2, b 5.
Boreas 61*22, 64 b 26.
Bosporus 53 a 7, 72* 15.
Breaking 85* 14, 86* 9-17.
Broiling 79 b 13, 81*23, b 3, 14,

16, 21.
Broiling, imperfect 79 b l4, 8i b 16.

Caecias 63 b 17, 30, 64* 15, b I, 12,
14, 18, 24, 25.

Canopus 5i b 33-

Carbuncle 87 " 18.

Caspian 54*3.

Caucasus 50*26, 28, 51*8.

Cause, originating principle of all
motion the first 39 a 23.

Celtice 5o b 2.

Chaonia 59*25.

Charybdis 56 b 13.

Chasms 42*35, b i4, 17, 52 b 6.

Cheese 84 a 22, 24, 30, 88 b 12.

Chios 42 b 36.

Choaspes 50*24.

Chremetes 5o b 12.

Cinnabar 78 a 26.

Cleidemus 7o a II.

Clouds, why not formed in upper
air 40 a 25, b 29; when they
gather * 30 ; = air condensing
into water 46 32 ; mist = barren

INDEX

cloud 46 b 35; frozen cloud =
snow 47 b 23; clouds contain
much heat ib. 26 ; collect on
either side of sun s course 6i a 9 ;
blown away by north winds
64 b S; lightning ejected when
clouds contract 64 b 32 ; their
density highest at their upper
limit 69*16; densest on side
where heat escapes 7i a I ; rain
bow is purest when cloud
blackest 75* 9.

Coal 87 b iS.

Cold, air condensed by 4i b 36;
more cold needed to freeze
vapour than water 47*25; three
bodies condensed by b 12 ; con
centrated within by external heat
48 b 15 ; condenses vaporous air
into water 49 b 23 ; condenses
vapour into water 6o a I ; towards
sunrise, reason of 67 a 26 ; pre
vails over the dry evaporation
71*6 ; snow and northerly rain
occur when cold prevails a 8;
adverse to putrefaction 79 a 26 ;
= lack of heat 8o a 7 ; natural
cold perfects the matter it
determines * 19 ; iron solidified
by 84 b 14 ; sweet wine not solidi
fied by 87 b 10 ; the matter of
bodies 89 a 29 ; earth and water
characterized by a 3 1 .

Coldness of north wind concen
trates heat by recoil 47 b 5 ; of
mountains 52 b 7.

Colour without shape, reflection of
73 b 24 ; homogeneous bodies
differentiated by 88 a 13.

Combustible 84* 1 6, 85** 1 8, 87* 1 7- -
22, b i 3 , 18.

Comets 42 b 25 45 a io, 45 b i2,

3546 a 3 M, * I, 8, 13-
Comminution 85 a 14, S6 a 9-17,

87 a i, 9o b 7.

Compressible 85 a 17, 87 a 15.
Concoction 79* 12 8o a 10, 8o a

ii f., 22, b i 3 , 1 6, 8i a 9, 23, b 7,

10, 15, 20.

Cooling, things dried by 82 b 18.
Copper 77 b 21, 78 a 28, b 1,85*33,

b i 3 f, 86* 17, 22, b i8, 87 b 2 5 ,

28, 88 a i4, 89 a 7, 9o a i7, b u.
Coraxi 5l a n.
Corinth 45* 4.

Crown (constellation) 62 b 10.
Curd 8i a 7.

Cutting 8s a l7, 86 b 30, 87*3-11.

Darius 52 b 28.

Deluge 52 a 33, cf. 68 b 5, 12.

Democritus 42 b 27, 43 b 25, 45*25,

56 b 10, 65 a 1 8, b i.
Deucalion 52 a 32.
Dew 47 a i6, 18, 22, 36, b 17, 20,

3i,49 a 9&gt; 78 a 3i-
Diagram 75 b 18.
Dodona 52 a 35.

Dolphin (constellation) 45 b 22.
Dough 86 b l4.
Dross83 b i.
Drought 44 b 2o, 6o b 5, 9, 6l b 9,

65 b 9 , 10, 66 b 3, ;f., 68 b 16.
Dyes 75*23, cf. 28.

Earth, its kinds and parts

occupies the lowest place 39 a 1 7 ;
rays reflected from 40* 28 ; and
water, the heaviest and coldest
elements b 20 ; dry exhalation
from b 26, 4i b 10, 6i a 30, 62 a 5,
69 a 3 ; smaller than sun 45 b 2 ;
shadow of earth does not reach
stars b 9 ; moist exhalation from
47 b 27, 69* 3 ; small particles of,
swim on water 48 a 8 ; lower
parts of, cold in warm weather,
warm in frost b 3 ; thought to
sweat water out fjo a i, 53 b n,
57 a 24, b 18 ; cavities in 5o b 36 ;
the same parts of, not always
moist or dry 5i a 19, 33, 53 a 25 ;
interior of, grows and decays
51*27; vital process of b 8;
small in comparison with uni
verse 52 a 27; thought to have
been at first surrounded by
moisture 53 b 6; when heated
assumes flavours 59 b 10 ; fire in
6o a 5, 67*9; heat in 60*16;
inhabited 62 b 13, 26, 63 a I,
64 a 7, 65* 30 ; essentially dry
65 b 24, 82 a 3, b 3 ; bellowing
of 68 a 25 ; two kinds of bodies in
78* 20 ; bodies made up of earth
and water 83 a 13, 26, b 1 8, 84*3,
17, b 3o; soluble 83 b 9; stones
formed by burnt earth b 1 1 ;
homogeneous bodies (mainly)
made of earth 88*25.

Earthquakes, causes of 38 b 26,
65*14-69*9.

Ebony 84 b I7f.

Eclipse 67 b 2o, 25-27, 30 f.

INDEX

Eddy 70^22, 28, 71* n.
Egypt 5i b 2S, 34.
Egyptians 43 b 10, 28, 52 b 2i.
Element 38 a 22, b 2i, 39 b 5, 17,

12,
, 27.

5, b n,

55 b i,78 b iof.,
Empedocles 57 a 26, 6g b 12, 8i b

32, 8 7 b 4-
Ephesus 7i a 31.
Equator 77* 18.
Equinox 63 a 34 f., b 12, 14, 64* 17,

7i b 3o, 77*12, 14.
Erytheia 59=* 28.
Etesiae 6i b 24, 35, 62 a 12, 19, 23,

24, 30, 65*15, 65*6.
Ether 39 b 2i, 24, 27, 65*19, 6g b

14, 20.

Ethiopia 49 a 5, 62 b 2i.

Ethiopian 5o b 11.

Euboea 66 a 27.

Eucles 43 b 4.

Euripus 66*23.

Euronotus 63 b 22.

Europe 5o b 3.

Eurus 63 b 2i, 64 a i7, b 3, 20, 24,
26, cf. 63* 7.

Euxine 5o b 3, 54*17.

Evaporation (exhalation), dry,
from the earth 4O b 26, 44* 10,
58*19, 34, 69*26, 33, 7S a 2i ;
ignited by motion 4i b 35, 42*
17; of right consistency 44* 20;
moist evaporation dissolved by
hot exhalation b 23 ; e. of water
= vapour 46 b 32 ; south wind
allows it to accumulate 47 b
10; sun s heat wastes the heat
in e. 6i b 15 ; quenched by cold
b 25 ; generally moves con
tinuously 66*6 ; vaporous 78*
26 ; e. of two kinds 4i b 7, 57 b 24,

58*21,60*8, 78*18, 84 b 33-
Excreta So* I, b 5-

Fat 87 b 6, 88*7.

Fibres 84* 28, 88* 17, 89* 20 f.

Fire occupies the highest place
39*16; ether identified by
Anaxagoras with fire b 22 ; the
heavens thought to be fire b 30,
40* i ; what we commonly call
fire 40 b 22 ; the dry exhalation
potentially like fire b 29, cf.
41*7 ; fire surrounding the air
41*30; warm and dry element
b 14 ; outermost part of air
potentially fire 45 b 32 ; lives as

long as it is fed 55*4 ; lightning
thought to be fire shining
through cloud 70* 23 ; fire inten
sified by added fire 75* 20 ; the
other elements matter relatively
to fire 79 a 16 ; proper fire b 3 ;
external fire 8i b 18 ; pores such
as to admit fire 87* 19.

Fire-winds 39*4, 69* 1 1, 7 i a i6, b 1 5.

Fissile 85* 16, 86 b 2587* 1 1.

Flame = ebullition of dry ex
halation 4i b 21 ; through smoke
creates various colours 42 b 1 9 ;
a becoming, involving constant
interchange of moist and dry
55*9; fire becomes flame only
when wind accompanies it
66* 2 ; = burning smoke or
dry exhalation 88*2.

Flavour 54 b I,

56*13, 57*9, 1 6,
12, 20,
78 b i, 8o b 2, 32, 87 b 12, 88* 12.

58*5, n, b i9&gt;22, 59 b 9,

jO ft

Flesh 79*7, 85*8, 86 b 8, 88
, 14, 16,19, b s

16,
i6.

Flutes 89 b 32.

* Fore-runners 6i b 24.

Form, nature as 79 b 25.

Fossiles 78*20, 22, 24.

Frankincense 87 b 26, 30, 88*3,

b 2o, 31, 89*14.
Friable 85*17, 87*1
Frost 43 b i9, 48 b 4, 6i b 26, 66 b 5,

71*6.
Fruit 8o a u, 14, 16, 28, 85 b 19,

89* 15, 90*23.
Fumes 85* 18, 87* 23 b 13, b 21,

3 i,88 :l 3, 89*17.

Glass 89* 8.

Goats 4i b 3, 28, 31.

Gold 48* 9, 78*28, b i, 4, 8o b 29,

8 4 b 32, 88*14, 89*7-
Graeci 52 * 2.
Greece 51*7, 52*9.
Greek world 5o b 15, 52*33.
Gum 88 b 20.

| Hail 47 b 14, 28, 31 f., 34-49 a ",

69 b 32, 88 b i2.
Hair 86 b i4, 87 b l, 4, 88*17, 89*

12, 9o b 5.
Haloes 44 b 2, 6, 13, 18, 46* 5, 7l b

1873*31, 73 b 34, 74 a 10, 15,

77 b 34-
Hard 82* 10 f., 15, 18, 20, 22, 25,

83*23, b 7, 86*22 f., b 33, 87*4,

88*28.

INDEX

Heat why stars impart heat to
earth 40" 21 ; derived from sun
41*12; sun causes terrestrial
41*19; tends upwards 42*15,
cf. 4i a 5,69 a 25 ; raises moisture
47 a 8 ; thrusts clouds up from
earth 48 a 20 ; everything that
has been exposed to fire has
heat potentially 58 b 7, 89 b 4;
of earth 62 a 6, cf. 6o a i6; and
cold, winds distinguished by
64 a 22 ; of sun, not the cause
of thunder and lightning 69 b 25 ;
heat the cause of spontaneous
generation 79 b 7 ; matter de
termined by connatural heat
b 34; various modes in which
natural heat perfects matter
8o a i9; dry heat or cold the
agent of solidification 82 b 33,
84 b is; bodies solidified by
cold, melted by heat 85 a 3i;
burning heat produces vapour
fromliquid87 a 25,cf.3o; foreign
heat 89 a 26, b I, 19 ; heat which
destroys the proper heat of a
body b 6; most compounds of
earth and water derive their
existence from concoction and
heat b 7.

Hebrus so b 17.

Hellas 52 a 34.

Hellenes 52 b 3.

Hellespont 66 a 26.

Hellespontias 64 b 19.

Hephaestus 69* 32.

Heracleia 67 a I.

Heracles 59 a 28; pillars of 54 a 12,

62 b 2I, 28.

Heraclitus 55 a 14.

Hercynian Mountains 5O b 5.

Hestia 69 a 32.

Hiera 67 a 2.

Hippocrates 42 b 36, 43 a 28, 44 b i5-

Hissing 6g }) 17, 7o a 8f.

Hoarfrost 47 a 16 b 33, 49* 10,

78*31, 88 b l2.
Homer 5l b 35-
Homogeneous bodies 84 b 30, 85 a

10, 88 a ii, 13, 25, 89 b 24f., 27,

90% 15.

Honey 83*5, 84 a i5,85 b 2,88 b io,23.
Horizon 43 a 18, 32, b 16, 63* 27,

65*29, 75 b 27, 76 b 22, 29, 32,

77 a 8.
Horn 83 a 32, 84 b i, 85 b ii, 88 b 3i,

8 a ii.

Hurricane 65* I, 3, 66 b 33, 69* 19,

7o b 8 -7i b i7.
Hyrcanian sea 54*3.

Ice 47 b 36, 48 a 32, b 34, 36, 49 a 2,
62 a 5, 85 a 3 2, b 7, 86* 10, 87*19,
22, 88 b ii, 16.

Impact 86 b I.

Impressing 85* 15, 86 a 17-29,

b 22f., 87 a l.

Inachus 5o b 16.

Inconcoction (indigestion) 79 b 13,

8o a 6, 9, 8i a i2, 13, b 2o, cf. 57 b

9, 79 a 2, 80*28, 8i b 9.
India 62 b 2i, 28.
Indus 5o a 25.
Inflammable 87 b 18-32.
Iron 78 a 28, 83 a 3i f., b 4, 84 b 14,

8 5 b ii, 86 b io, 33, 88 a i 4 , b 3i,
a

Istrus 5o b 2f., 9,
Italy 67 a 7.

Jupiter 43 b 3-

Land, relation of, to sea 5 i a 21.
Lead 49 a 2, 85 a 32, 89 a 8.
Leguminous plants 89 a 15.
Libya so 1 ii, 52 b 32, S^ 3, 63*5.
Light 42 b 6, 15, 45 a 26, 28, 31,

h 29, 46 a 24, 67 b 22, 74 a 27.
Lightning 64 b 30, 32, 69 a 10 70*

33 70 b 7, 7i b i4-
Liguria 5i a 16, 68 b 32.
Lime 83 b 8, 89 a 28.
Lipara 67* 6.

Lips 63 b 19, 23, 64 a 16, b 2, 18, 25.
Lye57 b i,58 b 9, 59 b 7, 12, 78 a 25,

84*13,89*10,27.
Lyncus 59 b 17.

Maeotis 50*25, 53*1, 54*13, 17,

20, 62 b 22.

Malleable 78*27, 85* 16, b 10, 86 b
18-25.

Marrow 89 b 10.

Material cause 39* 28, 42* 28.

Matter, ratio of active powers
to 78^33; the other elements
matter relatively to fire 79 a 16;
concoction ensues when matter
is mastered b 32 ; the passive
qualities the natural matter of
a thing 8o a 8 ; earth and water
the matter of all bodies 82 a 7 ;
the dry and the moist are matter
89 a 30 ; the end least obvious
where matter predominates

INDEX

most 90* 3 ; pure matter a 5 ;
knowledge of cause = know
ledge of matter or form or both,
and of efficient cause b 17.
Melting 8i b 28, 82 b 29, 83*26
b i7, 4 b 14-23,85* 12, 27 b I,

b 12-26, 87 b 25 f., 31, 88 b 32f.,
89*9, 19,21.

Memphis 52*1.

Mercury 42 b 33-

Meses 63 b 3o, 34, 64*15, b 2i, 31.

Metals 78*21.

Meteorologists 54* 29.

Meteorology 38* 26.

Milk 8o b 8, 32, 8i a 7, 82 b i2, 83*
22, 84* 16, 24, 30, 88* 31, 9o b 2.

Milky way 38 b 22, 39*34, 42 b 25,
45*9, II 46 b i5.

Mill-stone 83 b 7, 12.

Mirror which reflects colour, not
shape 42 b 12, 72*33 ; air acting
as 73 b 8 ; particle of rain a better
mirror than mist b 1 5 ; cloud
acting as b 22.

Mist46 b 33, 35&gt;6i*28,67 b i7,73*
I, b !2, 17, 74*7, 1 8, 77 b i9.

Moisture in and on the earth 4i b
9 ; attracted by comet 43* 3 ;
surrounding earth 46 b 24, 57* 7 ;
the same places not always
moist 52 b 1 8 ; drawn up by sun
57 b 2o; in something dry, the
condition of evaporation 62 a 10 ;
of air 74* 24 ; acquires cer
tain properties or magnitude
through being heated 79" 27, cf.
8o b 27 ; concoction ensues when
moisture is mastered 79 b 32 ;
undetermined 80* 29 ; existing
separately 82 b 19 ; aqueous 85"
I ; weaker than fire 87* 20.

Molon 43 b 5.

Moon, eclipses of 67 b 2O.

Moulding 85* 15, 86*27, 29.

Mountains 41*1, 47*29, 50*3-5,
15, 19, 20, 29, b i, 5, 11, 14,21,
27, 52 b io, 56 14.

Mud 83*29, b 9, 85*31, 86 b 25.

Must 79 b 3o, 8o b 32, 84*5, 85 b 3.

Mycenae 52*9, n.

Myrrh 88 b 20, 89* 13.

Natron 83 b 12, 19, 84* 18, 34, 85*
31, b 9, 1 6, 23, 88 b i3, 89*18.

Nature as formal cause 79 b 25 ; art
imitates nature 8 i b 6 ; 3Cart9o b
14.

Nessus 5o b 16.

Nicomachus 45* 2.

Night the shadow of the earth

45 b 7-

Nile 5o b 14, 5i b 30, 53* 16, 56 a 28.
Nyses 5o b i2.

Ocean 47 a 6.

Ochre 78 a 23.

Oil 81* 8, 82 b 16, 83 b i4, 21, 28,

84*16, 85 b 4 , 87 b 7, 10, 22, 88*

5, 9,32, * io.
Orion 43 b 24, 6i b 23, 30.

Palestine 59 a 17.

Parnassus 5o a 19.

Peloponnesus 5i a 2.

Phaedo 55 b 32.

Phaethon 45* 15.

Phasis 5o a 28.

Phlegm 8o a 2i, 84*32, 86 b 16.

Phlegraean plain 68 b 3l.

Phoenicias 64*4, 17.

Pillars of Heracles 5o b 3, 54*3,

12, 22, 62 b 2I, 28.

Pindus 5o b 1 5.

Pitch 82 b 1 6, 85 b 5, 87 b 22, 88* 4, 9.

Planet 42 b 28, 31, 43 b 29, 44 a 3 6 ,

45 b 28,46 a 2, 12.
Plants 39*7, 5i a 27, 78 b 3i, 8 4 b

31, 88 a i6, 19, 90*17, b 2i.
Pole 62*33, "4, 31, 63*8, 76 a i8,

b 8, 31,77*1, io.
Pontus 47 a 36, b 4, 48 b 34, 5l a i2,

54 a i4, 20, 67*1.
Pore 8i b i, 3, 85 a 29, b 2O, 24, 25,

86*15, b 2, 4-6,9,87*2, 19,21.
Potter s clay, pottery 83 a 2i, 24,

b u, 20, 84*34, b 2, 19, 85*30,

b 9, 28, 86 a n, 18,23, b 26,88 b

12, 18.

Pressure 86 a 19, 33, b S.
Putrefaction 79 a 3 b 9, 89 b 8.
Pyrene 5o b i.
Pyrimachus 83 b 5.
Pythagoreans 42 b 3O, 45 a 14.

Rain 46 b 35, 47 a 12, b 17 f., 31, 49 a

4,9, 32,

28, 6o b 6, 8, 27-29, 6i b io f., 65*

22, b io,24,66 b 3, 9, 68 b i7, 7o b

12, 16, 72 b 24.
Rainbow 7i b i8, 26, 32, 72 a 9, 21,

73 a 2,3277*28.
Rawness 79 b 13, 80*27, 30 f., b 4,

12, 8l b 2I.

Realgar 78* 23.

INDEX

Recoil 48 b 2, 49* 8.

Red Sea 52 b 23, 54*2.

Reflection by air 42 b 6 ; comet s
tail not due to 43* 26 ; colour of
halo due to 44 b 7 ; r. of sight to
sun 45 b io, 20, 72 b i5, 73 b 33,
cf. ib. 21 ; haloes, rainbows, c.,
are reflections 46* 5, 72* 18, 73 b
31, 74*8; theory of 70*16;
lightning believed to be a r. ib.
23; diminishes vision 74 b 21 ;
weakened by distance 75* 34 ;
causes sun s true colour to
appear in mock-sun 77 b 18.

Refrigeration, things solidified
by 88 b 1 3 ; amber and tears
formed by b 19, 89* 17 ; blood
solidifies by 89* 20.

Rennet 84*21, 89 b 10.

Rheum 79 b 32.

Rhipae 5o b 7.

Rhodamis 51* 16, 18.

Rhodope 5o b i8.

Ripening 79 b 1 2, 80*11-13, 16, 21,
26, 28, 30, b 4, II, 8i b 2o.

Rivers, origin of 49 b 2 51*18;
their effect on land surface 51*
20; Plato s theory of 5$ b 32

56*33-
Rods 70* 13, 7i b i9, 72* ii, 74 a

17, 77 a 2978 a i4.
Ruddle 78* 23.

Salt 59*13,29, 32, b 4, 83 b 13, 20,
84 a i8, 85*31, b 9, I6,88 b i3, 15,
89*18.

Saltness

, 542,

4, 57

5, 1 6, b 7, 22, 58*4, 59*5.

Sardinian sea 54*21.

Sciron 63 b 25.

Scombrus 5o b 17.

Scythia 5o b 7, 59 b 18, 62 b 22.

Sea, advance and retreat of 53*
22 f. ; thought to be the original
of all water 54 b 3 ; the end, not
the source, of water 56*35 ; cools
evaporations 68 b 33.

Sellus 52 b 2.

Semen 89* 19, 22, b 10, 9o b 16.

Serum 84*32, 89* 10.

Sesostris 52 b 26.

Shooting-stars 41* 33, b 2, 28, 34,
42*7, 27, b 4,21, 44 a 15, 28,46 b

12.

Sicania 59 b 15.
Sicilian sea 54*21.
Sicily 59 b 15, 66*26.

Silver 84 b 32, 8s b 4, 88* 14, 89*7,
90*17, b 12.

Silver Mountain 5o b 14.

Sinew 85*8, 86 b 14, 88* 17, 89* 12,
90*19, b 5.

Sipylus 68 b 3l.

Skin 88*17.

Smoke, stars look crimsonthrough
42 b 10, cf. 1 9 ; green wood gives
most 6 1* 19; is exhalation and
burns 71*33 ; = fumes of woody
body 87* 32, 88* 2 ; flame is
burning smoke 88* 2.

Snow 47 b 13, 16, 23, 30, 48*3, 22,
49 a 9, 59 a 33, 62*18, 64*8, 69 b

31, 71*8, 88 b n.
Soft 82*11-21.

Softening by heat 84 b 1, 16, 85* 13,

b 6-i2, 88 b 30, 89*17.
Softening by water 85* 13, b i2-

26.
Solidification 82*25, b 3i, 84 b 23,

85* 12, 20 b 5, 88*28.
Solstice, summer 43*15, b i, 62*

12, 31 ; winter 43 b 6, 62* 22 ;

solstices thought to be caused

by air 55*25.
Soluble 83 b io, 13, 84 a 34.
Soot 74*24, 26, 87 b 6, 88*4.
Sponge 50*7, 86*28, b 5, 7, 17.
Spring 47 b 37, 48 b 26, 28, 65* 2,

66 b 2.
Springs 50*5, b 28, 30, 34, 5i b i,

53 a 35, b i7, 20, 22, 27, 31,54*5,

32, 5 5 b 35, 56*29, 59*25, 30, b 5,
8, 17, 60*33; hot 66*28.

Squeezing 8 5* 1 5, 86* 29 b 24, 87*

15-17.

Stalactites 88 b 26, 89*14.
Stars, why they heat the earth 40*

21 ; heat of * 28 ; at rising and

setting look crimson 42" 10;

fixed 43 b 9, 29, 44* 36, 46* 2 ;

in milky way 45 b 19, 46* 10, 19,

25, 27 ; milky way due to motion

of 46* 26.
Stone (meteorite) 44 32 ; fall of

stones after earthquake 68 b 28 ;

insoluble stones 89* 1 8.
Straightening 85 b 27, 66* 7 f.
Strymon 5o b 16.
Sulphur 78*23.
Summer 48* 18, b 26, 28, 49* 5, b 8,

61*13, b 32, 66 b 4, 79 a 29J late

summer 48* I, b 3o.
Sun, heat derived from 41*13;

sun s motion enough to account

INDEX

for terrestrial warmth ib. 20;
hottest of the stars ib. 35;
tropics dried up by 43* 9, 63* 14 ;
draws up moisture on surface of
earth 6o a 7 ; regions unvisited
by 6i a 7 ; sun at full force shuts
evaporation into earth 66* 16 ;
night calmer than day owing to
absence of 66 a 1 7 ; mock sun 7 1 b
19, ;2 10, 16, 77 a 29 f. 78 a 14.

Tanais 5o a 24, 53* 16.

Tartarus 56*1, 18.

Tartessus 5o b 2.

Tears 79 b 3i.

Tears 8S b i9, 89^4.

Thebes 5i b 34-

Theogonies 53 a 35.

Thickening 83 a n.

Thrascias 63 b 29, 64* I, 14, b 4, 22,

29, 6s a 3, 7.
Thunder 69*10, 29, b i, 3, 8, 17,

19, 29,70*22,24, 27, 31,33, b 7,

7i b u, 14.
Thunderbolt 39 a 3, 42 a 13, 69* II,

19,71*19, b 8, 15-
Tin 88 a i4, 8g a 8.
Torches 41 b 3, 28, 32, 42 b 3, 16,

44 a 26.
Tractile 85* 16, b 10, 86 b 11-18,

87 a ii.

Tractility 9O b 7.
Trenches 42* 36.
Trojan wars 52* lo.
Tropics 43 a 9, 14, 45*6, 46 a 14, 1 8,

62 b 2.

Twins (constellation) 43 b 3i.
Tyrrhenic sea 54 a 21.

Umbria 59*35.

Urine 57 b 2, 8o a I, b 5, 82 b 13, 84 a
13, 89*10, 27, cf. 66 b 19.

Vapour, what surrounds the earth
40*34; = water dissolved l) 3,
46 b 32 ; moist and cold 4O b 27 ;
when cooled becomes water 46 b
29, 47 b 18, 6o a 2, 84 a 6; flows
upwards when sun is near 47*
4 ; when frozen = hoar-frost
a 1 6, b 24 ; dew and hoar-frost
due to its not rising high b 28 ;
south wind carries little 58*31 ;
Caecias carries much 64 b 29 ;
combination with dry exhala
tion causes fine weather 72 b 32 ;
defined 87*25.

Vinegar 59 16, 84* 13, 89* 10.
Viscosity 82 b 14, 16, 83 b 34, 84* 2,

Water, affections common to air
and water 38 b 24 ; does not exist
independently 39 b 9 ; dissolves
into air 40* 10, 24 ; vapour =
water dissolved b 3, 46 b 32 ; and
earth, the heaviest and coldest
elements 40^ 20 ; vapour poten
tially like water b 28 ; does not
freeze on earth as in the clouds
47 b i i ; flowing X stationary 5 3 b
18; the water that has been
carried up comes down again
55* 26 ; dries more quickly when
spread out b 25 ; sea = totality of
river- water 57* 21 ; acid water
59 b i4; matter which might have
become water 78* 33 ; alone of
liquids does not thicken 8o a 34 ;
ebony does not float in 84 b 17 ;
water boiled or strained through
ashes contains foreign heat 89 b
i ; bodies chiefly consisting of
water are cold b 16.

Wax 86*17, 21, b 8, 25,87 b 22, 88*
3,89*1.

Weather, fine (warm) 46 34, 47 a
22, b i, 2, 5, 72 b l9, 29,33.

Whey 81* 7, 82 b 13, 84 a 14, 20,
22f., 89*10.

Whirlwind 39* 3, 69 a lo, 71* 2 f., 9,
b !5.

Wind, causes of 38 b 26 ; originates
in marshy districts 4o b 36 ; does
not blow above level of highest
mountains b 37 ; prevents forma
tion of dew and hoar-frost 47 a
27 ; theories of 49* 16 b 2 ; the
south the wannest wind 58 a 29 ;
causes of wind 59 b 27 63*20;
ceases when rain comes on 6o b
29 ; north and south winds
predominate 6i a 5, 20 ; both
checked and stimulated by sun
b !4; white south winds 62*
14 ; north wind blows from
arctic regions a 16 ; ordering of
winds in southern hemisphere
b 32 ; north wind like a land
breeze 63* I ; south wind blows
from torrid region a 12 ; direc
tion, number, concomitants, and
natures of the winds *2i 65*
13 ; true north wind 63 h 14, 64*

INDEX

13 ; north winds overpower
other winds 64 b 7 ; wind in our
bodies 66 b i6; premonitory in
dication of south wind 67*
13 ; winds before eclipses b 25 ;
severity of earthquake deter
mined by quantity of wind 68 :i
I, b 22 ; breaking up of halo y c -&gt;a,

a sign of wind 7 2 b 26, 73*24; Year great * 2 -&gt;

rain in 6o a 2 ; in the north is

windless 6i b 5.
Wood consists of earth and air

8 4 b i5.
Wool 75* 26, 82 b 12, 8s b 14, 18, 86 a

28, b 16,25, 8 7 a i8.

Wine 58 b i9, 82 b i3, 84*4, 13, 7 b

9, i if., 88 a 33, b 2, 10,89*9,27.

Winter, great 52*31; why more

Zephyrus 63 b i2, 64 b 3, 23, 65" 8,

cf. 63 a 7, 64 a 18.
Zodiac 43 a 24, 45*20. 46*12.

Printed in England at the Oxford University Press

DE MUN DO

E. S. FORSTER

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
1914

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK
TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY

HUMPHREY MILFORD M.A.

PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY

PREFACE

THIS interesting little treatise has no claim to be
regarded as a genuine work of Aristotle. In his careful
examination of it (Neue Jahrbiicher, xv (1905), pp. 529-68)
Wilhelm Capelle has traced most of its doctrines to Posei-
donius, and comes to the conclusion that it is a popular
philosophic treatise founded on two works of Poseidonius,
the MeTtdopoXoytKT) oroi^e/coo-iy an d the Ilepl KOCT^JLOV.

The treatise is addressed to Alexander, who must either
be Alexander the Great (in which case the author doubtless
wished to have his work attributed to Aristotle, and there
fore addressed it to Aristotle s most distinguished pupil),
or else some other Alexander must be intended. From
the fact that he is spoken of in 39i b 6 as fjyefj.ovcoi dpia-ros,
it has been supposed that Tiberius Claudius Alexander,
nephew of Philo Judaeus and Procurator of Judaea, and in
A. D. 67 Prefect of Egypt, is intended. In this case the
treatise must be dated early in the second half of the first
century A. D. Capelle, however (1. c. p. 567), dates it in the
first half of the second century A. D.

The description of the natural phenomena of the universe
is the most Aristotelian portion of the work, and many close
parallels are to be found in the Meteor ologica. It has been
thought better not to multiply references to the Meteoro-
logica in this part of the treatise, but a certain number of
references have been added in other places.

The text used for this translation is that of Bekker in the
Berlin edition. A complete account of the literature upon
the DC Mundo will be found in Capelle s article (1. c. p. 532).
I have to thank Mr. W. D. Ross, who read the translation
in manuscript and in proof, and my colleague, Professor
W.C. Summers, who read the greater part of it in manuscript,
both of whom made a number of valuable suggestions.

THE UNIVERSITY, SHEFFIELD,
Dec. 2, 1913.

CONTENTS

CHAP.

i. Introduction.

2. The elements of the Universe : Ether, Fire and Air.

3. Earth and Sea.

4. The natural phenomena.

5. The position of God in the Universe.

6. 7. God and His attributes.

DE MUNDO

[ MANY a time, Alexander l , has Philosophy seemed to me 39 1 *
a thing truly divine and supernatural, especially when in
solitude she soars to the contemplation of things universal
and strive^ to recognize the truth that is in them, and
while all others abstain from the pursuit of this truth
owing to its sublimity and vastness, she has not shrunk 5
from the task. nor thought herself unworthy of the fairest
pursuits, but has deemed the knowledge of such things at
once most natural to herself and most fitting. For seeing
that it was not possible (as once the foolish Aloadae 2
attempted) by means of the body to reach the heavenly
region and leaving the earth behind to spy out that 10
heavenly country, the soul by means of philosophy, taking
the intellect as her guide, finding an easy path has tra
versed the intervening space and fared forth on its pilgrim
age, and by intelligence comprehended things very far
removed in space from one another, easily, methinks,
recognizing those things which have kinship with one
another, and by the divine eye of the soul apprehending 15
things divine and interpreting them to mankind. This
she felt, being desirous, as far as in her lay, freely to give
to all men a share of her treasures. And so men who
have laboriously described to us either the nature of a
single region or the plan of a single city or the dimensions
of a river or the scenery of a mountain, as some ere now 20
have done, telling of Ossa or Nysa or the Corycian
cave 3 or giving us some other limited description, such
men one should pity for their small-mindedness in admir
ing ordinary things and making much of some quite
insignificant spectacle. They are thus affected because they
have never contemplated what is nobler the Universe 25
1 See preface. 2 Otus and Ephialtes. 3 Paus. x. 32. 2.

39i a DE MUNDO

and the greatest things of the Universe ; for if they
had really given attention to these things, they would
3gi b never marvel at anything else, but all else would appear
insignificant and, compared to the surpassing excellence
of those other things, of no account. Let us therefore
treat of all these matters and, as far as possible, inquire
into their divine nature, and discuss the nature and position
5 and movement of each of them. And I think that it is
but fitting that even you, who are the noblest of rulers.
should pursue the inquiry into the greatest of all subjects
and in philosophy entertain no trivial" thoughts, and make
the noblest among men welcome to these only of her gifts.

The Universe then is a system made up of heaven and a

10 earth and the elements which are contained in them. But
the word is also used in another sense of the ordering
and arrangement of all things, preserved by and through
God. 1 Of this Universe the centre, which is immovable
and fixed, is occupied by the life-bearing earth, the home
and the mother of diverse creatures. The upper portion

15 of the Universe has fixed bounds on every side, the highest
part of it being called Heaven, the abode of the gods.
Heaven is full of divine bodies, which we usually call
stars, and moves with a continual motion in one orbit, and
revolves in stately measure with all the heavenly bodies
unceasingly for ever. The whole heaven and universe being

30 spherical and moving, as I have said, continually, there
must of necessity be two points which do not move, exactly
* opposite to one another (as in the revolving wheel of
a turner s lathe), points which remain fixed and hold the
sphere together and round which the whole universe moves.
The universe therefore revolves in a circle and the points

25 are called poles. If we imagine a straight line drawn so

as to join them (the axis, as it is sometimes called), it will

form the diameter of the Universe, occupying the centre

3Q2 a f tne earth, with the two poles as its extremities. Of

1 Reading with W. Capelle, Neue Jahrb. xv (1905), p. 535, \mb
teal 8ia 6(6v : Bekker s reading, VTTO $eo&gt;j&gt; re K&lt;U 8m tic&v, contradicts the
pantheistic character of the treatise. R reads dia 0eoV, Q 8t 0eov.

CHAPTER 2 3Q2 a

these fixed poles the one is always visible, being at the
summit of the axis in the northern region of the sky, and
is called the Arctic Pole l ; the other is always hidden
beneath the earth to the south and is called the Antarctic
Pole.

The substance of the heaven and stars we call Ether, 2 5
not because it blazes, owing to its fiery nature (as some
explain the word, mistaking its nature, which is very far
removed from fire), but because it is in continual motion, 3
revolving in a circle, being an element other than the four
indestructible and divine. Of the stars which are con
tained in it, those called fixed revolve only with the 10
whole heaven, always occupying the same positions. A
belt is formed through their midst by the so-called Circle
of the Zodiac, which passes crosswise through the tropics,
being divided up into the twelve regions of the Signs of
the Zodiac. Others, which are called planets , do not
naturally move with the same velocity as those stars of
which I have already spoken, nor with the same velocity 15
as one another, but each in a different course, so that one
will be nearer the earth, another higher in the heavens.
Now the number of the fixed stars cannot be ascertained
by man, although they move in one surface, which is that
of the whole heaven. But the planets fall into seven
divisions in seven successive circles, so situated that the 20
higher is always greater than the lower, and the seven circles
are successively encompassed by one another and are all
surrounded by the sphere containing the fixed stars. The
position nearest to this sphere is occupied by the so-called
circle of the Shining star , or Cronos; next is that of the
Beaming star , which also bears the name of Zeus ; then
follows the circle of the Fiery star , called by the names 25
both of Heracles and of Ares ; next comes the Glistening
star , which some call sacred to Hermes, others sacred

1 Arctic and * Antarctic arc not Aristotelian terms; cp. Meteor.
362*32,33, 363 a 34, b 4, 3i.

2 Cp. Meteor. 339 b 196*.

3 i.e. aid ftp, ether , is here derived not from ufrWd.K, to blaze , but
from del 6tlv, to be in continual motion ; cp. Plat. Craf. 4106, and
de Caelo 270^22.

B 2

392 a DE MUNDO

to Apollo ; after that is the circle of the * Light-bearing
star , which some call the star of Aphrodite, others the
star of Hera ; then comes the circle of the Sun, and lastly
that of the Moon, which borders on the Earth. The ether

3 encompasses the heavenly bodies and the area over which
they are ordained to move.

After the Ethereal and Divine Element, which we have
shown to be governed by fixed laws and to be, moreover,
free from disturbance, change, and external influence, there
follows immediately an element which is subject through
out to external influence and disturbance and is, in a word,

35 corruptible and perishable. In the outer portion of this

occurs the substance which is made up of small particles

3Q2 b and is fiery, being kindled by the ethereal element owing

to its superior size and the rapidity of its movement. In

this so-called Fiery and Disordered Element flashes shoot

and fires dart, and so-called beams l and pits 2 and

comets have their fixed position and often become extin-

5 guished.

Next beneath this spreads the air, which is in its nature
murky and cold as ice, but becomes illuminated and set
on fire by motion, 3 and thus grows brighter and warm.
And since the air too admits of influence and undergoes

10 every kind of change, clouds form in it, rain-storms beat
down, and snow, hoar-frost, hail with blasts of winds and
of hurricanes, and thunder too and lightning and falling
bolts, and the crashing together of countless opaque bodies.

Next to the aerial element the earth and sea have 3
15 their fixed position, teeming with plant and animal life,
and fountains and rivers, either winding over the earth or
discharging their waters into the sea. The earth is diver
sified by countless kinds of verdure and lofty mountains
and densely wooded copses and cities, which that intelli
gent animal man has founded, and islands set in the

1 trabcs of Seneca, Quaesf. Nat. i. I. 5, vii. 4. 3, Epp. 94. 56 ; Plin. ii.
26. 26.

2 Cp. Seneca. Quaest. Nat. i. 14. I.

3 Q reads &lt;eii&gt;T]s for Kiv^a-fvs : Capelle, /. c., p. 536, adopts eVftV^f,
but cp. above, 1. 2.

CHAPTER 3 392 1

sea and continents. Now the usual account divides the 20
inhabited world into islands and continents, ignoring the
fact that the whole of it forms a single island round which
the sea that is called Atlantic flows. But. it is probable
that there are many other continents separated from ours
by a se.a that we must cross to reach them, some larger and
others smaller than it, but all, save our own, invisible to
us. For as our islands are in relation to our seas, so is 25
the inhabited world in relation to the Atlantic, and so
are many other continents in relation to the whole sea;
for they are as it were immense islands surrounded by
immense seas. The general element of moisture, covering
the earth s surface and allowing the so-called inhabited 30
countries to rise in patches as it were of dry land, may
be said to come immediately after the aerial element. Next
to it the whole earth has been formed, firmly fixed in the
lowest position at the midmost centre of the Universe,
closely compacted, immovable and unshakable. This l
forms the whole of what we call the lower portion of the 35
Universe.

Thus then five elements, situated in spheres in five 393*
regions,- the less being in each case surrounded by the
greater namely, earth surrounded by water, water by
air, air by fire, and fire by ether make up the whole
Universe. All the upper portion represents the dwelling
of the gods, the lower the abode of mortal creatures. Of 5
the latter, part is rnoist, to which we are accustomed to give
the names of rivers, springs, and seas ; while part is dry,
which we call land and continents and islands.

Of the islands, some are large, like the whole of what we
call the inhabited world (and there are many other such 10
surrounded by mighty seas) ; other islands are smaller,
which are visible to us and in our own sea. Of these
some are of considerable size, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica,
Crete, Euboea, Cyprus, and Lesbos ; others are less ex
tensive, such as the Sporades and Cyclades and others 15
bearing various names.

Again, the sea which lies outside the inhabited world

1 i. e. the earth and sea. 2 Cp. Meteor. 34o b 19 ff., 341 a 2 ff.

393 a DE MUNDO

is called the Atlantic or Ocean, flowing round us. Open
ing in a narrow passage towards the West, at the so-called
Pillars of Heracles, the Ocean forms a current into the

20 inner sea, as into a harbour ; then gradually expanding it
spreads out, embracing great bays adjoining one another,
opening into other seas by narrow straits and then
widening out again. First, then, on the right as one sails
in through the Pillars of Heracles it is said to form two

25 bays, the so-called Syrtes, the Greater and the Lesser
as they are called ; on the other side it does not make
such bays, but forms three seas, the Sardinian, the Gallic,
and the Adriatic. Next to these comes the Sicilian sea,
lying crosswise, and after it the Cretan. Continuing it
come the Egyptian, Pamphylian, and Syrian seas in one

30 direction, and the Aegean and Myrtoan seas in the other.
Over against the seas already mentioned extends the
Pontus, which is made up of several parts ; the innermost
portion is called Maeotis, while the outer portion in the
393 b direction of the Hellespont is connected by a strait with
the so-called Propontis. Towards the East the Ocean
again flows in and opens up the Indian 1 and Persian
Gulfs, and displays the Erythraean sea- continuous with
these, embracing all three. 3 With its other branch it passes
5 through a long narrow strait and then expands again bound
ing the Hyrcanian and Caspian country. Beyond this
it occupies the large tract beyond the Lake of Maeotis ;
then beyond the Scythians and the land of the Celts
it gradually confines the width of the habitable world, as

10 it approaches the Gallic Gulf and the Pillars of Heracles
already mentioned, outside which the Ocean flows round
the earth. In this sea are situated two very large islands,
the so-called British Isles, Albion and lerne, which are
greater than any which we have yet mentioned and lie
beyond the land of the Celts. (The island of Taprobane 4

15 opposite India, situated at an angle to the inhabited world,
is quite as large as the British Isles, as also is the island

1 The Gulf of Cutch or the Gulf of Cambay.

2 The Arabian Sea.

3 For the use of fiifiA^d* cp. 396* 31 and L. and S., s. ? ., ii. I, 2.

4 Ceylon, cp. Strabo, xv. 14 (p. 690).

CHAPTER 3 393"

called Phebol 1 which lies over against the Arabian Gulf. 2 )
There is a large number of small islands round the British
Isles and Iberia, forming a belt round the inhabited world,
which as we have already said is itself an island. The
width of the inhabited world at the greatest extent of its
mainland is rather less than 40,000 stades, so the best 20
geographers say, and its length about 70,000 stades." It
is divided into Europe, Asia, and Libya.

Europe is the tract bounded in a circle by the Pillars
of Heracles, the inner recesses of the Pontus, and the
Hyrcanian sea, where a very narrow isthmus stretches to
the Pontus. Some have held that the river Tanais carries 25
on the boundary from this isthmus. Asia extends from
the said isthmus and the Pontus and the Hyrcanian sea
to the other isthmus which lies between the Arabian Gulf 2
and the inner sea, being surrounded by the inner sea and
the Ocean which flows round the world. Some, however,
define the bounds of Asia as from the Tanais to the 30
mouths of the Nile. Libya extends from the Arabian
isthmus to the Pillars of Heracles ; though some describe
it as stretching from the Nile to the Pillars ; Egypt, which 394 a
is surrounded by the mouths of the Nile, is given by some
to Asia, by others to Libya ; some exclude the islands
from both continents, others attach them to their nearest
neighbour.

Such is our account of the nature of land and sea and 5
their position the inhabited world as we call it.

4 Let us now deal with the most remarkable conditions
which are produced in and around the earth, summarizing
them in the barest outline. There are two kinds of exhala
tion 3 which rise continually from the earth into the air above
us, namely, those 4 composed of small particles and entirely 10
invisible, except when they occur in the east, and those
which rise from rivers and streams and are visible. Of
these the former kind being given off from the earth is
dry and resembles smoke, while the latter being exhaled
from the element of moisture is damp and vaporous. From

1 Capelle, 1. c., p. 559, suggests Madagascar. 2 The Red Sea.

5 Cp. Meteo? . 34i b 6ff. 4 Reading (at) ACTI-TO pf pels.

394 a DE MUNDO

15 the latter are produced mist and dew and the various
forms of frost, clouds and rain and snow and hail ; while
from the dry exhalation come the winds and the different
kinds of breezes, and thunder and lightning, and hurricanes
and thunderbolts, and all other cognate phenomena. Mist

20 is a vaporous exhalation which does not produce water,
denser than air but less dense than cloud ; it arises either
from the first beginnings of a cloud or else from the
remnant of a cloud. The contrary of this is what is called
a clear sky, being simply air free from cloud and mist.
Dew is moisture minute in composition falling from a clear

25 sky ; ice is water congealed in a condensed form from
a clear sky; hoar-frost is congealed dew, and dew-frost
is dew which is half congealed. Cloud is a vaporous mass,
concentrated and producing water. Rain is produced
from the compression of a closely condensed cloud, vary
ing according to the pressure exerted on the cloud ; when

30 the pressure is slight it scatters gentle drops ; when it is
great it produces a more violent fall, and we call this
a shower, being heavier than ordinary rain, and forming
continuous masses of water falling over earth. Snow is
produced by the breaking up of condensed clouds, the
cleavage taking place before the change into water ; it
is the process of cleavage which causes its resemblance to

35 foam and its intense whiteness, while the cause of its coldness

is the congelation of the moisture in it before it is dis-

394 b persed or rarefied. When snow is violent and falls heavily

we call it a blizzard. Hail is produced when snow becomes

densified and acquires impetus for a swifter fall from its

close mass; the weight becomes greater and the fall more

5 violent in proportion to the size of the broken fragments

of cloud. Such then are the phenomena which occur as

the result of moist exhalation.

From dry exhalation, impelled into motion by cold, is
produced wind ; for wind is merely a quantity of air set in
motion in a mass. Wind is also called breath, a word

10 used in another sense of the vital and generative substance
which is found in plants and living creatures, and permeates
all things ; but with this we need not deal here. The

CHAPTER 4

394

breath which breathes in the air we call wind, while to the
expirations from moisture we give the name of breezes.
The winds which blow from moist land we call land-
winds , those which spring up from gulfs we call gulf- 15
winds * ; somewhat similar to these are those which blow
from rivers and lakes. Winds which are produced by the
bursting of a cloud causing an expansion of its density in
their own direction, 1 are called * cloud-winds . Those
which are accompanied by a mass of water breaking forth
are called rain-winds .

The winds 2 which blow continuously from the rising sun
are called Euri ; those from the north, Boreae ; those from 20
the setting sun, Zephyri ; those from the south, Noti. Of
the east winds, that which blows from the region of the
summer sunrise is called Caecias ; that which blows from
the region of the equinoctial sunrise is known as Apeliotes ;
while the name of Eurus is given to the wind which blows
from the quarter of the winter sunrise. Of the west winds,
on the other hand, that which blows from the summer 25
setting is Argestes, though some call it Olympias, 3 others

1 Lit. which cause a dissolution of its density against themselves .

2 The chart of the winds as given here is almost identical with that
given in de Vent. Sit. et Appellat. (973 a ~ b ).

*!&&amp;gt;

E.Apcliohe5 ZephyrusW

Boreas
N.

E.Apeliotea

DE MUNDO

DE VENT. 5IT.

The following are the other principal passages describing the winds
in classical authors : Aristot. Meteor. 363* 2-365* 13 ; Seneca, Ouaest.
Nat. v. 1 6 ; Pliny, ii. 119 ff, ; Joannes Lydus, de Mensibus iv. 1 19.

3 In de Vent. Sit. 973 b 2l Olympias is given as a synonym for
Thracias, not for Argestes as here.

394 b DE MUNDO

lapyx ; that which blows from the equinoctial setting is
Zephyrus, and that which blows from the winter setting
is Lips. Of the north winds (Boreae) that which is next
to Caecias is called Boreas in the specific sense of the
word. 1 Aparctias 2 is next to it, and blows in a southerly
30 direction from the pole. Thracias :j is the wind which
blows next to Argestes ; by some it is called Circias. 4 Of
the south winds, that which comes from the invisible pole
and immediately faces Aparctias is called Notus ; that
between Notus and Eurus is called Euronotus. The wind
on the other side between Lips and Notus is called by some
Libonotus, by others Libophoenix.

35 Some winds are direct, those, that is, which blow along
a straight line ; others follow a bending course, as for
395 instance the wind called Caecias. 5 Some winds hold sway
in the winter, the south winds for example ; others in the
summer, such as the Etesian winds (Trade winds), which
are a mixture of northerly and westerly winds. The
so-called Ornithian G winds, which occur in the spring, are
a northerly type of wind.

5 Of violent blasts of wind, a squall is one which suddenly
strikes down from above ; a gust is a violent blast which
springs up in a moment ; a whirlwind, or tornado, is a
wind which revolves in an upward direction from below.
An eruption of wind from the earth is a blast caused by
the emission of air from a deep hole or cleft ; when it
10 comes forth in a whirling mass it is called an earth-storm .
A wind which is whirled along in a dense watery cloud
"and being driven forth 7 through it violently breaks up the
continuous masses of the cloud, causes a roar and crash,
which we call thunder, similar to the noise made by wind

1 Called Meses in de Vent. Sit. 973*3-7, where see note.

2 Called Boreas in de Vent. Sit.

?l Reading QpaKias (R Gpanias ): cp. de Vent. Sit. 973* 17.

4 Kam ay, the MS. reading, cannot possibly be right here, the name
having been already given to the N. E. wind (394 b 22). 1 therefore
read Kip/aW: cp. de Vent. Sit. 973 b 2O Qpaidas . . . eV St iraA/a KO\
t a Kip/any (emended by Rose for KipKas).

6 Cp. Meteor. 364* 12.

6 i.e. the winds which bring the birds of passage. . .

7 Reading cco0-&V for

CHAPTER 4 395

driven violently through water. When the wind in break
ing forth from a cloud catches fire and flashes it is called 15
lightning. The lightning reaches our perception sooner
than the thunder, though it actually occurs after it, since it
is the mature of that which is heard to travel less quickly
than that which is seen ; for the latter is visible at a
distance, while the former is only heard l when it reaches
the ear, especially since the one, the fiery element, travels
faster than anything else, while the other, being of the nature 20
of air, is less swift and only reaches the ear by actually
striking upon it. 2 If the flashing body is set on fire and
rushes violently to the earth it is called a thunderbolt ; if
it be only half of fire, but violent also and massive, it is
called a meteor ; if it is entirely free from fire, it is called
a smoking bolt. 3 They are all called * swooping bolts , 25
because they swoop down upon the earth. Lightning 4
is sometimes smoky, and is then called smouldering
lightning ; sometimes it darts quickly along, and is then
said to be vivid ; at other times it travels in crooked
lines, and is called forked lightning ; when it swoops
down upon some object it is called swooping lightning .

To sum up, some of the phenomena which occur in the
air are merely appearances, while others have actual sub- 30
stance and reality. Rainbows and streaks in the sky and
the like are only appearances, while flashes and shooting-
stars and comets and the like have real substance. A rain
bow is the reflection of a segment of the sun or of the moon,
seen, like an image in a mirror, in a cloud which is moist,
hollow, and continuous in appearance, and taking a circular 35

1 optafifvov is used in its proper sense in the clause in which it
stands, and by a sort of zeugma for aKouo/ucroi/ in the next clause.

2 Lightning is immediately seen by the eye, thunder can only be
perceived by the ear when the original movement has set up other
movements which eventually strike upon the ear. (Cp. de And.
Soo a 6-i2.)

3 Tixfxav cannot here be used (as in 400 a 29) of a violent storm ,
hurricane ; as applied to a thunderbolt, it seems to mean one which
smokes, and to be connected with the verb n ^eti/, to smoke .

4 The word Kepawns is used in Greek to mean either (i) a thunder
bolt , or (2) lightning , which were more, or less identified by the
Greeks. The context seems to show that it has the former meaning
in 395 a 22, the latter in this passage.

395 a DE MUNDO

form. A streak is a rainbow appearing in the form of a
straight line. A halo is an appearance oT brightness shining
395 b roun&lt; ^ a s * ar &gt; it differs from a rainbow, because the latter
appears opposite the sun and moon, while the halo is formed
all round a star. A light in the sky is caused by the kindling
of a dense fire in the air ; some lights shoot along, others
5 are fixed. The shooting is the generation of fire by
friction, when the fire moves quickly through the air and
by its quickness produces an impression of length ; the
fixture is a prolonged extension without movement, an
elongated star as it were. A light which broadens out
towards one end is called a comet. Some heavenly lights

10 often last a considerable time, others are extinguished
immediately. There are numerous other peculiar kinds
of appearances seen in the sky, the so-called torches ,
beams , l barrels , and pits V which derive their names
from their similarity to these objects. Some of them
appear in the west, others in the east, others in both

15 these quarters, but rarely in the north or south. None of
them are subject to fixed laws ; for none of them have
been discovered to be always visible in a fixed position.
Such are the phenomena of the air.

As the earth contains many sources of water, so also it
contains many sources of wind and fire. Of these some

20 are subterranean and invisible, but many have vents and
spiracles, as Lipara, Etna, and the volcanoes of the Aeolian
islands. Some of them frequently flow like rivers and cast
up red-hot lumps. Some, which are under the earth near
springs of water, warm them and cause some streams to

25 flow- tepid, others very hot, others tempered to a pleasant
heat. Similarly, many vent-holes for wind open in every
part of the earth ; some of them cause those who draw
near to them to become frenzied, others cause them to
waste away, others inspire them to utter oracles, as at
Delphi and Lebadia, 2 others utterly destroy them, as the

30 one in Phrygia. 3 Often, too. a moderate wind engendered

1 Cp. 392 b 4-

2 Paus. ix. 39. 5 ; Strabo, ix. 2. 38 (p. 414) ; Philostratus, Vit.Apoll.
viii. 19.

3 Strabo, xiii. 4. u (p. 628).

CHAPTER 4 395 b

in the earth, being driven aside into distant holes and
crannies of the earth and displaced from its proper locality,
causes shocks in many parts. Often, too, a strong current
from without becomes involved in the hollows of the earth,
and, its exit being cut off, it shakes the earth violently,
seeking an exit, and sets up the condition which we com- 35
monly call an earthquake. Earthquakes of which the
shock is oblique, at a sharp angle, are known as horizontal 396*
earthquakes ; those which lift the earth up and down at
right angles are known as heaving earthquakes ; those
which cause the earth to settle down into hollows are called
gaping earthquakes ; those which open up chasms and
break up the earth s surface are called rending earth
quakes . Some of them also emit winds, others stones or 5
mud, while others cause springs to appear which did not
exist before. Some earthquakes cause a disturbance by
means of a single shock and are known as thrusting earth
quakes . Others which swing to and fro and by inclinations
and waves in each direction remedy the effect of their
shock, are called ( vibrating earthquakes , setting up a 10
condition which resembles trembling. There are also
bellowing earthquakes , which shake the earth with a roar.
Underground bellowing, however, is often heard unaccom
panied by shocks, when the wind, though insufficient
to cause a shock, is compressed together in the earth and
beats with the force of its impetus. Blasts which penetrate
into the earth are materialized also from moisture con- 15
cealed underground.

We find analogous phenomena occurring in the sea.
Chasms form in it and its waters often retire or the waves
rush in ; this is sometimes followed by a recoil and some
times there is merely a forward surge of water, as is said to 20
have occurred at Helice and Bura. 1 Often, too, there are
exhalations of fire from the sea, and springs gush out and
river-mouths are formed and trees suddenly grow up, and
currents and eddies appear, like those caused in the air by

1 An account of this tidal wave in northern Achaea in 373 B.C.
is given by Strabo, viii. 7. 2 (p. 384), and Pausanias (vii. 25. 8) ;
cp. also Meteor. 343** i, 17, 344 b 34, 368 b 6.

396 a DE MUNDO

25 blasts of wind, sometimes in the middle of the sea, some
times in straits and channels. Many tides and tidal waves
are said always to accompany the periods of the moon at
fixed intervals. In short, owing to the mingling of the
elements together, similar conditions are produced in the
30 air and in the earth and in the sea, causing decay and
generation in detail, but preserving the whole free from
destruction and generation.

Yet some have wondered how it is that the Universe, 5
if it be composed of contrary principles namely, dry and

35 moist, hot and cold has not long ago perished and been
3g6 b destroyed. 1 It is just as though one should wonder how
a city continues to exist, being, as it is, composed of
opposing classes rich and poor, young and old, weak and
strong, good and bad. They fail to notice that this has
always been the most striking characteristic of civic con-
5 cord, that it evolves unity out of plurality, and similarity
out of dissimilarity, while it admits every kind and variety.
It may perhaps be that nature has a liking for contraries
and evolves harmony out of them and not out of similarities
(just as she joins the male and female together and not

10 members of the same sex), and has devised the origi
nal harmony by means of contraries and not similarities.
The arts, too, apparently imitate nature in this respect.
The art of painting, by mingling in the picture the
elements of white and black, yellow and red, achieves

^representations which correspond to the original object.
Music, too, mingling together notes, high and low, short
and prolonged, attains to a single harmony amid different
voices ; while writing, mingling vowels and consonants,
composes of them all its art. The saying found in Hera-

20 cleitus * the obscure was to the same effect : Junctions
are : wholes and not wholes, that which agrees and that
which differs, that which produces harmony and that which
produces discord ; from all you get one and from one you
get all. 2

1 Cf. Seneca, Quaest. Nat. vii. 27. 3 ff.

2 Reading a-wcn/acr (O R) o\a xai ofy oAa (P) with Diels, Vorsokr?
i, p. 80, 1. 2.

CHAPTER 5 39 6 b

Thus then a single harmony orders the composition of
the whole heaven and earth and the whole Universe by
the mingling of the most contrary principles. The dry 25
mingling with the moist, the hot with the cold, the light
with the heavy, the straight with the curved, all the earth,
the sea, the ether, the sun, the moon, and the whole heaven
are ordered by a single power extending through all, which
has created the whole universe out of separate and different
elements air, earth, fire, and water embracing l them all 30
on one spherical surface and forcing the most contrary
natures to live in agreement with one another in the
universe, and thus contriving the permanence of the whole.
The cause of this permanence is the agreement of the
elements, and the reason of this agreement is their equal
proportion and the fact that no one of them is more 35
powerful than any other, for the heavy is equally balanced 397 a
with the light and the hot with the cold. Thus nature
teaches us in the greater principles of the world that
equality somehow tends to preserve harmony, whilst
harmony preserves the universe which is the parent of all
things and itself the fairest thing of all. For what created
thing is more excellent ? Any that one can name is but 5
a part of the ordered Universe. All that is beauteous bears
its name, and all that which is arranged well, for it is said
to be well * ordered , being thus called after the * ordered
Universe. 2 And what subordinate phenomenon could be
likened to the ordered system of the heavens and the
march of the stars and the sun and the moon, which move I0
on in unvarying measure through age after age ? Where
else could be found such regularity as is observed by the
goodly seasons, which produce all things and bring in due
order summer and winter, day and night, to the accomplish
ment of the month and the year ? Moreover, in greatness
the universe is pre-eminent, in motion swiftest, in radiance 15
most bright, and in might it knows not old age or corrup
tion. It has divided the various creatures that live in the sea,
on the earth, and in the air, and regulated their lives by its

1 For this use of omXa/^uW cp. 393 4 and note.

2 Cp. 39i b IO-H.

3Q7 a DE MUNDO

movements. Of it all living things breathe and have their

20 life. Even all the unexpected changes which occur in it are
really accomplished in an ordered sequence diverse winds
conflicting together, thunderbolts falling from heaven, and
violent storms bursting forth. The expulsion of moisture
and the exhalation of fire by these means restores the
whole to harmony and stability. The earth, too, clothed

25 with diverse vegetation, gushing forth with streams and
trodden by the feet of living creatures, in due season
bringing forth, nurturing, and receiving back all things,
producing countless varieties and changes, none the less
always preserves its nature untouched by age, though
shaken by earthquakes, washed. by floods, and in parts

3 o burnt up by fires. All these things seem to work its
welfare and to ensure its eternal permanence. For when
it is shaken by earthquakes, the winds which have t&gt;een
diverted into it escape forth, finding vents through the
clefts, as we have already said ; 1 when it is washed by rain,
it is cleansed of all that is unhealthy : and when the breezes

35 blow about it, it is purified above and beneath. Again,

397 b the fires soften that which is frost-bound, while the frosts

abate the fires. Of individual things upon the earth some

are coming into being, others are at their prime, others are

decaying ; and birth checks decay and decay lightens birth.

5 Thus an unbroken permanence, which all things conspire to
secure, counteracting one another at one time dominating,
at another being dominated preserves the whole unim
paired through all eternity.

There still remains for us to treat briefly, as we have 6

10 discussed the other subjects, of the cause which holds all

things together. For in dealing with the universe, not

perhaps in exact detail, yet at any rate so as to give a

general idea of the subject, it would be wrong to omit that

which is the most important thing in the universe. The

old explanation which we have all inherited from our

fathers, is that all things are from God and were framed

15 for us by God, and that no created thing is of itself sufficient

1 Cp. 395 b 2o.

CHAPTER 6 397 b

for itself, deprived of the permanence which it derives from
him. Therefore some of the ancients went so far as to
say that all those things are full of God which are pre
sented to us through the eyes and the hearing and all the
other senses, thus propounding a theory which, though it
accords with the divine power, does not accord with the 20
divine nature. For God is in very truth the preserver and
creator of all that is in any way being brought to perfection
in this universe; yet he endures not all the weariness of
a being that administers and labours, but exerts a power
which never wearies ; whereby he prevails even over things
which seem far distant from him. He hath himself ob
tained the first and highest place and is therefore called 25
Supreme, and has, in the words of the poet,

Taken his seat in heaven s topmost height ; 1

and the heavenly body which is nighest to him most
enjoys his power, and afterwards the next nearest, and so
on successively until the regions wherein we dwell are
reached. Wherefore the earth and the things upon the
earth, being farthest removed from the benefit which 30
proceeds from God, seem feeble and incoherent and full
of much confusion ; nevertheless, inasmuch as it is the
nature of the divine to penetrate to all things, the things
also of our earth receive their share of it, and the things
above us according to their nearness to or distance from 35
God receive more or less of divine benefit. It is therefore 39& a
better, even as it is more seemly and befitting God, to
suppose that the power which is stablished in the heavens
is the cause of permanence even in those things which
are furthest removed from it in a word, in all things,
rather than to hold that it passes forth and travels to and 5
fro to places which become and befit it not, and personally
administers the affairs of this earth. For indeed, to super
intend any and every operation does not become even the
rulers among mankind the chief, for example, of an army
or a city, or the head of a household, if it were necessary
to bind up a sack of bedding or perform any other some-

&c.

398 a DE MUNDO

10 what menial task, such as in the days of the Great King
would not be performed by any ordinary slave. Nay, we
are told that the outward show observed by Cambyses and
Xerxes and Darius was magnificently ordered with the
utmost state and splendour. The king himself, so the story
goes, established himself at Susa or Ecbatana, invisible to

15 all, dwelling in a wondrous palace within a fence gleaming
with gold and amber and ivory. And it had many gate
ways one after another, and porches many furlongs apart
from one another, secured by bronze doors and mighty
walls. Outside these the chief and most distinguished
men had their appointed place, some being the king s

20 personal servants, his bodyguard and attendants, others the
guardians of each of the enclosing walls, the so-called
janitors and listeners , that the king himself, who was
called their master and deity, might thus see and hear all
things. Besides these, others were appointed as stewards of

25 his revenues and leaders in war and hunting, and receivers
of gifts, and others charged with all the other necessary
functions. All the Empire of Asia, bounded on the west
by the Hellespont and on the east by the Indus, was
apportioned according to races among generals and satraps

30 and subject-princes of the Great King ; and there were
couriers and watchmen and messengers and superintendents
of signal-fires. So effective was the organization, in
particular the system of signal-fires, which formed a chain
of beacons from the furthest bounds of the empire to Susa
and Ecbatana, that the king received the same day the

35 news of all that was happening in Asia. Now we must
3g8 b suppose that the majesty of the Great King falls as far short
of that of the God who possesses the universe, as that of
the feeblest and weakest creature is inferior to that of the
king of Persia. Wherefore, if it was beneath the dignity
of Xerxes to appear himself to administer all things and
5 to carry out his own wishes and superintend the govern
ment of his kingdom, such functions would be still less
becoming for a god. Nay, it is more worthy of his dignity
and more befitting that he should be enthroned in the
highest region, and that his power, extending through the

CHAPTER 6 398 b

whole universe, should move the sun and moon and make
the whole heaven revolve and be the cause of permanence
to all that is on this earth. For he needs no contrivance 10
or the service of others, as our earthly rulers, owing to their
feebleness, need many hands to do their work ; but it is most
characteristic of the divine to be able to accomplish diverse
kinds of work with ease and by simple movement, even as
past masters of a craft by one turn of a machine accomplish 15
many different operations. And just as puppet-showmen
by pulling a single string make the neck and hand and
shoulder and eye and sometimes all the parts of the figure
move with a certain harmony ; so too the divine nature,
by simple movement of that which is nearest to it, imparts ^o
its power to that which next succeeds, and thence further
and further until it extends over all things. For one thing,
moved by another, itself in due order moves something
else, each acting according to its own constitution, and not
all following the same course but different and various and 25
sometimes even contrary courses ; although the first im
pulse, as it may be called, was directed to a single form of
motion. It is just as though one should cast from one
vessel at the same time a sphere, a cube, a cone, and a
cylinder ; each of them will move according to its particular
shape. Or if one should hold in the folds of a garment 30
a water-animal, a land-animal, and a bird, and let them go ;
clearly the animal that swims will leap into its own element
and swim away, the land-animal will creep away to its
own haunts and pastures, the bird of the air will raise itself
aloft from the earth and fly away, though one original
cause gave each its aptitude for movement. So is it with 35
the universe ; by a single revolution of the whole within 399 C
the bounds of day and night, the different orbits of all the
heavenly bodies are produced, though all are enclosed in
a single sphere, some moving more quickly, others more
slowly, according to the distances between them and the 5
individual composition of each. For the moon accomplishes
her circuit in a month, waxing and waning and disappearing ;
the sun and the heavenly bodies whose course is of equal
length, namely those called the Lightbearer and Hermes,

C 2

399 a DE MUNDO

perform their revolution in a year ; the Fiery star in

10 double that period ; the star of Zeus in six years ; and
lastly the so-called star of Cronos in a period two and a
half times as long as the heavenly body next below it.
The single harmony produced by all the heavenly bodies
singing and dancing together springs from one source and
ends by achieving one purpose, and has rightly bestowed
the name not of * disordered but of ordered universe

15 upon the whole. And just as in a chorus, when the leader
gives the signal to begin, the whole chorus of men, or it
may be of women, joins in the song, mingling a single
studied harmony among different voices, some high and
some low ; so too is it with the God that rules the whole
world. For at the signal given from on high by him who

20 may well be called their chorus-leader, the stars and the
whole heaven always move, and the sun that illumines all
things travels forth on his double course, whereby he both
divides clay and night by his rising and setting, and also
brings the four seasons of the year, as he moves forwards
towards the north and backwards towards the south. And
in their own due season the rain, the winds, and the dews,

25 and all the other phenomena which occur in the region
which surrounds the Earth, are produced by the first,
primaeval cause. These are followed by the flowing of
rivers, the swelling of the sea, the growth of trees, the
ripening of fruits, the birth of animals, the nurturing and
the prime and decay of all things, to which, as I have said,

30 their individual composition contributes. When, therefore,
the ruler and parent of all, invisible save to the mind of the
eye, gives the word to all nature that moves betwixt heaven
and earth, the whole revolves unceasingly in its own circuits
and within its own bounds, sometimes unseen and some
times appearing, revealing and again hiding diverse manners

35 of things, from one and the same cause. Very like is it to

399 b that which happens in times of war, when the trumpet

sounds to the army ; then each soldier hears its note, and

one takes up his shield, another dons his breast-plate ;

another puts on his greaves or his helmet or his sword-

5 belt ; one puts the bit in his horse s mouth, another mounts

CHAPTER 6 399 b

his chariot, another passes along the watchword ; the
captain betakes himself straightway to his company, the
commander to his division, the horseman to his squadron,
the light-armed warrior hastens to his appointed place ; all
is hurry and movement in obedience to one word of com
mand, to carry out the orders of the leader who is supreme
over all. Even so must we suppose concerning the universe ; 10
by one impelling force, unseen and hidden from our eyes,
all things are stirred and perform their individual functions.
That this force is unseen stands in the way neither of its
action nor of our belief in it. For the spirit of intelligence
whereby we live and dwell in houses and communities,
though invisible, is yet seen in its operations; for by it the 15
whole ordering of life has been discovered and organized
and is held together the ploughing and planting of the
earth, the discovery of the arts, the use of law, the ordering
of constitutions, the administration of home affairs and war
outside our borders and peace. Thus, too. must we think of
God, who in might is most powerful, in beauty most fair, ^o
in time immortal, in virtue supreme ; for, though he is
invisible to all mortal nature, yet is he seen in his very
works. For all that happens in the air, on the earth, and
in the water, may truly be said to be the work of God,
who possesses the universe; from whom, in the words of 25
Empedocles, the natural philosopher,

Whatsoever hath been and is now and shall be hereafter,
All alike hath its birth men, women, trees of the forest,
Beasts of the field and fowls of the air and fish in the water. 1

To use a somewhat humble illustration, we might with
truth compare the ordering of the universe to the so-called
key-stones in arches, which, placed at the junction of the rj
two sides, ensure the balance and arrangement of the whole
structure of the arch and give it stability. Moreover, they
say that the sculptor Pheidias, when he was setting up the
Athena on the Acropolis, represented his own features in
the centre of her shield, and so attached it to the statue by 35
a hidden contrivance, that any one who tried to cut it out. 400

1 Diels, Vorsokr? i, p. 233, 9-11.

400 a ^ DE MUNDO

thereby necessarily shattered and overthrew the whole
statue. 1 The position of God in the universe is analogous
to this, for he preserves the harmony and permanence of all
things ; save only that he has his seat not in the midst,
5 where the earth and this our troubled world is situated, but
himself pure he has gone up into a pure region, to which
we rightly give the name of heaven, for it is the furthest
boundary 2 of the upper world, and the name of Olympus,
because it is all-bright 3 and free from all gloom and
disordered motion, such as is caused on our earth by
10 storms and the violence of the wind. Even thus speaks
the poet Homer

Unto Olympus height, where men say that the gods have

their dwelling,

Alway safe and secure ; no wind ever shaketh its stillness,
Nor is it wet with the rain ; no snow draweth nigh ; but

unclouded,
Ever the air is outspread, and a white sheen floateth

about it. 4

15 This, too, is borne out by the general habit of mankind,
which assigns the regions above to God ; for we all stretch
up oun hands to heaven when we offer prayers. Wherefore
these words of the poet are not spoken amiss,

Heaven belongcth to Zeus, wide spread mid the clouds
and the ether/

20 Therefore also the objects of sense which are held in the
highest esteem occupy the same region, to wit the stars and
the sun and moon. For this cause the heavenly bodies
alone are so arranged that they ever preserve the same
order, and never alter or move from their course, while the
things of earth, being mutable, admit of many changes

25 and conditions. For ere now mighty earthquakes have
rent the earth in diverse places, and violent rains have
burst forth and flooded it, and the inroads and withdrawals

1 Cp.tteM/ r. A use. 846* 19 flf. ; Plut. Pericles 31 ; Cic. Titsc. i. 15, 34 ;
Val. Max. viii. 14. 6 ; and for the Strangford shield, which is a copy
of the shield of the Athena Parthenos, see A. H. Smith, Cat. of Gk.
Sculpt if re in the Brit. Mus. i, no. 302.

2 nvpavos is here derived from opor, boundary .

s "OAv/iTTo? is here derived from oAo? and Aa^nm , to shine .

1 Od. vi. 42-45. 5 //. xv. 192.

CHAPTER 6 400*

of waves have often turned the dry land into sea and sea
into dry land, and the might of winds and hurricanes has
sometimes overthrown whole cities, and fires and flames have
consumed the earth, either coming forth from heaven in 30
former times, even as men say that in the days of Phaethon
they burnt up the eastern regions of the earth, or else
gushing forth and breathing from the earth in the west,
as when the craters of Etna burst and flowed like a torrent
over the earth. (There also the favour of heaven bestowed
especial honour upon the generation of the pious, when they
were overtaken by the fiery stream, because they were
carrying their aged parents upon their shoulders and seeking
to save them. For when the river of fire drew near to
them, it was parted asunder and turned part of its flame
this way and part that way, and preserved the young men 5
and their parents unscathed. 1 )

To sum up the matter, as is the steersman in the ship,
the charioteer in the chariot, the leader in the chorus, law
in the city, the general in the army, even so is God in the
Universe ; save that to them their rule is full of weariness
and disturbance and care, while to him it is without toil or 10
labour and free from all bodily weakness. For, enthroned
amid the immutable, he moves and revolves all things,
where and how he will, in different forms and natures ; just
as the law of a city, fixed and immutable in the minds of
those who are under it, orders all the life of the state. For 15
in obedience to it, it is plain, the magistrates go forth to
their duties, the judges to their several courts of justice,
the councillors and members of the assembly to their
appointed places of meeting, and one man proceeds to his
meals in the prytaneum, another to make his defence before 20
the jury, and another to die in prison. So too the custo
mary public feasts and yearly festivals take place, and
sacrifices to the gods and worship of heroes and libations
in honour of the dead. The various activities of the
citizens in obedience to one ordinance or lawful authority
are well expressed in the words of the poet,

And all the town is full of incense smoke, 35

And full of cries for aid and loud laments. 2
1 Cp. Lycurg. in Leocr. 95-96. 2 Soph. O. T. 4, 5.

4 oo b DE MUNDO

So must we suppose to be the case with that greater
city, the universe. For God is to us a law, impartial,
admitting not of correction or change, and better, me-
30 thinks, and surer than those which are engraved upon
tablets. Under his motionless 1 and harmonious rule the
whole ordering of heaven and earth is administered, extend
ing over all created things through the seeds of life in each
both to plants and to animals, according to genera and

4&lt;Di a species. For vines and date-palms and peach-trees and
sweet fig-trees and olives 2 , as the poet says, and trees
which, though they bear no fruits, have other uses, plane-

, trees and pines and box-trees,

Alder and poplar-tree and cypress breathing sweet odours, 3

5 and trees which produce autumn crops pleasant but also
difficult to store,

Pear-trees and pomegranate-trees and apple-trees glorious-
fruited, 4

and animals, both wild and tame, feeding in the air or
on the earth or in the water, all are born and come to

I0 their prime and decay in obedience to the ordinances of
God ; for, in the words of Heraclitus, every creeping thing
grazes at the blow of God s goad . 5

God being one yet has many names, being called after 7
all the various conditions which he himself inaugurates.
We call him Zen and Zeus, using the two names in the .

, 5 same sense, as though we should say him through whom
we live . 6 He is called the son of Kronos and of Time, for
he endures from eternal age to age. He is God of Light
ning and Thunder, God of the Clear Sky and of Ether,
God of the Thunderbolt and of Rain, so called after the
rain and the thunderbolts and other physical phenomena.
Moreover, after the fruits he is called the Fruitful God,

20 after cities the City-God : he is God of Birth, God of the
House-court, God of Kindred and God of our Fathers

1 Reading aicivijTtos with O. 2 Od. xv. 116.

3 ib. v. 64. 4 ib. xi. 589.

6 Reading TrXrjyfi for n}v yrjv with Diels, Vorsokr? i, p. 80, 1. 8.
6 i.e. Zeus is here derived from }", to live , and its accusative Am,
apparently, from the preposition did.

CHAPTER 7 40i a

from his participation in such things. He is God of Com
radeship and Friendship and Hospitality, God of Armies
and of Trophies, God of Purification and of Vengeance and
of Supplication and of Propitiation, as the poets name
him, and in very truth the Saviour and God of Freedom,
and to complete the tale of his titles, God of Heaven and 25
of the World Below, deriving his names from all natural
phenomena and conditions, inasmuch as he is himself the
cause of all things. Wherefore it is well said in the Orphic
Hymns,

Zeus of the flashing bolt was the first to be born and

the latest,
Zeus is the head and the middle ; of Zeus were all

things created ;
Zeus is the stay of the earth and the stay of the star- 4 O1

spangled heaven ;

Zeus is male and female of sex, the bride everlasting ;
Zeus is the breath of all and the rush of unwearying fire ;
Zeus is the root of the sea, and the sun and the moon

in the heavens ;
Zeus of the flashing bolt is the king and the ruler of 5

all men,
Hiding them all away, and again to the glad light of

heaven
Bringing them back at his will, performing terrible

marvels. 1

I think also that God and nought else is meant when
we speak of Necessity, which is as it were invincible 2
being ; and Fate, because his action is continuous 3 and he
cannot be stayed in his course ; and Destiny, 4 because all 10
things have their bounds, and nothing which exists is
infinite; and Lot." from the fact that all things are allotted;
and Nemesis, from the apportionment which is made to
every individual ; and Adrasteia, 7 which is a cause ordained
by nature which cannot be escaped ; and Dispensation, 8 so

1 Kaibel, Orphica, 46.

2 Ai/a-yifi;, necessity , is here derived from ai/iKi/ror, invincible .

3 Elfjuipfifvij, fate , from fipfu/, to plait together .
* lit TrpotyieVr;, destiny , from nt /juroOr, to bound .

5 Motpa, lot , from pepi^fU , to allot .

6 Ntpfo-is, from W/netr, to apportion .

7 Afyaoreia, from n-, not , and ftiSpuo-Ktiv, to run away .

8 Aura, dispensation , from del ovaa, ever existing .

40i b DE MUNDO

called because it exists for ever. What is said of the Fates
15 and their spindle tends to the same conclusion ; for they
are three, appointed over different periods of time, and the
thread on the spindle is part of it already spent, part
reserved for the future, and part in the course of being
spun. One of the Fates is appointed to deal with the
past, namely, Atropos, for nothing that is gone by can be
20 changed 1 ; Lachesis is concerned with the future, for ces
sation 2 in the course of nature awaits all things ; Clotho
presides over the present, accomplishing and spinning 3 for
each his own particular destiny. This fable is well and
duly composed. All these things are nought else but God,
even as worthy Plato tells us. 4

25 God, then, as the old story has it, holding the beginning
and the end and the middle of all things that exist, pro
ceeding by a straight path in the course of nature brings
them to accomplishment ; and with him ever follows
Justice, the avenger of all that falls short of the Divine
Law Justice, in whom may he that is to be be happy, be
from the very first a blessed and happy partaker !

r, from -, not , and r/jcVeip, to turn .
s-, from Xr/ytiv, to cease .

3 KAo&gt;$a&gt;, from KXw&tv, to spin .

4 The reference appears to be to the account of the Fates given in
the Vision of Er (Plato, Rep. 617 c).

INDEX

3QQ b . OO a -OI b =

Acropolis, 9 b 34.

Adrasteia, oi b i3.

Adriatic, 3*28.

Aegean, 3 a 3o.

Aeolian Islands, 5 b 2i.

Aerial element, see Air.

Air, aerial element, 2 b 5-14, 32, 3*2,

6 b 29, o ; b 24.

Albion (Great Britain), 3 b l2.
Alexander, i a 2.
Aloadae, l a ii.
Animals, movements of different,

8 b 30735-

Antarctic pole, 2 a 4.

Aparctias, 4 b 29, 32.

Apeliotes, 4 b 23-

Aphrodite, 2 !1 28.

Apollo, 2 a 27.

Arabian, Gulf (Red Sea), 3 b i6, 28 ;

Sea (Erythraean), 3 b 4 ; Isthmus,

3 b 28, 32.

Arch, keystone of an, 9 30.
Arctic pole, 2 a 3.
Ares, 2 a 35.
Argestes, 4 b 2$, 30.
Armies, Cod of, oi a 22.
Army, Universe compared to an,

9 b i ff.
Arts, analogy of the, 6 b n, 8 b 14-

16.
Asia, 3 b 22, 4 a 2, 8 a 27, 35; its

boundaries, 3 b 26-31.
Athena Parthenos, 9 b 34.
Atlantic, 2 b 22, 27, 3 a l6.
Atropos, oi b i8.
Axis (of the Universe), i b 26.

Barrels , 5 b i2.

Beacon fires, Persian system of,

8 a 3i-35.

Beaming Star , * the , 2 a 24.
Beams , 2 b 4, 5 b i2.
Bellowing, subterranean, 6 a i3-
Birth, God of, (Zeus), oi a 20 ; and

decay on the earth, 7 b 3~5, 9 a 28,

29.

Blizzard, 4 b l.

Bolt, see Thunderbolt.

Boreas, 4 b 20, 28, 29, 5 a 3, 4.

Breath, 4 b 9-i2.

Breezes, 4 a 17, b i3, 7 a 34-

Britain, British Isles, 3 b i2, 17.

Bura, 6 a 2l.

Caecias, 4 b 22, 28, 5 a i.
Cambay, Gulf of (?), 3^3.
Cambyses, 8 a u.
Caspian district, 3 b 6.
Celts, land of the, 3 b 9, 13.
Ceylon (Toprobane), 3 b i4-
Chorus, harmony in a, 9 a i5-l8;

chorus-leader, God compared to

a, 9 a i9, oo b 7.
Circias, 4 1&gt; 3I.
City, the Universe compared to a,

6 b i ff., oo b 8, 14-30.
City-god, the, (Zeus), oi a 2o.
Clear Sky, 4 a 22, 24 ; God of the,

(Zeus), oi a i7.
Clotho, oi b 2i.
Cloud, 2 b 9, 4 a 16, 21, 23, 26, 28, 29,

33, b 6, 17, 5 a n, I2 &gt; 15, 33-
Cloud winds , 4 b i8.
Comets, 2 b 4, 5 a 32, b 8~9.
Comradeship, God of,(Zeus), oi a 22.
Consonants, 6 b l8,
Continents, our world one of many,

2 b 20, 3 ;1 IO.

Contraries, in the Universe, 6 a 34 ;
in a city, 6 b 2-4 ; harmony evolved
out of, 6 b 8, 1 1 , 23-25 ; nature has
a liking for, 6 h 7.

Corsica, 3 a 13.

Corycian cave, I a 2i.

Creator, God as, 7 b 13-24.

Cretan Sea, 3 a 29.

Crete, 3 a i3-

Cronos, 2 a 24, 9*11, oi a i5.

Cutch, Gulf of (?), 3 b 3.

Cyclades, 3 a i4.

Cyprus, 3 a i3.

Cyrnus (Corsica), 3 a i3-

INDEX

Darius, 8 a n.

Decay, birth and, on the earth,

7 b 3~5&gt; 9 a 28, 29.
Delphi, 5 1 29.
Destiny, oi b io.
Dew, 4 a i5, 23, 26, 9*25.
Dew-frost , 4* 26.
Disordered element, the, (fire), 2 b 2.
Dispensation, oi b i4.
Dissimilarity, similarity evolved

from, 6 b 5.
Divine Law, oi b 28.

Earth, the, I b 9, 2*29, b i4, 3 a 2,
b 27, 30, 7 a 24- b 5, 8 b io, 9 b 24,
oo a 23 ; the centre of the Uni
verse, i b i2, 2 b 33, oo :i 5 ; God s
rule of, 7 b 29~8 a 7; phenomena
in and around, 4 a 7 ff., 9 a 25-30 ;
sources of water, wind, and fire
in, 5 b i8ff.

Earthquakes, 5 b 33 - 6 a 16, 7 a 28,
31, oo 1 25 ; bellowing , 6 a n;
gaping , 6 a 4 ; heaving , 6 a 3 ;
horizontal , 6 a i; rending , 6 a 5 ;
* thrusting , 6 a 8 ; vibrating ,
6 a io.

Earth-storm , 5 a 10.

East winds, 4 b 20, 22-24, 33-

Ecbatana, 8 a i4, 34.

Egypt, 4* I.

Egyptian Sea, 3 a 29.

Elements, i b io, 3 a i, 6 a 28; their
agreement in the Universe, 6 b 2 5-
7 a 5. See also Air, Earth, Ether,
Fire, Water.

Empedoclcs quoted, 9 b 25-28.

Equality preserves harmony, 7 a 3.

Erythraean (Arabian) Sea, 3 b 4-

Eternal, God is, oi a i6.

Etesian winds, 5 a 2.

Ether, ethereal element, 2 b i, 6 b 27 ;
its nature, 2*31, 32; is the sub
stance of the stars and heaven,
2 a 5 ; surrounds the heavenly
bodies, 2*30; its motion, 2 a 8,
b 2 ; etymology of the word, 2 a 6-8.

Etna, 5 b 2i, oo a 33.

Euboea, 3 a i3-

Euronotus, 4 b 33.

Europe, 3 b 22; its boundaries, 3 b 23-
26.

Eurus, 4 b 2o 22, 24, 33.

Exhalations, 4 a 9~ b i8, 7 a 23.

Fate, oi b 9.

Fates, the, oi b i4~24.

Fathers, God of Our, (Zeus), oi a 21.
Fiery Star , the, 2 a 25, 9 a Q.
Fire, fiery element, 2 a 33-5, 3 a 3,

5 a 20, 6 b 30, 7 a 23, 29, b i, 2, 00*29,

30; darting fires, 2 b 3; subter

ranean fires, 5 b i9ff.
Fixed, stars, 2 a io, n, 23, lights in

the sky, 5 b 4, 7.
Flashes in the sky, 5 a 3i.
Floods, 7 a 29, oo a 26, 27. See also

7*i dal waves.

Freedom, God of, (Zeus), oi a 24.
Friendship, God of, (Zeus), oi a 22.
Frost, 4 a i6, 7 b i ; hoar-frost, 4 a 26 ;

dew-frost , 4 a 26.
Fruitful God, the, (Zeus), oi a 19.

Gallic Sea, 3 a 27, b 9.

Geographers, 3 b 20.

General, God compared to a, oo b 8.

Glistening Star , the, 2 a 26.

God, his position in the Universe,
7 b 9fT., 9 b 28 ff. ; his rule over the
earth, 7 b 29-8"* 7, oo b 9~i I, 27-34 ;
is eternal, oi a i6, supreme, 7 b 26;
as creator, 7 b 13-24; the nature
of his power, 8 b 8-10, 19, 22, l) l i-
28 ; needs no help from others,
8 b io-i6 ; brings all things to ac
complishment, oi b 25-27 ; dwells
in the highest part of the Uni
verse, 7 b 26, 27, 8 h 7, oo a 4-2i ;
compared to a chorus leader,
9 a i9,oo b 7, to a general, oo b 8,
to human law, oo b 8, 14-30, to the
keystone of an arch, 9 b 3o, to
the King of Persia, 8 H I iff., to a
steersman, oo b 6; identified with
Adrasteia, oi b i3, with Destiny,
oi b io, with Dispensation, oi b 14,
with Fate, oi b 9, with the Fates,
oi b i4-24, with Lot, oi b i2, with
Necessity, oi b 8, with Nemesis,
oi b i2; his various titles, oi a !2-

Gulf winds , 4 b i5.
Gusts of wind, 5 a 6.

Hail, 2 b 11, 4 a 16, b i-5-

Halo, 5 a 36- b 3.

Harmony, evolved out of contraries,
6 b 8, u, 23-25; preserved by
equality, 7 a 3 ; in music, 6 b 15-17,
9 a 15-18; in the Universe, 6 b

Heaven, i b 9, 6 b 28, 7 a 9, 8 b 9, 9 a 20;
the highest part of the Universe,

INDEX

i b 1 6 ; composed of ether, 2 a 5 ;
is spherical, i b 20 ; its movement,
i b 17-19 ; God of H., (Zeus), oi a

Helice, 6*21.

Hellespont, 3 b i, 8 a 2;.

Hera, 2 a 28.

Heracles, 2 a 35 ; Pillars of, 3 a i8,

24, b io, 23, 32, 4 a i.
Heraclitus quoted, 6 b 20-22, oi a

lo-n.

Hermes, 2 a 26, 9 a 9.
Hoar-frost, 2 b 10, 4*26.
Homer quoted, 7 b 27, oo a 10-14, 19,

oi a 4, 7.

Hospitality, God of, (Zeus), oi a 22.
House-court, God of the, (Zeus),

oi a 20.

Hurricane, 2 b u, 4 b 18, oo !l 29.
Hyrcanian, district, 3 b 6 ; Sea, 3 b 24,

lapyx, 4 b 26.

Iberia, 3 b 16.

Ice, 4*25.

lerne (Ireland), 3 b 13.

India, 3 b 15.

Indian Gulf, 3 b 3.

Indus, 8*28.

Intelligence, 9 b 13.

Ireland (lerne), 3 b 13.

Island, our continent is an, 2 b 2i,

3 b 18 ; names of islands, 3 a 9-15,

b ii-i7; islands at the mouth of

the Nile, 4 :i 3.
Isthmus, between Hyrcanian Sea

and Pontus, 3 b 25-27; Arabian,

3*28,32.

Justice, oi b 27.

Keystone of an arch, 9 b 30.
Kindred, God of, (Zeus), oi a 2i.
King of Persia, 8 a 10, 30, b i.

Lachesis, oi b 2o.

* Land winds , 4 b 14.

Lathe, turner s, i b 22.

Law, 9 b 18 ; divine law, oi b 28 ;

God compared to human law,

oo b 8, 14-30.
Lebadia, 5 b 29.
Lesbos, 3 a 14.
Libonotus, 4 b 34.
Libophoenix, 4 b 34.
Libya, 3 b 22 ; its boundaries, 3 b 31-

4 a 4 .

Light-bearing star , the, 2 a 27,
9 a 8.

Lightning, 2 b 12, 4 a 18, 5 a 15 ;
reaches our perception before
thunder, 5 a 16-21 ; forked , 5*
27; smouldering , 5 a 26; swoop
ing , 5 a 28 ; * vivid , 5 a 27 ; Zeus,
god of L., oi a 17.

Lights in the sky, 5 a 3-18.

Li para, 5 b 21.

Lips, 4 b 27, 34.

Lot, oi b 12.

Maeotis, 3 a 32, b 8.
Mist, 4 a i5, 19, 23.
Moisture, 7 a 22; element of M.,

2 b 3o, 4 :l i4.
Moon, 2 a 29, 5 a 33, b 2, 6 b 28, 7 a 10,

S b 9, 9 a 6, 7, oo a 2i ; its effect on

tides, 6 a 26, 27.
Motion, movement, of different

animals, 8^*30-35 ; of the heavens,

i a 17-19, oo a 21-23 J f spheres,

cubes, cones, and cylinders, b b

27-29 ; in the universe, i b 2O, 24,

8 b 20-27, 9 a 32-34.
Mud, thrown up by earthquakes,

6 a 6.
Music, harmony in, 6 b l5-l7, 9 a

15-18.
Myrtoan Sea, 3 a 30.

Nature has a liking for contraries,

6 b 7 .

Necessity, oi b 8.
Nemesis, oi b 12.
Nile, the, 3 b 3i,4 :l i, 2.
North, pole, 2 a 1-5, 4 b 29 ; wind, 4 b

20, 28-31, 5 a 3, 4.
Xotus, 4 b 2i, 31-34, 5 a i.
Nysa, I a 2i.

Obscure , the , Heracleitus, 6 b

20.

Ocean, 3 a 17, b 3, 11. 30.
Olympus, oo a 7, 1 1 .
Oracles, 5 b 28.
Ornithian winds, 5 a 4.
Orphic Hymn, oi a 28- b 7-
Ossa, i a 2i.

Painting, the art of, 6 b 12-15.
Palace of the Great King, 8 a 15-18.
Pamphylian Sea, 3 a 30.
Persia, King of, 8 a 10, 30, b i.
Persian Gulf, 3 b 3.
Phaethon, oo a 31.

INDEX

Phebol, 3 b i5-

Pheidias, 9 b 32.

Philosophy, i a 2, 1 1, b ;.

Piety towards parents, oo a 34- b 6.

Pillars of Heracles, 3 a 18, 24, b io,

23, 32, 4 a i-
Pits , 2 b 4, 5 b i2.
Planets, 2 a 13 ff.
Plato, oi b 24.

Plurality, unity evolved from, 6 b 5.
Poles, arctic and antarctic, 2 a 1-5 ;

north p., 4 b 29 ; south p., 4 b 31.
Pontus, 3*30, b 24, 25, 27.
Prayer, attitude of, oo a 17.
Propitiation, God of, (Zeus), oi a 24.
Propontis, 3 b I.
Pry taneum, oo b 1 9.
Puppet-showman, 8 b 16-19.
Purification, God of, (Zeus), 01*23.

Rain, 7 a 33, 9*24, oo a 26 ; Zeus,
God of r., 01*18; rain-storms,
2 b io, 4 a 1 6, 27-32 ; rain-winds ,

4 b i9-

Rainbow, 5 a 30, 32-36, b i.
Red Sea (Arabian Gulf), 3 b 16, 28.

Sardinia, 3*13.

Sardinian Sea, 3*27.

Saviour, the, (Zeus), oi a 24.

Scythians, 3 b 8.

Sea, 2 b 14, 6 b 27, 9*27; phenomena
occurring in, 6 a 17-27 ; names of
seas, 3 a i6- b 22.

Shield of Athena Parthenos, 9 b 35-

1 Shining Star , the, 2 a 23.

Shocks, 5 b 33. See also Earth
quakes.

Shooting, stars, 5*32; lights, 5

4-7-

Shower, 4*31.

Sicilian sea, 3 a 28.

Sicily, 3 a 12.

Similarity evolved from dissimi
larity, 6 a 5.

Sky, clear, 4 a 22, 24 ; Zeus, God of
the Clear Sky, oi u 17.

Snow, 2 1 io, 4 a 16, 32 b i.

Society, organization of, 9 b 14-19.

Sophocles quoted, oo b 25-26.

South, pole, 2 a 1-5, 4 b 3i; wind,
4 b 2i, 31-35, 5*1.

Sporades, 3 a 14.

Springs, hot, 5 b 24 ; caused by
earthquakes, 6 a 6, 7.

Squall, 5 a 5.

Stars, i b i7, 5 a 36- b i, 8, 7*9, 9*8-

1 1 , 20, oo a 2 1 ; composed of ether,
2 a 5; movement of, 2*14, 15;
names of, 2 a i9ff. ; fixed stars,
2 a io, n, 23, are unnumbered,
2 a 1 8 ; planets, 2 a 13 flf. ; shooting
stars, 5 a 32.

Steersman, God compared to a,
oo b 6.

Storms, 7*23, oo a 9.

Streaks in the sky, 5 a 31, 35.

Sun, 2* 29, 5 a 33, b 2, 6 b 27, 7 a 9, 8 b 8,

9*8, 21, 00*21.

Supplication, God of, (Zeus), oi a 23.
Supremacy of God, 7 b 26.
Susa, 8 a 14, 34.
Syrian Sea, 3 a 30.
Syrtes, 3*25.

Tanais, 3 b 26, 30.

Taprobane (Ceylon), 3 b 14.

Thracias, 4 b 30.

Thunder, 4* 18, 5*11-14 ; perceived

after lightning, 5* 1 6-21 ; God of

T.,(Zeus),oi a i7.
Thunderbolt, 2 b 12, 4 a 18, 5*21-25,

7*21, oi a i8; God of the T.,

(Zeus), 01* 17.

Tidal waves, 6 a 18-21, 26, oo a 26.
Tides affected by the moon, 6*26, 27.
Time, Zeus is son of, 01* 15.
Torches , 5 b n.
Tornado, 5* 7.
Trade winds, 5* 2.
Trophies, God of, (Zeus), 01*23.
Tropics, the, 2 a 12.

Unity evolved out of plurality, 6 b 5.

Universe, the, 1*25, 26, 2 b 33, 35;
its composition, i b 9 ff., 3 a i~4;
its movement, i b 2o, 24, 7*15,9*
32-34 ; made up of contrary
principles, 6*34, b 24, 25 ; organi
zation of, 9 a i ff. ; God and the
U., 7 b 9ff, oo b 7 ff; God as creator
of the U., 7 b 13-24 ; harmony in
the U., 6 b 23-7 a 5, 9 a i2, 00*4;
the ordered U., 9*13-14, its
beauty, 7* 6, its greatness, swift
ness, radiance, and eternity, 7*
14-17 ; parent of all things, 7*4,
IQ ; is spherical, i b 19; its axis.
i"26; compared, to an army,
9 b i ff, to a city, 6 b I ff.

Vengeance, God of, (Zeus), oi a 23.
Vents, vent-holes in the earth, 5 b 20,
27, 7 a 32.

INDEX

Volcanoes, 5 b 21-23, a 33-
Vowels, 6 b 1 8.

Water, element of W., 2 b 3o, 3 a 2,
6 b 3o, 9 b 24 ; subterranean sources
of, 5 b 19 ff. See also Moisture.

Waves, tidal, 6 a 18-21, 26, 00*26.

West winds, 4 b 2o, 25-28, 5*3.

Whirlwind, 5*7.

Whiteness of snow, cause of, 4 a 34,

Wind, 4*17, b i3, 7 b 2i, 32, 9*24,
00*9; how caused, 4 b 7-9; blasts
of, 2 b u, 5*5-8; various types of.
5*5-16; cloud winds , 4 b i8;
gulf winds , 4 b 1 5 ; land winds ,
4 b 14 ; * rain winds , 4 b 1 9 ; sub
terranean winds, 5 b 19 ; names of
winds : Aparctias 4 b 29, 32, Ape-
liotes 4 b 23, Argestes 4 b 25, 30,
Boreas 4 b 20, 28, 29, 5" 3, 4,
Caecias 4 b 22, 28, 5*1, Circias
4 b 31, Etesian 5 a 2, Euronotus
4 b 33, Eurus 4 b 2o, 22, 24, 33,

lapyx 4 a 26, Libonotus 4 b 34,
Libophoenix 4 b 34, Lips 4 b 27, 34,
Notus 4 b 2i, 31-34, 5*1, Olympias
4 b 26, Ornithian 5 a 4, Thracias
4 b 30, Zephyrus 4 b 20, 25, 26, 5* 3.

World, the inhabited, 2 b 2o, 31, 3 a
10, b i8, 4 b 5 ; its dimensions,
3 b i8-2i; its divisions, 3 b 22.

World Below, God of the, (Zeus),
01*25.

Writing, the art of, 6 b 18,

Xerxes, 8 a II, b 4.

Zen, 01 a 14.

Zephyrus, 4 b 2O, 25, 26, 5 a 3.

Zeus, 2 a 25, 9 a 10, 00*19, 01*14;

etymology of the word, oi a 15 ;

his various titles, 01* 12-27 ;

Orphic Hymn describing, 01*

12-27.
Zodiac, circle of the, 2 a ii, 12 :

signs of the, 2* 13.

DE ANIMA

BY
J. A. SMITH, M.A., HON. LL.D. (DIN.)

WAYNFLETB PROFESSOR OF MORAL AND METAPHYSICAL PHILOSOPHY

FELLOW OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE
HONORARY FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE

OXFORD
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

CONTENTS

BOOK I

1. The dignity, usefulness, and difficulty of Psychology.

2. The opinions of early thinkers about the soul.

3. Refutation of the view which assigns movement to the soul.

4. 407 b 27-408* 34. The soul not a harmony.

408* 34~4o8 b 29. The soul not moved with non-local movement.
4c8 b 30-5. 4&lt;D9 b 18. The soul not a self-moving number.

5. 4c9 b 19-411* 7. The soul not composed of elements.
411*7-23. The soul not present in all things.

41 i a 24-41 i b 30. The unity of the soul.

BOOK II

1. First definition of soul.

2. Second definition of soul.

3. The faculties of the soul.

4. The nutritive faculty.

5. Sense-perception.

6. The different kinds of sensible object.

7. Sight and its object.

8. Hearing and its object.

9. Smell and its object.

10. Taste and its object.

11. Touch and its object.

12. General characteristics of the external senses.

BOOK III

1-2. 426 b 7. The number of the external senses.

2. 426 b 8-427* 16. Common sense.

3. 427* I7~427 b 26. Thinking, perceiving, and imagining distinguished.
427 b 27-429*9. Imagination.

4. Passive mind.

5. Active mind.

6. The double operation of mind.

7. The practical mind, and the difference between it and the
contemplative.

8. Comparison of mind with sense and with imagination.

9. Problems about the motive faculty.

10. II. The cause of the movement of living things.

12, 13. The mutual relations of the faculties of soul, and their fitness
for the conditions of life.

BOOK I

HOLDING as we do that, while knowledge of any kind is 402*
a thing to be honoured and prized, one kind of it may, either
by reason of its greater exactness or of a higher dignity and
greater wonderfulness in its objects, be more honourable
and precious than another, on both accounts we should
naturally be led to place in the front rank the study of the
soul. The knowledge of the soul admittedly contributes
greatly to the advance of truth in general, and, above all, 5
to our understanding of Nature, for the soul is in some sense
the principle of animal life. Our aim is to grasp and under
stand, first its essential nature, and secondly its properties ;
of these some are thought to be affections proper to the
soul itself, while others are considered to attach to the
animal l owing to the presence within it of soul.

To attain any assured knowledge about the soul is one 10
of the most difficult things in the world. As the form of
question which here presents itself, viz. the question What
is it ? , recurs in other fields, it might be supposed that there
was some single method of inquiry applicable to all objects
whose essential nature we are endeavouring to ascertain (as 15
there is for derived properties the single method of demon
stration) ; in that case what we should have to seek for
would be this unique method. But if there is no such single
and general method for solving the question of essence, our
task becomes still more difficult ; in the case of each different
subject we shall have to determine the appropriate process
of investigation. If to this there be a clear answer, e.g.
that the process is demonstration or division, or some
other known method, difficulties and hesitations still beset ao
us with what facts shall we begin the inquiry ? For the
facts which form the starting-points in different subjects
must be different, as e. g. in the case of numbers and sur
faces.

First, no doubt, it is necessary to determine in which of
the summa genera soul lies, uhat it is\ is it a this-
somewhat , a substance, or is it a quale or a quantum, or
M.e. the complex of soul and body.

645 19 B

4 02 a DE ANIMA

some other of the remaining kinds of predicates which we

25 have distinguished ? Further, does soul belong to the class
of potential existents, or is it not rather an actuality ?
Our answer to this question is of the greatest importance.
4O2 b We must consider also whether soul is divisible or is with
out parts, and whether it is everywhere homogeneous or not ;
and if nothomogeneous, whether its various formsare different
specifically or generically : up to the present time those who
have discussed and investigated soul seem to have confined

5 themselves to the human soul. We must be careful not to ignore
the question whether soul can be defined in a single unam
biguous formula, as is the case with animal, or whether we
must not give a separate formula for each sort of it, as we
do for horse, dog, man, god (in the latter case the uni
versal animal and so too every other * common predicate
being treated eitheras nothing at all or as a later product 1 ).
Further, if what exists is not a plurality of souls, but a
plurality of parts of one soul, which ought we to investigate

10 first, the whole soul or its parts ? (It is also a difficult problem
to decide which of these parts are in nature distinct from
one another.) Again, which ought we to investigate first,
these parts or their functions, mind or thinking, the faculty
or the act of sensation, and so on? If the investigation of
the functions precedes that of the parts, the further question
suggests itself: ought we not before either to consider the

15 correlative objects, e.g. of sense or thought? 2 It seems not
only useful for the discovery of the causes of the derived
properties of substances to be acquainted with the essential
nature of those substances (as in mathematics it is useful
for the understanding of the property of the equality of the

20 interior angles of a triangle to two right angles to know the
essential nature of the straight and the curved or of the line
and the plane) but also conversely, for the knowledge of the
essential nature of a substance is largely promoted by an
acquaintance with its properties : for, when we are able to

1 i.e. as presupposing the various sorts instead of being presupposed
by them.

2 The text has e.g. the objects of sense or thought before the cor
responding faculties or parts , but this seems a slip of the author s ; the
order suggested is object function or operation faculty or part.

BOOK 1. 1 402 b

give an account conformable to experience of all or most
of the properties of a substance, we shall be in the most
favourable position to say something worth saying about
the essential nature of that subject ; in all demonstration a 25
definition of the essence is required as a starting-point,sothat
definitions which do not enable us to discover the derived
properties, or which fail to facilitate even a conjecture about 4O3 a
them, must obviously, one and all, be dialectical and futile.
A further problem presented by the affections of soul is
this : are they all affections of the complex of body and
soul, or is there any one among them peculiar to the soul
by itself? To determine this is indispensable but difficult.
If we consider the majority of them, there seems to be no 5
case in which the soul can act or be acted upon without
involving the body ; e. g. anger, courage, appetite, and sen
sation generally. Thinking seems the most probable
exception ; but if this too proves to be a form of imagina
tion or to be impossible without imagination, it too requires
a body as a condition of its existence. If there is any way i
of acting or being acted upon proper to soul, soul will be
capable of separate existence ; if there is none, its separate
existence is impossible. In the latter case, it will be like
what is straight, which has many properties arising from
the straightness in it, e.g. that of touching a bronze sphere
at a point, though straightness divorced from the other con
stituents of the straight thing cannot touch it in this way ; it
cannot be so divorced at all, since it is always found in a body. !5
It therefore 1 seems that all the affections of soul involve a
body passion, gentleness, fear, pity, courage, joy, loving,
and hating ; in all these there is a concurrent affection of
the body. In support of this we may point to the fact that,
while sometimes on the occasion of violent and striking oc
currences there is no excitement or fear felt, on others faint 20
and feeble stimulations produce these emotions, viz. when
the body is already in a state of tension resembling its con
dition when we are angry. Here is a still clearer case : in the
absence of any external cause of terror we find ourselves
experiencing the feelings of a man in terror. From all this it

1 Reading drj in 1. 16.
B 2

403 a DE ANIMA

is obvious that the affections of soul are enmattered formu-
lable essences.

35 Consequently their definitions ought to correspond, e.g.
anger should be defined as a certain mode of movement of
such and such a body (or part or faculty of a body) by
this or that cause and for this or that end. That is precisely
why the study of the soul must fall within the science of
Nature, at least so far as in its affections it manifests this
double character. Hence a physicist would define an

30 affection of soul differently from a dialectician; the latter
would define e.g. anger as the appetite for returning
pain for pain, or something like that, while the former would
define it as a boiling of the blood or warm substance sur-
rounding the heart. The latter assigns the material con
ditions, the former the form or formulable essence; for what
he states 1 is the formulable essence of the fact, though for its
actual existence there must be embodiment of it in a material
such as is described by the other. Thus the essence of a
house is assigned in such a formula as a shelter against
5 destruction by wind, rain, and heat ; the physicist would
describe it as * stones, bricks, and timbers ; but there is a
third possible description which would say that it was that
form in that material with that purpose or end. Which,
then, among these is entitled to be regarded as the genuine
physicist ? The one who confines himself to the material, or
the one who restricts himself to the formulable essence alone?
Is it not rather the one who combines both in a single for
mula ? If this is so, how are we to characterize the other two ?
Must we not say that there is no type of thinker who con
cerns himself with those qualities or attributes of the material
which are in fact inseparable from the material, and without

10 attempting even in thought to separate them? The physicist
is he who concerns himself with all the properties active and
passive of bodies or materials thus or thus defined ; attributes
not considered as being of this character he leaves to others,
in certain cases it may be to a specialist, e.g. a carpenter or

1 The reading here adopted in 1. 2 is that of the editio altera of Biehl s
text (ed. Apeltj viz. ofie, the MS. evidence for which is much superior to
that for

BOOK 1. 1 4 o 3 b

a physician, in others (a) where they are inseparable in fact,
but are separable from any particular kind of body by an
effort of abstraction, to the mathematician, (b) where they 15
are separate both in fact and in thought from body al
together, to the First Philosopher or metaphysician. But
we must return from this digression, and repeat that the
affections of soul are inseparable l from the material sub
stratum of animal life, to which we have seen that such
affections, e.g. passion and fear, attach, and have not the
same mode of being as a line or a plane.

2 For our study of soul it is necessary, while formulating ao
the problems of which in our further advance we are to find
the solutions, to call into council the views of those of our
predecessors who have declared any opinion on this subject,
in order that we may profit by whatever is sound in their
suggestions and avoid their errors.

The starting-point of our inquiry is an exposition of
those characteristics which have chiefly been held to belong
to soul in its very nature. Two characteristic marks have 25
above all others been recognized as distinguishing that
which has soul in it from that which has not movement
and sensation. It may be said that these two are what our
predecessors have fixed upon as characteristic of soul.

Some say that what originates movement is both pre
eminently and primarily soul ; believing that what is not
itself moved cannot originate movement in another, they 30
arrived at the view that soul belongs to the class of things
in movement. This is what led Democritus to say that soul
is a sort of fire or hot substance ; his forms or atoms are
infinite in number ; those which are spherical he calls fire
and soul, and compares them to the motes in the air
which we see in shafts of light coming through windows ;
the mixture of seeds of all sorts he calls the elements of the
whole of Nature (Leucippus gives a similar account) ; the 5
spherical atoms are identified with soul because atoms of
that shape are most adapted to permeate everywhere, and
to set all the others moving by being themselves in move-
1 Reading in 1. 17, with most MSS., TTJS ^vx

4&lt;H a DE AN IMA

ment. This implies the view that soul is identical with what
produces movement in animals. That is why, further, they

10 regard respiration as the characteristic mark of life ; as the
environment compresses the bodies of animals, and tends to
extrude those atoms which impart movement to them,
because they themselves are never at rest, there must be a
reinforcement of these by similar atoms coming in from
without in the act of respiration ; for they prevent the
extrusion of those which are already within by counteracting
the compressing and consolidating force of the environment;

T 5 and animals continue to live only so long as they are able
to maintain this resistance.

The doctrine of the Pythagoreans seems to rest upon the
same ideas ; some of them declared the motes in air, others
what moved them, to be soul. These motes were referred
to because they are seen always in movement, even in a
complete calm.

20 The same tendency is shown by those who define soul
as that which moves itself; all seem to hold the view that
movement is what is closest to the nature of soul, and that
while all else is moved by soul, it alone moves itself. This
belief arises from their never seeing anything originating
movement which is not first itself moved.

35 Similarly also Anaxagoras (and whoever agrees with
him in saying that mind set the whole in movement) de
clares the moving cause of things to be soul. His position
must, however, be distinguished from that of Democritus.
Democritus roundly identifies soul and mind, for he identi
fies what appears with what is true that is why he com
mends Homer for the phrase Hector lay with thought

3 distraught l ; he does not employ mind as a special faculty

4&lt;H b dealing with truth, but identifies soul and mind. What

Anaxagoras says about them is more obscure ; in many

places he tells us that the cause of beauty and order is

mind, elsewhere that it is soul ; it is found, he says, in all

? animals, great and small, high and low, but mind (in the

sense of intelligence) appears not to belong alike to all

animals, and indeed not even to all human beings.

1 //. xxiii. 698.

BOOK 1.2 404 b

All those, then, who had special regard to the fact that
what has soul in it is moved, adopted the view that soul
is to be identified with what is eminently originative of
movement. All. on the other hand, who looked to the fact
that what has soul in it knows or perceives what is, iden
tify soul with the principle or principles of Nature, accord- 10
ing as they admit several such principles or one only. Thus
Empedocles declares that it is formed out of all his ele
ments, each of them also being soul ; his words are :

For tis by Earth we see Earth, by Water Water,

By Ether Ether divine, by F*ire destructive Fire,

By Love Love, and Hate by cruel Hate. 1 5

In the same way Plato in the Timaeus 2 fashions the soul
out of his elements ; for like, he holds, is known by like,
and things are formed out of the principles or elements, so
that soul must be so too. Similarly also in his lectures On
Philosophy it was set forth that the Animal-itself is *
compounded of the Idea itself of the One together with the
primary length, breadth, and depth, everything else, the
objects of its perception, being similarly constituted. Again
he puts his view in yet other terms : Mind is the monad,
science or knowledge the dyad (because 3 it goes undeviat-
ingly from one point to another), opinion the number of
the plane, 4 sensation the number of the solid 5 ; the num
bers are by him expressly identified with the Forms them
selves or principles, and are formed out of the elements;
now things are apprehended either by mind or science or 25
opinion or sensation, and these same numbers are the
Forms of things.

Some thinkers, accepting both premisses, viz. that the
soul is both originative of movement and cognitive, have
compounded it of both and declared the soul to be a self-
moving number.

As to the nature and number of the first principles 30
opinions differ. The difference is greatest between those who
regard them as corporeal and those who regard them as

1 Fr. 109 Diels. 2 35 Aff.

3 Like the straight line, whose number is the dyad.

4 The triad. 8 The tetrad.

405 a DE AN I MA

405 a incorporeal, and from both dissent those who make a blend
and draw their principles from both sources. The number
of principles is also in dispute ; some admit one only,
others assert several. There is a consequent diversity in
their several accounts of soul ; they assume, naturally
enough, that what is in its own nature originative of
5 movement must be among what is primordial. That has
led some to regard it as fire, for fire is the subtlest of
the elements and nearest to incorporeality ; further, in the
most primary sense, fire both is moved and originates
movement in all the others.

Democritus has expressed himself more ingeniously than
the rest on the grounds for ascribing each of these two
characters to soul ; soul and mind are, he says, one and

TO the same thing, and this thing must be one of the primary
and indivisible bodies, and its power of originating move
ment must be due to its fineness of grain and the shape of
its atoms ; he says that of all the shapes the spherical is
the most mobile, and that this is the shape of the particles
of both fire and mind.

Anaxagoras, as we said above. 1 seems to distinguish
between soul and mind, but in practice he treats them as

15 a single substance, except that it is mind that he specially
po.sits as the principle of all things ; at any rate what he
says is that mind alone of all that is is simple, unmixed,
and pure. He assigns both characteristics, knowing and
origination of movement, to the same principle, when he
says that it was mind that set the whole in movement.
Thales, too, to judge from what is recorded about him,

20 seems to have held soul to be a motive force, since he said
that the magnet has a soul in it because it moves the iron.
Diogenes (and others) held the soul to be air because
he believed air to be finest in grain and a first principle ;
therein lay the grounds of the soul s powers of knowing
and originating movement. As the primordial principle
from which all other things are derived, it is cognitive ; as
finest in grain, it has the power to originate movement.

25 Heraclitus too says that the first principle the warm

1 40 b i-6

BOOK I. 2 405

exhalation of which, according to him, everything else is
composed is soul ; further, that this exhalation is most
incorporeal and in ceaseless flux ; that what is in movement
requires that what knows it should be in movement ; and
that all that is has its being essentially in movement
(herein agreeing with the majority).

Alcmaeon also seems to have held a similar view about
soul ; he says that it is immortal because it resembles the 30
immortals , and that this immortality belongs to it in
virtue of its ceaseless movement ; for all the things divine ,
moon, sun, the planets, and the whole heavens, are in
perpetual movement.

Of more superficial writers, some, e.g. Hippo, have pro- 4O5
nounced it to be water ; they seem to have argued from the
fact that the seed of all animals is fluid, for Hippo tries to
refute those who say that the soul is blood, on the ground
that the seed, which is the primordial soul, is not blood.

Another group (Critias, for example) did hold it to be 5
blood ; they take perception to be the most characteristic
attribute of soul, and hold that perceptiveness is due to
the nature of blood.

Each of the elements has thus found its partisan, except
earth earth has found no supporter unless we count as
such those who have declared soul to be, or to be com- 10
pounded of, all the elements. All, then, it may be said,
characterize the soul by three marks, Movement. Sensation,
Incorporeality, and each of these is traced back to the first
principles. That is why (with one exception) all those
who define the soul by its power of knowing make it either
an element or constructed out of the elements. The
language they all use is similar ; like, they say, is known 15
by like ; as the soul knows everything, they construct it
out of all the principles. Hence all those who admit but
one cause or element, make the soul also one (e.g. fire
or air), while those who admit a multiplicity of principles
make the soul also multiple. The exception is Anaxa-
goras ; he alone says that mind is impassible and has 20
nothing in common with anything else. 1 But, if this is so,

1 Fr. 12.

4os b DE ANIMA

how or in virtue of what cause can it know ? That Anaxa-
goras has not explained, nor can any answer be inferred
from his words. All who acknowledge pairs of opposites
among their principles, construct the soul also out of these
contraries, while those who admit as principles only one con-

25 trary of each pair, e. g. either hot or cold, likewise make
the soul some one of these. That is why, also, they allow
themselves to be guided by the names ; those who identify
soul with the hot argue that ffjv (to live) is derived from
(tlv (to boil), while those who identify it with the cold say
that soul (tyvyri) is so called from the process of respiration
and refrigeration (Kara^vgis).

30 Such are the traditional opinions concerning soul, to
gether with the grounds on which they are maintained.

We must begin our examination with movement ; for, 3
doubtless, not only is it false that the essence of soul is cor-
406* rectly described by those who say that it is what moves (or
is capable of moving) itself, but it is an impossibility that
movement should be even an attribute of it.

We have already 1 pointed out that there is no necessity
that what originates movement should itself be moved.
There are two senses in which anything may be moved
either (a) indirectly, owing to something other than itself,
5 or (b) directly, owing to itself. Things are indirectly
moved which are moved as being contained in something
which is moved, e. g. sailors in a ship, for they are moved in
a different sense from that in which the ship is moved ; the
ship is * directly moved , they are indirectly moved ,
because they are in a moving vessel. This is clear if we
consider their limbs ; the movement proper to the legs (and
so to man) is walking, and in this case the sailors are not
10 walking. Recognizing the double sense of * being moved ,
what we have to consider now is whether the soul is directly
moved and participates in such direct movement.

There are four species of movement locomotion, altera
tion, diminution, growth ; consequently if the soul is
moved, it must be moved with one or several or all of
1 Phys. viii. 5, esp. 257* 3 1-25 8 b 9.

BOOK I. 3 4o6 a

these species of movement. Now if its movement is not
incidental, there must be a movement natural to it, and, 15
if so, as all the species enumerated involve place, place
must be natural to it. But if the essence of soul be to move
itself, its being moved cannot be incidental to it, as it is
to what is white or three cubits long ; they too can be
moved, but only incidentally what is moved is that of
which white and three cubits long are the attributes, the
body in which they inhere ; hence they have no place : but ao
if the soul naturally partakes in movement, it follows that
it must have a place.

Further, if there be a movement natural to the soul,
there must be a counter-movement unnatural to it, and
conversely. The same applies to rest as well as to move
ment ; for the terminus ad quern of a thing s natural
movement is the place of its natural rest, and similarly the 25
terminus ad quern of its enforced movement is the place of
its enforced rest. But what meaning can be attached to
enforced movements or rests of the soul, it is difficult even
to imagine.

Further, if the natural movement of the soul be upward,
the soul must be fire; if downward, it must be earth;
for upward and downward movements are the definitory
characteristics of these bodies. The same reasoning applies
to the intermediate movements, termini, and bodies.
Further, since the soul is observed to originate movement 30
in the body, it is reasonable to suppose that it transmits to
the body the movements by which it itself is moved, and so,
reversing the order, we may infer from the movements of
the body back to similar movements of the soul. Now the 4o6 b
body is moved from place to place with movements of loco
motion. Hence it would follow that the soul too must in
accordance with the body change either its place as a whole
or the relative places of its parts. This carries with it the pos
sibility that the soul might even quit its body and re-enter it,
and with this would be involved the possibility of a resurrec
tion of animals from the dead. But. it may be contended, the 5
soul can be moved indirectly by somethingelse; for an animal
can be pushed out of its course. Yes, but that to whose

4o6 b DE ANIMA

essence belongs the power of being moved by itself, cannot
bemoved by something else except incidentally, 1 justaswhat
is good by or in itself cannot owe its goodness to something
external to it or to some end to which it is a means.

10 If the soul is moved, the most probable view is that
what moves it is sensible things. 2

We must note also that, if the soul moves itself, it must
be the mover itself that is moved, so that it follows that
if movement is in every case a displacement of that which
is in movement, in that respect in which it is said to be
moved, the movement of the soul must be a departure from
its essential nature, at least if its self-movement is essential
to it, not incidental.

15 Some go so far as to hold that the movements which the
soul imparts to the body in which it is are the same in
kind as those with which it itself is moved. An example
of this is Democritus, who uses language like that of the
comic dramatist Philippus, who accounts for the move
ments that Daedalus imparted to his wooden Aphrodite by
saying that he poured quicksilver into it ; similarly Demo-

20 critus says that the spherical atoms which according to him
constitute soul, owing to their own ceaseless movements
draw the whole body after them and so produce its move
ments. We must urge the question whether it is these very
same atoms which produce rest also how they could do
so, it is difficult and even impossible to say. And, in
general, we may object that it is not in this way that the

25 soul appears to originate movement in animals it is
through intention or process of thinking.

It is in the same fashion that the Timaeus* also tries to
give a physical account of how the soul moves its body ;
the soul, it is there said, is in movement, and so owing to
their mutual implication moves the body also. After
compounding the soul-substance out of the elements and

1 i.e. so that what is moved is not it but something which goes along
with it , e.g. a vehicle in which it is contained.

2 Sc. in which case the movement can only be incidental ; for, as
we shall see later, it is really the bodily organ of sensation that then is
* moved .

3 35 A fT.

BOOK I. 3 4 o6 b

dividing it in accordance with the harmonic numbers, in
order that it may possess a connate sensibility for harmony 30
and that the whole may move in movements well attuned,
the Demiurge bent the straight line into a circle ; this single
circle he divided into two circles united at two common
points ; one of these he subdivided into seven circles. All this
implies that the movements of the soul are identified with
the local movements of the heavens.

Now, in the first place, it is a mistake to say that the
soul is a spatial magnitude. It is evident that Plato means
the soul of the whole to be like the sort of soul which is
called mind not like the sensitive or the desiderative 5
soul, for the movements of neither of these are circular.
Now mind is one and continuous in the sense in which the
process of thinking is so, and thinking is identical with
the thoughts which are its parts ; these have a serial unity
like that of number, not a unity like that of a spatial
magnitude. Hence mind cannot have that kind of unity
either ; mind is either without parts or is continuous in some
other way than that which characterizes a spatial magnitude.
How, indeed, if it were a spatial magnitude, could mind 10
possibly think ? Will it think with any one indifferently of
its parts ? In this case, the part J must be understood either
in the sense of a spatial magnitude or in the sense of a point
(if a point can be called a part of a spatial magnitude). If
we accept the latter alternative, the points being infinite in
number, obviously the mind can never exhaustively traverse
them ; if the former, the mind must think the same thing
over and over again, indeed an infinite number of times
(whereas it is manifestly possible to think a thing once only). 15
If contact of any part whatsoever of itself with the object is
all that is required, why need mind move in a circle, or in
deed possess magnitude at all? On the other hand, if con
tact with the whole circle is necessary, what meaning can
be given to the contact of the parts ? Further, how could
what has no parts think what has parts, or what has parts
think what has none ? 1 We must identify the circle referred
to with mind ; for it is mind whose movement is thinking ao
1 Sc. but mind in fact thinks or cognizes both.

4o? a DE ANIMA

and it is the circle whose movement is revolution, so that if
thinking is a movement of revolution, the circle which has
this characteristic movement must be mind. 1

If the circular movement is eternal, there must be some
thing which mind is always thinking what can this be?
For all practical processes of thinking have limits they all
go on for the sake of something outside the process, and all
theoretical processes come to a close in the same way as the
phrases in speech which express processes and results of
25 thinking. Every such linguistic phrase is either definitory
or demonstrative. Demonstration has both a starting-point
and may be said to end in a conclusion or inferred result ;
even if the process never reaches final completion, at any rate
it never returns upon itself again to its starting-point, it goes
on assuming a fresh middle term or a fresh extreme, and
moves straight forward, but circular movement returns to
30 its starting-point. Definitions, too, are closed groups of
terms.

Further, if the same revolution is repeated, mind must
repeatedly think the same object.

Further, thinking has more resemblance to a coming to
rest or arrest than to a movement ; the same may be said
of inferring.

It might also be urged that what is difficult and enforced
407 b is incompatible with blessedness ; if the movement of the
soul is not of its essence, movement of the soul must be
contrary to its nature. 2 It must also be painful for the soul
to be inextricably bound up with the body ; nay more, if,
as is frequently said and widely accepted, it is better for
mind not to be embodied, the union must be for it undesir
able.

5 Further, the cause of the revolution of the heavens is left
obscure. It is not the essence of soul which is the cause of
this circular movement that movement is only incidental
to soul nor is, a fortiori , the body its cause. Again, it is
not even asserted that it is better that soul should be so
moved ; and yet the reason for which God caused the soul

1 Omitting vorja-is in 1. 22, with Sophonias and Torstrik.

2 Sc. and so a hindrance to its bliss .

BOOK I. 3 4 07 b

to move in a circle can only have been that movement was 10
better for it than rest, and movement of this kind better
than any other. But since this sort of consideration is more
appropriate to another field of speculation, let us dismiss it
for the present.

The view we have just been examining, in company with
most theories about the soul, involves the following absur
dity : they all join the soul to a body, or place it in a body, 15
without adding any specification of the reason of their
union, or of the bodily conditions required for it. Yet such
explanation can scarcely be omitted ; for some community
of nature is presupposed by the fact that the one acts and
the other is acted upon, the one moves and the other is
moved ; interaction always implies a special nature in the
two interagents. All, however, that these thinkers do is to 20
describe the specific characteristics of the soul ; they do not
try to determine anything about the body which is to con
tain it, as if it were possible, as in the Pythagorean myths,
that any soul could be clothed upon with any body an
absurd view, for each body seems to have a form and shape
of its own. It is as absurd as to say that the art of carpentry
could embody itself in flutes; each art must use its tools, 25
each soul its body.

4 There is yet another theory about soul, which has
commended itself to many as no less probable than any
of those we have hitherto mentioned, and has rendered
public account of itself in the court of popular discussion. 30
Its supporters say that the soul is a kind of harmony, for

(a) harmony is a blend or composition of contraries, and

(b) the body is compounded out of contraries. Harmony,
however, is a certain proportion or composition of the
constituents blended, and soul can be neither the one nor
the other of these. Further, the power of originating
movement cannot belong to a harmony, while almost all
concur in regarding this as a principal attribute of soul.

It is more appropriate to call health (or generally one of 408*
the good states of the body) a harmony than to predicate
it of the soul. The absurdity becomes most apparent

4o8 a DE ANIMA

when we try to attribute the active and passive affections
of the soul to a harmony ; the necessary readjustment of

5 their conceptions is difficult. Further, in using the word
harmony we have one or other of two cases in our mind ;
the most proper sense is in relation to spatial magnitudes
which have motion and position, where harmony means
the disposition and cohesion of their parts in such a
manner as to prevent the introduction into the whole of
anything homogeneous with it, and the secondary sense,
derived from the former, is that in which it means the
ratio between the constituents so blended ; in neither of

jo these senses is it plausible to predicate it of soul. That
soul is a harmony in the sense of the mode of composition
of the parts of the body is a view easily refutable ; for there
are many composite parts and those variously compounded ;
of what bodily part is mind or the sensitive or the appetitive
faculty the mode of composition ? And what is the mode
of composition which constitutes each of them ? It is
equally absurd to identify the soul with the ratio of the

15 mixture ; for the mixture which makes flesh has a different
ratio between the elements from that which makes bone.
The consequence of this view will therefore be that dis
tributed throughout the whole body there will be many
souls, since every one of the bodily parts is a different mix
ture of the elements, and the ratio of mixture is in each
case a harmony, i. e. a soul.

From Empedocles at any rate we might demand an
answer to the following question for he says that each of
the parts of the body is what it is in virtue of a ratio

ao between the elements : is the soul identical with this ratio,
or is it not rather something over and above this which is
formed in the parts ? Is love the cause of any and every
mixture, or only of those that are in the right ratio? Is
love this ratio itself, or is love something over and above
this ? Such are the problems raised by this account. But,
on the other hand, if the soul is different from the mixture,

25 why does it di&gt;appear at one and the same moment with
that relation between the elements which constitutes flesh or
the other parts of the animal body ? Further, if the soul

BOOK I. 4 408*

is not identical with the ratio of mixture, and it is conse
quently not the case that each of the parts has a soul, what
is that which perishes when the soul quits the body ?

That the soul cannot either be a harmony, or be moved
in a circle, is clear from what we have said. Yet that it 3
can be moved incidentally is, as we said above, 1 possible,
and even that in a sense it can move itself, i. e. in the sense
that the vehicle in which it is can be moved, and moved by
it ; in no other sense can the soul be moved in space.

More legitimate doubts might remain as to its movement
in view of the following facts. We speak of the soul as being 4o8 b
pained or pleased, being bold or fearful, being angry,
perceiving, thinking. All these are regarded as modes of
movement, and hence it might be inferred that the soul
is moved. This, however, does not necessarily follow.
We may admit to the full that being pained or pleased, or 5
thinking, are movements (each of them a * being moved ),
and that the movement is originated by the soul. For
example we may regard anger or fear as such and such
movements of the heart, and thinking as such and such
another movement of that organ, or of some other ; these
modifications may arise either from changes of place in
certain parts or from qualitative alterations (the.special nature 10
of the parts and the special modes of their changes being
for our present purpose irrelevant). Yet to say 2 that it is
the soul which is angry is as inexact as it would be to say
that it is the soul that weaves webs or builds houses. It
is doubtless better to avoid saying that the soul pities or
learns or thinks and rather to say that it is the man who
does this with his soul. What we mean is not that the 15
movement is in the soul, but that sometimes it terminates
in the soul and sometimes starts from it, sensation e.g.
coming from without inwards, and reminiscence starting
from the soul and terminating with the movements, actual
or residual, in the sense organs.

The case of mind is different ; it seems to be an inde
pendent substance implanted within the soul and to be

1 4o6 a 30 ff ,

2 Reading in 1. II TO fie Xeytti/, with most MSS. and Philoponus.

648-19

4o8 b DE ANIMA

incapable of being destroyed. If it could be destroyed at
all, it would be under the blunting influence of old age.

ao What really happens in respect of mind in old age is,
however, exactly parallel to what happens in the case of
the sense organs ; if the old man could recover the proper
kind of eye, he would see just as well as the young man.
The incapacity of old age is due to an affection not of the
soul but of its vehicle, as occurs in drunkenness or disease.
Thus it is that in old age the activity of mind or intellectual
apprehension declines only through the decay of some other

35 inward part ; mind itself is impassible. Thinking, loving,
and hating are affections not of mind, but of that which
has mind, so far as it has it. That is why, when this
vehicle decays, memory and love cease ; they were
activities not of mind, but of the composite which has
perished ; mind is, no doubt, something more divine and

30 impassible. That the soul cannot be moved is therefore
clear from what we have said, and if it cannot be moved at
all, manifestly it cannot be moved by itself.

Of all the opinions we have enumerated, by far the most
unreasonable is that which declares the soul to be a self-
moving number ; it involves in the first place all the
impossibilities which follow from regarding the soul as
moved, and in the second special absurdities which follow
4og a from calling it a number. How are we to imagine a unit
being moved ? By what agency ? What sort of movement
can be attributed to what is without parts or internal
differences? If the unit is both originative of movement
and itself capable of being moved, it must contain difference. 1
Further, since they say a moving line generates a surface
5 and a moving point a line, the movements of the psychic
units must be lines (for a point is a unit having position,
and the number of the soul is, of course, somewhere and
has position).

Again, if from a number a number or a unit is subtracted,
the remainder is another number ; but plants and many
animals when divided continue to live, and each segment is
thought to retain the same kind of soul.

1 Sc. and so, be no unit .

BOOK I. 4 409*

It must be all the same whether we speak of units or ro
corpuscles ; for if the spherical atoms of Democritus became
points, nothing being retained but their being a quantum,
there must remain in each a moving and a moved part, just
as there is in what is continuous ; what happens has nothing
to do with the size of the atoms, it depends solely upon
their being a quantum. That is why there must be some- 15
thing to originate movement in the units. If in the animal
what originates movement is the soul, so also must it be in
the case of the number, so that not the mover and the
moved together, but the mover only, will be the soul.
But how is it possible for one of the units to fulfil this
function of originating movement? There must be some
difference between such a unit and all the other units, and what 20
difference can there be between one placed unit and another
except a difference of position ? If then, on the other hand,
these psychic units within the body are different from the
points 0/"the body, there will be two sets of units both occupy
ing the same place ; for each unit will occupy a point. And
yet, if there can be two, why cannot there be an infinite
number ? For if things can occupy an indivisible place,
they must themselves be indivisible. If, on the other hand, 25
the points of the body are identical with the units whose
number is the soul, or if the number of the points in the
body is the soul, why have not all bodies souls? For
all bodies contain points or an infinity of points.

Further, how is it possible for these points to be isolated
or separated from their bodies, seeing that lines cannot be 30
resolved into points ?

5 The result is, as we have said, 1 that this view, while on
the one side identical with that of those who maintain that
soul is a subtle kind of body, 2 is on the other entangled in
the absurdity peculiar to Democritus way of describing
the manner in which movement is originated by soul. 4og b
For if the soul is present throughout the whole percipient
body, there must, if the soul be a kind of body, be two
bodies in the same place ; and for those who call it a
1 4o8 b 33 ff. 2 e.g. Heraclitus, and Diogenes of Apollonia.

C 2

409 b DE ANIMA

5 number, there must be many points at one point, or every
body must have a soul, unless the soul be a different sort of
number other, that is, than the sum of the points existing
in a body. Another consequence that follows is that the
animal must be moved by its number precisely in the way
that Democritus explained its being moved by his spherical
psychic atoms. What difference does it make whether we
speak of small spheres or of large l units, or, quite simply, of

10 units in movement ? One way or another, the movements of
the animal must be due to their movements. Hence those
who combine movement and number in the same subject
lay themselves open to these and many other similar absurdi
ties. It is impossible not only that these characters should
give the definition of soul it is impossible that they should
even be attributes of it. The point is clear if the attempt

15 be made to start from this as the account of soul and ex
plain from it the affections and actions of the soul, e. g. rea
soning, sensation, pleasure, pain, &c. For, to repeat what
we have said earlier, 2 movement and number do not facili
tate even conjecture about the derivative properties of soul.
Such are the three ways in which soul has traditionally
been defined ; one group of thinkers declared it to be that

ao which is most originative of movement because it moves
itself, another group to be the subtlest and most nearly in
corporeal of all kinds of body. We have now sufficiently
set forth the difficulties and inconsistencies to which these
theories are exposed. It remains now to examine the
doctrine that soul is composed of the elements.

The reason assigned for this doctrine is that thus the
soul may perceive or come to know everything that is, but

35 the theory necessarily involves itself in many impossibilities.
Its upholders assume that like is known only by like, and
imagine that by declaring the soul to be composed of the
elements they succeed in identifying the soul with all the
things it is capable of apprehending. But the elements are
not the only things it knows ; there are many others, or, more
exactly, an infinite number of others, formed out of the

30 elements. Let us admit that the soul knows or perceives the
1 i.e. extended. 8 4O2 b 25-403* 2.

BOOK I. 5 409*

elements out of which each of these composites is made up ;
but by what means will it know or perceive the composite
whole, e.g. what God, man, flesh, bone (or any other com
pound) is ? For each is, not merely the elements of which 410*
it is composed, but those elements combined in a determi
nate mode or ratio, as Empedocles himself says of bone,

The kindly Earth in its broad-bosomed moulds l

Won of clear Water two parts out of eight 5

And four of Fire ; and so white bones were formed.

Nothing, therefore, will be gained by the presence of the
elements in the soul, unless there be also present there
the various formulae of proportion and the various com
positions in accordance with them. Each element will
indeed know its fellow outside, but there will be no know
ledge of bone or man, unless they too are present in the
constitution of the soul. The impossibility of this needs no 10
pointing out ; for who would suggest that stone or man
could enter into the constitution of the soul ? The same
applies to the good and the not-good , and so on.

Further, the word is has many meanings : it may be
used of a this or substance, or of a quantum, or of a
quale, or of any other of the kinds of predicates we have
distinguished. Does the soul consist of all of these or not ? 15
It does not appear that all have common elements. Is the
soul formed out of those elements alone which enter into
substances? If so, how will it be able to know each of the
other kinds of thing? Will it be said that each kind of
thing has elements or principles of its own, and that the
soul is formed out of the whole of these? In that case, 20
the soul must be a quantum and a quale and a substance.
But all that can be made out of the elements of a quantum
is a quantum, not a substance. These (and others like them)
are the consequences of the view that the soul is composed
of all the elements.

It is absurd, also, to say both (a) that like is not capable
of being affected by like, and (b) that like is perceived or
known by like, for perceiving, and also both thinking and 25

1 Burnet broad funnels , fr. 96 Diels.

4io a DE ANIMA

knowing, are, on their own assumption, ways of being
affected or moved.

There are many puzzles and difficulties raised by saying,
as Empedocles does, that each set of things is known by
means of its corporeal elements and by reference to some
thing in soul which is like them, and additional testimony

30 is furnished by this new consideration ; for all the parts of

the animal body which consist wholly of earth such as

4io b bones, sinews, and hair seem to be wholly insensitive and

consequently not perceptive even of objects earthy like

themselves, as they ought to have been.

Further, each of the principles will have far more ignor
ance than knowledge, for though each of them will know
one thing, there will be many of which it will be ignorant.
Empedocles at any rate must conclude that his God is the
5 least intelligent of all beings, for of him alone is it true
that there is one thing, Strife, which he does not know,
while there is nothing which mortal beings do not know, for
there is nothing which does not enter into their composition.
In general, we may ask, Why has not everything a soul,
since everything either is an element, or is formed out of
one or several or all of the elements ? Each must certainly
know one or several or all.

10 The problem might also be raised, What is that which
unifies the elements into a soul? The elements correspond,
it would appear, to the matter ; what unites them, whatever
it is, is the supremely important factor. But it is impos
sible that there should be something superior to, and domi
nant over, the soul (and a fortiori over the mind) ; it is
reasonable to hold that mind is by nature most primordial

15 and dominant, while their statement is that it is the ele
ments which are first of all that is.

All, both those who assert that the soul, because of its
knowledge or perception of what is, is compounded out of
the elements, and those who assert that it is of all things
the most originative of movement, fail to take into con
sideration all kinds of soul. In fact (i) not all beings that
perceive can originate movement ; there appear to be

20 certain animals which are stationary, and yet local move-

BOOK I. 5 4io b

ment is the only one, so it seems, which the soul originates
in animals. And (2) the same objection holds against all
those who construct mind and the perceptive faculty out
of the elements ; for it appears that plants live, and yet
are not endowed with locomotion or perception, while a
large number of animals are without discourse of reason.
Even if these points were waived and mind admitted to be
a part of the soul (and so too the perceptive faculty), still, 25
even so, there would be kinds and parts of soul of which
they had failed to give any account.

The same objection lies against the view expressed in
the Orphic poems : there it is said that the soul comes
in from the whole when breathing takes place, being borne
in upon the winds. 1 Now this cannot take place in the case 30
of plants, nor indeed in the case of certain classes of animal,
for not all classes of animal breathe. This fact has escaped 4 11 *
the notice of the holders of this view.

If we must construct the soul out of the elements, there
is no necessity to suppose that all the elements enter into
its construction ; one element in each pair of contraries
will suffice to enable it to know both that element itself
and its contrary. By means of the straight line we know 5
both itself and the curved the carpenter s rule enables us
to test both but what is curved does not enable us to
distinguish either itself or the straight.

Certain thinkers say that soul is intermingled in the
whole universe, and it is perhaps for that reason that Thales
came to the opinion that all things are full of gods. This
presents some difficulties : Why does the soul when it re
sides in air or fire not form an animal, while it does so 10
when it resides in mixtures of the elements, and that
although it is held to be of higher quality when contained
in the former? (One might add the question, why the soul
in air is maintained to be higher and more immortal than
that in animals.) Both possible ways of replying to the
former question lead to absurdity or paradox ; for it is
beyond paradox to say that fire or air is an animal, and 15
it is absurd to refuse the name of animal to what has soul
1 Orpheus, fr. n Diels.

4ii a DE ANIMA

in it. The opinion that the elements have soul in them
seems to have arisen from the doctrine that a whole must
be homogeneous with its parts. If it is true that animals
become animate by drawing into themselves a portion of
what surrounds them, the partisans of this view are bound
to say that the soul of the Whole too is homogeneous with
20 all its parts. If the air sucked in is homogeneous, but soul
heterogeneous, clearly while some part of soul will exist in
the inbreathed air, some other part will not. The soul
must either be homogeneous, or such that there are some
parts of the Whole in which it is not to be found.

From \\ hat has been said it is now clear that knowing as
an attribute of soul cannot be explained by soul s being
35 composed of the elements, and that it is neither sound nor
true to speak of soul as moved. But since (a) knowing,
perceiving, opining, and further (b) desiring, wishing, and
generally all other modes of appetition, belong to soul,
30 and (c) the local movements of animals, and (d) growth,
maturity, and decay are produced by the soul, we must
ask whether each of these is an attribute of the soul as
4ii b a whole, i. e. whether it is with the whole soul we think,
perceive, move ourselves, act or are acted upon, or whether
each of them requires a different part of the soul ? So
too with regard to life. Does it depend on one of the
parts of soul ? Or is it dependent on more than one? Or
on all ? Or has it some quite other cause?
5 Some hold that the soul is divi&gt;ible, and that one part
thinks, another desires. If, then, its nature admits of its
being divided, what can it be that holds the parts to
gether ? Surely not the body ; on the contrary it seems
rather to be the soul that holds the body together ; at any
rate when the soul departs the. body disintegrates and
decays. If, then, there is something else which makes the
soul one, this unifying agency would have the best right
10 to the name of soul, and we shall have to repeat for it the
question : Is it one or multipartite? If it is one, why not at
once admit that the soul is one? If it has parts, once
more the question must be put : What holds its parts
together, and so ad infinitum ?

BOOK I. 5 4 n b

The question might also be raised about the parts of the
soul : What is the separate role of each in relation to the
body ? For, if the whole soul holds together the whole 15
body, we should expect each part of the soul to hold
together a part of the body. But this seems an impossi
bility ; it is difficult even to imagine what sort of bodily
part mind will hold together, or how it will do this.

It is a fact of observation that plants and certain insects
go on living when divided into segments ; this means that 20
each of the segments has a soul in it identical in species,
though not numerically identical in the different segments,
for both of the segments for a time possess the power of
sensation and local movement. That this does not last is
not surprising, for they no longer possess the organs neces
sary for self-maintenance. But, all the same, in each of the
bodily parts there are present all the parts of soul, and the 25
souls so present are homogeneous with one another and
with the whole ; this means that the several parts of the
soul are indisseverable from one another, although the
whole soul is 1 divisible. It seems also that the principle
found in plants is also a kind of soul ; for this is the only
principle which is common to both animals and plants ;
and this exists in isolation from the principle of sensation,
though there is nothing which has the latter without the 30
former.

1 Sc. in a sense, i.e. so as to preserve its homogeneity in even its
smallest part .

BOOK II

4i2 a LET the foregoing suffice as our account of the views I
concerning the soul which have been handed on by our
predecessors ; let us now dismiss them and make as it were
a completely fresh start, endeavouring to give a precise
5 answer to the question, What is soul ? i. e. to formulate the
most general possible definition of it.

We are in the habit of recognizing, as one determinate
kind of what is, substance, and that in several senses, (a) in
the sense of matter or that which in itself is not a this ,
and (b) in the sense of form or essence, which is that
precisely in virtue of which a thing is called a this , and
thirdly (c) in the sense of that which is compounded of both
10 (a) and (b}. Now matter is potentiality, form actuality ;
of the latter there are two grades related to one another as
e. g. knowledge to the exercise of knowledge.

Among substances are by general consent reckoned
bodies and especially natural bodies ; for they are the
principles of all other bodies. Of natural bodies some have
life in them, others not ; by life we mean self-nutrition
15 and growth (with its correlative decay). It follows that
every natural body which has life in it is a substance in
the sense of a composite. 1

But since it is also a body of such and such a kind, viz.
having life, the body cannot be soul ; the body is the
subject or matter, not what is attributed to it. Hence the
ao soul must be a substance in the sense of the form of a
natural body having life potentially within it. But
substance 2 is actuality, and thus soul is the actuality of
a body as above characterized. Now the word actuality
has two senses corresponding respectively to the possession
of knowledge and the actual exercise of knowledge. It
is obvious that the soul is actuality in the first sense*
viz. that of knowledge as possessed, for both sleeping
25 and waking presuppose the existence of soul, and of these
waking corresponds to actual knowing, sleeping to know-

1 i.e. (c) supra. 2 Sc. in the sense of form.

BOOK II. I

ledge possessed but not employed, and, in the history
of the individual, knowledge comes before its employment
or exercise.

That is why the soul is the first grade of actuality of a
natural body having life potentially in it. The body so
described is a body which is organized. The parts of plants 4i2 b
in spite of their extreme simplicity are organs ; e. g. the
leaf serves to shelter the pericarp, the pericarp to shelter
the fruit, while the roots of plants are analogous to the
mouth of animals, both serving for the absorption of food.
If, then, we have to give a general formula applicable to all
kinds of soul, we must describe it as the first grade of 5
actuality of a natural organized body. That is why we
can wholly dismiss as unnecessary the question whether the
soul and the body are one : it is as meaningless as to ask
whether the wax and the shape given to it by the stamp
are one, or generally the matter of a thing and that of
which it is the matter. Unity has many senses (as many
as * is has), but the most proper and fundamental sense of
both is the relation of an actuality to that of \\ hich it is
the actuality.

We have now given an answer to the question, What is 10
soul? an answer which applies to it in its full extent. It
is substance in the sense which corresponds to the defini
tive formula of a thing s essence. That means that it
is 4 the essential whatness of a body of the character just
assigned. 1 Suppose that what is literally an * organ , 2 like
an axe, were a natural body, its essential whatness , would
have been its essence, and so its soul ; if this disappeared
from it, it would have ceased to be an axe, except in name.
As it is, 3 it is just an axe ; it wants the character which is 15
required to make its whatness or formulable essence a
soul ; for that, it would have had to be a natural body
of a particular kind, viz. one having in itself the power
of setting itself in movement and arresting itself. Next,
apply this doctrine in the case of the * parts of the living
body. Suppose that the eye were an animal sight would

1 Viz. organized, or possessed potentially of life.
8 i.e instrument. s Being an artificial, n&lt;

not a natural, body.

4i2 b DE ANIMA

have been its soul, for sight is the substance or essence of
ao the eye which corresponds to the formula, 1 the eyebeing merely
the matter of seeing ; 2 when seeing is removed the eye is
no longer an eye, except in name it is no more a real eye
than the eye of a statue or of a painted figure. We must
now extend our consideration from the parts to the
whole living body; for what the departmental sense is to
the bodily part which is its organ, that the whole faculty
of sense is to the whole sensitive body as such.
25 We must not understand by that which is potentially
capable of living what has lost the soul it had, but only
what still retains it ; but seeds and fruits are bodies which
possess the qualification. 3 Consequently, while waking is
actuality in a sense corresponding to the cutting and the
4i3 a seeing, 4 the soul is actuality in the sense corresponding to
the power of sight and the power in the tool; 5 the body
corresponds to what exists in potentiality ; as the pupil
plus the power of sight constitutes the eye, so the soul plus
the body constitutes the animal.

From this it indubitably follows that the soul is insepar
able from its body, or at any rate that certain parts of it are
5 (if it has parts) for the actuality of some of them is nothing
but the actualities of their bodily parts. Yet some may be
separable because they are not the actualities of any body
at all. Further, we have no light on the problem whether
the soul may not be the actuality of its body in the sense
in which the sailor is the actuality 6 of the ship.

This must suffice as our sketch or outlinedetermination
10 of the nature of soul.

Since what is clear or logically more evident emerges from 2

what in itself is confused but more observable by us, we

must reconsider our results from this point of view. For it

is not enough for a definitive formula to express as most

i 5 now do the mere fact; it must include and exhibit the ground

1 i.e. which states what it is to be an eye.

2 Punctuating in 1. 20 \6/ov (6 8 ... o\//-f&lt;ur), ^?, with By water.

3 Though only potentially, i.e. they are at a further remove from
actuality than the fully formed and organized body.

4 i.e. to the second grade of actuality.

8 i.e. to the first grade of actuality. i.e. actuator.

BOOK II. a 413*

also. At present definitions are given in a form analogous
to the conclusion of a syllogism ; e. g. What is squaring ?
The construction of an equilateral rectangle equal to a given
oblong rectangle. Such a definition is in form equivalent
to a conclusion. 1 One that tells us that squaring is the
discovery of a line which is a mean proportional between
the two unequal sides of the given rectangle discloses the
ground of what is defined.

We resume our inquiry from a fresh starting-point by 20
calling attention to the fact that what has soul in it differs
from what has not. in that the former displays life. Now this
word has more than one sense, and provided any one alone
of these is found in a thing we say that thing is living.
Living, that is, may mean thinking or perception or local
movement and rest, or movement in the sense of nutrition,
decay, and growth. Hence we think of plants also as living, 35
for they are observed to possess in themselves an originative
power through which they increase or decrease in all spatial
directions ; they grow up and down, and everything that
grows increases its bulk alike in both directions or indeed in
all, and continues to live so long as it can absorb nutii- 30
ment.

This power of self-nutrition can be isolated from the other
powers mentioned, but not they from it in mortal beings
at least. The fact is obvious in plants ; for it is the only
psychic power they possess.

This is the originative power the possession of which leads 4i3 b
us to speak of things as living at all, but it is the possession
of sensation that leads us for the first time to speak of living
things as animals ; for even those beings which possess no
power of local movement but do possess the power of
sensation we call animals and not merely living things.

The primary form of sense is touch, which belongs to all
animals. Just as the power of self-nutrition can be isolated 5
from touch and sensation generally, so touch can be iso
lated from all other forms of sense. (By the power of self-
nutrition we mean that departmental power of the soul
which is common to plants and animals : all animals
1 i.e. it has nothing in it corresponding to a middle term.

4i3 b DE ANIMA

whatsoever are observed to have the sense of touch.) What

10 the explanation of these two facts is, we must discuss later. 1
At present we must confine ourselves to saying that soul is
the source of these phenomena and is characterized by them,
viz. by the powers of self-nutrition, sensation, thinking,
and motivity.

Is each of these a soul or a part of a soul ? And if a part,
a part in what sense? A part merely distinguishable by

15 definition or a part distinct in local situation as well ? In the
case of certain of these powers, the answers to these ques
tions are easy, in the case of others we are puzzled what to
say. Just as in the case of plants which when divided are
observed to continue to live though removed to a distance
from one another (thus showing that in their case the soul
of each individual plant before division was actually one,
potentially many), so we notice a similar result in other

ao varieties of soul, i.e. in insects which have been cut in two ;
each of the segments possesses both sensation and local
movement ; and if sensation, necessarily also imagination
and appetition ; for, where there is sensation, there is also
pleasure and pain, and, where these, necessarily also
desire.

We have no evidence as yet about mind or the power to

35 think ; it seems to be a widely different kind of soul, differ
ing as what is eternal from what is perishable ; it alone is
capable of existence in isolation from all other psychic
powers. All the other parts of soul, it is evident from what
we have said, are, in spite of certain statements to the con
trary, incapable of separate existence though, of course,
distinguishable by definition. If opining is distinct from per-

3 ceiving, to be capable of opining and to be capable of per
ceiving must be distinct, and so with all the other forms of
living above enumerated. Further, some animals possess all
these parts of soul, some certain of them only, others one only
(this is what enables us to classify animals) ; the cause must
414* be considered later. 2 A similar arrangement is found also with
in the field of the senses ; some classes of animals have all

1 iii. 12, esp. 434* 22-30, b io ff. 2 iii. 12, 13.

BOOK II. 2 414*

the senses, some only certain of them, others only one, the
most indispensable, touch.

Since the expression that whereby we live and perceive
has two meanings, just like the expression that whereby we 5
know that may mean either (a) knowledge or (b) the soul,
for we can speak of knowing by or with either, and
similarly that whereby we are in health may be either 1
(a) health or (b) the body or some part of the body ; and
since of the two terms thus contrasted knowledge or health
is the name of a form, essence, or ratio, or if we so express
it an actuality of a recipient matter knowledge of what is 10
capable of knowing, health of what is capable of being
made healthy 2 (for the operation of that which is capable
of originating change terminates and has its seat in what is
changed or altered) ; further, since it is the soul by or with
which primarily we live, perceive, and think : it follows that
the soul must be a ratio or formulable essence, not a matter
or subject. For, as we said, 3 the word substance has three
meanings form, matter, and the complex of both and of 15
these three what is called matter is potentiality, what is
called form actuality. Since then the complex here is the
living thing, the body cannot be the actuality of the soul; it
js the soul which is the actuality of a certain kind of body.
Hence the Tightness of the view that the soul cannot be with
out a body, while it cannot be a body ; it is not a body but 20
something relative to a body. That is why it is in a body, and
a body of a definite kind. It was a mistake, therefore, to do as
former thinkers did, merely to fit it into a body without
adding a definite specification of the kind or character of that
body. Reflection confirms the observed fact ; the actuality of 35
any given thing can only be realized in what is already poten
tially that thing, i.e. in a matter of its own appropriate to it.
From all this it follows that soul is an actuality or formu
lable essence of something that possesses a potentiality
of being besouled.

1 Omitting in 1. 7, with Bywater.

2 The reading vyuurrov (in 1. 10) is better than vytnoriKoi). As be

tween the two forms the MS. evidence is of little if any value.

4i4 a DE ANIMA

Of the psychic powers above enumerated 1 some kinds of 3
living things, as we have said, 2 possess all, some less than all,

30 others one only. Those we have mentioned are the nutri
tive, the appetitive, the sensory, the locomotive, and the
power of thinking. Plants have none but the first, the
nutritive, while another order of living things has this plus
4i4 b the sensory. If any order of living things has the
sensory, it must also have the appetitive ; for appetite is
the genus of which desire, passion, and wish are the
species ; now all animals have one sense at least, viz.
touch, and whatever has a sense has the capacity for
pleasure and pain and therefore has pleasant and painful
objects present to it, and wherever these are present, there
5 is desire, for desire is just appetition of what is pleasant.
Further, all animals have the sense for food (for touch is
the sense for food) ; the food of all living things consists
of what is dry, moist, hot, cold, and these are the qualities
apprehended by touch; all other sensible qualities are

10 apprehended by touch only indirectly. Sounds, colours,
and odours contribute nothing to nutriment ; flavours fall
within the field of tangible qualities. Hunger and thirst are
forms of desire, hunger a desire for what is dry and hot,
thirst a desire for what is cold and moist ; flavour is a
sort of seasoning added to both. We must later 3 clear up

15 these points, but at present it may be enough to say that all
animals that possess the sense of touch have also appeti
tion. The case of imagination is obscure ; we must examine
it later. 4 Certain kinds of animals possess in addition the
power of locomotion, and still another order of animate
beings, i.e. man and possibly another order like man or

20 superior to him, the power of thinking, i.e. mind. It is
now evident that a single definition can be given of
soul only in the same sense as one can be given of figure.
For, as in that case there is no figure distinguishable and
apart from triangle, &c., so here there is no soul apart from
the forms of soul just enumerated. It is true that a highly
general definition can be given for figure which will fit all

1 4i3 a 23-5&gt; b n-i3, 21-4. 2 4i3 b 32-414* I-

3 c. 1 1. iii. 12. 434 b \%-2i,De Sensu 4. 4 iii. 3, II. 433 b 3 I ~434 a 7.

BOOK II. 3 4*4 b

figures without expressing the peculiar nature of any
figure. So here in the case of soul and its specific forms.
Hence it is absurd in this and similar cases to demand an 35
absolutely general definition, which will fail to express the
peculiar nature of anything that is, or again, omitting this,
to look for separate definitions corresponding to each
infima species. The cases of figure and soul are exactly
parallel ; for the particulars subsumed under the com
mon name in both cases figures and living beings
constitute a series, each successive term of which 30
potentially contains its predecessor, e.g. the square the
triangle, the sensory power the self-nutritive. Hence we
must ask in the case of each order of living things, What is
its soul, i.e. What is the soul of plant, animal, man? Why
the terms are related in this serial way must form the sub
ject of later examination. 1 But the facts are that the power 415*
of perception is never found apart from the power of self-
nutrition, while in plants the latter is found isolated from
the former. Again, no sense is found apart from that of
touch, while touch is found by itself; many animals have 5
neither sight, hearing, nor smell. Again, among living
things that possess sense some have the power of loco
motion, some not. Lastly, certain living beings a small
minority possess calculation and thought, for (among
mortal beings) those which possess calculation have all the
other powers above mentioned, while the converse does not 10
hold indeed some live by imagination alone, while others
have not even imagination. The mind that knows with
immediate intuition presents a different problem. 2

It is evident that the way to give the most adequate
definition of soul is to seek in the case of each of its forms for
the most appropriate definition.

4 It is necessary for the student of these forms of soul first
to find a definition of each, expressive of what it is, and 15
then to investigate its derivative properties, &c. But if we
are to express what each is, viz. what the thinking power
is, or the perceptive, or the nutritive, we must go farther

1 iii. 12, 13. 2 Cf. iii. 4-8.

45-19 D

4i5 a DE ANIMA

back and first give an account of thinking or perceiving,
for in the order of investigation the question of what an
agent does precedes the question, what enables it to do what

20 it does. If this is correct, we must on the same ground go
yet another step farther back and have some clear view of
the objects of each ; thus we must start with these objects,
e.g. with food, with what is perceptible, or with what is
intelligible.

It follows that first of all we must treat of nutrition and
reproduction, 1 for the nutritive soul is found along with
all the others and is the most primitive and widely distributed
power of soul, being indeed that one in virtue of which all

25 are said to have life. The acts in which it manifests itself
are reproduction and the use of food reproduction, I
say, because for any living thing that has reached its normal
development and which is unmutilated, and whose mode of
generation is not spontaneous, the most natural act is the pro
duction of another like itself, an animal producing an animal,
a plant a plant, in order that, as far as its nature allows, it
4i5 b may partake in the eternal and divine. That is the goal
towards which all things strive, that for the sake of which
they do whatsoever their nature renders possible. The
phrase for the sake of which is ambiguous ; it may mean
either (a) the end to achieve which, or (b) the being in whose
interest, the act is done. Since then no living thing is able
to partake in what is eternal and divine by uninterrupted
continuance (for nothing perishable can for ever remain one
5 and the same), it tries to achieve that end in the only way
possible to it, and success is possible in varying degrees ;
so it remains not indeed as the self-same individual but
continues its existence in something like itself not numeri
cally but specifically one. 2

The soul is the cause or source of the living body.
The terms cause and source have many senses. But the
soul is the cause of its body alike in all three senses which

10 we explicitly recognize. It is (a) the source or origin of

1 Sc. which we shall see to be inseparable from nutrition .

2 There is an unbroken current of the same specific life flowing
through a discontinuous series of individual beings of the same species
united by descent.

BOOK II. 4 4i5 b

movement, it is (b) the end, it is (c) the essence of the
whole living body.

That it is the last, is clear ; for in everything the essence
is identical with the ground of its being, and here, in the
case of living things, their being is to live, and of their being
and their living the soul in them is the cause or source.
Further, the actuality of whatever is potential is identical
with its formulable essence.

It is manifest that the soul is also the final cause of its 15
body. For Nature, like mind, always does whatever it does
for the sake of something, which something is its end. To
that something corresponds in the case of animals the soul
,and in this it follows the order of nature ; all natural bodies
are organs of the soul. This is true of those that enter
into the constitution of plants as well as of those which
enter into that of animals. This shows that that for the
sake of which they are is soul. We must here recall the two 2 &lt;&gt;
sensesof that for the sake of which , viz, (a) the end to achieve
which, and (b) the being in whose interest, anything is or is
done.

We must maintain, further, that the soul is also the
cause of the living body as the original source of local
movement. The power of locomotion is not found, however,
in all living things. But change of quality and change of
quantity are also due to the soul. Sensation is held to be
a qualitative alteration, and nothing except what has soul
in it is capable of sensation. The same holds of the quan- 25
titative changes which constitute growth and decay; nothing
grows or decays naturally 1 except what feeds itself, and
nothing feeds itself except what has a share of soul in it.

Empedocles is wrong in adding that growth in plants is
to be explained, the downward rooting by the natural tend
ency of earth to travel downwards, and the upward branching 4i6 a
by the similar natural tendency of fire to travel upwards.
For he misinterprets up and down ; up and down are not
for all things what they are for the whole Cosmos : if we
are to distinguish and identify organs according to their
functions, the roots of plants are analogous to the head in 5
1 i.e. of itself.
D 2

4 i6 a DE ANIMA

animals. Further, we must ask what is the force that holds
together the earth and the fire which tend to travel in
contrary directions ; if there is no counteracting force, they
will be torn asunder ; if there is, this must be the soul and
the cause of nutrition and growth. By some the element
of fire is held to be the cause of nutrition and growth,

10 for it alone of the primary bodies or elements is observed
to feed and increase itself. Hence the suggestion that in
both plants and animals it is it which is the operative force.
A concurrent cause in a sense it certainly is, but not the

15 principal cause ; that is rather the soul ; for while the
growth of fire goes on without limit so long as there is
a supply of fuel, in the case of all complex wholes formed in
the course of nature there is a limit or ratio which deter
mines their size and increase, and limit and ratio are marks
of soul but not of fire, and belong to the side of formulable
essence rather than that of matter.

Nutrition and reproduction are due to one and the same
psychic power. It is necessary first to give precision to our

20 account of food, for it is by this function of absorbing food
that this psychic power is distinguished from all the others.
The current view is that what serves as food to a living
thing is what is contrary to it not that in every pair of
contraries each is food to the other : to be food a contrary
must not only be transformable into the other and vice versa,
it must also in so doing increase the bulk of the other.
Many a contrary is transformed into its other and vice versa,
where neither is even a quantum and so cannot increase in

25 bulk, e.g. an invalid into a healthy subject. It is clear that
not even those contraries which satisfy both the conditions
mentioned above are food to one another in precisely the
same sense ; water may be said to feed fire, but not fire
water. Where the members of the pair are elementary bodies
only one of the contraries, it would appear, can be said to
feed the other. But there is a difficulty here. One set of

30 thinkers assert that like is fed, as well as increased in
amount, by like. Another set, as we have said, maintain
the very reverse, viz. that what feeds and what is fed are
contrary to one another ; like, they argue, is incapable of

BOOK II. 4 4i6

being affected by like ; but food is changed in the process
of digestion, and change is always to what is opposite or to
what is intermediate. Further, food is acted upon by 35
what is nourished by it, not the other way round, as timber
is worked by a carpenter and not conversely ; there is a
change in the carpenter but it is merely a change from not-
working to working. In answering this problem it makes
all the difference whether we mean by the food the finished
or the * raw product. If we use the word food of both, viz.
of the completely undigested and the completely digested
matter, we can justify both the rival accounts of it ; taking 5
food in the sense of undigested matter, it is the contrary of
what is fed by it, taking it as digested it is like what is fed
by it. Consequently it is clear that in a certain sense we may
say that both parties are right, both wrong.

Since nothing except what is alive can be fed, what is
fed is the besouled body and just because it has soul in it.
Hence food is essentially related to what has soul in it. 10
Food has a power which is other than the power to increase
the bulk of what is fed by it ; so far forth as what has soul
in it is a quantum, food may increase its quantity, but it is
only so far as what has soul in it is a this-somewhat or
substance that food acts as food ; in that case it maintains
the being of what is fed, and that continues to be what it is
so long as the process of nutrition continues. Further, it is 15
the agent in generation, i.e. not the generation of the indi
vidual fed but the reproduction of another like it ; the
substance of the individual fed is already in existence ;
the existence of no substance is a self-generation but only
a self-maintenance.

Hence the psychic power which we are now studying
may be described as that which tends to maintain whatever
has this power in it of continuing such as it was, and food
helps it to do its work. That is why, if deprived of food, "
it must cease to be.

The process of nutrition involves three factors, (a) what 20
is fed, (b) that wherewith it is fed, (c) what does the feeding
of these (c) is the first soul, 1 (a) the body which has that
1 i.e. the earliest and most indispensable kind of soul.

4i6 b DE AN I MA

soul in it, (b) the food. But since it is right to call things
after the ends they realize, and the end of this soul is to
generate another being like that in which it is, the first soul
35 ought to be named the reproductive soul. The expression
(b) wherewith it is fed is ambiguous just as is the expression
wherewith the ship is steered ; that may mean either (i)
the hand or (ii) the rudder, i.e. either (i) what is moved
and sets in movement, or (ii) what is merely moved. We
can apply this analogy here if we recall that all food must
be capable of being digested, and that what produces diges
tion is warmth ; that is why everything that has soul in it
possesses warmth.

We have now given an outline account of the nature of
food ; further details must be given in the appropriate
place. 1

Having made these distinctions let us now speak of 5
sensation in the widest sense. Sensation depends, as we
have said, 2 on a process of movement or affection from
without, for it is held to be some sort of change of quality.
35 Now some thinkers assert that like is affected only by like;
4 1 ? in what sense this is possible and in what sense impossible,
we have explained in our general discussion of acting and
being acted upon. 3

Here arises a problem : why do we not perceive the senses
themselves 4 as well as the external objects of sense, or why
without the stimulation of external objects do they not
produce sensation, seeing that they contain in themselves
5 fire, earth, and all the other elements, which are the
direct or indirect objects of sense? It is clear that what
is sensitive is so only potentially, not actually. The
power of sense is parallel to what is combustible, for that
never ignites itself spontaneously, but requires an agent
which has the power of starting ignition; otherwise it could
have set itself on fire, and would not have needed actual
fire to set it ablaze.

1 In a lost (or never written) work On Nutrition or On Increase
and Nutrition; cf.Bonitz, Index lO4 b 16-28.

2 41 5 b 24, cf. 4io a 25. 3 De Gen. et Corr. 323 b 18 ff.
4 This probably means the sensoria.

BOOK II.5 417*

In reply we must recall that we use the word perceive
in two ways, for we say (a) that what has the power to 10
hear or see, * sees or hears , even though it is at the
moment asleep, and also (b) that what is actually seeing or
hearing, * sees or hears . Hence sense too must have
two meanings, sense potential, and sense actual. Similarly
to be a sentient means either (a) to have a certain power or
(b) to manifest a certain activity. To begin with, for a time,
let us speak as if there were no difference between (i) being 15
moved or affected, and (ii) being active, for movement is a
kind of activity an imperfect kind, as has elsewhere been
explained. 1 Everything that is acted upon or moved is acted
upon by an agent which is actually at work. Hence it is
that in one sense, as has already been stated, 2 what acts and
what is acted upon are like, in another unlike, i. e. prior to and ao
during the change the two factors are unlike, after it like.

But we must now distinguish not only betivcen what is
potential and what is actual but also different senses in
which things can be said to be potential or actual ; up to
now we have been speaking as if each of these phrases had
only one sense. We can speak of something as a knower
either (a) as when we say that man is a knower, meaning
that man falls within the class of beings that know or have
knowledge, or (b) as when we are speaking of a man who 35
possesses a knowledge of grammar ; each of these is so
called as having in him a certain potentiality, but there is a
difference between their respective potentialities, the one
(a) being a potential knower, because his kind or matter is
such and such, the other (b}, because he can in the absence
of any external counteracting cause realize his knowledge
in actual knowing at will. This implies a third meaning of
a knower (c), one who is already realizing his knowledge
he is a knower in actuality and in the most proper sense
is knowing, e. g. this A. 3 Both the former are potential 30
knowers, who realize their respective potentialities, the one
(a) by change of quality, i. e. repeated transitions from one

3 i.e. this individual item of grammatical knowledge, e.g. that the 1st
person singular of the perfect indicative active of Auoo ends in -a.

4i7 a DE ANIMA

state to its opposite 1 under instruction, the other (b) by the
4 1 ? transition from the inactive possession of sense or grammar
to their active exercise. The two kinds of transition are
distinct.

Also the expression to be acted upon has more than
one meaning; it may mean either (a) the extinction of one
of two contraries by the other, or (b) the maintenance of
what is potential by the agency of what is actual and already
like what is acted upon, with such likeness as is compatible

5 with one s being actual and the other potential. For what
possesses knowledge becomes an actual knower by a transi
tion which is either not an alteration of it at all (being in
reality a development into its true self or actuality) or at
least an alteration in a quite different sense from the usual
meaning.

Hence it is wrong to speak of a wise man as being
altered when he uses his wisdom, just as it would be absurd
to speak of a builder as being altered when..he is using his
skill in building a house.

10 What in the case of knowing or understanding leads from
potentiality to actuality ought not to be called teaching 2
but something else. That which starting with the power
to know learns or acquires knowledge through the agency
of one who actually knows and has the power of teaching
either (a) ought not to be said to be acted upon at all or

15 (b) we must recognize two senses of alteration, viz. (i) the
substitution of one quality tor another, the first being the
contrary of the second, or (ii) the development of an existent
quality from potentiality in the direction of fixity or nature.
In the case of what is to possess sense, the first tran&gt;ition
is due to the action of the male parent and takes place before
birth so th it at birth the living thing is, in respect of sen
sation, at the stage which corresponds to the possession of
knowledge. Actual sensation corresponds to the stage of
the exercise of knowledge. But between the two cases

30 compared there is a difference; the objects that excite the
sensory powers to activity, the seen, the heard, &c., are out-

1 viz. from ignorance or error to knowledge or truth.

2 It would have been clearer had he said learning .

BOOK II. 5 4i7 b

side. The ground of this difference is that what actual
sensation apprehends is individuals, while what knowledge
apprehends is universals, and these are in a sense within
the soul. That is why a man can exercise his knowledge
when he wishes, but his sensation does not depend upon
himself a sensible object must be there. A similar 25
statement must be made about our knoivledge of what is
sensible on the same ground, viz. that the sensible objects
are individual and external.

A later more appropriate occasion may be found 1
thoroughly to clear up all this. At present it must be 30
enough to recognize the distinctions already drawn ; a thing
may be said to be potential in either of two senses, (a) in
the sense in which we might say of a boy that he may
become a general or (b) in the sense in which we might say
the same of an adult, and there are two corresponding senses
of the term a potential sentient . There are no separate 4i8 a
names for the two stages of potentiality; we have pointed out
that they are different and how they are different. We can
not help using the incorrect terms being acted upon or
altered of the two transitions involved. As we have said, 2
what has the power of sensation is potentially like what
the perceived object is actually ; that is, while at the beginning
of the process of its being acted upon the two interacting
factors are dissimilar, at the end the one acted upon is 5
assimilated to the other and is identical in quality with it.

6 In dealing with each of the senses we shall have first to
speak of the objects which are perceptible by each. The
term object of sense covers three kinds of objects, two
kinds of which are, in our language, directly perceptible,
while the remaining one is only incidentally perceptible. Of
the first two kinds one (a) consists of what is perceptible
by a single sense, the other (b) of what is perceptible by any 10
and all of the senses. 3 I call by the name of special
object of this or that sense that which cannot be perceived
by any other sense than that one and in respect of which no

1 iii. 4, 5- 2 4i? a 12-20.

3 Really, it is enough if it is perceptible by more than one sense.

4i8 a DE ANIMA

error is possible ; in this sense colour is the special object
of sight, sound of hearing, flavour of taste. Touch,
indeed, discriminates more than one set of different qualities.

15 Each sense has one kind of object which it discerns, and
never errs in reporting that what is before it is colour or
sound (though it may err as to what it is that is coloured
or where that is, or what it is that is sounding or where that
is). Such objects are what we propose to call the special
objects of this or that sense.

Common sensibles are movement, rest, number, figure,
magnitude ; these are not peculiar to any one sense, but are
common to all. There are at any rate certain kinds of
movement which are perceptible both by touch and by
sight.

ao We speak of an incidental object of sense where e. g. the
white object which we see is the son of Diares ; here
because being the son of Diares is incidental to the directly
visible white patch we speak of the son of Diares as being
(incidentally) perceived or seen by us. Because this is
only incidentally an object of sense, it in no way as such
affects the senses. Of the two former kinds, both of which
are in their own nature perceptible by sense, the first kind
that of special objects of the several senses constitute

35 the objects of sense in the strictest sense of the term and it
is to them that in the nature of things the structure of
each several sense is adapted.

The object of sight is the visible, and what is visible is 7
(a) colour and (b) a certain kind of object which can be
described in words but which has no single name ; what
we mean by (b) will be abundantly clear as we proceed.
Whatever is visible is colour and colour is what lies upon
30 what is in its own nature visible ; in its own nature here
means not that visibility is involved in the definition of
what thus underlies colour, but that that substratum
contains in itself the cause of visibility. Every colour has
in it the power to set in movement what is actually trans-
4i8 b parent ; that power constitutes its very nature. That is
why it is not visible except with the help of light ; it

BOOK II. 7 4i8 b

is only in light that the colour of a thing is seen. Hence
our first task is to explain what light is.

Now there clearly is something which is transparent,
and by transparent I mean what is visible, and yet not ?
visible in itself, but rather owing its visibility to the colour
of something else; of this character are air, water, and
many solid bodies. Neither air nor water is transparent
because it is air or water ; they are transparent because
each of them has contained in it a certain substance which is
the same in both and is also found in the eternal body
which constitutes the uppermost shell of the physical
Cosmos. Of this substance light is the activity the
activity of what is transparent so far forth as it has in it
the determinate power of becoming transparent ; where 10
this power is present, there is also the potentiality of the
contrary, viz. darkness. Light is as it were the proper
colour of what is transparent, and exists whenever the
potentially transparent is excited to actuality by the
influence of fire or something resembling the uppermost
body ; for fire too contains something which is one and
the same with the substance in question.

We have now explained what the transparent is and
what light is; light is neither fire nor any kind whatsoever
of body nor an efflux from any kind of body (if it were, it 15
would again itself be a kind of body) it is the presence of
fire or something resembling fire in what is transparent.
It is certainly not a body, for two bodies cannot be present
in the same place. The opposite of light is darkness ;
darkness is the absence from what is transparent of the
corresponding positive state above characterized ; clearly
therefore, light is just the presence of that.

Empedocles (and with him all others who used the same 30
forms of expression) was wrong in speaking of light as
travelling or being at a given moment between the earth
and its envelope, its movement being unobservable by us ;
that view is contrary both to the clear evidence of argument
and to the observed facts ; if the distance traversed were
short, the movement might have been unobservable, but where 35
the distance is from extreme East to extreme West, the
draught upon our powers of belief is too great.

4i8 b DE ANIMA

What is capable of taking on colour is what in itself is
colourless, as what can take on sound is what is soundless;
what is colourless includes (a) what is transparent and (b)
what is invisible or scarcely visible, i. e. what is dark .

30 The latter (b) is the same as what is transparent, when it is
potentially, not of course when it is actually transparent ;
it is the same substance which is now darkness, now
light.

4i9 a Not everything that is visible depends upon light for its
visibility. This is only true of the proper colour of things.
Some objects of sight which in light are invisible, in
darkness stimulate the sense ; that is, things that appear
fiery or shining. This class of objects has no simple

5 common name, but instances of it are fungi, flesh, 1 heads,
scales, and eyes of fish. In none of these is what is seen their
own proper 1 colour. Why we see these at all is another
question. At present what is obvious is that what is seen
in light is always colour. That is why without the help of
light colour remains invisible. Its being colour at all

10 means precisely its having in it the power to set in move
ment what is already actually transparent, and, as we
have seen, the actuality of what is transparent is just
light.

The following experiment makes the necessity of a
medium clear. If what has colour is placed in immediate
contact with the eye, it cannot be seen. Colour sets in
movement not the sense organ but what is transparent,
e.g. the air, and that, extending continuously from the

15 object of the organ, sets the latter in movement. Demo-
critus misrepresents the facts when he expresses the
opinion that if the interspace were empty one could dis
tinctly see an ant on the vault of the sky ; that is an impos
sibility. Seeing is due to an affection or change of what has
the perceptive faculty, and it cannot be affected by the seen
colour itself; it remains that it must be affected by what
comes between. Hence it is indispensable that there be

ao something in between if there were nothing, so far from

1 Reading Kpfns in 1. 5 with Chandler. In fact flesh is, and horn is
not, an instance of the class.

BOOK II. 7 4 i9 a

seeing with greater distinctness, we should see nothing at
all.

We have now explained the cause why colour cannot be
seen otherwise than in light. Fire on the other hand is seen
both in darkness and in light ; this double possibility
follows necessarily from our theory, for it is just fire
that makes what is potentially transparent actually trans
parent.

The same account holds also of sound and smell ; if 25
the object of either of these senses is in immediate contact
with the organ no sensation is produced. In both cases
the object sets in movement only what lies between, and
this in turn sets the organ in movement : if what sounds or
smells is brought into immediate contact with the organ,
no sensation will be produced. The same, in spite of all 30
appearances, applies also to touch and taste ; \vhy there is
this apparent difference will be clear later. 1 What comes
between in the case of sounds is air ; the corresponding
medium in the case of smell has no name. But, corre
sponding to what is transparent in the case of colour, there
is a quality found both in air and water, which serves as
a medium for what has smell I say in water 1 because 35
animals that live in water as well as those that live on land
seem to possess the sense of smell, and in air because 4iQ b
man and all other land animals that breathe, perceive smells
only when they breathe air in. The explanation of this
too will be given later. 2

8 Now let us, to begin with, make certain distinctions about
sound and hearing.

Sound may mean either of two things (a) actual, and 5
(b) potential, sound. There are certain things which, as
we say, l have no sound , e. g. sponges or wool, others which
have, e. g. bronze and in general all things which are smooth
and solid the latter are said to have a sound because they
can make a sound, i. e. can generate actual sound between
themselves and the organ of hearing.

Actual sound requires for its occurrence (i, ii) two such
1 422 b 34 ff. 2 42i b 13-422* 6.

4ig b DE ANIMA

10 bodies and (iii) a space between them; for it is generated
by an impact. Hence it is impossible for one body only to
generate a sound there must be a body impinging and a
body impinged upon ; what sounds does so by striking
against something else, and this is impossible without a
movement from place to place.

As we have said, not all bodies can by impact on one
another produce sound ; impact on wool makes no sound,

15 while the impact on bronze or any body which is smooth
and hollow does. Bronze gives out a sound when struck
because it is smooth ; bodies which are hollow owing to
reflection repeat the original impact over and over again,
the body originally set in movement being unable to escape
from the concavity.

Further, we must remark that sound is heard both in air
and in water, though less distinctly in the latter. Yet
neither air nor water is the principal cause of sound.

20 What is required for the production of sound is an impact
of two solids against one another and against the air. The
latter condition is satisfied when the air impinged upon
does not retreat before the blow, i. e. is not dissipated by it.
That is why it must be struck with a sudden sharp blow,
if it is to sound the movement of the whip must outrun
the dispersion of the air, just as one might get in a stroke
at a heap or whirl of sand as it was travelling rapidly past.

25 An echo occurs, when, a mass of air having been unified,
bounded, and prevented from dissipation by the containing
walls of a vessel, the air originally struck by the impinging
body and set in movement by it rebounds from this mass
of air like a ball from a wall. It is probable that in all
generation of sound echo takes place, though it is frequently
only indistinctly heard. What happens here must be
analogous to what happens in the case of light ; light is

30 always reflected otherwise it would not be diffused and
outside what was directly illuminated by the sun there
would be blank darkness ; but this reflected light is not
always strong enough, as it is when it is reflected from water,
bronze, and other smooth bodies, to cast a shadow, which
is the distinguishing mark by which we recognize light.

BOOK II. 8 4i9 b

It is rightly said that an empty space plays the chief
part in the production of hearing, for what people mean by
the vacuum is the air, which is what causes hearing,
when that air is set in movement as one continuous mass ;
but owing to its friability it emits no sound, being dissipated 35
by impinging upon any surface which is not smooth. When 420*
the surface on which it impinges is quite smooth, what is
produced by the original impact is a united mass, a result
due to the smoothness of the surface with which the air is
in contact at the other end.

What has the power of producing sound is what has the
power of setting in movement a single mass of air which
is continuous from the impinging body up to the organ of
hearing. The organ of hearing is physically united with
air, 1 and because it is in air, the air inside is moved con
currently with the air outside. Hence animals do not hear 5
with all parts of their bodies, nor do all parts admit of the
entrance of air ; for even the part which can be moved and
cansound has not air everywhere in it. 2 Air in itself is, owing
to its friability, quite soundless ; only when its dissipation
is prevented is its movement sound. The air in the car
is built into a chamber just to prevent this dissipating
movement, in order that the animal may accurately appre- 10
hend all varieties of the movements of the air outside.
That is why we hear also in water, viz. because the water
cannot get into the air chamber or even, owing to the
spirals, into the outer ear. If this does happen, hearing ceases,
as it also does if the tympanic membrane is damaged,
just as sight ceases if the membrane covering the pupil is
damaged. It is also a test of deafness whether the ear does 15
or does not reverberate like a horn; the air inside the ear has
always a movement of its own, but the sound we hear is
always the sounding of something else, not of the organ
itself. That is why we say that we hear with what is empty
and echoes, viz. because what we hear with is a chamber
which contains a bounded mass of air.

1 i.e. it has air incorporated in its structure.

2 Reading iptyofyov in 1. 7 : the required air is localized not only in the
body but in the ear.

43o a DE ANIMA

Which is it that sounds , the striking body or the struck ?

ao Is not the answer it is both, but each in a different way ?
Sound is a movement of what can rebound from a smooth
surface when struck against it. As we have explained l not
everything sounds when it strikes or is struck, e.g. if one
needle is struck against another, neither emits any sound.

25 In order, therefore, that sound may be generated, what is
struck must be smooth, to enable the air to rebound and be
shaken off from it in one piece.

The distinctions between different sounding bodies show
themselves only in actual sound ; 2 as without the help of
light colours remain invisible, so without the help of actual
sound the distinctions between acute and grave sounds
remain inaudible. Acute and grave are here metaphors,
transferred from their proper sphere, viz. that of touch,

30 where they mean respectively (a) what moves the sense
much in a short time, (b) what moves the sense little in a
long time. Not that what is sharp really moves fast, and
what is grave, slowly, but that the difference in the qualities
of the one and the other movement is due to their respective
42O b speeds. There seems to be a sort of parallelism between
what is acute or ^rave to hearing and what is sharp or
blunt to touch ; what is sharp as it were stabs, while what
is blunt pushes, the one producing its effect in a short, the
other in a long time, so that the one is quick, the other
slow.

5 Let the foregoing suffice as an analysis of sound. Voice
is a kind of sound characteristic of what has soul in it ;
nothing that is without soul utters voice, it being only by
a metaphor that we speak of the voice of the flute or the lyre
or generally of what (being without soul) possesses the
power of producing a succession of notes which differ in
length and pitch and timbre. The metaphor is based on
the fact that all these differences are found also in voice.
Many animals are voiceless, e.g. all non-sanguineous animals

10 and among sanguineous animals fish. This is just what we
should expect, since voice is a certain movement of air.

1 4i9 b 6, 13.

2 i. e. when these bodies, e.g. the strings of a lyre, are actually sounding.

BOOK II. 8 420 b

The fish, like those in the Achelous, which are said to have
voice, really make the sounds with their gills or some
similar organ. Voice is the sound made by an animal, and
that with a special organ. As we saw, everything that
makes a sound does so by the impact of something (a) against
something ehe, (b] across a space, (c) filled with air; hence 15
it is only to be expected that no animals utter voice except
those which take in air. Once air is inbreathed, Nature
uses it for two different purposes, as the tongue is used both
for tasting and for articulating; in that case of the two
functions tasting is necessary for the animal s existence
(hence it is found more widely distributed), while articulate
speech is a luxury subserving its possessor s well-being;
similarly in the former case Nature employs the breath 20
both as an indispensable means to the regulation of the
inner temperature of the living body and also as the matter
of articulate voice, in the interests of its possessor s well-
being. Why its former use is indispensable must be
discussed elsewhere. 1

The organ of respiration is the windpipe, and the organ
to which this is related as means to end is the lungs. The
latter is the part of the body by which the temperature of
land animals is raised above that of all others. But what 25
primarily requires the air drawn in by respiration is not
only this but the region surrounding the heart. That is
why when animals bieathe the air must penetrate inwards.

Voice then is the impact of the inbreathed air against
the windpipe , and the agent that produces the impact is
the soul resident in these parts of the body. Not every
sound, as we said, made by an animal is voice (even with 30
the tongue we may merely make a sound which is not
voice, or without the tongue as in coughing) ; what produces
the impact must have soul in it and must be accompanied
by an net of imagination, for voice is a sound with a
meaning, and is not merely the result of any impact of the
breath as in coughing ; in voice the breath in the windpipe
is used as an instrument to knock with against the walls of
the windpipe. This is confirmed by our inability to speak 421
1 De Resp. 478** 28 ; P. A. 642* 3i- b 4.

645-19 E

42i a DE ANIMA

when we are breathing either out or in we can only do so
by holding our breath ; we make the movements with the
breath so checked. It is clear also why fish are voiceless ;
they have no windpipe. And they have no windpipe
5 because they do not breathe or take in air. Why they do
not is a question belonging to another inquiry. 1

Smell and its object are much less easy to determine 9
than what we have hitherto discussed ; the distinguishing
characteristic of the object of smell is less obvious than
those of sound or colour. The ground of this is that our
power of smell is less discriminating and in general inferior

10 to that of many species of animals ; men have a poor sense
of smell and our apprehension of its proper objects is inse
parably bound up with and so confused by pleasure and
pain, which shows that in us the organ is inaccurate. It is
probable that there is a parallel failure in the perception
of colour by animals that have hard eyes: probably they
discriminate differences of colour only by the presence or

15 absence of what excites fear, and that it is thus that human
beings distinguish smells. It seems that there is an analogy
between smell and taste, and that the species of tastes
run parallel to those of smells the only difference being
that our sense of taste is more discriminating than our sense
of smell, because the former is a modification of touch,
which reaches in man the maximum of discriminative

ao accuracy. While in respect of all the other senses we fall
below many species of animals, in respect of touch we far
excel all other species in exactness of discrimination. That
is why man is the most intelligent of all animals. This is
confirmed by the fact that it is to differences in the organ
of touch and to nothing else that the differences between
man and man in respect of natural endowment are due ;

25 men whose flesh is hard are ill-endowed by nature, men whose
flesh is soft, well-endowed.

As flavours may be divided into (a) sweet, (b) bitter, so
with smells. In some things the flavour and the smell have
the same quality, i.e. both are sweet or both bitter, in others
1 Cf. De Resp. 474** 25-9, 476 a 6-15 ; P. A. 669* 2-5.

BOOK II. 9 42i a

they diverge. Similarly a smell, like a flavour, may be
pungent, astringent, acid, or succulent. But, as we said, 30
because smells are much less easy to discriminate than
flavours, the names of these varieties are applied to smells
only metaphorically ; for example sweet is extended from 42i b
the taste to the smell of saffron or honey, * pungent to that
of thyme, and so on. 1

In the same sense in which hearing has for its object
both the audible and the inaudible, sight both the visible 5
and the invisible, smell has for its object both the odorous
and the inodorous. Inodorous may be either (a) what
has no smell at all, or (b) what has a small or feeble smell.
The same ambiguity lurks in the word * tasteless .

Smelling, like the operation of the senses previously
examined, takes place through a medium, i.e. through air
or water I add water, because water-animals too (both 10
sanguineous and non-sanguineous) seem to smell just as
much as land-animals ; at any rate some of them make
directly for their food from a distance if it has any scent.
That is why the following facts constitute a problem for us.
All animals smell in the same way, but man smells only
when he inhales ; if he exhales or holds his breath, he ceases
to smell, no difference being made whether the odorous 15
object is distant or near, or even placed inside the nose and
actually on the wall of the nostril ; it is a disability common
to all the senses not to perceive what is in immediate contact
with the organ of sense, but our failure to apprehend what
is odorous without the help of inhalation is peculiar (the
fact is obvious on making the experiment). Now since
bloodless animals do not breathe, they must, it might be 2
argued, have some novel sense not reckoned among the
usual five. Our reply must be that this is impossible,
since it is scent that is perceived ; a sense that apprehends
what is odorous and what has a good or bad odour cannot
be anything but smell. Further, they are observed to be
deleteriously effected by the same strong odours as man is,
e.g. bitumen, sulphur, and the like. These animals must 35

1 Because of the felt likeness between the respective smells and the
really sweet or pungent tastes of the same herbs, c.

E a

42i b DE ANIMA

be able to smell without being able to breathe. The prob
able explanation is that in man the organ of smell has a
certain superiority over that in all other animals just as his
eyes have over those of hard-eyed animals. Man s eyes have
in the eyelids a kind of shelter or envelope, which must be
30 shifted or drawn back in order that we may see, while hard-
eyed animals have nothing of the kind, but at once see
whatever presents itself in the transparent medium. Simi
larly in certain species of animals the organ of smell is like
422* the eye of hard-eyed animals, uncurtained, while in others
which take in air it probably has a curtain over it, which
is drawn back in inhalation, owing to the dilating of the
veins or pores. } That explains also why such animals cannot
5 smell under water ; to smell they must first inhale, and that
they cannot do under water.

Smells come from what is dry as flavours from what is
moist. Consequently the organ of smell is potentially dry.

What can be tasted is always something that can be 10
touched, and just for that reason it cannot be perceived
through an interposed foreign body, for touch means the

10 absence of any intervening body. Further, the flavoured
and tastcable body is suspended in a liquid matter, and this
is tangible. Hence, if we lived in water, we should perceive
a sweet object introduced into the water, but the water
would not be the medium through which we perceived;
our perception would be due to the solution of the sweet
substance in what we imbibed, just as if it were mixed with
some drink. There is no parallel here to the perception of
colour, which is due neither to any blending of anything
with anything, nor to any efflux of anything from anything.

15 In the case of taste, there is nothing corresponding to the
medium in the case of the senses previously discussed ;
but as the object of sight is colour, so the object of taste
is flavour. But nothing excites a perception of flavour
without the help of liquid ; what acts upon the sense of
taste must be either actually or potentially liquid like what
is saline ; it must be both (a) itself easily dissolved, and (b)

20 capable of dissolving along with itself the tongue. Taste

BOOK II. 10 422*

apprehends both (a) what has taste and (b) what has no
taste, if we mean by (b) what has only a slight or feeble
flavour or what tends to destroy the sense of taste. In this
it is exactly parallel to sight, which apprehends both what
is visible and what is invisible (for darkness is invisible and
yet is discriminated by sight ; so is, in a different way, what
is over-brilliant), and to hearing, which apprehends both
sound and silence, of which the one is audible and the other
inaudible, and also over-loud sound. This corresponds in 35
the case of hearing to over-bright light in the case of sight.
As a faint sound is inaudible , so in a sense is a loud or
violent sound. The word invisible and similar privative
terms cover not only (a) what is simply without some power,
but also (b) what is adapted by nature to have it but has
not it or has it only in a very low degree, as when we say
that a species of swallow is footless or that a variety of
fruit is stoneless - 1 So too taste has as its object both
what can be tasted and the tasteless the latter in the sense 30
of what has little flavour or a bad flavour or one destructive
of taste. The difference between what is tasteless and
what is not seems to rest ultimately on that between what
is drinkable and what is undrinkable both are tasteable,
but the latter is bad and tends to destroy taste, while the
former is the normal stimulus of taste. What is drinkable
is the common object of both touch and taste.

Since what can be tasted is liquid, the organ for its per- 422 b
ception cannot be either (a} actually liquid or (b) incapable
of becoming liquid. Tasting means a being affected by 2
what can be tasted as such ; hence the organ of taste must
be liquefied, and so to start with must be non-liquid but
capable of liquefaction without loss of its distinctive nature.
This is confirmed by the fact that the tongue cannot taste 5
either when it is too dry or when it is too moist ; in the
latter case what occurs is due to a contact with the pre-
existent moisture in the tongue itself, when after a foretaste
of some strong flavour we try to taste another flavour ; it is
in this way that sick persons find everything they taste

1 Cf. Hist. An. 48; b 24-29 and Frag. 267 R.

2 Sc. * and so, as we have seen, a being assimilated to .

422 b DE ANIMA

bitter, viz. because, when they taste, their tongues are over
flowing with bitter moisture.

* The species of flavour are, as in the case of colour, (a)
simple, i.e. the two contraries, the sweet and the bitter, (b)
secondary, viz. (i) on the side of the sweet, the succulent,
(ii) on the side of the bitter, the saline, (iii) between
these come the pungent, the harsh, the astringent, and the
acid ; these pretty well exhaust the varieties of flavour.

15 It follows that what has the power of tasting is what is
potentially of that kind, and that what is tasteable is what
has the power of making it actually what it itself already is.

Whatever can be said of what is tangible, can be said of n
touch, and vice versa ; if touch is not a single sense but a
group of senses, there must be several kinds of what is
tangible. It is a problem whether touch is a single sense

20 or a group of senses. It is also a problem, what is the
organ of touch ; is it or is it not the flesh (including what
in certain animals is homologous with flesh) ? On the
second view, flesh is the medium of touch, the real organ
being situated farther inward. The problem arises because
the field of each sense is according to the accepted view
determined as the range between a single pair of contraries?
white and black for sight, acute and grave for hearing,

25 bitter and sweet for taste ; but in the field of what is
tangible we find several such pairs, hot cold, dry moist,
hard soft, &c. This problem finds a partial solution, when it
is recalled that in the case of the other senses more than one
pair of contraries are to be met with, e. g. in sound not only

3 acute and grave but loud and soft, smooth and rough,
&c.; there are similar contrasts in the field of colour. Never
theless we are unable clearly to detect in the case of touch
what the single subject is which underlies the contrasted
qualities and corresponds to sound in the case of hearing.
To the question whether the organ of touch lies inward
or not (i.e. whether we need look any farther than the flesh),
4 2 3 a no indication in favour of the second answer can be drawn
from the fact that if the object comes into contact with the
flesh it is at once perceived. For even under present

BOOK II. ii 423 a

conditions if the experiment is made of making a web and
stretching it tight over the flesh, as soon as this web is
touched the sensation is reported in the same manner as
before, yet it is clear that the organ is not in this membrane.
If the membrane could be grown on to the flesh, the report 5
would travel still quicker. The flesh plays in touch very
much the same part as would be played in the other
senses by an air-envelope growing round our body ; had we
such an envelope attached to us we should have supposed
that it was by a single organ that we perceived sounds,
colours, and smells, and we should have taken sight, hearing,
and smell to be a single sense. But as it is, because that Io
through which the different movements are transmitted is
not naturally attached to our bodies, the difference of the
various sense-organs is too plain to miss. But in the case
of touch the obscurity remains.

There must be such a naturally attached medium as
flesh, for no living body could be constructed of air or
water ; it must be something solid. Consequently it must
be composed of earth along with these, which is just what
flesh and its analogue in animals which have no true flesh
tend to be. Hence of necessity the medium through which 15
are transmitted the manifoldly contrasted tactual qualities
must be a body naturally attached to the organism. That
they are manifold is clear when we consider touching with
the tongue ; we apprehend at the tongue all tangible quali
ties as well as flavour. Suppose all the rest of our flesh was,
like the tongue, sensitive to flavour, we should have identi
fied the sense of taste and the sense of touch ; what ao
saves us from this identification is the fact that touch and
taste are not always found together in the same part of the
body. The following problem might be raised. Let us
assume that every body has depth, i.e. has three dimensions,
and that if two bodies have a third body between them
they cannot be in contact with one another ; let us remember
that what is liquid is a body and must be or contain water, 25
and that if two bodies touch one another under water,
their touching surfaces cannot be dry, but must have water
between, viz. the water which wets their bounding surfaces ;

4 23 B DE ANIMA

from all this it follows that in water two bodies cannot be
in contact with one another. The same holds of two bodies
in air air being to bodies in air precisely what water is to
30 bodies in water but the facts are not so evident to our
observation, because we live in air, just as animals that live
in water would not notice that the things which touch one
another in water have wet surfaces. The problem, then, is :
does the perception of all objects of sense take place in the
same way, or does it not, e.g. taste and touch requiring
contact (as they are commonly thought to do), while all
other senses perceive over a distance ? The distinction

5 is unsound ; we perceive what is hard or soft, as well
as the objects of hearing, sight, and smell, through a
medium , only that the latter are perceived over a greater
distance th-in the former ; that is why the facts escape our
notice. For we do perceive everything through a medium;
but in these cases the fact escapes us. Yet, to repeat what
we said before, if the medium for touch were a membrane
separating us from the object without our observing its

10 existence, we should be relatively to it in the same condition
as we are now to air or water in which we are immersed ;
in their case we fancy we can touch objects, nothing coming in
between us and them. But there remains this difference
between what can be touched and what can be seen or can
sound ; in the latter two cases we perceive because the
medium produces a certain effect upon us, whereas in the
perception of objects of touch we are affected not by but

15 along with the medium ; it is as if a man were struck through
his shield, where the shock is not first given to th shield
and passed on to the man, but the concussion of both is
simultaneous. 1

In general, flesh and the tongue are related to the real
organs of touch and taste, as air and water are to those of

20 sight, hearing, and smell. Hence in neither the one case nor

1 As, according to Aristotle, transmission through atnftftummay be
timeless, the fact that there is no interval of time between the shock
to the shield and ihat to the body behind it, would not show that the
medium in touch was in any way different from that of any oi the other
senses. (V. Baeumker, Problem der Materie, pp. 5 5, 56.) The difference
is that in touch what is affected is in effect a single continuous body.

BOOK II. II 4*3 b

the other can there be any perception of an object if it is
placed immediately upon the organ, e.g. if a white object is
placed on the surface of the eye. This again shows that what
has the p &gt;wer of perceiving the tangible is seated inside.
Only so would there be a complete analogy with all the other
senses. In their case if you place the object on the organ
it is not perceived, here if you place it on the flesh it is 35
perceived ; therefore flesh is not the organ but the medium
of touch.

What can be touched are distinctive qualities of body as
body; by such differences I mean those which characterize
the elements, viz. hot cold, dry moist, of which we have
spoken earlier in our treatise on the elements. 1 The organ 30
for the perception of these is that of touch that part of
the body in which primarily the sense of touch resides.
This is that part which is potentially such as its object is
actually : for all sense-perception is a process of being so
affected ; so that that which makes something such as it itself 424*"
actually is makes the other such because the other is already
potentially such. That is why when an object of touch is
equally hot and cold or hard and soft we cannot perceive ;
what we perceive must have a degree of the sensible quality
lying beyond the neutral point. This implies that the sense
itself is a mean 2 between any two opposite qualities which
determine the field of that sense. It is to this that it owes its 5
power of discerning the objects in that field. What is * in the
middle is fitted to discern; relatively to either extreme it
can put itself in the place of the other. As what is to
perceive both white and black must, to begin with, be actually
neither but potentially either (and so with all the other
sense-organs), so the organ of touch must be neither hot
nor cold.

Further, as in a sense sight had 3 for its object both 10

1 De Gen. et Corr. ii. 2, 3.

24 The Mean is what possesses any two contrasting qualities in
equipoise ; what is so placed may be so related to more than one pair
of contraries. In general, each pair determines the range or field of
one sense, at the extremities of which they lie while the Mean occupies
the centre, but more than one pair may be found within the same field,
the Mean being equally central to all of them.

8 422* 20 ff.

44 a DE ANIMA

what was visible and what was invisible (and there was a
parallel truth about all the other senses discussed), 1 so touch
has for its object both what is tangible and what is intangible.
Here by intangible is meant (a) what like air possesses
some quality of tangible things in a very slight degree and
(b) what possesses it in an excessive degree, as destructive
things do.

15 We have now given an outline account of each of the several
senses.

The following results applying to any and every sense 12
may now be formulated.

(A) By a sense is meant what has the power of receiving
into itself the sensible forms of things without the matter.
This must be conceived of as taking place in the way in
which a piece of wax takes on the impress of a signet-ring

ao without the iron or gold; we say that what produces
the impression is a signet of bronze or gold, but its parti
cular metallic constitution makes no difference : in a similar
way the sense is affected by what is coloured or flavoured
or sounding, but it is indifferent what in each case the
substance is ; what alone matters is what quality it has, i.e.
in what ratio its constituents are combined. 2

(B) By an organ of sense is meant that in which
ultimately such a power is seated.

25 The sense and its organ are the same in fact, but their
essence is not the same. What perceives is, of course, a
spatial magnitude, but we must not admit that either the
having the power to perceive or the sense itself is a mag
nitude ; what they are is a certain ratio 3 or power in a

42 1 b 3-6, 422 a 29.

2 In any case of the action of one body X on another Y it is the form
of X that acts and the result is the presence in Fof a form identical
with that of X, which is therefore taken on by Y without the matter
which in X accompanied it. The peculiarity in the case of a sense
(not clearly indicated here) is that the form so induced is not present
in Y in the same way as it is in a merely physical or inanimate
body. This is brought out by St. Thomas in his commentary on the
passage.

5 The word here translated ratio is the word which elsewhere I
have rendered formulable essence ; it is declared by Aristotle to be
synonymous with form . It must not be regarded as identical with
the mere numerical proportion between the material ingredients or

BOOK II. 12 424 a

magnitude. This enables us to explain why objects of
sense which possess one of two opposite sensible qualities in
a degree largely in excess of the other opposite destroy the
organs of sense ; if the movement set up by an object is too 30
strong for the organ, the equipoise of contrary qualities in
the organ, which just is its sensory power, is disturbed ; it
is precisely as concord and tone are destroyed by too
violently twanging the strings of a lyre. This explains also
why plants cannot perceive, in spite of their having a portion
of soul in them and obviously being affected by tangible
objects themselves; for undoubtedly their temperature can
be lowered or raised. The explanation is that they have no 4 2 4 b
mean of contrary qualities, and so no principle in them cap
able of taking on the forms of sensible objects without
their matter; in the case of plants the affection is an affection
by form-and-matter together. The problem might be raised :
Can what cannot smell be said to be affected by smells or
what cannot see by colours, and so on ? It might be said that 5
a smell is just what can be smelt, and if it produces any
effect it Can only be so as to make something smell it, and
it might be argued that what cannot smell cannot be
affected by smells and further that what can smell can be
affected by it only in so far as it has in it the power to smell
(similarly with the proper objects of all the other senses).
Indeed that this is so is made quite evident as follows.
Light or darkness, sounds and smells leave bodies quite 10
unaffected ; what does affect bodies is not these but the
bodies which are their vehicles, e. g. what splits the trunk of
a tree is not the sound of the thunder but the air which accom
panies thunder. Yes, but, it may be objected, bodies are
affected by what is tangible and by flavours. If not, by
what are things that are without soul affected, i. e. altered
in quality ? Must we not, then, admit that the objects of the
other senses also may affect them ? Is not the true account

constituents of the organ : it is at least what the Schoolmen called
forma operans and is here expressly identified with the force or power
incorporated in the organ, which when evoked by the stimulating agency
of the external object manifests itselt as the apprehension or discrimina
tion of the objective quality inwardized by the process described.
With Beare, Greek Theories of Elementary Cognition, p. 225, n. 2, I
take &lt;dvov to mean the organ, not the object.

434 b DE ANIMA

this, that all bodies are capable of being affected by smells
15 and sounds, but that some on being acted upon, having no
boundaries of their own, disintegrate, as in the instance of air,
which does become odorous, showing that some effect is
produced on it by what is odorous? But smelling is more
than such an affection by what is odorous what more ? Is
not the answer that, while the air owing to the momentary
duration of the action upon it of what is odorous does
itself become perceptible to the sense of smell, smelling is
an observing of the result produced ? l

1 Here Aristotle (vainly) endeavours to bridge the gap between the
two senses of perceiving , (a) the physical affection of the sense-organ
by the sensigenous object, and (b) the psychical activity or reaction
which consists in becoming or being aware of its sensible quality.

BOOK III

i THAT there is no sixth sense in addition to the five enu
meratedsight, hearing, smell, taste, touch may be estab
lished by the following considerations :

If we have actually sensation of everything of which touch
can give us sensation (for all the qualities of the tangible qua 3 5
tangible are perceived by us through touch) ; and if absence
of a sense necessarily involves absence of a sense-organ ; and
if (i) all objects that we perceive by immediate contact with
them are perceptible by touch, which sense we actually
possess, and (2) all objects that we perceive through media,
i. e. without immediate contact, are perceptible by or through 3
the simple elements, e.g. air and water (and this is so arranged
that (a) if more than one kind of sensible object is perceivable
through a single medium, the possessor of a sense-organ
homogeneous with that medium has the power of perceiving
both kinds of objects ; for example, if the sense-organ is
made of air, and air is a medium both for sound and for
colour; and that (b] if more than one medium can transmit
the same kind of sensible objects, as e.g. water as well as 425*
air can transmit colour, both being transparent, then the
possessor of either alone will be able to perceive the kind
of objects transmissible through both) ; and if of the simple
elements two only, air and water, go to form .sense-organs
(for the pupil is made of water, the organ of hearing is made
of air, and the organ of smell of one or other of these two,
while fire is found either in none or in all warmth being 5
an essential condition of all sensibility and earth either in
none or, if anywhere, specially mingled with the components
of the organ of touch ; wherefore it would remain that there
can be no sense-organ formed of anything except water
and air) ; and if these sense-organs are actually found in
certain animals; then all the possible senses are possessed
by those animals that are not imperfect or mutilated (for 10
even the mole is observed to have eyes beneath its skin) ;
so that, if there is no fifth element and no property other
than those which belong to the four elements of our world,
no sense can be wanting to such animals.

425 a DE ANIMA

Further, there cannot be a special sense-organ for the

15 common sensibles either, i. e. the objects which we perceive
incidentally through this or that special sense, e.g. move
ment, rest, figure, magnitude, number, unity ; for all these
we perceive by movement, e. g. magnitude by movement,
and therefore also figure (for figure is a species of magnitude),
what is at rest by the absence of movement: number is
perceived by the negation of continuity, and by the special
sensibles ; for each sense perceives one class of sensible

30 objects. So that it is clearly impossible that there should
be a special sense for any one of the common sensibles, eg.
movement ; for, if that were so, our perception of it would
be exactly parallel to our present perception of what is
sweet by vision. That is so because we have a sense for
each of the two qualities, in virtue of which when they
happen to meet in one sensible object we are aware of both
contemporaneously. If it were not like this our perception

35 of the common qualities would always be incidental, i.e. as
is the perception of C Icon s son, where we perceive him not
as Cleon s son but as white, and the white thing which we
really perceive happens to be Cleon s son.

But in the case of the common sensibles there is already
in us a general sensibility which enables us to perceive them
directly; there is therefore no special sense required for
their perception : if there were, our perception of them would
have been exactly like what has been above 1 described.

30 The senses perceive each other s special objects incident
ally ; not because the percipient sense is this or that special
sense, but because all form a unity : this incidental perception
takes place whenever sense is directed at one and the same
moment to two disparate qualities in one and the same ob-
425 b ject, e.g. to the bitterness and the yellowness of bile; the
assertion of the identity of both cannot be the act of either
of the senses; hence the illusion of sense, e.g. the belief that
if a thing is yellow it is bile.

It might be asked why we have more senses than one.

5 Is it to prevent a failure to apprehend the common sensibles,
e.g. movement, magnitude, and number, which go along with

1 11. 24-7-

BOOK III. I 4 25 b

the special sensibles? Had we no sense but sight, and that
sense l no object but white, they would have tended to escape
our notice and everything would have merged for us into an
indistinguishable identity because of the concomitance of
colour and magnitude. As it is, the fact that the common sen
sibles are given in the objects of more than one sense reveals
their distinction from each and all of the special sensibles. *o

2 Since it is through sense that we are aware that we are
seeing or hearing, it must be either by sight that we are
aware of seeing, or by some sense other than sight. But the
sense that gives us this new sensation must perceive both
sight and its object, viz. colour: so that either (i) there
will be two senses both percipient of the same sensible
object, or (2) the sense must be percipient of itself. Further, 15
even if the sense which perceives sight were different from
sight, we must either fall into an infinite regress, or we must
somewhere assume a sense which is aware of itself. If so,
we ought to do this in the first case.

This presents a difficulty: if to perceive by sight is just
to see, and what is seen is colour (or the coloured), then if
we are to sec that which sees, that which sees originally
must be coloured. It is clear therefore that to perceive by *o
sight has more than one meaning ; for even when we are
not seeing, it is by sight that we discriminate darkness from
light, though not in the same way as we distinguish one
colour from another. Further, in a sense even that which sees
is coloured ; for in each case the sense-organ is capable of
receiving the sensible object without its matter. That is
why even when the sensible objects are gone the sensings 25
and imaginings continue to exist in the sense-organs.

The activity of the sensible object and that of the per
cipient sense is one and the same activity, and yet the
distinction between their being remains. Take as illustra
tion actual sound and actual hearing : a man may have
hearing and yet not be hearing, and that which has a sound
is not always sounding. But when that which can hear is
actively hearing and that which can sound is sounding, then 30
1 Reading in 1. 7 aur/y, with Jackson.

4*5 b DE ANIMA

the actual hearing and the actual sound are merged in one

426"* (these one might call respectively hearkening and sounding).

If it is true that the movement, bolh the acting and the

being acted upon, is to be found in that which is acted upon, 1

both the sound and the hearing so far as it is actual must

be found in that which has the faculty of hearing ; for it is

in the passive factor that the actuality of the active or motive

5 factor is realized ; that is why that which causes movement
may be at rest. Now the actuality of that which can sound
is just sound or sounding, and the actuality of that which can
hear is hearing or hearkening; sound and hearing are
both ambiguous. The same account applies to the other
senses and their objects. For as the-acting-and-being-acted-

10 upon is to be found in the passive, not in the active factor, so
also the actuality of the sensible object and that of the sen
sitive subject are both realized in the latter. But while in
some cases each aspect of the total actuality has a distinct
name, e.g. sounding and hearkening, in some one or other is
nameless, e.g. the actuality of sight is called seeirg, but the
actuality of colour has no name: the actuality of the
faculty of taste is called tasting, but the actuality of flavour

15 has no name. Since the actualities of the sensible object and
of the sensitive faculty are one actuality in spite of the
difference between their modes of b.ing, actual hearing
and actual sounding appear and disappear from existence
at one and the same moment, and so actual savour and
actual tasting, &c., while as potentialities one of them may

20 exist without the other. The earlier students of nature
were mistaken in their view that without sight there was
no white or black, without taste no savour. This statement
of theirs is partly true, partly false: sense and the sensible
object are ambiguous terms, i.e. may denote either poten-

35 tialities or actualities : the statement is true of the latter, false
of the former. This ambiguity they wholly failed to notice.

If voice always implies a concord, 2 and if the voice and
the hearing of it are in one sense one and the same, 3 and if

1 Cf. Phys. iii. 3.

2 Read in 1. 27 17 $&lt;*&gt;vr) o-i /K/xowa, with Sophonias and Priscianus.

3 Omitting K&lt;U . . . ouro in 1. 28, with Torstrik.

BOOK III. 2 426*

concord always implies a ratio, hearing as well as what
is heard must be a ratio. That is why the excess of either 30
the sharp or the flat destroys the hearing. (So also in the
case of savours excess destroys the sense of taste, and in the
case of colours excessive brightness or darkness destroys the
sight, and in the case of smell excess of strength whether in
the direction of sweetness or bitterness is destructive.) This
shows that the sense is a ratio.

That is also why the objects of sense are (i) pleasant
when the sensible extremes such as acid or sweet or
salt being pure and unmixed are brought into the proper
ratio ; 1 then they are pleasant : and in general what is 5
blended is more pleasant 2 than the sharp or the flat alone ;
or, to touch, that which is capable of being either warmed
or chilled : the sense and the ratio are identical : while (2) in
excess the sensible extremes are painful or destructive.

Each sense then is relative to its particular group of
sensible qualities: it is found in a sense-organ as such 3
and discriminates the differences which exist within that
group ; e.g. sight discriminates white and black, taste sweet 10
and bitter, and so in all cases. Since we also discriminate
white from sweet, and indeed each sensible quality from
every other, with what do we perceive that they are differ
ent? It must be by sense; for what is before us is sensible
objects. (Hence it is also obvious that the flesh cannot be 15
the ultimate sense-organ : if it were, the discriminating power
could not do its work without immediate contact with the
object.)

Therefore (i) discrimination between white and sweet
cannot be effected by two agencies which remain separate ;
both the qualities discriminated must be present to some
thing that is one and single. On any other supposition
even if I perceived sweet and you perceived white, the
difference between them would be apparent. What says 20
that two things are different must be one ; for sweet is

1 i.e. that which is involved in the structure of the sense-organ.

2 Omit ovpipwia in 1. 6.

8 The qualification appears to mean that the sense-organ may in other
respects have other qualities. Thus the tongue can touch as well as
taste.

645-19 F

4a6 b DE ANIMA

different from white. Therefore what asserts this difference
must be self-identical, and as what asserts, so also what
thinks or perceives. That it is not possible by means of
two agencies which remain separate to discriminate two
objects which are separate, is therefore obvious ; and that
(2) it is not possible to do this in separate moments of time
may be seen if we look at it as follows. For as what asserts
the difference between the good and the bad is one and the
3 same, so also the time at which it asserts the one to be
different and the other to be different is not accidental
to the assertion (as it is for instance when I now assert
a difference but do not assert that there is now a
difference) ; it asserts thus both now and that the objects
are different now ; the objects therefore must be present
at one and the same moment. Both the discriminating
power and the time of its exercise must be one and
undivided.

But, it may be objected, it is impossible that what is
3 self-identical should be moved at one and the same time
with contrary movements in so far as it is undivided, and
in an undivided moment of time. For if what is sweet be
the quality perceived, it moves the sense or thought in this
4 2 7 & determinate way, while what is bitter moves it in a contrary
way, and what is white in a different way. Is it the
case then that what discriminates, though both numerically
one and indivisible, is at the same time divided in its being?
In one sense, it is what is divided that perceives tv\o separate
objects at once, but in another sense it does so qua undivided;
for it is divisible in its being, but spatially and numerically
undivided.

5 But is not this impossible? For while it is true that
what is self-identical and undivided may be both contraries
at once potentially, it cannot be self-identical in its being
it must lose its unity by being put into activity. It is not
possible to be at once white and black, and therefore it must
also be impossible for a thing to be affected at one and the
same moment by the forms of both, assuming it to be the
case that sensation and thinking are properly so described. 1

1 i.e. as the being affected by the forms of sensible qualities.

BOOK III. 2

The answer is that just as what is called a point is, as 10
being at once one and two, 1 properly said to be divisible, so
here, that which discriminates is qua undivided one, and
active in a single moment of time, while so far forth as it is
divisible it twice over uses the same 2 dot at one and the
same time. So far forth then as it takes the limit as two,
it discriminates two separate objects with what in a sense is
divided : while so far as it takes it as one, it does so with
what is one 3 and occupies in its activity a single moment
of time.

About the principle in virtue of which we say that animals
are percipient, let this discussion suffice. 15

3 There are two distinctive peculiarities by reference to
which we characterize the soul (i) local movement and
(2) thinking, discriminating, and perceiving. Thinking both
speculative and practical is regarded as akin to a form of
perceiving ; for in the one as well as the other the soul ao
discriminates and is cognizant of something which is. In
deed the ancients go so far as to identify thinking and
perceiving; e.g. Empedocles says 4 For tis in respect of
what is present that man s wit is increased , and again 5
* Whence it befalls them from time to time to think diverse
thoughts , and Homer s phrase 6 For suchlike is man s mind* 2-5
means the same. They all look upon thinking as a bodily
process like perceiving, and hold that like is known as well
as perceived by like, as I explained at the beginning of our
discussion. 7 Yet they ought at the same time to have
accounted for error also ; for it is more intimately connected 427 b
with animal existence and the soul continues longer in the
state of error than in that of truth. They cannot escape
the dilemma: either (i) whatever seems is true (and there
are some who accept this) or (2) error is contact with the
unlike ; for that is the opposite of the knowing of like
by like.

But it is a received principle that error as well as know- 5
ledge in respect to contraries is one and the same.

1 Read in 1. 10 17 /i/a *ai dvo (?) pin K&lt;U duo cod. L).

2 Read in 1. 12 Simperoi/ un-up^et, dls TO) nvrw, with most MSS. and
Alexander. s Read in 1. 14 ci/i, e vi.

4 Fr. 106. 5 Fr. 108. 6 Od. xviii. 136. 7 4O4 b 8-18.

F 2

427 b DE ANIMA

That perceiving and practical thinking are not identical
is therefore obvious ; for the former is universal in the
animal world, the latter is found in only a small division of
it. Further, speculative thinking is also distinct from per
ceiving I mean that in which we find Tightness and wrong-

10 ness rightness in prudence, knowledge, true opinion, wrong-
ness in their opposites ; for perception of the special objects
of sense is always free from error, and is found in all animals,
while it is possible to think falsely as well as truly, and
thought is found only where there is discourse of reason
as well as sensibility. For imagination is different from

15 either perceiving or discursive thinking, though it is not
found without sensation, or judgement without it. That
this activity is not the same kind of thinking as judge
ment is obvious. For imagining lies within our own
power whenever we wish (e. g. we can call up a picture, as in
the practice of mnemonics by the use of mental images),

20 but in forming opinions we are not free : we cannot escape
the alternative of falsehood or truth. Further, when we
think something to be fearful or threatening, emotion is
immediately produced, and so too with what is encouraging ;
but when we merely imagine we remain as unaffected as
persons who are looking at a painting of some dreadful or
encouraging scene. Again within the field of judgement

35 itself we find varieties knowledge, opinion, prudence, and
their opposites ; of the differences between these I must
speak elsewhere. 1

Thinking is different from perceiving and is held to be in
part imagination, in part judgement : we must therefore first
mark off the sphere of imagination and then speak of judge-
428* ment. If then imagination is that in virtue of which an
image arises for us, excluding metaphorical uses of the
term, is it 2 a single faculty or disposition relative to
images, in virtue of which we discriminate and are either
in error or not ? The faculties in virtue of which we do
this are sense, opinion, science, intelligence.

5 That imagination is not sense is clear from the following

1 The reference is perhaps to E. N. i I39 b 15 ff.

2 Read in 11. 3-4 (apa) pa . .

BOOK III. 3 428*

considerations : Sense is either a faculty or an activity, e.g.
sight or seeing : imagination takes place in the absence of
both, as e.g. in dreams. (2) Again, sense is always present,
imagination not. If actual imagination and actual sensation
were the same, imagination would be found in all the brutes:
this is held not to be the case ; e. g. it is not found in ants 10
or bees or grubs. (3) Again, sensations are always true,
imaginations are for the most part false. (4) Once more,
even in ordinary speech, we do not, when sense functions
precisely with regard to its object, say that we imagine it
to be a man, but rather when there is some failure of accu
racy in its exercise. And (5), as we were saying before, 1 15
visions appear to us even when our eyes are shut.
Neither is imagination any of the things that are never
in error: e.g. knowledge or intelligence; for imagination
may be false.

It remains therefore to see if it is opinion, for opinion
may be either true or false.

But opinion involves belief (for without belief in what 20
we opine we cannot have an opinion), and in the brutes
though we often find imagination we never find belief.
Further, every opinion is accompanied by belief, belief by
conviction, and conviction by discourse of reason : while
there are some of the brutes in which we find imagination,
without discourse of reason. 2 It is clear then that imagi
nation cannot, again, be (i) opinion///^ sensation, or (2) 25
opinion mediated by sensation, or (3) a blend of opinion
and sensation ; 3 this is impossible both for these reasons
and because 4 the content of the supposed opinion cannot
be different from that of the sensation (I mean that imagi
nation must be the blending of the perception of white with
the opinion that it is white : it could scarcely be a blend of
the opinion that it is good with the perception that it 30
is white): to imagine is therefore (on this view) identical 428 b
with the thinking of exactly the same as what one in the
strictest sense perceives. But what we imagine is sometimes

1 11. 7-8. 2 Retaining rt . . . oil in 11. 22-4.

3 For these three views cf. PI. Tim. 52 A, Soph. 264 A, B, Phil. 39 B.

4 Omit d^Xov in 1. 27, with Shorey.

DE AN I MA

false though our contemporaneous judgement about it is true;
e.g. we imagine the sun to be a foot in diameter though we
are convinced that it is larger than the inhabited part of the
earth, and the following dilemma presents itself. Either (a)
while the fact has not changed and the observer has neither

5 forgotten nor lost belief in the true opinion which he had
that opinion has disappeared, or (b) if he retains it then his
opinion is at once true and false. A true opinion, however,
becomes false only when the fact alters without being
noticed.

Imagination is therefore neither any one of the states
enumerated, nor compounded out of them.

10 But since when one thing has been set in motion another
thing may be moved by it, and imagination is held to be a
movement and to be impossible without sensation, i. e. to
occur in beings that are percipient and to have for its content
what can be perceived, and since movement may be produced
by actual sensation and that movement is necessarily similar
in character to the sensation itself, this movement must be (i)

15 necessarily (a) incapable of existing apart from sensation,
(b) incapable of existing except when we perceive, (2) such
that in virtue of its possession that in which it is found may
present various phenomena both active and passive, and
(3) such that it may be either true or false.

The reason of the last characteristic is as follows. Percep
tion (i) of the special objects of sense is never in error or
admits the least possible amount of falsehood. (2) That of
the concomitance of the objects concomitantwith the sensible

30 qualities l comes next : in this case certainly we may be
deceived ; for while the perception that there is white before
us cannot be false, the perception that what is white is this
or that may be false. (3) Third comes the perception of
the universal attributes which accompany the concomitant
objects to which the special sensibles attach (I mean e. g.
of movement and magnitude) ; it is in respect of these that
the greatest amount of sense-illusion is possible.

25 The motion which is due to the activity of sense in these
three modes of its exercise will differ from the activity of
1 Transfer a ... aiVfyroiy from 1. 24 to 1. 20 after raura, with Bywater.

BOOK III. 3 428 b

sense; 1 (i) the first kind of derived motion is free from
error while the sensation is present; (2) and (3) the others
may be erroneous whether it is present or absent, especially
when the object of perception is far off. If then imagination 3
presents no other features than those enumerated and is 2
what we have described, then imagination must be a 429*
movement resulting from an actual exercise of a power of
sense.

As sight is the most highly developed sense, the name
&lt;f&gt;avTacria (imagination) has been formed from 0ao? (light)
because it is not possible to see without light.

And because imaginations remain in the organs of sense
and resemble sensations, animals in their actions are largely 5
guided by them, some (i. e. the brutes) because of the non-
existence in them of mind, others (i.e. men) because
of the temporary eclipse in them of mind by feeling or
disease or sleep.

About imagination, what it is and why it exists, let so
much suffice.

4 Turning now to the part of the soul with which the soul 10
knows and thinks (whether this is separable from the others
in definition only, or spatially as well) we have to inquire
(i) what differentiates this part, and (2) how thinking can
take place.

If thinking is like perceiving, it must be either a process
in which the soul is acted upon by what is capable of
being thought, or a process different from but analogous to
that. The thinking part of the soul must therefore be, while 5
impassible, capable of receiving the form of an object ; that is
must be potentially identical in character with its object
without being the object. Mind must be related to what
is thinkable, as sense is to what is sensible.

Therefore, since everything is a possible object of thought,
mind in order, as Anaxagoras says, 3 to dominate, that is, to
know, must be pure from alladmixture ; for the co-presence of ao
what is alien to its nature is a hindrance and a block : it follows

1 Retaining rfjs aicrdfjvcvs in 1. 26.

2 Read eVri in 1. i, with Bekker. 8 Fr. 12.

429 a DE ANIMA

that it too, like the sensitive part, can have no nature of its
own, other than that of having a certain capacity. Thus
that in the soul which is called mind (by mind I mean
that whereby the soul thinks and judges) is, before it

thinks, not actually any real thing. For this reason it
cannot reasonably be regarded as blended with the body :

25 if so, it would acquire some quality, e.g. warmth or cold, or
even have an organ like the sensitive faculty : as it is, it
has none. It was a good idea to call the soul the place
of forms , 1 though (i) this description holds only of the
intellective soul, and (2) even this is the forms only

potentially, not actually.

Observation of the sense-organs and their employment

30 reveals a distinction between the impassibility of the sen
sitive and that of the intellective faculty. After strong
stimulation of a sense we are less able to exercise it than
before, as e. g. in the case of a loud sound we cannot hear
easily immediately after, or in the case of a bright colour
or a powerful odour we cannot see or smell, but in the case
of mind thought about an object that is highly intelligible
renders it more and not less able afterwards to think
objects that are less intelligible : the reason is that while
the faculty of sensation is dependent upon the body, mind^
is separable from it.

5 Once the mind has become each set of its possible
objects, as a man of science has, when this phrase is used of
one who is actually a man of science (this happens when he is
now able to exercise the power on his own initiative), 2 its
condition is still one of potentiality, but in a different sense
from the potentiality which preceded the acquisition of know
ledge by learning or discovery : the mind too is then able to
think itself.

10 Since we can distinguish between a spatial magnitude
and what it is to be such, and between water and what it is to
be water, and so in many other cases (though not in all ;
for in certain cases the thing and its form are identical),

1 The idea is Platonic, but the actual expression is not found in the
extant works of Plato.
8 Cf. i a 2i- b 2.

BOOK III. 4 429 b

flesh and what it is to be flesh are discriminated either by
different faculties, 1 or by the same faculty in two different
states : for flesh necessarily involves matter and is like what
is snub-nosed, a this in a this? Now it is by means of
the sensitive faculty that we discriminate the hot and the
cold, i. e. the factors which combined in a certain ratio 15
constitute flesh : the essential character of flesh is appre
hended by something different either wholly separate from
the sensitive faculty or related to it as a bent line to the
same line when it has been straightened out.

Again in the case of abstract objects what is straight is
analogous to what is snub-nosed ; for it necessarily implies a
continuum as its matter : its constitutive essence is different,
if we may distinguish between straightness and what
is straight : let us take it to be two-ness. It must be 20
apprehended, therefore, by a different power or by the same
power in a different state. To sum up, in so far as the
realities it knows are capable of being separated from their
matter, so it is also with the powers of mind.

The problem might be suggested : if thinking is a passive
affection, then if mind is simple and impassible and has
nothing in common with anything else, as Anaxagoras says, 3
how can it come to think at all? For interaction between 25
two factors is held to require a precedent community of
nature between the factors. Again it might be asked, is
mind a possible object of thought to itself? For if mind is
thinkable per se and what is thinkable is in kind one and
the same, then either (a) mind will belong to everything, or
(b) mind will contain some element common to it with all
other realities which makes them all thinkable.

(i) Have not we already disposed of the difficulty about
interaction involving a common element, when we said 4 30
that mind is in a sense potentially whatever is thinkable,
though actually it is nothing until it has thought ? What
it thinks must be in it just as characters may be said to be 430*
on a writing-tablet on which as yet nothing actually
stands written : this is exactly what happens with mind.

1 Read in 1. 13 adpKa 77 aXXw, with most MSS.

2 i.e. a particular form in a particular matter. 5

particular matter. s Fr. 12. 4 a 15-24.

43Q a DE ANIMA

(2) Mind is itself thinkable in exactly the same way as
its objects are. For (a) in the case of objects which involve
no matter, what thinks and what is thought are identical ;
for speculative knowledge and its object are identical.
5 (Why mind is not always thinking we must consider later) 1
(b) In the case of those which contain matter each of the
objects of thought is only potentially present. It follows
that while they will not have mind in them (for mind is a
potentiality of them only in so far as they are capable of
being disengaged from matter) mind may yet be thinkable.

10 Since in every class of things, as in nature as a whole, we 5

find two factors involved, (i) a matter which is poten-

1 tially all the particulars included in the class, (a) a cause

which is productive in the sense that it makes them all

(the latter standing to the former, as e.g. an art to its

material), these distinct elements must likewise be found

/within the soul.

And in fact mind as we have described it &lt;-i is what it is by

15 virtue of becoming all things, while there is another which
is what it is by virtue of making all things : this is a sort
of positive state like light ; for in a sense light makes
potential colours into actual colours.

Mind in this sense of it is separable, impassible, unmixed,
since it is in its essential nature activity (for always the
active is superior to the passive factor, the originating force

t to the matter which it forms).

ao Actual knowledge is identical with its object: in the indivi
dual, potential knowledge is in time prior to actual know
ledge, but in the universe as a whole it is not prior even in
time. 3 Mind is not at one time knowing and at another not
When mind is set free from its present conditions it appears
as just what it is and nothing more : this alone is immortal
and eternal (we do not, however, remember its former
activity because, while mind in^ this sense is impassible,

3 5 mind as passive is destructible), 4 and without it nothing
thinks.

1 Ch 5. 2 In ch. 4.

3 Reading in 1. 21 oi fie \povu&gt;, with most MSS. and Themistius.

4 ov . . . (jiOupTos in 11. 23-5 is probably parenthetical.

BOOK III. 6 430 a

6 The thinking then of the simple objects of thought is
found in those cases where falsehood is impossible :
where the alternative of true or false applies, there we
always find a putting together of objects of thought in a
quasi-unity. As Empedocles said that where heads of
many a creature sprouted without necks 1 they afterwards by
Love s power were combined, so here too objects of thought 30
which were given separate are combined, e.g. incommen
surate and diagonal : if the combination be of objects
past or future the combination of thought includes in its
content the date. For falsehood always involves a syn- 43O b
thesis ; for even if you assert that what is white is not white
you have included not-white in a synthesis. It is possible
also to call all these cases division as well as combination.
However that may be, there is not only the true or false
assertion that Cleon is white but also the true or false asser
tion that he was or will be white. In each and every case that 5
which unifies is mind.

Since the word simple has two senses, i. e. may mean
either (a] not capable of being divided or (b) not actually
divided \ there is nothing to prevent mind from knowing what
is undivided, e.g. when it apprehends a length (which is
actually undivided) and that in an undivided time ; for
the time is divided or undivided in the same manner as the
line. It is not possible, then, to tell what part of the line it 10
was apprehending 2 in each half of the time: the object
has no actual parts until it has been divided : if in thought
you think each half separately, then by the same act you
divide the time also, the half-lines becoming as it were new
wholes of length. But if you think it as a whole consisting
of these two possible parts, then also you think it in a
time which corresponds to both parts together. (But what
is not quantitatively but qualitatively simple is thought in 15
a simple time and by a simple act of the soul.) 3

But that which 4 mind thinks and the time in which it

1 Fr. 57. "Reading eVo ei in 1. 10, with cod. L.

3 11. 14-15 TO ... tyvxrjs, dealing not, like the rest of 11 6-20, with the

quantitatively divisible though undivided but with the qualitatively
simple, should either be treated as a parenthesis, or placed, as By water
places it, after /^ei in 1. 20.

4 Read in 1. 16 6 i&gt;oel, with Vicomercatus and Bywater.

430 b DE ANIMA

thinks are in this case divisible only incidentally and not as
such. For in them too there is something indivisible (though, ,
it may be, not isolable) which gives unity to the time and the
whole of length ; and this is found equally in every con
tinuum whether temporal or spatial.

20 Points and similar instances of things that divide, them
selves being indivisible, are realized in consciousness in the
same manner as privations.

A similar account may be given of all other cases, e. g.
how evil or black is cognized ; they are cognized, in a sense,
by means of their contraries. That which cognizes must
have an element of potentiality in its being, and one of the
contraries must be in it. 1 But if there is anything that has

25 no contrary, then it knows itself and is actually and possesses
independent existence.

Assertion is the saying of somethingconcerning something,
e. g. affirmation, and is in every case either true or false :
this is not always the case with mind : the thinking of the
definition in the sense of the constitutive essence is never in
error nor is it the assertion of something concerning some
thing, but, just as while the seeing of the special object of
sight can never be in error, the belief that the white object

30 seen is a man may be mistaken, so too in the case of objects
which are without matter.

43 1 * Actual knowledge is identical with its object : potential 7
knowledge in the individual is in time prior to actual know
ledge but in the universe it has no priority even in time ; for all
things that come into being arise from what actually is. In
the case of sense clearly the sensitive faculty already was
5 potentially what the object makes it to be actually ; the
faculty is not affected or altered. This must therefore be a
different kind from movement ; for movement is, as we saw, 2
an activity of what is imperfect, activity in the unqualified
sense, i.e. that of what has been perfected, is different from
movement.

1 i.e. it must be characterized actually by one and potentially by the
other of the contraries. Omit TO&gt;I/ mnW in 1. 25 and read T&gt;V
(so cod. S in 1. 25) ev avru&gt; after cv clvcn in 1. 24.

2 Cf. 4i; b 2-i6.

BOOK III. 7 43i

To perceive then is like bare asserting or knowing ; but
when the object is pleasant or painful, the soul makes a
quasi-affirmation or negation, and pursues or avoids the
object. To feel pleasure or pain is to act with the sensitive 10
mean towards what is good or bad as such. Both avoidance
and appetite when actual are identical with this: the faculty
of appetite and avoidance are not different, either from one
another or from the faculty of sense-perception ; but their
being is different.

To the thinking soul images serve as if they were con
tents of perception (and when it asserts or denies them to 15
be good or bad it avoids or pursues them). That is why the
soul never thinks without an image. The process is like that
in which the air modifies the pupil in this or that way and
the pupil transmits the modification to some third thing
(and similarly in hearing), while the ultimate point of
arrival is one, a single mean, with different manners of
being.

With what part of itself the soul discriminates sweet 20
from hot 1 I have explained before 2 and must now describe
again as follows : That with which it does so is a sort of
unity, but in the way just mentioned, 3 i. e. as a connecting
term. And the two faculties it connects, 4 being one by analogy
and numerically, 5 are each 6 to each as the qualities discerned
are to one another (for what difference does it make whether
we raise the problem of discrimination between disparates or
between contraries, e. g. white and black ?). Let then C be 25
to D as A is to B : 7 it follows alter nando that C : A \\D\B.
If then C and D belong to one subject, the case will be the
same with them as with A and B ; A and B form a single

1 i.e. the sweetness and the heat in a sweet-hot object.

2 426** I2~427 a 14. 3 i.e. as one thing with two aspects ; cf. 1. 19.
4 i. e. the faculty by which we discern sweet and that by which we

discern hot.

6 i.e. (i) by standing in an analogical relation to their objects (cf. 11.
25-7) and (2) by belonging to the one eo-^aroi/ maBrjr^piov (cf. 11. 27-9).

8 Reading in 1. 23 e\d (e Karepoj&gt;).

7 i.e. let the faculty that discerns sweet be to that which discerns
hot as sweet is to hot. Omit TO \fvKov and TO / X&lt;u&gt; in 11. 25-6 ; the
point seems to be that the power of discerning sweet and the power of
discerning hot belongs to the same subject (the eo-^aTOf atV^T^ptoi/) as
sweetness and heat may belong to the same object.

43i a DE ANIMA

identity with different modes of being ; so too will the former
43 1 pair. The same reasoning holds if A be sweet and B white.
The faculty of thinking then thinks the forms in the
images, and as in the former case l what is to be pursued
or avoided is marked out for it, so where there is no
sensation and it is engaged upon the images it is moved
5 to pursuit or avoidance. E.g. perceiving by sense that the
beacon is fire, it recognizes in virtue of the general faculty
of sense that it signifies an enemy, because it sees it
moving ; but sometimes by means of the images or thoughts
which are within the soul, just as if it were seeing, it calculates
and deliberates what is to come by reference to what is
present ; and when it makes a pronouncement, as in the case of
sensation it pronounces the object to be pleasant or painful, in
this case it avoids or pursues; and so generally in cases of
action.

10 That too which involves no action, i.e. that which is
true or false, is in the same province with what is good or
bad : yet they differ in this, that the one set imply and the
other do not a reference to a particular person.

The so-called abstract objects the mind thinks just as,
if one had thought of the snub-nosed not as snub-nosed but
as hollow, one would have thought of an actuality without

15 the flesh in which it is embodied: 2 it is thus that the mind when
it is thinking the objects of Mathematics thinks as separate
elements which do not exist separate. In every case the
mind which is actively thinking is the objects which it
thinks. Whether it is possible for it while not existing
separate from spatial conditions to think anything that
is separate, or not, we must consider later. 3

30 Let us now summarize our results about soul, and repeat 8
that the soul is in a way all existing things ; for existing
things are either 4 sensible or thinkable, and knowledge is in

1 i.e. that of sense-data.

2 Reading in 11. 13-15 (after By water, in the main) d (TU) TO aipov,
rj fjitv tn^ov ou [Kex^pKr/ifcun], rj 8e KOiAov [ TIS] evoti, ev^pyaav avtv
rf)S aapKos iiv fio-i fv jy [TO AcoiAof].

3 This promise does not seem to h ive been fulfilled.

4 Reading in 1. 21 can ndvra f) ya/j,with most MSb., Them., Phil., and
the Vetus Iranslatio.

BOOK III. 8 43i b

a way what is knowable, and sensation is in a way what is
sensible : in what way we must inquire.

Knowledge and sensation are divided to correspond
with the realities, potential knowledge and sensation 3 .
answering to potentialities, actual knowledge and sensation
to actualities. Within the soul the faculties of knowledge
and sensation are potentially these objects, the one what
is knowable, the other what is sensible. 1 They must be
either the things themselves or their forms. The former
alternative is of course impossible : it is not the stone which
is present in the soul but its form.

It follows that the soul is analogous to the hand ; for 432*
as the hand is a tool of tools, 2 so the mind is the form of
forms and sense the form of sensible things.

Since according to common agreement there is nothing
outside and separate in existence from sensible spatial
magnitudes, the objects of thought are in the sensible
forms, viz. both the abstract objects and all the states 5
and affections of sensible things. Hence (i) no one can
learn or understand anything in the absence of sense, and
(2) when the mind is actively aware of anything it is
necessarily aware of it along with an image; for images are
like sensuous contents except in that they contain no
matter.

Imagination is different from assertion and denial ; for
what is true or false involves a synthesis of concepts. In I0
what will the primary concepts differ from images ? Must
we not say that neither these nor even our other concepts
are images, though they necessarily involve them ?

The soul of animals is characterized by two faculties, (a) Ig
the faculty of discrimination which is the work of thought
and sense, and (b) the faculty of originating local movement.
Sense and mind we have now sufficiently examined. Let
us next consider what it is in the soul which originates
movement. Is it a single part of the soul separate either

1 Reading in 1. 27 ravra with E a , Sophonias, and the Vetus Trans-
latio.

2 i.e. a tool for using tools.

43a a DE ANIMA

20 spatially or in definition ? Or is it the soul as a whole ? If
it is a part, is that part different from those usually distin
guished or already meniioned by us, or is it one of them ?
The problem at once presents itself, in what sense we are
to speak of parts of the soul, or how many we should
distinguish. For in a sense there is an infinity of parts :

25 it is not enough to distinguish, with some thinkers, 1 the cal-
culative, the passionate, and the desiderative, or with others 2
the rational and the irrational; for if we take the dividing
lines followed by these thinkers we shall find parts far more
distinctly separated from one another than these, namely those
we have just mentioned: (i) the nutritive, \\hichbelongsboth

30 to plants and to all animals, and (2) the sensitive, which cannot
easily be classed as either irrational or rational ; further (3)
432 b the imaginative, which is. in its being, different from all,
while it is very hard to say with which of the others it is
the same or not the same, supposing we determine to posit
separate parts in the soul ; and lastly (4) the appetitive,
which would seem to be distinct both in definition and in
power from all hitherto enumerated.

5 It is absurd to break up the last-mentioned faculty : as
these thinkers do, for wish is found in the calculative part
and desire and passion in the irrational ; 3 and if the soul
is tripartite appetite will be found in all three parts.
Turning our attention to the present object of discussion,
let us ask what that is which originates local movement of
the animal.

The movement of growth and decay, being found in all

10 living things, must be attributed to the faculty of reproduc
tion and nutrition, which is common to all : inspiration
and expiration, sleep and waking, we must consider later: *
these too present much difficulty : at present we must consider
local movement, asking what it is that originates forward
movement in the animal.

15 That it is not the nutritive faculty is obvious ; for this
kind of movement is always for an end and is accompanied

1 PI. Rep. 435-41. 2 A popular view, cf. E.N. iiO2 n 26-8.

8 All three being forms of appetite.
4 Cf. DC Respiratione, De Soinno.

BOOK III. 9 43 b

either by imagination or by appetite ; for no animal moves
except by compulsion unless it has an impulse towards or
away from an object. Further, if it were the nutritive faculty,
even plants would have been capable of originating such
movement and would have possessed the organs necessary
to carry it out. Similarly it cannot be the sensitive
faculty either; for there are many animals which have
sensibility but remain fast and immovable throughout their
lives. *o

If then Nature never makes anything without a purpose
and never leaves out what is necessary (except in the case
of mutilated or imperfect growths ; and that here we have
neither mutilation nor imperfection may be argued from
the facts that such animals (a) can reproduce their species
and (b) rise to completeness of nature and decay to an end),
it follows that, had they been capable of originating forward *5
movement, they would have possessed the organs necessary
for that purpose. Further, neither can the calculative faculty
or what is called * mind be the cause of such movement ;
for mind as speculative never thinks what is practicable, it
never says anything about an object to be avoided or
pursued, while this movement is always in something which
is avoiding or pursuing an object. No, not even when it is
aware of such an object does it at once enjoin pursuit or 3P
avoidance of it; e.g. the mind often thinks of something
terrifying or pleasant without enjoining the emotion of
fear. It is the heart that is moved (or in the case of a
pleasant object some other part). Further, even when the 433 a
mind does command and thought bids us pursue or avoid
something, sometimes no movement is produced ; we act in
accordance with desire, as in the case of moral weakness.
And, generally, we observe that the possessor of medical
knowledge is not necessarily healing, which shows that some
thing else is required to produce action in accordance with
knowledge ; the knowledge alone is not the cause. Lastly, 5
appetite too is incompetent to account fully for movement ;
for those who successfully resist temptation have appetite
and desire and yet follow mind and refuse to enact that
for which they have appetite.

433 a DE ANIMA

These two at all events appear to be sources of mcvement : 10
appetite and mind (if one may venture to regard imagina-

10 tion as a kind of thinking ; for many men l follow their
imaginations contrary to knowledge, and in all animals
other than man there is no thinking or calculation but
only imagination).

Both of these then are capable of originating local move
ment, mind and appetite: (i) mind, that is, which calcu
lates means to an end, i.e. mind practical (it differs from

15 mind speculative in the character of its end) ; while (2)
appetite is in every form of it relative to an end : for that
v^hich is the object of appetite is the stimulant of mind
practical ; and that which is last in the process of thinking
is the beginning of the action. It follows that there is a
justification for regarding these two as the sources of move
ment, i. e appetite and practical thought ; for the object
of appetite starts a movement and as a result of that
thought gives rise to movement, the object of appetite

ao being to it a source of stimulation. So too when imagina
tion originates movement, it necessarily involves appetite.

That which moves therefore is a single faculty and the
faculty of appetite ; for if there had been two sources of
movement mind and appetite they would have produced
movement in virtue of some common character. As it is,
mind is never found producing movement without appetite
(for wish is a form of appetite ; and when movement is
produced according to calculation it is also according to

35 wish), but appetite can originate movement contrary to
calculation, for desire is a form of appetite. Now mind is
always right, but appetite and imagination may be either
right or wrong. That is why, though in any case it is the
object of appetite which originates movement, this object
may be either the real or the apparent good. To produce
movement the object must be more than this : it mu&gt;t be
good that can be brought into being by action ; and only

30 what can be otherwise than as it is can thus be brought into
being. That then such a power in the soul as has been
described, i.e. that called appetite, originates movement is
1 Reading in 1. 10 n-oXXot, with Bywater.

BOOK III. 10 433 b

clear. Those who distinguish parts in the soul, if they 433
distinguish and divide in accordance with differences of
power, find themselves with a very large number of parts,
a nutritive, a sensitive, an intellective, a deliberative, and now
an appetitive part ; for these are more different from one
another than the faculties of desire and passion.

Since appetites run counter to one another, which happens 5
when a principle of reason and a desire are contrary and
is possible only in beings with a sense of time (for while
mind bids us hold back because of what is future, desire is
influenced by what is just at hand : a pleasant object which
is just at hand presents itself as both pleasant and good,
without condition in either case, because of want of foresight
into what is farther away in time), it follows that while that 10
which originates movement must be specifically one, viz.
the faculty of appetite as such (or rather farthest back of all
the object of that faculty ; for it is it that itself remaining
unmoved originates the movement by being apprehended
in thought or imagination), the things that originate
movement are numerically many.

All movement involves three factors, (i) that which
originates the movement, (2) that by means of which it
originates it, and (3) that which is moved. The expression
* that which originates the movement is ambiguous : it
may mean either (a) something which itself is unmoved or
(b) that which at once moves and is moved. Here that 15
which moves without itself being moved is the realizable
good, that which at once moves and is moved is the faculty
of appetite (for that which is influenced by appetite so far
as it is actually so influenced is set in movement, and
appetite in the sense of actual appetite is a kind of move
ment), while that which is in motion is the animal. The
instrument which appetite employs to produce movement
is no longer psychical but bodily : hence the examination 20
of it falls within the province of the functions common to
body and soul. 1 To state the matter summarily at present,
that which is the instrument in the production of movement
is to be found where a beginning and an end coincide as
1 Cf. De Motu An. 702* 2i-;o3 a 22.
G2

433 b DE ANIMA

e. g. in a ball and socket joint ; for there the convex and
the concave sides are respectively an end and a beginning
(that is why while the one remains at rest, the other is
moved) : they are separate in definition but not separable

35 spatially. For everything is moved by pushing and pulling.
Hence just as in the case of a wheel, so here there must be
a point which remains at rest, and from that point the
movement must originate.

To sum up, then, and repeat what I have said, inasmuch
as an animal is capable of appetite it is capable of self-
movement ; it is not capable of appetite without possessing
imagination ; and all imagination is either (i) calculative or

30 (2) sensitive. In the latter all animals, and not only man,
partake.

We must consider also in the case of imperfect animals, n
sc. those which have no sense but touch, what it is that in
434* them originates movement. Can they have imagination or
not ? or desire ? Clearly they have feelings of pleasure and
pain, and if they have these they must have desire. But
how can they have imagination ? Must not we say that, as
their movements are indefinite, they have imagination and
desire, but indefinitely ?

5 Sensitive imagination, as we have said, 1 is found in all
animals, deliberative imagination only in those that are cal
culative : for whether this or that shall be enacted is
already a task requiring calculation ; and there must be a
single standard to measure by, for that is pursued which is
greater. It follows that what acts in this way must be able
to make a unity out of several images.

10 This is the reason why imagination is held not to involve
opinion, in that it does not involve opinion based on
inference, though opinion involves imagination. Hence
appetite contains no deliberative element. Sometimes it
overpowers wish and sets it in movement : at times wish acts
thus upon appetite, like one sphere imparting its move
ment to another, or appetite 2 acts thus upon appetite,
i.e. in the condition of moral weakness (though by nature
1 433 b 29. 2 Reading in 1. 14 qj? #petr, with Chandler.

BOOK III. II 434 a

the higher faculty is alzvays more authoritative and gives
rise to movement). Thus three modes of movement are
possible. 15

The faculty of knowing is never moved but remains at
rest. Since the one premiss or judgement is universal and
the other deals with the particular (for the first tells us that
such and such a kind of man should do such and such a kind of
act, and the second that this is an act of the kind meant, and
I a person of the type intended), it is the latter opinion that
really originates movement, not the universal ; or rather it 20
is both, but the one does so while it remains in a state
more like rest, while the other partakes in movement.

I2 The nutritive soul then must be possessed by everything
that is alive, and every such thing is endowed with soul from
its birth to its death. For what has been born must grow,
reach maturity, and decay all of which are impossible
without nutrition. Therefore the nutritive faculty must be 35
found in everything that grows and decays.

But sensation need not be found in all things that live.
For it is impossible for touch to belong either (i) to those
whose body is uncompounded or (2) to those which are
incapable of taking in the forms without their matter.

But animals must be endowed with sensation, since 30
Nature does nothing in vain. For all things that exist by
. Nature are means to an end, or will be concomitants of
means to an end. Every body capable of forward move
ment would, if unendowed with sensation, perish and fail
to reach its end, which is the aim of Nature ; for how could it 434**
obtain nutriment? Stationary living things, it is true, have
as their nutriment that from which they have arisen ; but
it is not possible that a body which is not stationary but
produced by generation should have a soul and a discern
ing mind without also having sensation. (Nor yet even if
it were not produced by generation. 1 Why should it not
have sensation ? Because it were better so either for the 5
body or for the soul ? But clearly it would not be better

Reading yfvvrjrov be . (dXXa p.fjv ot&gt;e dyfvvrjTOv 8ia TI yap oi^ e^f i ;
in 11. 4-7, with Platt.

434 b DE AN IMA

for either: the absence of sensation will not enable the
one to think better or the other to exist better.) There
fore no body which is not stationary has soul without sen
sation.

But if a body has sensation, it must be either simple or

10 compound. And simple it cannot be ; for then it could not
have touch, which is indispensable. This is clear from what
follows. An animal is a body with soul in it: every
body is tangible, i. e. perceptible by touch ; hence neces
sarily, if an animal is to survive, its body must have tac-

15 tual sensation. All the other senses, e.g. smell, sight,
hearing, apprehend through media ; but where there is
immediate contact the animal, if it has no sensation, will
be unable to avoid some things and take others, and so will
find it impossible to survive. That is why taste also is a
sort of touch ; it is relative to nutriment, which is just tan
gible body; whereas sound, colour, and odour are innutri-

30 tious, and further neither grow nor decay. Hence it is
that taste also must be a sort of touch, because it is the
sense for what is tangible and nutritious.

Both these senses, then, are indispensable to the animal,
and it is clear that without touch it is impossible for an
animal to be. All the other senses subserve well-being
and for that very reason belong not to any and every kind

25 of animal, but only to some, e. g. those capable of forward
movement must have them ; for, if they are to survive, they
must perceive not only by immediate contact but also at a
distance from the object. This will be possible if they can
perceive through a medium, the medium being affected
and moved by the perceptible object, and the animal by

30 the medium. Just as that which produces local movement
causes a change extending to a certain point, and that which
gave an impulse causes another to produce a new impulse
so that the movement traverses a medium the first mover
impelling without being impelled, the last moved being im
pelled without impelling, while the medium (or media, for
435* there are many) is both so is it also in the case of altera
tion, except that the agent produces it without the patient s
changing its place. Thus if an object is dipped into wax,

BOOK III. 12 435 a

the movement goes on until submersion has taken place,
and in stone it goes no distance at all, while in water the
disturbance goes far beyond the object dipped : in air the
disturbance is propagated farthest of all, the air acting and
being acted upon, so long as it maintains an unbroken unity.
That is why in the case of reflection it is better, instead of 5
saying that the sight issues from the eye and is reflected,
to say that the air, so long as it remains one, is affected by
the shape and colour. On a smooth surface the air pos
sesses unity ; hence it is that it in turn sets the sight in
motion, just as if the impression on the wax were trans
mitted as far as the wax extends. 10

13 It is clear that the body of an animal cannot be simple,
i. e. consist of one element such as fire or air. For with
out touch it is impossible to have any other sense; for
every body that has soul in it must, as we have said, 1 be
capable of touch. All the other elements with the excep
tion of earth can constitute organs of sense, but all of 15
them bring about perception only through something else,
viz. through the media. Touch takes place by direct con
tact with its objects, whence also its name. All the other
organs of sense, no doubt, perceive by contact, only the
contact is mediate : touch alone perceives by immediate
contact. Consequently no animal body can consist of
these other elements.

Nor can it consist solely of earth. For touch is as it ao
were a mean between all tangible qualities, and its organ is
capable of receiving not only all the specific qualities which
characterize earth, but also the hot and the cold and all
other tangible qualities whatsoever. That is why we have
no sensation by means of bones, hair, &c.,. because they 35
consist of earth. So too plants, because they consist of 435 b
earth, have no sensation, Without touch there can be
no other sense, and the organ of touch cannot consist of
earth or of any other single element.

It is evident, therefore, that the loss of this one sense
alone must bring about the death of an animal. For as 5

435 b DE ANIMA

on the one hand nothing which is not an animal can have
this sense, so on the other it is the only one which is indis
pensably necessary to what is an animal. This explains,
further, the following difference between the other senses
and touch. In the case of all the others excess of intensity
in the qualities which they apprehend, i.e. excess of inten
sity in colour, sound, and smell, destroys not the animal

10 but only the organs of the sense (except incidentally, as
when the sound is accompanied by an impact or shock, or
where through the objects of sight or of smell certain other
things are set in motion, which destroy by contact) ; fla
vour also destroys only in so far as it is at the same time
tangible. 1 But excess of intensity in tangible qualities, e, g.

15 heat, cold, or hardness, destroys the animal itself. As
in the case of every sensible quality excess destroys the
organ, so here what is tangible destroys touch, which is
the essential mark of life ; for it has been shown that with
out touch it is impossible for an animal to be. That is
why excess in intensity of tangible qualities destroys not
merely the organ, but the animal itself, because this is the
only sense which it must have.

All the other senses are necessary to animals, as we have

20 said, 2 not for their being, but for their well-being, Such,
e. g., is sight, which, since it lives in air or water, or gener
ally in what is pellucid, it must have in order to see, and
taste because of what is pleasant or painful to it, in order
that it may perceive these qualities in its nutriment and so
may desire to be set in motion, and hearing that it may

35 have communication made to it, and a tongue that it may
communicate with its fellows.

1 Reading in 1. 13 anrov. 2 434 b 24.

INDEX

2 a_ 35 b =

Abstract objects 29 b 18, 3i b 12.

Abstraction 3 b i5.

Achelous 2o b 12.

Action 3i b 10, 33* 17.

Activity, Actuality (eVpyeia) 17*

1 6, 26 a 4, 7, 3o a i8, 3i a 6. Cf.
Actual.

Actual, Actually (cvcpyei a) 17*12,
18, b i9, 24 a i,25 b 28, 29*24, b 6,
30*17. Cf. Activity.

Actuality, Actual, Actually (fW-

28, I4 a 25, I5 b i4, 17*29, b 5, 29 a

29, b 3O, 31*3, b 25.
Age, old 8 b 22.

Air 11*20, 19*32, b 34, 20* 8, 24 b

15, 25*4, 35 a 4-
Alcmaeon 5* 29.
Alteration 6 a i2, 8 b ii, I7 b 6, 14,

Anaxagoras 4 a 25, b I, 5 a 13, b 19,

Anger 3* 26, 30.

Animal 2 b 7, io b 19, n a i, b 20,
I3 a 3, b 2, 33. M b 3, 16, 15*5,

29, 25 a 10, 28 a lO, 32 b 2O, 23,

33 b 30,34 a 6, 30, b 2, u, 24,35 a

n, b i7.

Ant I9 a i7, 28 a u.
Aphrodite 6 b 19.
Appetite, Appetitive (op*t?, opf&lt;Ti-

icdO 3 a 3o, I4 b i, 2, 31*12, 13,

32 b 3, 33*18,20,27, 28, 31, b 5,

12, 16.

Axe I2 b i2.

Belief 28* 20.
Blood 5 b i4.

Body I2 a 12, 18, b 6, 23, I3 a 2, I4 a
18, I5 b 8, n, 16*28, i8 b 9, 12,

17, 23*12, 24, b 27, 34*28, b 9,
10, 12, 35 a u.

Breath 2o b 20.

Calculation, calculative 1 5* 8, 32*
25, b 5&gt; 26,33*12, 24, b 29, 34*
7,8.

Categories 2*25, 10*15.

Cleon25*25.

Colour i8 a 27, 31, 19*10.
Concord 24 a 3i, 26*27, 29, b 6.
Critias 5 b 6.

Daedalus 6 b 18.

Definition, definitive 7*25, 30, 13*

14.

Deliberative 34*7, 12.
Democritus 3 b 3i, 4*27, 5*8, 6 b

17, 9 a i2, 32, b 8, 19*15.
Demonstration 2* 15, b 25, 7*26.
Desire, desiderative (firiQufjua, em-

GV^TIKOS) 7 a 5, I3 b 24, I4 b 2, 6,

32*25, b 6, 33 a 25, b 4, 6, 34*3.
Diagonal 30*31.
Dialectician 3* 29.
Diares i8 a 2i.
Diogenes 5*21.

Ear 20*9, I 3j 16.

Earth 5 b 8, 6*28, 25 a 6, 35* I5, b l.

Echo I9 b 25.

Efflux i8 b 15, 22*15.

Element 5 b 13, 9^4-11*7, 23*27,
24 b 30-25* 13, 35 a n- b 3.

Empedocles 4 b 1 1, 8 a 19, io a 3, 28,
I5 b 28, i8 b 20, 27*22, 30*28.

Error 27 b 4.

Essence (ouaia) I5 b 13. Cf. Sub
stance.

Eye I2 b 2o, 13*2.

Eyelids 2i b 29.

Figure I4 b 2i, 18*18, 25*18.
Final cause I5 b 2, 10, 16, 20, i6 b

24, 2o b i9, 3 2 b 2i,33*i4, 15, 34 b

24, 35 b 20.

Fire 4* I, 6 a 28, 16*9.
Fishes 2O b 10, 21*4.
Flavour I4 b 1 1, 13, 22* 6, b 10, 26 a

1 S-
Flesh 8* 1 5, 9 b 32, 23* 14, b 26, 26 b

15, 29 b 12, 16.

Food 16*22, 35, b 11, 12, 19, 23.
Form 3 b 2, 12*8, 10, 14* 12, 16, 17,

24* 1 8, 29* 15, 32* 2. Cf. Species.

Generation 15*27, i6 b i5.

Gills 24 b i3.

Good 33 a 28, 29, b 9.

INDEX

Growth 6 a i3, ii a 3O, 13*27, I5 b

29, 34 a 24.
Grubs 28 a ii.

Hand 32 a I.

Harmonic numbers 6 b 29.

Harmony 7 b 27-8* 28.

Hearing I9 b 4~2i a 6, 2i b 4, 22 a 23,

25 a 4, b 3o, 2 6 a 8, 29, 35 b 24.
Heart 3 a 3i, 8 b 8, 32 b 3i.
Hector 4 a 30.
Heraciitus 5 a 25.
Hippo 5 b 2.
Homer 4 a 29, 27 a 25.
Hunger I4 b 12.

2, 4, 7,

Idea (Platonic) 4 b 20.

Image 2b a I, 3i a i6,
8, 9 13, 34 a io.

Imagination 3 a 8, I4 b i6, I5 a 10,
11, 25 b 25, 27 b i4, 17, 27-29 a 9,
32 a io, 31, 33 a io, 12, 27, b 29,

34 a i,5-

Immortal 3O a 23.
Indivisible 3O b 2o. Cf. Simple, Un

divided.

Insects li b 2O, I3 b 2o.
Intention (7rpom /je&lt;ny) 6 b 25.
Irrational 32 a 26, 30.

Joint 33 b 22.
Judgement 27 b 25, 28.

Kind io a i3, I2 a 6, I3 b 26, I7 a 27.

Knowledge I2 a io, I4 a 9, 10, I7 a
24, 26, b 23, 26, 27 b 6, 9, 28 a i6,
29 b 6, 3o a 2o, 31* i, b 22, 23,27,
34 a 16.

Leucippus 4 a 5.

Life 4 a 9, 5 b 27, I2 a i4, I3 a l9&gt; 22,

b i, I 4 a 4 , is a 25, 35 b i6.
Light i8 b 9, 19*11, 30 a i5.
Line 9 a 4, 30.

Mathematician 3 b 15.
Mathematics 2 b 19, 3i b 16.
Matter 3 b I, 18, I2 a 7, 9, b 8, 20,

I4 a 14, 15, 16,26, i6 a 18, I7 a 27.
Mean 24 a 4, b i, 3i a n, 19, 35 a 2i.
Medium I9 a 2o- b 3, 22 b 22, 23 a 15,

b 7, 26,

Metaphysician 3 b 16.

Mind 4 a 3 i, b 2, 22, 5 a is, 1 6, 7 a 4,
23, 8 b 18, 29, io b i 4 , i 3 b 25, is a
12, b i6, 29 a 6, 7, io-32 a i4, 32 b
26, 27, 33 a is.

Mnemonics 27 b 19.

Mole 25* 10.

Movement 4 b 8, 5 a 4, 10, b 3i~7 b
n, 8 a 34- b 33 io b i7, I2 b i7,
I5 b 22, I7 a i5, 26 a 2, 5, b 30,
3i a 6, 32 a is-34 a 2i, 34 b 3i&gt; 32.

Number 2 a 22, 4 b 24, 6 b 29, 8 b 32-

9 b i8, 2 5 a i 9 .
Numerical identity n b 2i, I5 b 7,

27 a 2, 3I a 23.

Nutrition, nutritive Ii b 27, I3 a 3i,
b 5&gt; 7, M a 32, I5 a 2, 23-i6 b 3i,
34 a 22.

One, Idea of 4 b 20, 22. Cf. Unity.
Opinion 27 b 25 } 28 a i8- b 9, 34 a 10,

19.
Organ Il b 23, I2 b i, 12, I5 b 19,

l6 a 5, 20 b 22, 29 a 26.

Orphic poems io b 28.

Passion (&&amp;gt;^o&gt;) 3 a 17, I4 b 2, 32 a 25,

33 b 4-

Passive mind 3o a 24.
Philippus 6 b 17.
Plants io b 23, 30, i i b 19, 28, I2 b 3,

I3 a 25, 33, b i6, I4 a 33, 5 a 2,

24 a 33, 34 b 2, 35 b i-
Plato 4 b 1 6, 6 b 26.
Pleasure I3 b 23, I4 b 3, 31*10,

34 a 3-

Potential, Potentially, Potentiality
2 a 26, I2 a 9, I3 b i8, I4 a i6, I7 a
6, 2i- b s, 30, I9 b 5, 27 a 6,
29 a 16, 29, b 8, 30, 30 a 10-21,
3i a 2. Cf. Powers.

Powers of soul I3 a i, 33, I4 a 29~
I5 a i 3 , I5 a 25,i6 a i9,32 a 25,33 a
I, 34 a 22-35 b 25- Cf. Potential.

Practical thinking 7 a 24, 33 a i6, 18.

Pupil of the eye I3 a 2, 25 a 4, 31*17.

Pythagoreans 4 a 17, 7 b 22.

Quicksilver 6 b 19.

Reflection I9 b 16, 35 a 5-
Reminiscence 8 b 17.
Reproduction I5 a 23.
Respiration 2o b 23, 25.
Rudder i6 b 26.

Sailor 6 a 6, I3 a 9.
Seed 5 b 3, 4, I2 b 26.

Sensation depends on movement
l6 b 33; a qualitative alteration
I5 b 24; involved in being an
animal I3 b 2, cf. 34 a 3o; always
true 28 a 1 1 ; sensation involves

INDEX

pleasure and pain I3 b 23, cf. I4 b
4, 34* 3 ; sensation the number
of the solid (Plato) 4 b 23; is
what is sensible 3i b 23 ; how it
differs from knowledge I7 b
22-8; plants have none 35 b l.
Cf. Sense.

Sense, each, relative to a group of
qualities 26 b 8,25*19; sense
has two meanings i; a 12. 26*23,
28 a 6 ; not a magnitude 24* 27 ;
but a ratio, ib., 26 b 3, 7 ; hence
injured by strong stimulation
26* 30, 29* 31 ; is a mean 24* 4 ;
its work, discrimination 32* 16;
is what receives form without
nutter 24 a i8; is the form of
sensible things 32*3; activity
of object and of sense identical
25 b 26; is affected only by the
quality of its obiect 24 a 23; only
five senses 24 b 22: how distri
buted imong animals I4 a 3, I3 b
4 ; each sense apprehends one
pair of contraries, except touch
22 b 23, i8 a i4, 22 b 25; special
objects of the senses i8 a 1 1, 25*
30, 27 b 12, 28 b 1 8, 30 b 2g; com
mon objects i8 a i7, 28 b 22;
incidental objects i8 a 2O, 2b b 19;
why do we not perceive the
senses? I7 a 3; the senses sub
serve well-being 34 b 24, 35 b 19 ;
why have we more than one
sense ? 25 b 4. Cf. Sensation.

Sense-organ 1 9* 26, 22 b 22, 23 b 20,
30, 24 a 24, 25 a 3, b 23, 26 b 16,
35 a i5 18,22, b 15.

Sight I2 b i9, I3 a i, I8 a 26-i9 b 3,
2 4 a io, 26 a i 3 , 28*6, 29*3, 35 b

21.

Signet-ring 24* 19.

Simple ^c a 26, b 6, 14. Cf. Indivis
ible, Undivided.

Sleep I2 a 25.

Smell I9 a 35, b I, 2i a 7-22 a 7, 24 b
4, 6, 7, 17, 25*5, 2 6 b 2, 2 9 b 2,
34 b 20.

Snub-nosed 29 b 14, 3i b 13.

Soul, its study a task for physics
3 a 28 ; thought to be either an
element or composed of them 5 b
13; identified with fire (Demo-
critus) 3 b 3i, 5 a 8, cf. 6 b 17, 9 b
8; air (Diogenes) 5 a 2i; ex
halation (Heraclitus) a 25 ; water
(Hippo) b 2; blood(Critias) b 6;
the self-moving (Plato), 6 a i, cf.

b 26 ; a self-moving number
(Xenocrates) 8 b 32 ; a harmony
7 b 30 ; found everywhere I i a 8 ;
Aristotle s definition I2 a 27, b 5,
I4 a 27; how susceptible of a
single definition !4 b 2O, cf. I2 b
4, 2 b 5 ; involves a bo ly of a
definite kind 1 4 a 22, cf. 7 b 15-26;
inseparable from its body I3 a 4;
affection- of soul )( affections of
animal 2 a g, 3*4 ; soul not moved
6 a 2-7 b 2, 8 b 15, 30, 11*25; has
not a place 6 a i6; is that by
which we live 14* 12 ; cause
of the living body I5 b 8; holds
the body together Ii b 8, ib a 8;
natural bodies are organs of soul
I5 b 18, 7 b 26 ; nothing dominant
over soul io b 13; the whole soul
)( its parts 2 b io, ii a 3O, I3 b l3,
32 a 2o; not all parts of soul
belong to all animals I3 b 32, I4 b
29 ; power of calculation pre
supposes all the others I5 a 8. cf.
I3 a 3i, Ii b 29; each successive
power presupposes its predeces
sor I4 b 29; reproductive soul
the first i6 b 25, cf. 5 b 5 ; are the
parts distinct in local situation?
I3 b l5,ii b 26; soul is in a sense
all existing things 3i b 2i; or
rather their forms b 28, 32*2,
I7 b 23; soul the place of forms
29 a 27; alleged derivation of

Sound 2o a 2i, b 11, 29.

Species I4 b 22; specific difference,

identity 2 b 3, ii b 2o, I5 b 7. Cf.

Form.
Speculative knowledge 30*4, 33*

15-

Spontaneous generation 15*27.

Squaring 13* 17.

Substance (ouo-m) 2*23, 24, 10*20,

12*6, 7, b lo, 19, 14*14. Cf.

Essence.

Taste2i a i8, 22 a 8- b 16,26* 14, 31,

34 b i8, 21, 22, 35 b 22.
Teaching I7 b n.
Thales 5 a 19, 11*8.
Thinking (vorjvis) 7*7, 23, 32, 27 b

17,27, 30*26, 33*12.
Thirst I4 b i2.
Thought (dtdvoia) 15*8, 27 b 14, 33 a

1 8.

Time 26 b 24-31, 3o b 8.
Tongue 2o b 18, 22 b 5, 23* 1 8,

35 b 25&lt;

Touch I3 b 4, 6, I4 a 3, b 3, i 5 a 3) 4&gt;
21*19, 22 b i7-24 a i6, 24 b 25,34*
I, b i8,35i2, 17, 2i, b 2-4,6, 16.

Transparent i8 b 4, 28, 30.

Triangle 2 b 2o, I4 b 3i.

True 4 a 28, 30* 27, 3i b 10, 32 a 1 1.

Undivided 26 b 3i, 27* 5, 6, 10. Cf.

Indivisible, Simple.
Unity I2 b 8, 13*21. Cf. One.

INDEX

Universals I7 b :
Voice 2o b 5, 32.

Waking 12*25, b 28.
Water i6 a 26, 23*25.
\Vax24 a i9, 35 a 2, 9.
Weakness, moral 33*3, 34* 14,
Wish 32 b 5, 33*23, 24, 34*12.
Writing-tablet 30* I.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, OXFORD
BY JOHN JOHNSON, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY

THE

PARVA NATURALIA

DE SENSU ET SENSIBILI
DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

DE SOMNO DE SOMNIIS
DE DIVINATIONE PER SOMNUM

J. I. BEARE, M.A.

FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN; REGIUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK

(SOMETIME PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY ) IN THE

UNIVERSITY OF DUBLIN

DE LONGITUDINE ET BREVITATE VITAE

DE IUVENTUTE ET SENECTUTE
DE VITA ET MORTE DE RESPIRATIONE

G. R. T. ROSS, M.A., D.PIIIL.

LECTURER ON PHILOSOPHY AND EDUCATION IN THE
HARTLEY UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, SOUTHAMPTON

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
1908

HENRY FRO\YDE, M.A.

FUHLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD

LONDON, EDINBURGH
NEW YORK AND TORONTO

ARISTOTLE

DE SENSU

CHAPTER I

HAVING now definitely considered the soul, by itself, and 436 a
its several faculties, we must next make a survey of animals
and all living things, in order to ascertain what functions
are peculiar, and what functions are common, to them. What
has been already determined respecting the soul [sc. by itself]
must be assumed throughout. The remaining parts [sc. the
attributes of soul and body conjointly] of our subject must be
now dealt with, and we may begin with those that come first.

The most important attributes of animals, whether common
to all or peculiar to some, are, manifestly, attributes of soul
and body in conjunction, e.g., sensation, memory, passion,
appetite and desire in general, and, in addition, pleasure and
pain. For these 1 may, in fact, be said to belong to all animals. 10
But there are, besides these, certain other attributes, of which
some are common to all living things, while others are peculiar
to certain species of animals. The most important of these
may be summed up in four pairs, viz. leaking and sleeping,
youth and old age, inhalation and exhalation, life and death.
We must endeavour to arrive at a scientific conception of r
these, determining their respective natures, and the causes of
their occurrence.

But it behoves the Physical Philosopher to obtain also
a clear view of the first principles of health and disease, inas
much as neither health nor disease can exist in lifeless things.
Indeed we may say of most physical inquirers, and of those - o
physicians who study their art philosophically, that while the
former complete their works with a disquisition on medicine,
the latter usually base their medical theories on principles 436 b
derived from Physics.

1 a 10 raOra, like TOUGHS a ii, refers to all the things enumerated. K&lt;U
yup (= ctcnim, namque] confirms all from tt 6 to a n. not merely the
supcraddition of rjdovf) and AI TH;. [ For these also - sc. pleasure and
pain. Kdd.J

AK I-S J5

43 6 b UK SENSU

That all the attributes above enumerated belong to soul
and body in conjunction, is obvious ; for they all either imply
sensation as a concomitant, or have it as their medium.
5 Some are either affections or states of sensation, others,
means of defending and safe-guarding it, while others, again,
involve its destruction or negation. Now it is clear, alike by
reasoning and observation, that sensation is generated in the
soul through the medium of the body.

We have already, in our treatise de Anima, explained the
nature of sensation and the act of perceiving by sense, and

10 the reason why this affection belongs to animals. Sensation
must, indeed, be attributed to all animals as such, for by its
presence or absence we distinguish essentially between what
is and what is not an animal.

But coming now to the special senses severally, we may
say that touch and taste necessarily appertain to all animals,
touch, for the reason given in the de A/iima, 1 and taste,

1 5 because of nutrition. It is by taste that one distinguishes
in food the pleasant from the unpleasant, so as to flee from
the latter and pursue the former : and savour in general is an
affection of nutrient matter.

The senses which operate through external media, viz.
smelling, hearing, seeing, are found in all animals which possess
the faculty of locomotion. To all that possess them they are

20 a means of preservation ; their final cause being that such
creatures may, guided by antecedent perception, both pursue
their food, and shun things that are bad or destructive. But

437 a in animals which have also intelligence they serve for the

attainment of a higher perfection. They bring in tidings of
many distinctive qualities of things, from which the knowledge
of truth, speculative and practical, is generated in the soul.

Of the two last mentioned, seeing, regarded as a supply for

the primary wants of life, and in its direct effects, is the

5 superior sense ; but for developing intelligence, and in its

indirect consequences, hearing takes the precedence. The

faculty of seeing, thanks to the fact that all bodies arc

coloured, brings tidings of multitudes of distinctive qualities

of all sorts ; whence it is through this sense especially that

1 Cf. de An. 434 b 10-24.

CHAPTER I 437 a

we perceive the common sensibles, viz. figure, magnitude,
motion, number : while hearing announces only the distinctive
qualities of sound, and, to some few animals, those also of 10
voice. Indirectly, however, it is hearing that contributes most
to the growth of intelligence. For rational discourse is a cause
of instruction in virtue of its being audible, which l it is, not
directly, but indirectly ; since it is composed of words, and
each word is a thought-symbol. Accordingly, of persons 15
destitute from birth of either sense, the blind are more
intelligent than the deaf and dumb.

CHAPTER II

Of the distinctive potency of each of the faculties of sense
enough has been said already.

But as to the nature of the sensory organs, or parts of the
body in which each of the senses is naturally implanted,
inquirers now usually take as their guide the fundamental --o
elements of bodies. Not, however, finding it easy to co
ordinate five senses with four elements, they are at a loss
respecting the fifth sense. But they hold the organ of sight
to consist of fire, being prompted to this view by a certain
sensory affection of whose true cause they are ignorant. This
is that, when the eye is pressed or 2 moved, fire appears to
flash from it. This naturally takes place in darkness, or when 25
the eyelids are closed, for then, too, darkness is produced.

This theory, however, solves one question only to raise
another ; for, unless on the hypothesis that a person who is in
his full senses can see an object of vision without being aware
of it, 3 the eye must on this theory see itself. But then why
does the above affection not occur also when the eye is at
rest ? The true explanation of this affection, which will con- 30
tain the answer to our question, and account for the current
notion that the eye consists of fire, must be determined in
the following way :

1 Plato, Theaet. 2O3 b , had laid down this proposition. The comma
should precede OKOVOTOS in !l 13.

2 The phenomenon occurs even without pressure, when the eye is rolled
voluntarily from side to side in darkness. [ And. Kdd.]

3 For aladavo^vos here cf. 448 a 26-30. Thucyd. v. 26 alaBavupsvos =
in full possession of one s faculties .

13 2

437 a DK SENSU

Things which arc smooth have the natural property of
shining in darkness, without, however, producing light. Now,
437 b the part of the eye called the black , i.e. its central part,
is manifestly smooth. The phenomenon of the flash occurs
only when the eye is moved, because only then could it
possibly occur that the same one object should become as it
were two. The rapidity of the movement has the effect of
making that which sees and that which is seen seem different
5 from one another. Hence the phenomenon does not occur
unless the motion is rapid and takes place in darkness. For
it is in the dark that that which is smooth, e. g. the heads of
certain fishes, and the sepia of the cuttle-fish, naturally shines,
and, when the movement of the eye is slow, it is impossible
that that which sees and that which is seen should appear to
be simultaneously two and one. But, in fact, the eye sees

10 itself in the above phenomenon merely as it does so in
ordinary optical reflexion.

If the visual organ proper really were fire, which is the
doctrine of Empcdocles, a doctrine taught also in the Timacns^
and if vision were the result of light issuing from the eye as
from a lantern, why should the eye not have had the power
of seeing even in the dark ? It is totally idle to say, as the

15 Timaeus docs, that the visual ray coming forth in the dark
ness is quenched. What is the meaning of this quenching of
light? That which, like a fire of coals or an ordinary flame,
is hot and dry is, indeed, quenched by the moist or cold ; but
heat and dryness are evidently not attributes of light. Or if
they are attributes of it, but belong to it in a degree so slight

;o as to be imperceptible to us, we should have expected that in
the daytime 2 the light of the sun should be quenched when
rain falls, and that darkness should prevail in frosty weather.
Flame, for example, and ignited bodies are subject to such
extinction, but experience shows that nothing of this sort
happens to the sunlight.

Empcdocles at times seems to hold that vision is to be
explained as above stated by light issuing forth from the eye,

- ; e. g., in the following passage :

1 Cf. Tim. 45 D.

- Probably for rf we should read y(. n&lt;ff ypcpav is emphatic.

CHAPTER II 437b

As when one who purposes going abroad prepares

a lantern,

A gleam of fire blazing through the stormy night,
Adjusting thereto, to screen it from all sorts of winds.

transparent sides,

Which scatter the breath of the winds as they blow,
While, out through them leaping, the fire, i. e. all the :,o

more subtile part of this,

Shines along his threshold with incessant beams :
So [Divine love] embedded the round " lens , [viz.] the 43 8 a

primaeval fire fenced within the membranes.
In [its own] delicate tissues ;

And these fended off the deep surrounding flood,
While leaping forth l the fire, i.e. all its more subtile part .

Sometimes he accounts for vision thus, but at other times
he explains it by emanations from the visible objects.

Democritus, on the other hand, is right in his opinion that 5
the eye is of water ; not, however, when he goes on to explain
seeing as mere mirroring. The mirroring that takes place
in an eye is due to the fact that the eye is smooth, and
it really has its seat not in the eye which is seen, but in that
which sees. For the case is merely one of reflexion. But it
would seem that even in his time there was no scientific
knowledge of the general subject of the formation of images 10
and the phenomena of reflexion. It is strange too, that it
never occurred to him to ask why, if his theory be true, the
eye alone sees, while none of the other things in which images
are reflected do so.

True, then, the visual organ proper is composed of water,
yet vision appertains to it not because it is so composed, but
because it is translucent a property common alike to water
and to air. But water is more easily confined and more easily 15
condensed - than air ; wherefore it is that the pupil, i. e. the
eye proper, consists of water. That it does so is proved by

1 Diels reads fiuWfcop, allowed to pass through (subject at, sc. Movm).

a Evni\r]TOT(pov 438*15 is wrong. The rendering magis spissa ,

denser , slurs the tv- to save the sense. We should probably read

(VnTroArjTrrorfpov, for which cf. 2I3 U 27 (V(nr&lt;i\(in!3avoLT(S [rot/ (i/pa] f v TUIS

K\(\l/v8pais. Cf. also 9i4 b n. It is false (cf. 386 8- 10) to say that water
is evTTtXr/roVfpoi/ TOV upof, but it is more easily secluded in a capsule.
Thurot after Alexander suggests ttuTroXr/TTTdrfpoj , in opposition to 5i&lt;;-

438 a

DE SENSU

facts of actual experience. The substance which flows from
eyes when decomposing is seen to be water, and this in
undeveloped embryos is remarkably cold and glistening. In

20 sanguineous animals the white of the eye is fat and oily,
in order that the moisture of the eye may be proof against
freezing. Wherefore the eye is of all parts of the body the
least sensitive to cold : no one ever feels cold in the part
sheltered by the eyelids. The eyes of bloodless animals are
covered with a hard scale which gives them similar protection.

2 ; It is, to state the matter generally, an irrational notion that
the eye should see in virtue of something issuing from it ;
that the visual ray should extend itself all the way to the
stars, or else go out merely to a certain point, and there
coalesce, as some say, with rays which proceed from the
object. It would be better to suppose this coalescence l to
take place in the fundament of the eye itself. But even
this would be mere trifling. For what is meant by the

30 coalescence of light with light? Or how is it possible?

Coalescence does not occur between any two things taken

at random. And how could the light within the eye coalesce

438 b with that outside it ? For the environing membrane comes

between them.

That without light vision is impossible has been stated
elsewhere ; - but, whether the medium between the eye and
its objects is air or light, vision is caused by a process through
this medium.

. Accordingly, that the inner part of the eye consists of water
is easily intelligible, water being translucent.

Now, as vision outwardly is impossible without [extra-
organic] light, so also it is impossible inwardly [without light
within the organ]. There must, therefore, be some translucent
medium within the eye, and, as this is not air, it must be
water. The soul or its perceptive part is not situated at the
external surface of the eye, but obviously somewhere within :

]C whence the necessity of the interior of the eye being trans
lucent, i. e. capable of admitting light. And that it is so is

- organic fusion : a growing of things into one. The nearest
term for this is coalescence in its strict or Latin sense.

- Cf. dc An, 4i8 b 1 seqq.

CHAPTER II 438b

plain from actual occurrences. It is matter of experience that
soldiers wounded in battle by a sword slash on the temple,
so inflicted as to sever 1 the passages of [i.e. inward from]
the eye, feel a sudden onset of darkness, as if a lamp had
gone out ; because what is called the pupil, i. e. the translucent,
which is a sort of inner lamp, is then cut off [from its connexion 15
with the soul].

Hence, if the facts be at all as here stated, it is clear that
if one should explain the nature of the sensory organs in this
way, i. e., by correlating each of them with one of the four
elements, we must conceive that the part of the eye im
mediately concerned in vision consists of water, that the part
immediately concerned in the perception of sound consists JQ
of air, and that the sense - of smell consists of fire. (I say the
sense of smell, not the organ.) For the organ of smell is only
potentially that which the sense of smell, as realized, is actually ;
since the object of sense is what causes the actualization of
each sense, so that it (the sense) must (at the instant of
actualization) be (actually) that which before (the moment
of actualization) it was potentially. Now, odour is a smoke-
like evaporation, and smoke-like evaporation arises from fire.
This also helps us to understand why the olfactory organ has 2$
its proper seat in the environment of the brain, for cold matter
is potentially hot. In the same way must the genesis of the
eye be explained. Its structure is an offshoot from the brain,
because the latter is the inoistcst and coldest of all the bodily
parts.

The organ of touch proper consists of earth, and the 30
faculty of taste is a particular form of touch. This explains 439 a
why the sensory organ of both touch and taste is closely
related to the heart. For the heart, as being the hottest of all
the bodily parts, is the counterpoise of the brain.

This then is the way in which the characteristics of the
bodily organs of sense must be determined. 5

1 [Read perhaps (after Bywater, /. P. 28. 242) ooare rp^vat, so that
the passages are cut. Edd.J

2 The organs of the other senses are regarded here as being actually

y, &c., but the organ of smell as being only potentially rrvpus (the
being actually so). Like the brain, near which it is situated, it
is actually cold, and only potentially hot.

43ga DE SKNSU

CHAPTER III

Of the scnsibles corresponding to each sensory organ, viz.
colour, sound, odour, savour, touch, we have treated in the de
Anlma^ in general terms, having there determined what their
function is, and what is implied in their becoming actualized

10 in relation to their respective organs. We must next consider
what account we are to give of any one of them ; what, for
example, we should say colour is, or sound ^ or odour ^ or savour ;
and so also respecting [the object of] touch. We begin with
colour.

Now, each of them may be spoken of from two points of
view, i. e., cither as actual or as potential. We have in the
dc Aiiima - explained in what sense the colour, or sound,
regarded as actualized [for sensation], is the same as, and in

i; what sense it is different from, the correlative sensation, the
actual seeing or hearing. The point of our present discussion
is, therefore, to determine what each sensible object must be in
itself, in order to be perceived as it is in actual consciousness.
We have 15 already in the de Anima stated of Light that it
is the colour of the Translucent, [being so related to it]
incidentally ; for whenever a fiery element is in a translucent

20 medium its presence there is Light ; while the privation of it
is Darkness. But the Translucent , as we call it, is not
something peculiar to air, or water, or any other of the bodies
usually called translucent, but is a common nature and
power, capable of no separate existence of its own, but residing
in these, and subsisting likewise in all other bodies in a greater

2$ or less degree. As the bodies in which it subsists must have
some extreme bounding surface, so too must this. Here, 4
then, we may say that Light is a nature inhering in the
Translucent when the latter is without determinate boundary.
But it is manifest that, when the Translucent is in determinate

1 Cf. de An. 418* 26 seqq., 41 9 b 5 seqq., 42 i a 7 seqq., 422 a 8 seqq., 422 *
17 seqq., for Aristotle s treatment of these sensibles respectively.

l de An, 425^ 25~426 b 8.

;1 eoaTrf,* : the apodosis begins at } \n\v oui&gt; a 26. For Light and Colour
cf. de An. 418* 26 seqq.

4 Referring back to protasis a 18.

CHAPTER III 43ga

bodies, its bounding extreme must be something real ; and that
colour is just this something we are plainly taught by facts
colour being actually either at the external limit, or being 30
itself that limit, in bodies. Hence it was that the Pytha
goreans named the superficies of a body its hue . for * hue ,
indeed, lies at the limit of the body ; but the limit of the body
is not a real thing ; ] rather \ve must suppose that the same
natural substance which, externally, is the vehicle of colour
exists [as such a possible vehicle] also in the interior of the
body.

Air and water, too [i.e. as well as determinately bounded 439!)
bodies], are seen to possess colour ; for their brightness is of
the nature of colour. But the colour which air or sea presents,
since the body in which it resides is not determinately bounded,
is not the same when one approaches and views it close by as
it is when one regards it from a distance ; whereas in deter- 5
minate bodies the colour presented is definitely fixed, unless,
indeed, when the atmospheric environment causes it to change.
Hence it is clear that that in them which is susceptible of
colour is in both cases the same. It is therefore the Trans
lucent, according to the degree to which it subsists in bodies
(and it does so in all more or less), that causes them to
partake of colour. But since the colour is at the extremity of 10
the body, it must be at the extremity of the Translucent
in the body. Whence it follows that we may define colour as
the limit of the Translucent in determinately bounded body.
For whether we consider the special class of bodies called
translucent, as water and such others, or determinate bodies,
which appear to possess a fixed colour of their own, it is at the
exterior bounding surface - that all alike exhibit their colour.

Now, that which when present in air produces light may be
present also in the Translucent which pervades determinate 15
bodies ; or again, it may not be present, but there may be
a privation of it. Accordingly, as in the case of air the
one condition is light, the other darkness, in the same way

1 Thus it differs from TO eo-^iroi/ TOV ftuxfxivovs, which /V a real thing ( a 28).
The limit of body is its geometrical surface, and merely quantitative, but
colour is a quality. In a real thing, quality and quantity are combined.

- In 439 14 the comma should come after iTni/^fi, not after

439 b DE SENSU

the colours White and Black are generated in determinate
bodies.

We must now treat of the other colours, reviewing the
several hypotheses invented to explain their genesis.

20 i. It is conceivable that the White and the Black should
be juxtaposed in quantities so minute that [a particle of]
either separately would be invisible, though the joint product
[ of two particles, a black and a white] would be visible ; and
that they should thus have the other colours for resultants.
Their product could, at all events, appear neither white nor
black ; and, as it must have some colour, and can have neither

_&gt;5 of these, this colour must be of a mixed character in fact,
a species of colour different from either. Such, then, is
a possible way of conceiving the existence of a plurality of
colours besides the White and Black ; and we may suppose
that [of this plurality ] many are the result of a [numerical]
ratio ; for the blacks and whites may be juxtaposed in the
ratio of 3 to 2, or of 3 to 4, or in ratios expressible by other
numbers; while some may be juxtaposed according to no

30 numerically expressible ratio, but according to some relation
of excess or defect in which the blacks and whites involved
would be incommensurable quantities ; and, accordingly, we
may regard all these colours [viz. all those based on numerical
ratios] as analogous to the sounds that enter into music, 1
and suppose that those involving simple numerical ratios, like
the concords in music, may be those generally regarded as
most agreeable ; as, for example, purple, crimson, and some
few such colours, their fewness being due to the same causes

440 a which render the concords few. The other compound colours

may be those which are not based on numbers. Or it may
be that, while all colours whatever [except black and white]
are based on numbers, some are regular in this respect,
others irregular ; and that the latter [though now supposed
to be all based on numbers], whenever they are not pure,

1 E*ct b 32 refers to rals (rv^coviais h 31, implying a wider meaning for
this term there than it has in b 33, where it = the great concords, dis
tinctively called by musical writers ai o-vp.&lt;f&gt;a&gt;vim (viz. the octave, fourth,
and fifth), which have simple ratios. We must remember that musical
sounds (though all involve \6yos) are not all concords. These musical
sounds in general are those referred to as no\\as b 27. The concords are
comparatively few (440* 2).

CHAPTER III 440a

owe this character to a corresponding impurity 1 in [the
arrangement of] their numerical ratios. This then is one r
conceivable hypothesis to explain the genesis of intermediate
colours.

2. Another 2 is that the Black and White appear the one
through the medium of the other, giving an effect like that
sometimes produced by painters overlaying a less vivid upon
a more vivid colour, as when they desire to represent an
object appearing under water or enveloped in a haze, and 10
like that produced by the sun, which in itself appears white,
but takes a crimson hue when beheld through a fog or a cloud
of smoke. On this hypothesis, too, a variety of colours may
be conceived to arise in the same way as that already
described ; for between those at the surface and those under
neath a definite ratio might sometimes exist ; in other cases
they might stand in no determinate ratio. To [introduce
a theory of colour which would set all these hypotheses aside,
and] say with the ancients that colours are emanations, and i;
that the visibility of objects is due to such a cause, is absurd.
For they must, in any case, explain sense-perception through
Touch ; so that it were better to say at once that visual
perception is due to a process set up by the perceived object
in the medium between this object and the sensory organ ;

1 By the new hypothesis, all colours are fv a^idp-ols^ but all need not be
TfTny/jifvai tv dpidp.o is, and only these are KaOapa t, i. e. pleasant, or piu e,

colours. TotaiTflS goes with (ivat 44O :l 6, not with yiyvfo-Qat. yiyvftrOdi

is here used again as it has been above, 439 b 22, so as to contain the
predicate. The colours which are not Kadapai arise , owing to their not
being such (i.e. not being Ttraypcvai) in their numerical basis. All are tv
apifytoty, but not all rera-y/ifV&lt;u fv tipiflpnis : the same construction as in
440* 3-4. The (wras a 5 points the antithesis between the xp (U on ^ ie
new and on the old hypothesis. To take roiavras with yiyvfa-Om would
involve a contradiction in terms. Hence attempts at correction like
Biehl s rols nvroiV ante upiO. Better than this would have been the
insertion of roiourots before rotavras. But the construction is quite natural
without change, if rotavrns be construed with emit and understood as
above = rt Tiiyptvas eV apiQpots. The UTOKTOI which turn out impure
would thus be those in which a single, uniform ratio is not observed
throughout all the mixture, but in which the ingredients are some mixed
in one ratio, others in another, so that the ratios themselves are mixed,
or impure. The rfraypfvai or Kadapai XP" U are * ne opposite. So
Alexander.

2 On this second colour-hypothesis we are not dealing with infmi-
tesimally small amounts of black and white : we may now have surfaces
of any extent, a black above and a white below, or I icc i ers&lt;i.

440 a DE SENSU

due, that is, to contact [with the medium affected], not to
emanations. 1

20 If we accept the hypothesis of juxtaposition, we must assume
not only invisible magnitude, but also imperceptible time, in
order that the succession in the arrival of the stimulatory
movements may be unperceived, and that the compound
colour seen may appear to be one, owing to its successive parts
seeming to present themselves at once. On the hypothesis
of superposition, however, no such assumption is needful : the
stimulatory process produced in the medium by the upper
colour, when this is itself unaffected, will be different in kind

25 from that produced by it when affected by the underlying
colour. Hence it presents itself as a different colour, i.e. as
one which is neither white nor black. So that, if it is im
possible to suppose any magnitude to be invisible, and we
must assume that there is some distance from which every
magnitude is visible, this superposition theory, too [i. e. as
well as Xo. 3 infra], might pass as a real theory of colour-
mixture. Indeed, in the previous case also there is no
reason why, to persons at a distance from the juxtaposed
blacks and whites, some one colour should not appear to

.-,&gt; present itself as a blend of both. [But it would not be
so on a nearer view], for it will be shown, in a discussion to
be undertaken later on, that there is no magnitude absolutely
invisible.-

3. 3 There is a mixture of bodies, however, not merely such
440 b as some suppose, i. e. by juxtaposition of their minimal parts,
which, owing to [the weakness of our] sense, are imperceptible
by us. but a mixture by which they [i. e. the matter of
which they consist] are wholly blent together by interpenetra-
tion, as we have described it in the treatise on Mixture. 4

1 \Ve see from 435* 18 how far Aristotle was prepared to go with the
theory which would reduce all sensations to modes of Touch. Alexander s
reading (f? acfr/ /cal r&lt;ur) seems to give a simpler sense than that of Biehl,
but does not suit the TTIIVT^S ( in any case ) of a 17. The insertion of //
arose from thinking that Aristotle could in no sense admit tKpj i to
a participation in visual activity.

* Cf. de Sensu vii. 448" 24 - b 14.

* The apodosis to fi* fVrt begins with &lt;JXXu on 440 13.

4 Cf. 328* 5 seqq. where piis and avvQcots are distinguished and
severally explained. Cf. Joachim, Aristotle s Conception of Chemical
Combination, Journal oj Philology, xxix. 72 86.

CHAPTER III 440 b

where we dealt with this subject generally in its most com
prehensive aspect. For, on the supposition we are criticizing,
the only totals capable of being mixed are those which are 5
divisible into minimal parts, [e.g. genera into individuals] as
men, horses, or the [various kinds of] seeds. For of mankind
as a whole the individual man is such a least part ; of horses
[as an aggregate], the individual horse. Hence by the juxta
position of these we obtain a mixed total, consisting [like
a troop of cavalry] of both together ; but we do not say that
by such a process any individual man has been mixed with
any individual horse. Not in this way, but by complete 10
interpenetration [of their matter], must we conceive those
things to be mixed which are not divisible into minima; and
it is in the case of these that natural mixture exhibits itself in
its most perfect form. We have explained already in our
discourse On Mixture how such mixture is possible. This
being the true nature of mixture, it is plain that when bodies
are mixed their colours also are necessarily mixed at the same
time; and [it is no less plain] that this is the real cause 15
determining the existence of a plurality of colours not super
position or juxtaposition. For when bodies are thus mixed,
their resultant colour presents itself as one and the same at
all distances alike ; not varying as it is seen nearer or farther
away.

Colours will thus, too [as well as on the former hypotheses],
be many in number on account of the fact that the ingredients
may be combined with one another in a multitude of ratios ; 20
some will be based on determinate numerical ratios, 1 while
others again will have as their basis a relation of quantitative
excess or defect not expressible in integers. And all else that
was said in reference to the colours, considered as juxtaposed
or superposed, may be said of them likewise when regarded
as mixed in the way just described.

Why colours, as well as savours and sounds, consist of species
determinate [in themselves] and not infinite [in number] is a
question which we shall discuss hereafter. 2 25

1 The TU (v apidfiols b 20 includes under it the cases of those merely
Adyta in some sort of numerical ratio and of those eV evXoyiVrotr Xdyoir.
* de Sensu, ch. vi. 445 21 29, 446* 16-20.

440 b DE SENSU

CHAPTER IV

We have now explained what colour is. and the reason why
there are many colours ; while before, in our work de Anima, 1
we explained the nature of sound and voice. We have next
to speak of Odour and Savour, both of which are almost the
same physical affection, although they each have their being

30 in different things. 2 Savours, as a class, display their nature
more clearly to us than Odours, the cause of which is that the
441 a olfactory sense of man is inferior in acuteness to that of the
lower animals, and is, when compared with our other senses,
the least perfect of all. Man s sense of Touch, on the contrary,
excels that of all other animals in fineness, and Taste is
a modification of Touch.

Now the natural substance water per sc tends to be tasteless.
But [since without water tasting is impossible] either (a) we
must suppose that water contains in itself [uniformly diffused
through it] the various kinds of savour, already formed, though
5 in amounts so small as to be imperceptible, which is the doctrine
of Empedocles ; or (b) the water must be a sort of matter,
qualified, as it were, to produce germs of savours of all kinds,
so that all kinds of savour are generated from the water, though
different kinds from its different parts ; or else (c) the water is
in itself quite undifferentiated in respect of savour [whether
developed or undeveloped], but some agent, such for example
as one might conceive Heat or the Sun to be, is the efficient
cause of savour.

10 (a) Of these three hypotheses, the falsity of that held by
Empedocles is only too evident. For we see that when peri-
carpal fruits 3 are plucked [from the tree] and exposed in the

1 de An. 41 9 b 5 seqq. (sound), and 420 * 5 seqq. (voice).

- i. e. not merely (v u\\u&gt;y(Vfi (cf. ch. v. ad init.} but also in different physi
cal media and vehicles, oo-p} being in air and water, x^/ios- in water. Cf.
ch. v. ad init. The meaning is clear from Theophr. De Cans. PL VI. i. I
\V[JLUS fJLtv i] TOII rjpov dia rov vypov dir]6i](Tis VTTO 8(pp.ov . . . ocrpfj de TOV fv
\vp.d) \l(bi le^. eyxvfjLov] rjpov (V ro&gt; diafpavd TOVTO yap KOIVOV ae pop Km vdaros
K&lt;ii axeSbv TO civroirdQos tori ^u/xoO rt nai o(rp.fjf^ OVK (v rols avrols df cicarcpoir.
This book of Theophrastus should be read with the present chapter of
Arist. de Sensu, and also with ch. v. Cf. de Sensu v. ad init. 442 29,
and443 b is.

3 ircpiKaprriwv. Aristotle often (cf. Ideler, Meteor, ii. p. 424 quod ntpi-
hoc et aliis in locis ab Aristotele vocatur, Kapnos a Graecis

CHAPTER IV 44ia

sun, or subjected to the action of fire, their sapid juices l are
changed by the heat, which shows that their qualities are not
due to their drawing anything from the water in the ground,
but to a change which they undergo within the pericarp itself ;
and we see, moreover, that these juices, when extracted and
allowed to lie, instead of sweet become by lapse of time harsh 15
or bitter, or acquire savours of any and every sort ; and that,
again, by the process of boiling or fermentation 2 they are
made to assume almost all kinds of new savours.

(b) It is likewise impossible that water should be a material
qualified to generate all kinds of Savour germs [so that
different savours should arise out of different parts of the
water] ; for we see different kinds of taste generated from the
same water, having it as their nutriment.

(c) It remains, therefore, to suppose that the water is changed 30
by passively receiving some affection from an external agent.
Now, it is manifest that water does not contract the quality of
sapidity from the agency of Heat alone. For water is of all
liquids the thinnest, thinner even than oil itself, though oil,
owing to its viscosity, is more ductile than water, the latter --5
being uncohesive in its particles ; whence water is more
difficult than oil to hold in the hand without spilling. But
since perfectly pure water does not, when subjected to the
action of Heat, show any tendency to acquire consistency,
we must infer that some other agency than heat is the cause
of sapidity. For all savours [i. c. sapid liquors] exhibit

a comparative consistency. Heat is, however, a co-agent in
the matter.

Now the sapid juices found in pericarpal fruits evidently 441 b
exist also in the earth. Hence many of the old natural philo
sophers assert that water has qualities like those of the earth
through which it flows, a fact especially manifest in the case
of saline springs, for salt is a form of earth. Hence also when

vocatum est ) uses irfpiKdpniov for what ordinary (ireeks would have
called Kupnos, e.g. the grape is for him a TrepiKiipmov. Cf. Theoph. J)e dins.
PI. I. l6. I xapTTos 5 eort ro &lt;TvyK(ip.(i&gt;ov (nr(pp.a ^tra TOU TrepiKapniov.

1 xvp "* in a 12 = xi Xour, but there is no need to adopt this reading.

3 Boiling would not be adequate as a rendering, and fyetr&u
is applied to new wine, or must, 38o b 31-2. Aristotle is here probably
thinking of such changes as are undergone by, e. g., the juice of the grape
when extracted and left to ferment.

44 i b UE SENSU

r liquids are filtered through ashes, a bitter substance, the taste
they yield is bitter. There are many wells, too, of which some
are bitter, others acid, while others exhibit other tastes of all
kinds.

As was to be anticipated, therefore, it is in the vegetable
kingdom that tastes occur in richest variety. For, like all
things else, the Moist, by nature s law ? is affected only by its
contrary ; and this contrary is the Dry. Thus we see why
10 the Moist is affected by Fire, which, as a natural substance, is
dry. Heat is, however, the essential property of Fire, as
Dryness is of Earth, according to what has been said in our
treatise 1 on the elements. Fire and Earth, therefore, taken
absolutely as such, have no natural power to affect, or be
affected by, one another ; nor have any other pair of sub-
15 stances. Any two things can affect, or be affected by, one
another only so far as contrariety to the other resides in cither
of them.

As, therefore, persons washing Colours or Savours in a liquid
cause the water in which they wash to acquire such a quality
[as that of the colour or savour], so nature, too, by washing the
Dry and Earthy in the Moist, and by filtering the latter, that
is, moving it on by the agency of heat through the dry and
earthy, imparts to it a certain quality. This affection, wrought
20 by the aforesaid Dry in the Moist, capable of transforming
the sense of Taste from potentiality to actuality, is Savour.
Savour brings into actual exercise the perceptive faculty
which pre-existed only in potency. The activity of sense-
perception in general is analogous, not to the process of
acquiring knowledge, but to that of exercising knowledge
already acquired.

That Savours, either as a quality or as the privation
-5 of a quality, belong not to every form of the Dry but to the
Nutrient, we shall see by considering that neither the Dry
without the Moist, nor the Moist without the Dry. is nutrient.
For no single element, but only composite substance, con
stitutes nutriment for animals. Now, among the perceptible
elements of the food which animals assimilate, the tangible are

1 Cf. de Gen. ct Con; 328 b 33 seqq. for the affection of contraries by their
contraries, and for what is here said of Fire and Earth.

CHAPTER IV

441 b

the efficient causes of growth and decay ; it is qua hot or cold
that the food assimilated causes these ; for the heat or cold is 3
the direct cause of growth or decay. It is qua gustable, how
ever, that the assimilated food supplies nutrition. For all 442 a
organisms are nourished by the Sweet [i. e. the gustable
proper], either by itself or in combination with other savours.
Of this we must speak with more precise detail in our work on
Generation : l for the present we need touch upon it only so far
as our subject here requires. Heat causes growth, and fits the
food-stuff for alimentation ; it attracts [into the organic 5
system] that which is light [viz. the sweet], while the salt and
bitter it rejects because of their heaviness. In fact, whatever
effects external heat produces in external bodies, the same are
produced by their internal heat in animal and vegetable organ
isms. Hence it is [i.e. by the agency of heat as described)
that nourishment is effected by the sweet. The other
savours are introduced into and blended in food [naturally]
on a principle analogous to that on which the saline or the 10
acid is used artificially, i. e. for seasoning. These latter are
used because they counteract the - tendency of the sweet to
be too nutrient, and to float on the stomach.

As the intermediate colours arise from the mixture of white
and black, so the intermediate savours arise from the Sweet
and Bitter ; and these savours, too, severally involve either 3 a
definite ratio, or else an indefinite relation of degree, between
their components, cither having certain integral numbers at the , -
basis of their mixture, and, consequently, of their stimulative
effect, or else being mixed in proportions not arithmetically
expressible. The tastes which give pleasure in their com
bination are those which have their components joined in
a definite ratio.

1 de Gen. An. 762 * 12 seqq. Cf. also de (Jen. ct L\rr. 335"* lo seqq
and de part. An. 650* 3 seqq.

2 Biehl s UVTI irai/Twi&gt; is not legitimately translatable, though if it could
be taken with r&lt;u&gt;a it might be rendered these (viz. the saline and acid)
as substitutes for all Nature s variety . Read avrurrravTio, without comma
before ro&gt;. For avTunruv with dat. cf. 873** 20.

3 Thurot s suggestion of ft rj for drj has been adopted. KUTU \6yov and
TW /ifiXXoi/ Km T]Trov are here as before consistently opposed to one another ;
they are the alternatives. KfT&lt;iXo-yo/ = i in determinate ratio. Cf.439 b 29-30
Kfjra /^eV Xoyoi/ fjirjdfva, KnO vn(po\fji&gt; de riva *ai eAXft^if iiuvfintrpor, the
passage to which a 12 o&gt;rr;rf/) T&lt;\ ,Y/&gt;u&gt;/^mi refers.

44 2 a DE SENSU

The sweet taste alone is Rich, [therefore the latter may be
regarded as a variety of the former], while [so far as both
imply privation of the Sweet] the Saline is fairly identical with
the Bitter. Between the extremes of sweet and bitter come
the Harsh, the Pungent, the Astringent, and the Acid. Savours
and Colours, it will be observed, contain respectively about the

20 same number of species. For there are seven l species of
each, if, as is reasonable, we regard Dun [or Grey] as a variety
of Black (for the alternative is that Yellow should be classed
with White, as Rich with Sweet) ; while [the irreducible
colours, viz.] Crimson, Violet, leek-Green, and deep Blue,
come between White and Black, and from these all others

35 are derived by mixture.

Again, as Black is a privation of White in the Translucent,
so Saline or Bitter is a privation of Sweet in the Nutrient
Moist. This explains why the ash of all burnt things is
bitter; for the potable [sc. the sweet] moisture has been exuded
from them.

30 Dcmocritus 2 and most of the natural philosophers who treat

442 b of sense-perception proceed quite irrationally, for they represent

all objects of sense as objects of Touch. Yet, if this is really

so, it clearly follows that each of the other senses is a mode of

Touch ; but one can see at a glance that this is impossible.

1 a 20-25. ^ e have seven colours if \ve either merge Dun (or Grey)
in Black or Yellow in White. If we merged both, we should have only
six : if we allowed both to stand out, eight. So we have seven savours if
we merge Rich in Sweet or Saline in Bitter. The clause Acin-crm . . .
yXvKtos should be printed as parenthetical, indicating the other way of
obtaining the number seven The seven colours are thus Crimson, Violet,
Green, Blue, Black, \Vhite, with either Yellow or Dun. &lt;j&gt;mus is cither Dun
or Grey. In spite of Susemihl s computation, fnra is right. Cf. Theophr.
Cans. PL vi. i. 2 ra 6 tldrirvv xi /io&gt;i&gt; a&gt;r piv (is apiOpov airo&ovvat padtov, olov
yXvKis Xnrapus avar/;po9 (Trpvfyvbs dptfiVS dX/ivpoy nixpbs ovs. Here he gives
eight species, but in vi. 4. I he writes : at 6c tSt ai TOOV \vp.vv eVra doKovatv
civai Kadiintp Kal TO&gt;V OCT-/LZOOJ/ /cat TO&gt;J&gt; ^pw/iaVcoi , TOITO 6e Civ TIS rov aXfivpov
ov% erepov ridr/ rov niKpov KaBdnfp Kal TO &lt;j&gt;aibi&gt; TOV /JeAafOf. tav 6e ^u&gt;pi^i)
avpflaivci TOITOV oy8uoi&gt; twai. ^ator is treated as a shade of black and
dA/u&gt;poV as a variety of niKpov, while av66v and \inapov, though closely
connected with Xcixop and y\vKv, are separate qualities and counted in
the seven. Cf. ffovXfrai yap 6 llT(iXep.mos cnra \pa)p.ara dvai rtjs ipt8of,
Olympiod. in Meteor, lib. iii. and Ideler, Meteor, ii. p. 138.

* It is amazing how Thurot can have regarded the following passage
as irrelevant. If Democritus explanation of Taste by the shapes of
atoms were correct, Aristotle s theory of it would fall to the ground. Hence
he had to grapple with it.

CHAPTER IV 442 b

Again, they treat the percepts common to all senses as
proper to one. For [the qualities by which they explain 5
taste, viz.] Magnitude and Figure, Roughness and Smoothness,
and, moreover, the Sharpness and Bluntness found in solid
bodies, are percepts common to all the senses, or if not to all,
at least to Sight and Touch. This explains why it is that
the senses are liable to err regarding them, while no such
error arises respecting their proper sensibles ; e. g. the sense
of Seeing is not deceived as to Colour, nor is that of Hearing
as to Sound.

On the other hand, they reduce the proper to common 10
sensibles, as Democritus does with White and Black ; for he
asserts that the latter is [a mode of the] rough, and the former
[a mode of the] smooth, while he reduces Savours to the atomic
figures. Yet surely no one sense, or, if any, the sense of Sight
rather than any other, can discern the common sensibles. But
if we suppose that the sense of Taste is better able to do so,
then since to discern the smallest objects in each kind is what 15
marks the acutest sense Taste should have been the sense which
best perceived the common sensibles generally, and showed
the most perfect power of discerning figures in general.

Again, all the sensibles involve contrariety ; e. g. in Colour
White is contrary to Black, and in Savours Bitter is contrary
to Sweet ; but no one figure is reckoned as contrary to any . o
other figure. Flse, to which of the possible polygonal figures
[to which Democritus reduces Bitter] is the spherical figure
[to which he reduces Sweet] contrary ?

Again, since figures are infinite in number, savours also
should be infinite ; [the possible rejoinder that they are so,
only that some are not perceived cannot be sustained] for
why should one savour be perceived, and another not ?

This completes our discussion of the object of Taste, i.e.
Savour; for the other affections of Savours are examined in 25
their proper place in connection with the natural history
of Plants.

C 2

442 b

DE SENSU

CHAPTER V

Our conception of the nature of Odours must be analogous to
that of Savours; inasmuch as the Sapid Dry 1 effects 2 in air
and water alike, but in a different province of sense, precisely
what the Dry effects 3 in the Moist of water only. We custom-

30 arily predicate Translucency of both air and water in common ;
443 a but it is not qua translucent that either is a vehicle of odour,
but qua possessed of a power of washing or rinsing [and so
imbibing] the Sapid Dry ness.

For the object of Smell exists not in air only : it also exists
in water. This is proved by the case of fishes and testacea,
5 which are seen to possess the faculty of smell, although water
contains no air (for whenever air is generated within water
it rises to the surface), and these creatures do not respire.
Hence, if one were to assume that air and water are both moist,
it would follow that Odour is the natural substance consisting
of the Sapid Dry diffused in the Moist, and whatever is of this
kind would be an object of Smell.

That the property of odorousness is based upon the Sapid
may be seen by comparing the things which possess with those

13 which do not possess odour. The elements, viz. Fire, Air,
Earth, Water, are inodorous, because both the dry and the
moist among them are without sapidity, unless some added
ingredient produces it. This explains why sea-water possesses
odour, for [unlike elemental water] it contains savour and
clryness. Salt, too, is more odorous than natron, as the oil

15 which exudes from the former proves, for natron is allied to
[ elemental ] earth more nearly than salt. Again, a stone is
inodorous, just because it is tasteless, while, on the contrary,
wood is odorous, because it is sapid. The kinds of wood, too,
which contain more [ elemental ] water are less odorous than
others. Moreover, to take the case of metals, 4 gold is inodorous

1 In b 29 &gt;ip6i&gt; is to be read, not vy/&gt;oV.
* Sc. for the sense of smell.
3 Sc. for the sense of taste.

To understand Aristotle s point of view as to metals here one
should read Timaeus 58 D to 59 B, and Theophr. ntpi Xi ^uv, I v
p.i&gt;&lt;i)v TO. ptv t(TTiv vS(nos t Tii d( yfjs vdaros pev TCI p.fra\-
apyvpot KU\ xpv&vs KU\ ruXXti. Cf. Theophr. de Cans. PI.

CHAPTER V 443 a

because it is without taste, but bronze and iron are odorous ;
and when the [sapid] moisture l has been burnt out of them,
their slag is, in all cases, less odorous [than the metals
themselves]. Silver and tin are more odorous than the one
class of metals, less so than the other, inasmuch as they are
watery 2 [to a greater degree than the former, to a less degree 20
than the latter].

Some writers look upon Finn id exhalation, which is a com
pound of Earth and Air, as the essence of Odour. [Indeed
all are inclined to rush to this theory of Odour. 3 ] Heraclitus
implied his adherence to it when he declared 4 that if all exist
ing things were turned into Smoke, the nose would be the
organ to discern them with. All 5 writers incline to refer odour
to this cause [sc. exhalation of some sort], but some regard it 25
as aqueous, others as fumid, exhalation ; while others, again,
hold it to be either. Aqueous exhalation is merely a form of
moisture, but fumid exhalation is, as already remarked, com
posed of Air and Earth. The former when condensed turns
into water ; the latter, into a particular species of earth. Now,
it is unlikely that odour is either of these. For vaporous 3
exhalation consists of mere water [which, being tasteless, is
inodorous] ; and fumid exhalation cannot occur in water at

vi. 3. 2. Metals belong to what Plato calls TO \VTOV ytvos TOV \&lt;8aTos ; the
water (of rivers, &c.) to TO vypw. We must remember that water (the
&lt;jToix(ir&gt;v) is inodorous and tasteless : that therefore the substance into
which it enters is likewise inodorous and tasteless, according to the pro-
portion of such water in it, and so with yfj. We must carefully distinguish
the v8a&gt;p and yy as elements from the common earth and water, which are
mixtures. Cf. av nr] TI f/iyvvfttvov noirj 443* II.

1 TO vypov : sc. TO tyxi ^nv : all developed xvpos has TO vypov for its vehicle,
but \vp )s (i. e. TO cyxvpov frpov) is the base of 0070} : hence the result here
mentioned. For when the vypov is burnt away, the fyx^/iov frpnv has
nothing to wash in. Cf. 442* 29.

vo&lt;iT(i)8^ is short for rwv fj.tv p.n\\nv TMV ft TJTTOV u&iTcoSij. They are more
odorous than e.g. gold, because they have more common [or less ele
mental ] water in their composition than this, less odorous than bronze
and iron, for they contain less common [or more elemental ] water.

3 an ...oo-fi^f being contradictory of what precedes ard follows is
rightly bracketed by Biehl after Thurot. The text is still astray, as Christ s
(e/ri ToCro) b 25 gives an unsupported use of e nufrfptivrtn.

4 The OTI is certainly spurious. Cf. the on of Thucydides iv. 37 (yvovt
. . . ort . . . dtacpduptjaofjLtvois) which has lately been given up on the
evidence of papyri, and the anacoluthia cured. Cf. Oxyr. Pap. 16 (in
JJodleian). For a similar o&gt;? . . . on cf. 454 a 15-16.

3 The apodosis to eVet begins with uAX a 2q.

443a SENSU

all, though, as has been before stated, aquatic creatures also
have the sense of smell.

443 b Again, the exhalation theory of odour is analogous to the
theory of emanations. If, therefore, the latter is untenable,
so, too, is the former.

It is clearly conceivable that the Moist, whether in air (for
air, too, is essentially moist) or in water, should imbibe the in-
5 fluence of, and have effects wrought in it by, the Sapid Dryness.
Moreover, if the Dry produces in moist media, i.e. water 1 and
air, an effect as of something washed out in them, it is mani
fest that odours must be something analogous to savours.
Nay, indeed, this analogy is, in some instances, a fact [registered
in language] ; for odours as well as savours are spoken of as
\&lt;ipniigent, sweet, Jiarsh, astringent, rich [ = savoury^ ; and one
might regard fetid smells as analogous to bitter tastes ; which
explains why the former are offensive to inhalation as the latter
are to deglutition. It is clear, therefore, that Odour is in both
water and air what Savour is in water alone. This explains
1 5 why coldness and freezing render Savours dull, and abolish
odours altogether ; for cooling and freezing tend to annul the
kinetic heat which helps to fabricate sapidity. 2

There are two species of the Odorous. For the statement
of certain writers that the odorous is not divisible into species
is false ; it is so divisible. We must here define the sense in
which these species are to be admitted or denied.

One class of odours, then, is that which runs parallel, as has
jo been observed, to savours : to odours of this class their
pleasantness or unpleasantness belongs incidentally. For
owing to the fact that Savours are qualities of nutrient matter,
the odours connected with these [e. g. those of a certain food]
are agreeable as long as animals have an appetite for the food,
but they are not agreeable to them when sated and no longer
in want of it ; nor are they agreeable, cither, to those animals
that do not like the food itself which yields the odours.
25 Hence, as we observed, these odours are pleasant or unpleasant
incidentally, and the same reasoning explains why it is that
they are perceptible to all animals in common.

1 It seems necessary to read (as Thurot suggests) V T vdart after rroiet.

2 For explanation see above, chap. iv. 44i b 18.

CHAPTER V 443 b

The other class of odours consists of those agreeable l in
their essential nature, e. g. those of flowers. For these do
not in any degree stimulate animals to food, nor do they
contribute in any way to appetite ; their effect upon it, if any,
is rather the opposite. For the verse of Strattis ridiculing 3
Euripides-
Use not perfumery to flavour soup,
contains a truth.

Those who nowadays introduce such flavours into bever
ages deforce our sense of pleasure by habituating us to them. 444 a
until, from two distinct kinds of sensations combined, pleasure
arises as it might from one simple kind.

Of this species of odour man alone is sensible ; the other,
viz. that correlated with Tastes, is, as has been said before,
perceptible also to the lower animals. And odours of the 5
latter sort, since their pleasureableness depends upon taste,
are divided into as many species as there are different tastes ;
but we cannot go on to say this of the former kind of odour,
since its nature is agreeable or disagreeable per se. The reason
why the perception of such odours is peculiar to man is found
in the characteristic state of man s brain. For his brain is TO
naturally cold, and the blood which it contains in its vessels
is thin and pure but easily cooled (whence it happens that
the exhalation arising from food, being cooled by the coldness
of this region, produces unhealthy rheums) ; therefore it is
that odours of such a species have been generated for human
beings, as a safeguard to health. This is their sole function, 5
and that they perform it is evident. For food, whether dry or
moist, though sweet to taste, is often unwholesome ; whereas
the odour arising from what is fragrant, that odour which is
pleasant in its own right, is, so to say, always beneficial to
persons in any state of bodily health whatever.

For this reason, too, the perception of odour [in general] is
effected through respiration, not in all animals, but in man 20
and certain other sanguineous animals, e.g. quadrupeds, and
all that participate freely in the natural substance air ; because
when odours, on account of the lightness of the heat in them,

1 443 b 28-30. Aristotle is thinking only of agreeable smells, though he
should have thought of disagreeable ones also.

444 a r&gt;K SENSU

mount to the brain, the health of this region is thereby
promoted. For odour, as a power, is naturally heat-giving.
25 Thus 1 Nature has employed respiration for two purposes:
primarily for the relief thereby brought to the thorax,
secondarily for the inhalation of odour. For while an animal
is inhaling, odour moves in 2 through its nostrils, as it were
from a side-entrance.

But the perception of the second class of odours above
described [does not belong to all animals, but] is confined to
30 human beings, because man s brain is. in proportion to his
whole bulk, larger and moistcr than the brain of any other
animal. This is the reason of the further fact that man
alone, so to speak, among animals perceives and takes pleasure
in the odours of flowers and such things. For the heat and
stimulation set up by these odours are commensurate with the
444 b excess of moisture and coldness in his cerebral region. On all
the other animals which have lungs, Nature has bestowed their
due perception of one of the two kinds of odour [i.e. that con
nected with nutrition] through 3 the act of respiration, guarding
against the needless creation of two organs of sense ; for in the
fact that they respire the other animals have already sufficient
provision for their perception of the one species of odour
5 only, as human beings have for their perception of both.

But that creatures which do not respire have the olfactory
sense is evident. For fishes, and all insects as a class, have,
thanks to the species of odour correlated with nutrition,
a keen olfactory sense of their proper food from a distance,
10 even when they are very far away from it ; such is the case
with bees, and also with the class of small ants, which some
denominate knipes. Among marine animals, too, the murex
and many other similar animals have an acute perception of
their food by its odour.

It is not equalh* certain what the organ is whereby they so

is perceive. This question, of the organ whereby they perceive

odour, may well cause a difficulty, if we assume that smelling

. . . KiY;&lt;ru il) 25 28sliould perhapscome after &lt;mr$/70-if 444^7.

2 The middle entrance to the stage was (says Pollux) reserved for the
principal character. Here odour plays a subordinate part.

3 Thurot s dia TOV with nno^fdoxfv (for which he might quote 657* 7
(V yap iv/ nvarrvorjs r; m-rffijffis rot? r^ot tr p-vicrfjpas) has been adopted.

CHAPTER V

444 b

takes place in animals only while respiring (for that this is the
fact is manifest in all the animals which do respire), whereas
none of those just mentioned respires, and yet they have
the sense of smell unless, indeed, they have some other sense
not included in the ordinary five. This supposition is, however, 20
impossible. For any sense which perceives odour is a sense
of smell, and this they do perceive, though probably not in
the same way as creatures which respire, but when the latter
are respiring the current of breath removes something that is
laid like a lid upon the organ proper (which explains why
they do not perceive odours when not respiring) ; while in
creatures which do not respire this is always off: just as some 25
animals have eyelids on their eyes, and when these are not
raised they cannot see, whereas hard-eyed animals have no
lids, and consequently do not need, besides eyes, an agency to
raise the lids, but see straicrhtwav [without intermission!

o * L

from the actual moment l at which it is first possible for
them to do so [i. e. from the moment when an object first
comes within their field of vision].

Consistently with what has been said above, not one of the
lo\vcr animals shows repugnance to the odour of things
which are essentially ill-smelling, unless one of the latter is .&gt;o
positively pernicious. They are destroyed, however, by these
things, just as 1 human beings are ; 3 i.e. as human beings get
headaches from, and arc often asphyxiated by, the fumes of
charcoal, so the lower animals perish from the strong fumes
of brimstone and bituminous substances ; and it is owing to
experience of such effects that they shun these. For the 445 a
disagreeable odour in itself they care nothing whatever (though
the odours of many plants are essentially disagreeable), un
less, indeed, it has some effect upon the taste of their food.

1 The expression in the Greek of Hiehl s text is strange. It might also
be rendered In virtue of the mere possession of the faculty of seeing :
f| avTov TOV dwciTov oi/rof, sc. opiiv. But, lids or no lids, this would be so,
and with tiki s-, as here, it is more natural to make fV refer to the initial
moment of time. SwaTtw must agree with (I\Q\. govern) bpav understood,
the construction being i&gt;6vs avrov TOV (o^i/) dwaTov OITOS.

2 ojioiW, i. e. not by the odour proper but by the mephitis or gas.

3 The construction would be improved if *ac were transposed to before
Ka$u7Tfp b 3i, and if only a comma were read after 7ro\Xu&lt;af ^32, OVTMS
answering Kadantp. Then the *ai KT\. would be explanatory of the O/

So it has here been translated.

445 a DE SENSU

5 The senses making up an odd number, and an odd number
having always a middle unit, the sense of smell occupies in
itself as it were a middle position between the tactual senses,
i.e. Touch and Taste, and those which perceive through
a medium, i. e. Sight and Hearing. Hence the object of smell,
too. is an affection of nutrient substances (which fall within

10 the class of Tangibles), and is also an affection of the audible
and the visible ; whence it is that creatures have the sense
of smell both in air and water. Accordingly, the object of
smell is something common to both of these provinces, i. e. it
appertains both to the tangible on the one hand, and on the
other to the audible and translucent. 1 Hence the propriety
of the figure by which it has been described by us as an
immersion or washing of dryness in the Moist and Fluid. Such

IT then must be our account of the sense in which one is or is
not entitled to speak of the odorous as having species.

The theory held by certain of the Pythagoreans, that some
animals are nourished by odours alone, is unsound. For, in
the first place, we see that food must be composite, since the
bodies nourished by it are not simple. This explains why
waste matter is secreted from food, either within the organisms,

20 or, as in plants, outside them. But since 2 even water by itself
alone, that is, when unmixed, will not suffice for food for
anything which is to form a consistency must be corporeal ,
it is still much less conceivable that air should be so cor-
porealized [and thus fitted to be food]. But, besides this,
we see that all animals have a receptacle for food, from
which, when it has entered, the body absorbs it. Now, the

25 organ which perceives odour is in the head, and odour enters
with the inhalation of the breath ; so that it goes to the
respiratory region. It is plain, therefore, that odour, qua
odour, does not contribute to nutrition ; that, however, it is

t indicates that as above, a 9-10, the objects, so here the media
are referred to. In a 12 cirrrw and aKouo-ro) are virtually the media of Touch
(for there is a sense in which Touch has a medium) and Hearing, as
8ia(f)&lt;iv(~i is that of Seeing.

2 a 20. For crt 5 we should read ore! & , the apodosis to which begins ert
noXv a 22. fn\ ov&e ... en ?roXv TJTTOV frames the a fortiori argument.
No new point is introduced at a 22, but only the conclusion of the argument
begun by Trpwrov piv 445 a 17. To this Trpwroi/ pei&gt; the npos 8e TOVTOIS
a 23 corresponds.

CHAPTER V 445a

serviceable to health is equally plain, as well by immediate
perception as from the arguments above employed ; so that
odour is in relation to general health what savour is in the 3
province of nutrition and in relation to the bodies nourished.

This then must conclude our discussion of the several organs 445 b
of sense-perception.

CHAPTER VI

One might ask : if every body is infinitely divisible, are
its sensible qualities Colour, Savour, Odour, Sound, Weight, 5
Cold or Heat, [Heaviness or] Lightness, Hardness or Softness
also infinitely divisible? Or, is this impossible 1 ?

[One might well ask this question], because each of them is
productive of sense-perception, since, in fact, all derive their
name [of sensible qualities ] from the very circumstance of
their being able to stimulate this. Hence, [if this is so] both
our perception of them should likewise be divisible to infinity,
and every part of a body [however small] should be a perceptible 10
magnitude. For it is impossible, e.g., to see a thing which
is white but not of a certain magnitude.

Since 2 if it were not so, [if its sensible qualities were not
divisible, part passn with body], we might conceive a body
existing but having no colour, or weight, or any such quality ;
accordingly not perceptible at all. For these qualities are the
objects of sense-perception. On this supposition, every per
ceptible object should be regarded as composed not of
perceptible [but of imperceptible] parts. Yet it must [be really
composed of perceptible parts], since assuredly it does not i;
consist of mathematical [and therefore purely abstract and
non-sensible] quantities. Again, by what faculty should we
discern and cognize these [hypothetical real things without
sensible qualities] ? Is it by Reason ? But they are not
objects of Reason ; nor docs reason apprehend objects in space,

1 Biehl should have printed /} 5i mToi/ the second member of the
7ro/Mrt as a question.

2 b 7. Trotr/Tt/coj/ yap is continued by ct yap b 1 1. If (as Alex. 1 10, 7, \V.
thinks) the first part of the argument (ending p) Trnabv 5e) had concluded
for the negative, this second yap would be absurd.

445 b DE SENSU

except when it acts in conjunction with sense-perception. At
the same time, if this be the case [that there are magnitudes,
physically real, but without sensible quality], it seems to tell
in favour of the atomistic hypothesis ; for thus, indeed, [by
accepting this hypothesis], the question [with which this chapter
begins] might be solved [negatively]. Hut it is impossible [to

jo accept this hypothesis]. Our views on the subject of atoms
are to be found in our treatise on Movement. 1

The solution of these questions 2 will bring with it also the
answer to the question why the species of Colour, Taste, Sound,
and other sensible qualities are limited. For in all classes of
things lying between extremes the intermediates must be
limited. But contraries are extremes, and every object of

25 sense-perception involves contrariety: e.g. in Colour, White
x Black: in Savour, SweetxBittcr, and in all the other sensibles
also the contraries are extremes. Now, that which is continuous
is divisible into an infinite number of unequal parts, but into
a finite number of equal parts, while that which is not per sc
continuous is divisible into species which are finite in number.
Since then, the several sensible qualities of things are to be

; ,o reckoned as species, while continuity always subsists in these, 1 5
we must take account of the difference between the Potential
and the Actual. 4 It is owing to this difference that we do

1 See Phys. vi. 1-2 1231 !l 2i-232 a 25).

2 i. c. the two questions of the anoxia. Aristotle in the preceding
arguments has only (as Thurot observes) developed the affirmative side of
the dnopia, leaving the negative (?) ddvvarov) undeveloped. He has argued
directly for the affirmative in b 7-11 (TTOITJTIKOV . . . 5e), and indirectly in
b 1 1-20 ft yap . . . Kivijo-eats. There was no need to argue for the negative:
for common sense does not require to be convinced that we cannot see
or otherwise perceive the infinitesimally small. So we say, but this view
now Aristotle takes up and corrects, by his theory that we can do so,
potentially. There is no reason to suppose that Aristotle did argue here
for the negative side, and that a portion of the text has been lost.

h 30. rotTois, sc. TO IS 7r&lt;i6((Tiv ws ("idfCTii 1 . All alffBijTa fall under cither
T. &gt; crvi f\fs or TO pt} Ka6 ni To crvvf^f s. The latter is divisible into etdi? which
partake of its continuity (sc. of rj Kara &lt;n&gt;/ifc/3i7KM? &lt;rwe\(ia}. The TrdQrj,
being ("ify, also possess this continuity : but, if so, why are not infinite
simal ^fyfOi] alff6r]Tii perceived, their qualities having (in virtue of this
continuity 17 Kara avfj.) been also divided together with the substrate ? To
answer this question, it is necessary to refer to the distinction between
the potential and the actual.

4 He aims at showing (a) that the minute parts of a rrd^/tza (e.g.
a colour), when divided &lt;mi o-v^f^Kos with its substrate, may become
indeed imperceptible eW/rycia, but always (unless they perish with their

CHAPTER VI 446 a

not [actually] see its ten-thousandth part in a grain of millet. 446 a
although sight has embraced the whole grain within its scope ;
and it is owing to this, too, that the sound contained in
a quarter-tone escapes notice, and yet one hears the whole
strain, 1 inasmuch as it is a continuum ; but the interval
between the extreme sounds [that bound the quarter-tone]
escapes the ear [being only potentially audible, not actually].
So, in the case of other objects of sense, extremely small con
stituents are unnoticed ; because they are only potentially not 5
actually [perceptible, e. g.] visible, unless - when they have been
parted from the wholes. So the foot-length too exists potenti
ally 3 in the two-foot length, but actually only when it has been
separated from the whole. But objective increments so small
as those above might well, if separated from their totals,
[instead of achieving actual existence] be dissolved in their
environments, like a drop of sapid moisture poured out into
the sea. But even if this were not so [sc. with the objective
magnitude], still, since the [subjective] increment of sense- 10

substrate, like a drop in the ocean) remain perceptible (as the particle to
which each part cleaves ismo^rovjfiiWi^ei ;and()that when, by aggregation
of particles or otherwise, these potential perceptibles again become actual,
their flfy reappear limited as before : never having been really changed in
quality, and therefore never multiplied, for the d8rj as such have not been
divided. To this b 23-30 (TTIIV . . . rovrois) is prefatory.

1 fie Xof, see Chappell, p. 87 : we must not here think of a melody, or a series
of notes, in a scale but of the continuous raising or lowering (aTroruoru-) of
the tone of a voice or string. The fi/frrtf (here -= quarter tone) was the
conventional unit of measurement. It is itself an interval, but so small
that the parts of which it consists are not distinguishable by the ear.
TO rov p. Trpof rots (&lt;r% Vovs 00. = the interval consisting of the difvis.

2 Reading (with EMY) /ur) \ojp\s /.

3 He wishes to remove a possible ground of misunderstanding. The foot-
length too is, like these small parts, only potentially existent while in the
two-foot length: but, unlike them, when separated it is (supply vnupxa, not
(vvndpxft) then first actually existent, while these may not even then be
actually existent, but may be dissolved, &c. But Aristotle s present point
(introduced by ov ^v &lt;i\X ) is that magnitudes stand on a different footing
from Trufl;;, and must be distinguished in the mV0/r&lt;i (which are both). The
mere vrrfpo^ aiadqcrcux has at no time any existence except as in a whole,
and so its object a correspondingly small rra^/za mffGrjrov actually exists
only in a substrate. It has not, like a magnitude (e. g. i; 7ro&lt;Wu), a
separate existence. But unless the substrate of it perishes, it is always
potentially perceptible ; and when the small parts are reaggregated, it
will become actually perceptible again in the total. There is great pro
bability in Prof. Bywater s emendation dtaipcdetVi? (sc. rfj fiuroSi). 17 nodiaiu
is here the unit ; and not this but the Sinovs is what really requires bisection.
To make fii(p*0ero-u = separated from = xa&gt;pt&lt;r0flo-u, is not quite satisfactory.

446 a

SENSU

perception is not perceptible l in itself, nor capable of separate
existence (since it exists only potentially in the more distinctly
perceivable whole of sense-perception), so neither will it be
possible to perceive [actually] its correlatively small object [sc.
its quantum of iru0j/ma or sensible quality] when separated from
the object-total. But yet this [small object] is to be considered
as perceptible: for it is both potentially so already [i.e. even
when alone], and destined to be actually 2 so when it has

15 become part of an aggregate. Thus, therefore, we have
shown that some magnitudes and their sensible qualities escape
notice, and the reason why they do so, as well as the manner
in which they are still perceptible or not perceptible in such
cases. Accordingly then, when these [minutely subdivided]
sensibles have once again become aggregated in a whole in
such a manner, relatively to one another, as to be perceptible
actually, and not merely because they are in the whole, but
even apart from it, it follows necessarily [from what has been
already stated 3 ] that their sensible qualities, whether colours

20 or tastes or sounds, are limited in number.

One might ask : do the objects of sense-perception, or the
movements proceeding from them ([since movements there
are,] in whichever of the two ways [viz. by emanations or by
stimulatory Kivrjo-is] sense-perception takes place), when these
are actualized for perception, always arrive first at a spatial
middle point [between the sense-organ and its object], as Odour
evidently does, and also Sound ? For he who is nearer [to the
odorous object] perceives the Odour sooner [than he who is

25 farther away], and the Sound of a stroke reaches us some time
after it has been struck. Is it thus also with an object seen,
and with Light ? Empedocles, for example, says that the Light
from the Sun arrives first in the intervening space before itcomes

1 There is no need to read ruVdqrucq if we think of the just noticeable
differences of sensation in modern * Psychophysik . Indeed alaOrjriK^
would not suit the sense here, but rather give rise to a tautology.

2 a 14. Magnitudes (like the foot-length) actually exist only when
apart from their wholes ; but niidrj have no such actual existence apart
from the ptytdrj in which they inhere : their actual existence only comes
about when the objects to which they belong are or become large enough to
be actually perceived. Hence there is no discrepancy between this place and
a 5-7 above, where aiad/?ra as magnitudes are spoken of.

J Sc. in 445 b 25-29. What they were potentially, in their latent state,
they show when actualized in an aggregate.

CHAPTER VI 446 a

to the eye, or reaches the Earth. This might plausibly seem
to be the case. For whatever is moved [in space], 1 is moved
from one place to another ; hence there must be a corre
sponding interval of time also in which it is moved from 30
the one place to the other. But any given time is divisible 446 b
into parts ; so that we should assume a time when the sun s
ray was not as yet seen, but was still travelling in the middle
space.

Now, even if it be true that the acts 2 of hearing and
1 having heard , and, generally, those of perceiving and
having perceived , form co-instantaneous wholes, 3 in other
words, that acts of sense-perception do not involve a process
of becoming, but have their being none the less without
involving such a process ; 4 yet, just as, [in the case of sound], 5
though the stroke which causes the Sound has been already
struck, the Sound is not yet at the ear (and 5 that this last is
a fact is further proved by the transformation which the letters
[viz. the consonants as heard] undergo [in the case of words
spoken from a distance], implying that the local movement
[involved in Sound] takes place in the space between [us and
the speaker] ; for the reason why [persons addressed from
a distance] do not succeed in catching the sense of what is
said is evidently that the air [sound wave] in moving towards
them has its form changed) [granting this, then, the
question arises] : is the same also true in the case of Colour
and Light? For certainly it is not true that the beholder 10
sees, and the object is seen, in virtue of some merely abstract
relationship between them, such as that between equals.
For if it were so, there would be no need [as there is] that
either [the beholder or the thing beheld] should occupy some

1 We must here bear in mind that there a~e other kinds of KIVIJO-IS
besides locomotion ($pa) ; sae below 446 b 28.

8 The fvfpyciat of these mo-drjo-ct? are instantaneous, yet their stimuli
move in a medium and take time. Is the case the same with Seeing, and
Light ? The apodosis to KU\ d b 2 begins below at ap* o^ b 9, but is
prefaced by the clause &&amp;lt;rnfp . . . CIKOJ} b 5-6, to which the OTO&gt; of b 9 refers.

3 annv &lt;3/ia = all at once. The smallest tvipycia of an mad^ais is
perfect in itself, anuv is best taken as ace. of inner object after the
verbs.

4 Cf. Phys. 6. 258^ 17, de Coelo, A. 280 27.

6 b 6 &i]\ol to b 9 atpa is parenthetical, and would have been placed in
a note by a modern writer.

446 b

DE SENSU

particular place ; since to the equalization of things their
being near to, or far from, one another makes no difference.

Now this [travelling through successive positions in the
medium] may with good reason take place as regards Sound

1 5 and Odour, for these, like [their media] Air and Water, are
continuous, but the movement 1 of both is divided into parts.
This too is the ground of the fact that the object which the
person first in order of proximity hears or smells is the same
as that which each subsequent person perceives, while yet it is
not 2 the same.

Some, indeed, raise a question also on these very points ;
they declare it impossible that one person should hear, or see,
or smell, the same object as another, urging the impossibility

20 of several persons in different places hearing or smelling [the
same object], for the one same thing would [thus] be divided
from itself. The answer is that, in perceiving the object which
first set up the motion e.g. a bell, or frankincense, or fire
all perceive an object numerically one and the same ; while, of
course, in the special object perceived they perceive an object
numerically different for each, though specifically the same for
all ; and this, accordingly, explains how it is that many persons
together see, or smell, or hear [the same object]. These things

25 [the odour or sound proper] are not bodies, but an affection or
process of some kind (otherwise this [viz. simultaneous per
ception of the one object by many] would not have been, as it
is, a fact of experience), though, on the other hand, 3 they each
imply a body [as their cause].

But [though sound and odour may travel,] with regard to
Light the case is different. For Light has its raison d etre in
the being 4 [not becoming] of something, but it is not a move-

1 All sensibles, therefore x//-o(/;or and oo&gt;t/}, are continuous quantities, cf.
449 a 20 seqq., capable of infinite subdivision. KIITJO-IS is essentially con
tinuous for Aristotle, that is it is divisible els t dtiuperd. The KiV^o-tr, or
stimulus-movement, of sound and odour propagates itself from part to
part of its medium, and so is divided among the parts successively
traversed by it.

3 The senses in which it is and is not are explained just below b 21-25.

3 oW (if correct) 446 b 26 somewhat alters the point of view given at
oure b 25.

4 For what follows cf. 4i8 b 2o-26. The reading TO&gt; emu = ( owing to the
fact that something is (not becomes) * With ro&gt; evelvm there would be
a distinct allusion to the irvpudt s rt, and the Tni/unam, of 439 a i9: TO

CHAPTER VI 446 b

ment. 1 And in general, even in qualitative change the case is
different from what it is in local movement [both being different
species of KiVrjcris]. Local movements, of course, 2 arrive first 30
at a point midway before reaching their goal (and Sound, it is
currently believed, is a movement of something locally moved),
but we cannot go on to assert this [arrival at a point midway] 447 a
in like :i manner of things which undergo qualitative change.
For this kind of change may conceivably take place in a thing
all at once, without one half of it being changed before the
other; e.g. it is conceivable that water should be frozen
simultaneously in every part. But still, for all 4 that, if the
body which is heated or frozen is extensive, 5 each part of it
successively is affected by the part contiguous, while the part
first changed in quality is so changed by the cause itself 5
which originates the change, and thus the change throughout
the whole need not take place coinstantaneously and all at
once. Tasting would have been as smelling now is, if we

would be nearly the same in sense. TO&gt; tlvai x yiyvtcrtiai : there
is no process involved. &lt;/&gt;o&gt;r (or 0umo&gt;uW) is, for Aristotle, not a KiVqatv
in any sense not even an dXXotaxn?. For even some dXXotoxmy may
travel, when the medium is extensive, as the illustrations show ; but
illumination does not.

1 The re . . . xai following ovdc is impossible to translate except
by a periphrasis, e.g. We must not even couple qualitative change
with local movement, as if they were similar in the respect under
discussion ; i.e. we must distinguish the obvious travelling of the one, and
the possible simultaneousness of the change in the other.

2 tv\uy&lt;as = as the name (/&gt;opi implies, or ex 77 termini. For the kinds
of Kivrjffts see 406* 12. Plato, I annen. 13 P., had distinguished XXoudat?
and (fiopd.

3 ovKfri o/iouo? : i. e. with the same universality as in the case of &lt;J)opu.
For some &lt;iXXoid&gt;o-eiv are instantaneous, though some are not. But for his
having denied that (/&gt;o&gt;? is a Ku^ais we might suppose him in the sequel to
mean that it belongs to the former class of Ki^&lt;r&lt;ir. However, the use of
ftvai precludes its being a KiV/jair, for emu x yiyvtadai, and therefore
X Kuetatfm in all its forms. So Alexander (p. 133, 10 \Vendland) under
stands Aristotle to mean. The reference to ciAXenW^ seems intended
to show that as this can be simultaneous so a fortiori can (^amo^o s-. which
is not a Kivrjats but depends on tivai. The attempt to regard Aristotle here
as having meant that fas is a special kind of dXXotWt? is benevolent, but
creates great confusion in the passage. Ziaja has tried to make out
that both here and \r\de Aninui the controversy with Empedocles is inter
polated and spurious. It is disappointing, to the Aristotelean that
is all.

4 ov p.t)v uXX . Though the simultaneity of riXXo/axrif is conceivable, it is
not necessary.

5 That this cannot affect the case of light appears from de Animn,

24-5.
PN rj

447 a DE SENSU

lived in a liquid medium, and perceived [the sapid object] at
a distance, before touching it.

Naturally, then, 1 the parts of media 2 between a sensory

10 organ and its object are not all affected at once except in the

case of Light [illumination], for the reason y above stated, and

also in the case of seeing, 4 for the same reason ; for Light

is an efficient cause of seeing.

CHAPTER VII

Another question respecting sense-perception is as follows:
assuming, as is natural, that of two [simultaneous] sensory
stimuli the stronger always tends to extrude the weaker [from
consciousness], is it conceivable or not that one should be
able 3 to discern t] two objects coinstantaneously in the same
5 individual time ? The above assumption explains why persons
do not perceive what is brought before their eyes, if they are
at the time deep in thought, or in a fright, or listening to
some loud noise. This assumption, then, must be made, and
also the following : that it is easier to discern each object of
sense when in its simple form than when an ingredient in

1 We should have expected S/} (marking, as usual, the conclusion) not
after et Aoywr. So Alexander quoting ( eGAoyws 1 5r}, $170-1 ), but Uiehl

does not notice this.

2 MI* = Tovrutv a. The genitive is partitive, depending on nuird. Alex

ander wrongly makes o&gt;i&gt; refer to ra mVdqrci. /ierai ToG ni(T0r)Tr}piov p.

ToG ala-0. Kn\ TO&gt;J/ utVflr/roof, a construction regular in Aristotle. Cf. 440* 18.
There should be a comma, not a full stop, after fiprjpevoi , on TOV opuv
as well as Vl roG &lt;/&gt;&&amp;gt;ror being under the regimen of n\r )i&gt;.
* That is, the reason given 446 b 27 (T tlvai n 0o&gt;v VrtV).

4 The effect of \P^ a on the &&amp;lt;/&gt;"* is the stimulus of seeing. Cf.
43O a l6 TO &lt;j)u&gt;s noid ra dvrd/jifi ovra ^pto/iarn (vcpyfia ovra. If one asks
how Aristotle would reconcile the proposition in 438^ 4 fj dta TOVTOV Ktvyvis
((TTiv r; Trotof CTu TO opav with the doctrine here, that light is not a Kivrjvts and
that xpupa does not locally move towards the eye (see 446 9), what is the
answer? Every Kivrjais is cv xi )tlv V ( 2 35 a IJ ) anc l e ver y XP l&gt;l/of s diaipfTM
(ibid.). How then does this nitons not travel in space? Viderit ipse
Aristotdcs.

5 The usual device for distinguishing dvixxrOai and tV& xfardm has been
adopted : but it is not easy to believe that the former should be sound
here. The two are never elsewhere so combined in Aristotle.

6 alvQavtadai here and generally in this chapter = discern : for the two
objects must be kept distinct in perception, while perceived coinstan-
taneously. mrr0q&lt;nr is a dvvapis KPITIKIJ.

CHAPTER VII 44?a

a mixture ; easier, for example, to discern wine when neat than
when blended, and so also honey, and [in other provinces]
a colour, or to discern the nctc 1 by itself alone, than [when
sounded with the hypatc\ in the octave ; the reason being -
that component elements tend to efface [the distinctive
characteristics of] one another. Such is the effect [on one
another] of all ingredients of which, when compounded, some
one thing is formed.

If, then, the greater stimulus tends to expel the less, it
necessarily follows that, when they concur, this greater should
itself too be less distinctly perceptible than if it were alone,
since the less by blending with it has removed some of its
individuality, according to our assumption that simple objects
are in all cases more distinctly perceptible.

Now, if the two stimuli are equal but heterogeneous, no -5
perception of either will ensue ; they will alike efface one
another s characteristics. But in such a case the perception of
either stimulus in its simple form is impossible. Hence either
there will then be no sense-perception at all, or there will
be a perception compounded of both and differing from either.
The latter is what actually seems to result from ingredients
blended- together, whatever may be the compound in which
they are so mixed.

Since, then, from some concurrent [sensory stimuli] a re
sultant object is produced, while from others no such resultant
is produced, and of the latter sort are those things which belong :,o
to different sense provinces (for only those things are capable of
mixture whose extremes are contraries, and no one compound 447 b
can be formed from, e. g., White and Sharp, except indirectly,
i.e. not as a concord is formed of Sharp and Grave); there
follows logically the impossibility of discerning such con
current stimuli coinstantaneously. For we must suppose that
the stimuli, when equal, tend alike to efface one another, since 5

1 Net? (= vc( ur)) and hyfiatc were respectively the highest and the
lowest notes in the octave. Although hyfatc is the lowest string [of the
lyre] in point of pitch and sound, it is the "highest" in the Greek sense,
which is as to length. Nete on the contrary is highest as to sound, but is
"lowest" when compared in length to any other. Chappell, History of
Music , p. 36. So D. H. Monro, Modes of Ancient Greek Music, p. 31.

- rSiv KfpavvvfjLtv&lt;i)v, i.e. blended in the manner referred to 444 3-12, or,
as we should perhaps say, chemically.

D 2

447 b

no one [form of stimulus] results from them ; while, if they
are unequal, the stronger alone is distinctly perceptible.

Again, 1 the soul would be more likely to perceive coinstan-
taneously, with one and the same sensory act, two things
in the same sensory province, such as the Grave and the
Sharp in sound ; for the sensory stimulation in this one
province is more likely to be unitemporal than that involving

10 two different provinces, as Sight and Hearing. But it is
impossible to perceive two objects coinstantaneously in the
same sensor}- act unless they have been mixed, [when, how
ever, they are no longer two], for their amalgamation involves
their becoming one, and the sensory act related to one object
is itself one, and such act, when one, is, of course, coin-
stantaneous with itself. Hence, when things are mixed we
of necessity perceive them coinstantaneously : for we perceive
them by a perception actually one. For an object numerically
one means that which is perceived by a perception actually
one, whereas an object specifically one means that which is

1 5 perceived by a sensory act potentially one [i.e. by an h cpycia
of the same sensuous faculty]. If then the actualized percep
tion is one, it will declare its data to be one object ; they
must, therefore, have been mixed. Accordingly, when they
have not been mixed, the actualized perceptions which perceive
them will be two ; but [if so, their perception must be successive
not coinstantaneous, for] in one and the same faculty the
perception actualized at any single moment is necessarily one,
only one stimulation or exertion of a single faculty being
possible at a single instant, and in the case supposed here the
faculty is one. It follows, therefore, that we cannot conceive

20 the possibility of perceiving two distinct objects coinstan
taneously with one and the same sense.

But if it be thus impossible to perceive coinstantaneously
two objects in the same province of sense if they are really
/a 6&gt;, manifestly it is still less conceivable that we should
perceive coinstantaneously objects in two different sensory
provinces, as White and Sweet. For it appears that when the

1 b 6. There should be a full stop after Troiet. A new paragraph then
begins, consequently eVei d( or TI seems required for ( . The apodosis
is prefaced by oi&gt;* fipn b 20, and really begun at hijXov em b 22.

CHAPTER VII

447 b

Soul predicates numerical unity it does so in virtue of nothing 25
else than such coinstantaneous perception [of one object, in
one instant, by one tvepyfLa] : while it predicates specific l
unity in virtue of [the unity of] the discriminating faculty of
sense together with [the unity of] the mode in which this
operates. What I mean, for example, is this ; the same sense
no doubt discerns White and Black, [which are hence generi-
cally one] though specifically different from one another, and
so, too, a faculty of sense self-identical, but different from the
former, discerns Sweet and Bitter : but while both these
faculties differ- from one another [and each from itself] in
their modes of discerning either of their respective contraries,
yet in perceiving the co-ordinates in each province they .^o
proceed in manners analogous to one another ; for instance,
as Taste perceives Sweet, so Sight perceives White ; and as 448 a
the latter perceives Black, so the former perceives Bitter. ;

Again, if the stimuli of sense derived from Contraries arc
themselves Contrary, and if Contraries cannot be conceived as
subsisting together in the same individual subject, and if
Contraries, e. g. Sweet and Bitter, come under one and the same
sense-faculty, we must conclude that it is impossible to discern 5
them coinstantancously. It is likewise clearly impossible so
to discern such homogeneous sensiblcs as are not [indeed]
Contrary, [but arc yet of different species]. For these are,
[in the sphere of colour, for instance], classed some with
White, others with Black, and so it is, likewise, in the other
provinces of sense ; for example, of savours, some are classed
with Sweet, and others with Bitter. Xor can one discern
the components in compounds coinstantaneously (for 4 these

1 For specific unity the (wrO^o-is is one and also its manner of operating
is one. For generic, only the nurdijms is one. We must not suppose that
Aristotle here confuses fi8os and yivo*. Cf. 449 18.

2 Each sense proceeds in a different mode in discerning its specifically
different objects ; &lt;Vf po&gt;s = trtpov rp6n&lt; v (sc. TOV Kpivfiv) cf. b 26. So also
two different senses proceed differently in this respect. Yet, notwith
standing this difference of mode, there is an analogy between the procedure
of ov/nv in perceiving white (the positive) and that of yfivis in perceiving
sweet (also positive). Cf. 431* 21 seqq. with Torstrik s commentary.

3 The completion of the argument begun here is found below, 448=*
13-19, hence it seems that this latter passage should be transferred to
follow 448* i.

4 Ad-yoi . . . TTfVTf is parenthetic. Hiehl s punctuation is wrong.

44 8 a DK SKNSU

10 arc ratios of Contraries, as e.g. the Octave or the Fifth);
unless, indeed, on condition of perceiving them as one. For
thus, and not otherwise, the ratios of the extreme sounds are
compounded into one ratio ; ] since we should have together
the ratio, on the one hand, of Many to Few or of Odd to Even,
on the other, that of Few to Many or of Even to Odd [and
these, to be perceived together, must be unified].

If, then, the sensibles denominated co-ordinates though in

indifferent provinces of sense (e.g. I call 2 Sweet and White
co-ordinates though in different provinces) stand yet more
aloof, and differ more, from one another than do any sensibles
in the same province; while Sweet differs from White 15 even
more than Black does from White, it is still less conceivable
that one should discern them [viz. sensibles in different sensory
provinces whether co-ordinates or not] coinstantaneously than
sensibles which are in the same province. Therefore, if co-
instantaneous perception of the latter be impossible, that of the
former is a fortiori impossible.

20 Some of the writers who treat of concords assert that the
sounds combined in these do not reach us simultaneously, but
only appear to do so, their real successiveness being unnoticed
whenever the time it involves is [so small as to be] imper
ceptible. Is this true or not ? One might perhaps, following
this up, go so far as to say that even the current opinion that
one sees and hears coinstantaneously is due merely to the fact
that the intervals of time [between the really successive per
ceptions of sight and hearing] escape observation. But this
can scarcely be true, nor is it conceivable that any portion of

j; time should be [absolutely] imperceptible, or that any should
be absolutely unnoticeable ; the truth being that it is possible 4
to perceive every instant of time. [This is so] ; because, if
it is inconceivable that a person should, while perceiving him-

1 The ratios involved in each of the great concords are reciprocal
quantities which multiplied together give unity. Thus in the Octave
\ x j = i ; in the Fourth -J x J = i ; in the Fifth 5 &gt; 3 = i. This same
operation combines the opposites Few x Many and Even x Odd.

2 Adopting Ka\&lt;i&gt;. Biehl s reading is untranslatable, except in a very
awkward fashion. z Vide Biehl s corrigenda.

1 To demonstrate this directly Aristotle might have again employed
his distinction between actuality and potentiality. But he chooses here
the method of reditctio ad absurditm.

CHAPTER VII 448a

self or aught else in a continuous time, be at any instant
unaware of his own existence ; while, 1 obviously, the assump
tion, that there is in the time-continuum a time so small as
to be absolutely imperceptible, carries the implication that
a person would, during such time, be unaware of his own
existence, as well as of his seeing and perceiving ; [this
assumption must be false].

Again, 2 if there is any magnitude, whether time or thing,
absolutely imperceptible owing to its smallness, it follows that 30
there would not be either a thing which one perceives, or a
time in which one perceives it, unless in the sense that in some
part of the given time he sees some part of the given thing. For 44^ b
[let there be a line a/3, divided into two parts at y, and let this
line represent a whole object and a corresponding whole time.
Now,] if one sees the whole line, and perceives it during
a time which forms one and the same continuum, only s in the
sense that he does so in some portion of this time, let us
suppose the part y/3, representing a time in which by sup- 5
position he was perceiving nothing, cut off from the whole.
Well, then, he perceives /// a certain part [viz. in the re
mainder] of the time, or perceives a part [viz. the remainder]
of the line, after the fashion in which one sees the whole earth
by seeing some given part of it, or walks in a year by walking
in some given part of the year. But [by hypothesis] in the part
/3y he perceives nothing : therefore, in fact, he is said to
perceive the whole object and during the whole time simply
because he perceives [some part of the object] in some part of
the time a/3. But 4 the same argument holds also in the case
of ay [the remainder, regarded in its turn as a whole] ; 10

1 a 26-30. t is to be supplied again with eWi a 28. This is Aristotle s
first argument. The second ("30 448 12) shows that, on the given
assumption, the perception of any whole would be impossible.

- a 30. Omit, as Hiehl suggests, Km ft ma-davfTm before ert. If it is
retained, with OUK before the preceding oto-^iverat, we must render and
does not perceive, although he perceives , for ov . . . KW ft could not (as if
it were ovde . . . ft) be translated not even perceives whether he perceives .

3 Read with Alexander (YV. 150, 13) OVTW TO&gt; ev TOUTOU nvi (of which
TOH vvv TOVTU&gt;V nvi of EM Y may be a corruption), and make apodosis begin
with d(f)Tjpf)(r6ia h 5.

4 Since it is not really possible in any concrete case to divide a whole
object and the time of its perception, as we have divided the line,
secluding, as if known, the part not perceived and the time in which no
perception takes place.

448^)

DK SENSU

for it will be found [on this theory of vacant times and
imperceptible magnitudes] that one always perceives only in
some part of a given whole time, and perceives only some
part of a whole magnitude, and that it is impossible to
perceive any [really] whole [object in a really whole time ;
a conclusion which is absurd, as it would logically annihilate
the perception of both Objects and Time].

Therefore we must conclude that all magnitudes are per
ceptible, but their actual dimensions do not present themselves
immediately in their presentation as objects. One sees the
sun, or a four-cubit rod at a distance, as a magnitude, but their
exact dimensions are not given in their visual presentation :
nay, at times an object of sight appears indivisible, but [vision,
like other special senses, is fallible respecting common sen-
sibles , c. g. magnitude, and] nothing that one sees is really
T indivisible. The reason of this has been previously explained. 1
It is clear then, from the above arguments, that no portion of
time is imperceptible.

But we must here return to the question proposed above for
discussion, whether it is possible or impossible to perceive
several objects coinstantaneously ; by coinstantaneously I
mean perceiving the several objects in a time one and in
divisible relatively to one another, i. e. indivisible in a sense
consistent with its being all a continuum. 2

1 Viz. in the passage 445 b 2-446* 20. 17 dt air in here is the atria of
the proposition anaiTa . . . onn fWiY b 12-13. In the passage referred to
Aristotle showed (&lt;?) that all aiaOrjrd were directly or indirectly magnitudes
and as such divisible in infinitum, and (b} that all magnitudes are
perceptible either actually or potentially, i. e. are nlv6qra. This implies
that the magnitudes of m o$f/r are not always determinate!) perceived,
for sometimes an alaB^rov is only potentially divisible, not actually. He
nowhere in the dc Sensu or anywhere else proves what he says, }&gt; 14
&lt;JXX ov . . . But it follows from what he says that pty(6ns is one of the
things about which cnraTwv rat men s perception misleads them.

1 h 18 seqq. Omit ov ra&gt; oVo/io) in !) 21 as a piece of dittography, and,
reading with Alexander Km OVTVS rm&gt;/ia&gt;, transfer the clause *ai orra&gt;r . . .
ai M^el (which in its traditional place makes no sense, whether riro/&lt;q&gt; be
referred to xpwtp as some take it, or to fjLopito \//v^^v, as others) to follow
TTpos XXr;Xn b 20, as an explanation of the term orr/iw xp vt p rrpus nXXr/Xo.
The text thus Incomes TO 6 apa Xeyco eV eVt *m aro/xcd xpov&lt;*&gt; npos JXXr/Xn.
K n OVTWS dropo) a&gt;s "navr\ ovn avi ()((t- No time is absolutely nrofioy for
Aristotle, and he lacks a word to express our individual , which is what
is here really meant by m-o/ios-. Hence the need of the explanation given
of it. By nro^to) npbs nXXqXn (cf. npbs aura 446* 17) is meant that the time
of discerning one of the two objects is identical with that of discerning

CHAPTER VII 44 8 b

First, 1 then, is it conceivable that one should perceive the 20
different things coinstantaneously, but each with a different
part of the Soul ? Or [must we object] that, 2 in the first place,
to begin with the objects of one and the same sense, e. g.
Sight, if we assume it [the Soul qua exercising Sight] to
perceive one colour with one part, and another colour 3 with
a different part, it will have a plurality of parts the same in
species, [as they must be,] since the objects which it thus
perceives fall within the same genus? 4 25

the other: that they are discerned together in the same individual time.
Keeping the vulgate reading, we may perhaps translate with another
part of the soul, and not with the indivisible part, though with a part
which is individual in the sens? that it is all continuous . But the notion
of the old commentators that here, and in 451* 26, the nparov aurBrir^piov
is referre-1 to is very questionable.

1 20. Trpeoroy pe* here corresponds to el 8( drj in 449* 5, where
Aristotle begins his own solution. The rrp&lt;uroi/ pev of h 22 corresponds
not to en b 29, but to ri fo of 449* 2, where the case of two different senses
actualized through different parts of soul is taken up and dismissed. In
b 24, after 7rXeiu&gt;, re should be kept (against Haumkcr), as this corresponds
to fn in b 29, where the second part of the argument against the hypothesis
of different parts of soul energizing in simultaneous discernment through
one sense is introduced. For ( n answering T* after an interval and with
changed point of view cf. Eucken,r& usu particularism apud Aristotelem,

p. 13.

- b 22. fj (Ar ov) on is strange. / on generally answers to rt or fim n .

3 b 24. xpw/za here merely = the object in general of each of the visual
parts of soul assumed to operate at once. We need not suppose refer
ence to colours of different species; XXou is not trtpnv, nor &lt;iiXXa&gt;, tTf pa&gt;.

4 b 25. See Alexander, pp. 157, 13-158, 16 (Wendland). The parts
of soul are, by this hypothesis, so many al&lt;r0qrf)pia of the same species,
since each has x/&gt;o&gt;pi for object. Their aiVtfijrd being of the same genus
makes the maOrjTrjpi-i to be of the same species - not genus. Hence the
Kai y&lt;ip. All atVdqrqptrr, as such (i. e. by the definition 424 :l 24, where even
Rodier incorrectly construes as if he had TO npStrnv, and finds mention of
the irp&Tov alff0f)Tt)piov) are of the same genus, but each nia-Orjr^ptov differs
in species from each other as it has a different genus of a&rdip-a for its
object. If two ruVdi/rqpta had the same geuus of mV^rd (or rather two
absolutely similar genera, e. g. if each had xp/i) for object, these
nltT0t]TT)pia would be ttdei rnvrd, as in the case suggested by the objection.
The point of the present objection lies in this unparcimonious multipli
cation of specifically identical parts of soul operating through each sense
when discerning several objects together. The point of the next objection
448* 28 en *rX. lies in the correlative multiplication of genera, and hence
of sciences that would follow. For each of the parts of soul would
be a faculty of sense with its own evnvria under it ; and thus under each
of our five senses would be not one science (as Aristotle teaches), but
as many sciences as there were genera or pairs of contraries : the absurdity
being that these pairs would be of the same kind, only repeated for each
of the different co-operant parts of soul. From the above it appears that
Biehl s adoption of mvra after ei8fi b 25, connecting the latter with TrXfuo
as dative of respect, is wrong. The Km yap 25 cannot be explained

448 b DK SKNSl

Should anyone |to illustrate how the Soul might have in it
two different parts specifically identical, each directed to a set
of aio-07/rci the same in genus with that to which the other is
directed] urge that, as there are two eyes, so there may be
in the Soul something analogous, [the reply is] that of the
eyes, doubtless, some one organ is formed, and hence their
actualization in perception is one ; but if this is so in the Soul,
then, in so far as what is formed of both [i. e. of any two
specifically identical parts as assumed] is one, the true perceiving
subject also will be one, [and the contradictory of the above
hypothesis (of different parts of Soul remaining engaged in simul
taneous perception with one sense) is what emerges from the
analogy] ; while if the two parts of Soul remain separate, the ana
logy of the eyes will fail, [for of these some one is really formed].
Furthermore, [on the supposition of the need of different
parts of Soul, co-operating in each sense, to discern different
30 objects coinstantaneously]. the senses will be each at the same
time one and many, as if we should say that they were each
a set of diverse sciences: for neither will an activity exist
without its proper faculty, nor without activity will there be
sensation. 1

449 a ]$ u t if the Soul does not, in the way suggested [i.e. with
different parts of itself acting simultaneously], perceive in one

without rnvra : and eiSfi and ye m have here their proper Aristotelean
significance. Read also, with Bitterauf, eV for the irn\iv of KMY.

1 Instead of one ai^drja-ts (e.g. ctyir) with its present variety of rWpyrtai,
i.e. scnsioHCs, we should have, in each, many mV^o-cir, related severally,
as so many diW/ictf, to different parts of soul. For the eW/jyciai under
each ai&lt;r6ri&lt;ns would no longer run up into one &vvapis, but be held apart
from one another, and imply each a Swapis (i. e. a faculty of perceiving
(vavTia) to itself. This would (as Alexander says) be as absurd as having
several sciences of the same theorem : for, since to each genus of
wV0jTtt a single fWripii? corresponds, on this hypothesis there would be
as many fnia-rij^H of the same kind as there were duvtifuis (faculties of
perceiving contraries) under (or in) each aw-flipm. For the hypothesis
being that, e.g. to see any two xpo&gt;/zr at once, two different parts of
soul should be employed, and this implying two faculties of colour-
perception exactly alike in their mVdi?r&lt;i. we should have, under each of
the two, the contraries White X Black. This would be totally needless,
except for the purpose of meeting the above psychological Cnropia, which
(as Aristotle shows 449 a 5 seqq.) can be solved otherwise, consistently
with the unity of each mo^r/my as a faculty, and of the soul itself as
a whole. By the proposed solution the unity not only of each sensory
faculty, and, in the sequel, of the soul itself, but also of each science
would IDC totally abolished.

CHAPTER VII 449 a

and the same individual time sensibles of the same sense, a
fortiori it is not thus that it perceives sensibles of different
senses. For it is, as already stated, more conceivable that
it should perceive a plurality of the former together in this
way than a plurality of heterogeneous objects.

If then, as is the fact, the Soul with one part perceives 5
Sweet, with another, White, either that 1 which results from these
is some one part, or else there is no such one resultant. But
there must be such an one, inasmuch as the general faculty of
sense-perception is one." What one object, then, does that one
faculty [when perceiving an object, e.g., as both White and
Sweet] perceive ? a [None] ; for assuredly no one object arises
by composition of these [heterogeneous objects, such as White
and Sweet]. We must conclude, therefore, that there is, as
has been stated before, some one faculty in the soul with which
the latter perceives all its percepts, though it perceives 4 each 10
different genus of sensibles through a different organ.

May we not, then, conceive this faculty which perceives
White and Sweet to be one qua indivisible [sc. qua combining
its different simultaneous objects] in its actualization, but
different, when it has become divisible [sc. qua distinguishing
its different simultaneous objects] in its actualization?

1 a 6. TO (K rovTtov : cf. 448 b 28 TO e apfyoiv, where also the form of
expression seems to put it beyond question that there is sowc resultant,
the only question being whether or not this resultant is one.

2 H 7. That the general faculty of perception is one has been already
shown in de Aniitm, 426** 8 29 ; where too (426 b 29-427* 16) it is ex
plained how a faculty numerically one can perceive opposites simul
taneously without losing its numerical oneness. The difficulty is solved
there as here by the doctrine that its numerical oneness is consistent with
plurality in the relations in which it manifests itself.

3 Jl 8. For what follows cf. 431* 17-431 ^ 2. The negative answer to the
question rtW oiWVm o &lt;Vo$- ; is all-important. If the conjoint percepts
here too (as in the cases stated above, e.g. 448* 10) formed a fuy/in, or
ran into one, simultaneous discernment of different objects could not be
made out at all. But while TO y\vnv and TO AeuKoV are held together
in the unity of TO mvdrjTiicbv navruv ( a 17), they are kept distinct in the
object. Just as in Trpciy^nTa (objects in space) such qualities are present
together, yet not confused or combined, so in the aia%&gt;ia, or immediate
impression of them (and also in the (/xii/Tno-^a, or subsequent representa
tion), they are present together, yet discerned as different by the unity
of the sensits communis to which they are simultaneously presented. In
this solution of the dnopia Aristotle confines himself to the more difficult
case (cf. 447 b 6, 22, 448* 13-19, 449 a 2-5), that of heterogeneous sensibles ;
which being settled, that of the homogeneous follows.

* a IO. After aXXo 5f KT\. supply aiarffavfrm, not alcrBavtaBai.

449 a DE SENSU

Or is what occurs in the case of the perceiving Soul con
ceivably analogous to what holds true in that of the things

15 themselves? For the same numerically one thing is white
and sweet, and has many other qualities, [while its numerical
oneness is not thereby prejudiced] if the fact is not that the
qualities are really separable in the object from one another,
but that the being of each quality is different [from that of
every other]. 1 In the same way therefore we must assume
also, in the case of the Soul, that the faculty of perception in
general is in itself numerically one and the same, but different
[differentiated] in its being ; different, that is to say, in genus
as regards some 2 of its objects, in species as regards others.
Hence too, we may conclude that one can perceive [numeri
cally different objects] coinstantaneously with a faculty which

20 is numerically one and the same, but not the same in its
relationship [sc. according as the objects to which it is directed
are not the same].

That every sensible object is a magnitude, and that nothing
which it is possible to perceive is indivisible, may be thus
shown. 3 The distance whence an object could not be seen

1 TO fivat (in full ro dvai XfuKoi or yXv*ei) here = being in relationship , i. e.
relationship of the objects to the faculty of perception. In a 18 Vu
(sc. mV0/7T{Au) = relationship of the faculty of perception to that of con
ception (according as the former perceives the different genera of atV#;ra) .
This explains the change from ro emu a 1 8 to Aoyw a 20. It is our conceiving
faculty that distinguishes ro ala-BrjTiKw irdvrwv in its relationships to its
different classes of objects, in which therefore it differs Xoy&&amp;gt; or notione :
it is r6 nlffSijTiKov irdvTtov that distinguishes \tvn6v and yAiw , which differ
in their mode of manifestation to sense, in each particular experience.
Hence Bonitz (Ind. Arist. 221* 56), is hardly right in identifying ro flvai
and Xoyof here.

2 For the construction of the genitive cf. 455* 21 ; supply nio-Qrjriiup here
on the analogy of ma-dyad there, ro uitrQijrutov is said to differ yevei or dbu
according as its alaBrffd differ yc wi or cifitt. This is remarkable. Should
not the second trcpov be e repair ? Then rwv fj-tv . . . rwv 6c would simply
explicate (Tfpw- the objects which are different some in genus, some in
species: the mV^nicoi/ would be different and its objects would be different.
This would make all clear.

3 a 21-31. This argument is from the first ad hominem. Any one who
believes (as Aristotle does not) in an mo-Brfrbv adutiptrov must believe that it
can be situated in an indivisible place, i. e. in a mathematical point. For
such a person (not, however, for Aristotle himself) the eo-^nroi/ *ai irpu&gt;mv
. . . odfv ( a 24), being identical, form such a place . But the alleged
nla-BrjTov ddiaipfrov, if supposed to be set in this place, will be found to
possess self-contradictory attributes ; e.g., if an object of vision, it will be
at the same time visible and invisible; which is impossible.

For Aristotle himself the npayrov KOI eo-^arov could not in reality run

CHAPTER VII 44ga

is indeterminate, but that whence it is visible is determinate.
We may say the same of the objects of Smelling and Hearing,
and of all sensibles not discerned by actual contact. Now,
there is, in the interval of distance, some extreme place, the
last from which the object is invisible, and the first from 25
which it is visible. This place, beyond which if the object be
one cannot perceive it, while if the object be on the hither
side one must perceive it, is, I presume, itself necessarily in
divisible. Therefore, if any sensible object be indivisible, such
object, if set in the said extreme place whence impercepti-
bility ends and perceptibility begins, will have to be both
visible and invisible at the same time ; but this is impossible. 30

This concludes our survey of the characteristics of the organs
of Sense-perception and their objects, whether regarded in
general or in relation to each organ. Of the remaining sub
jects, we must first consider that of memory and remembering.

into a point. Between visibility and non-visibility (so far as these depend
on distance) there are for him an infinite number of gradations, corre
sponding successively to successive possible removals of the object
through consecutive points in the 7nW/7/ia or line of distance. These
gradations towards invisibility represent so many degrees of potential
visibility.

DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

CHAPTKR I

449 b Wl&lt;: have, in the next place, to treat of Memory and Re
membering-, considering its nature, its cause, and the part of
r the soul to which this experience, as well as that of Recollect
ing, belongs. For the persons who possess a retentive memory
are not identical with those who excel in power of recollection ;
indeed, as a rule, slow people have a good memory, whereas
those who are quick-witted and clever ace better at recollecting.
We must first form a true conception of the objects of

10 memory, a point on which mistakes are often made. Now to re
member the future is not possible, but this is an object of opinion
or expectation (and indeed there might be actually a science of
expectation, like that of divination, in which some believe) ;
nor is there memory of the present, but only sense-perception.
For by the latter we know not the future, nor the past, but the

15 present only. But memory relates to the past. No one would
say that he remembers the present, when ] it is present, e. g.
a given white object at the moment when he sees it ; nor
would one say that he remembers an object of scientific con
templation at the moment when he is actually contemplating
it, and has it full before his mind ; of the former he would say
only that he perceives it, of the latter only that he knows it.
But when one has scientific knowledge, or perception, apart

20 from the actualizations of the faculty concerned, he thus re
members [that - the angles of a triangle are together equal to
two right angles]; as to the former, that he learned it, or thought
it out for himself, as to the latter, that he heard, or saw, it, or
had some such sensible experience of it. For whenever one
exercises the faculty of remembering, he must say within him
self, I formerly heard (or otherwise perceived) this, or I
formerly had this thought .

1 The next clause shows that here urf not on is the true reading.
- This is spurious.

CHAPTER I 44gb

Memory is, therefore, neither Perception nor Conception, but
a state ] or affection of one of these, conditioned by lapse of 25
time. As already observed, there is no such thing as memory
of the present while present, for the present is object only of
perception, and the future, of expectation, but the object of
memory is the past. All memory, therefore, implies a time
elapsed ; consequently only those animals which perceive time
remember, and the organ whereby they perceive time is also
that whereby they remember.

The subject 2 of presentation has been already considered ?,o
in our work de Animar Without a presentation intellectual
activity is impossible. For there is in such activity an incidental 450 a
affection identical with one also incidental in geometrical
demonstrations. For in the latter case, though we do not for
the purpose of the proof make any use of the fact that the
quantity in the triangle [for example, which we have drawn]
is determinate, we nevertheless draw it determinate in quantity.
So likewise when one exerts the intellect [e.g. on the subject
of first principles], although the object may not be quantitative. 5
one envisages it as quantitative, though he thinks it in abstrac
tion from quantity ; while, on the other hand, if the object of

1 His conjoined, as here, with nuOos can only have its usual Aristotelean
meaning of a mode of Troiorr;?, a state. The definition of memory implies
that in its genesis an maOrja-is (or im-oA^ty) has undergone something
(ntidos) owing to lapse of time since the fWpytui. The residue of the
m&lt;rdt](ns (or V^O\T)\ISIS) so affected has become a (f&gt;dvTa&lt;rpa (or set of KU r/rre ir
capable of yielding a ^nvrna-^a) related to the original nla-Sijais as its etVcor.
This settled state of relationship, to be explained and defined more
precisely in 451* 16, is what eiy here means. The qualification or
modification effected by lapse of time in the residue of the nta-drjaiy (or
vTT&lt;.)\rj\l/is} and resulting in the settled state, is denoted by the combined
words fir and ndOos. tr, of course, can, and does in a few places,
mean having . Cf. Aristotle, Met. 1022 4-12 and io22 h 15-21, where
this word is explained, as = (a] having , (b) didfaais KaS t/v fv J? KUKOK

/, *nt r) taff avro 77 npos XXo. Such a eis- as that
of pvrjuT) is described in the last words. It is a eis- *a# f)v pvrj^oviKwf
diaiccirat riy Trpos TO. /xf^oyeura, as ( ntarr ^rj is a (ts *a$ f)v didttftrai TIV
(niarTrjuoi iKcas rrpof ra fViaT^Ta. Honitz, Arist. Stud. \. p. 29, is mistaken
when he makes eir and iraQos here undistinguishable. eis adds the
notion of relativity to a past. This how a present state of mind can pick
up a past is the real epistemological crux , and Aristotle, with his usual
unerring insight, singles it out as what peculiarly demands explanation.

* For apod, to eVfi see 45o a 12 note. Most translators render (fravTnaia
imagination, but this, from the pyschologist s point of view, is liable to
objection.

Cf. 427 b 29 seqq.

450a DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

the intellect is essentially of the class of things that are
quantitative, but indeterminate, one envisages it as if it had
determinate quantity, though subsequently, in thinking it, he
abstracts from its determinatcness. Why we cannot exercise
the intellect on any object absolutely apart from the l con
tinuous, or apply it even to non-temporal - things unless in
10 connexion with time, :i is another question. Now, one must
cognize magnitude 4 and motion by means of the same faculty
by which one cognizes 5 time [i.e. by that which is also the
faculty of memory], and the presentation [involved in such
cognition] is an affection of the sensns commnnis ; whence this
follows, viz. that the cognition of these objects [magnitude,
motion, time] is effected by the [said scnsus communis, i. e.
the] primary faculty of perception. Accordingly, memory
[not merely of sensible, but] even of intellectual 7 objects
involves a presentation : hence we may conclude that it
belongs to the faculty of intelligence 8 only incidentally, while

1 roC is generic : it should not be struck out, as Freudenthal pro
poses.

2 The heavenly bodies and their eternal laws, as well as the non-
temporal (or eternal ) truths of mathematics. Cf. 22i b 3 seqq., ic&gt;44 b 7.

:; XP" VOS is essentially continuous, not an &lt;J/ufyto?, despite its definition

aS UpldfJLOS Klvi)&lt;Jt)S KT\.

* Cf. 232" 24 /iryedof 6 f(JT\v a-rruv avvf\s.

5 Freudenthal s translation Grosse und Bewegung muss aber der
vorstellen der Zeit vorstellt is, though correct in a sense, grammatically
difficult. Besides what is the meaning of saying &lt;x&gt; (&lt;wryKutoi&gt;) xpuvov
yvwpi^av ? Supply yvu&gt;pid. The point of the text is to identify the
faculty which perceives time (which has been shown to be that of
memory) with that which supplies the (^avrt.\ff^(na for the use of po/ycn?.
This is done by identifying both with that which perceives Ku/iju-iy in
general- the empirical type and basis of continuity: for even time is
dpi6p.os Kivr}o-fOK, and partakes in its continuity (dpi0fju&gt;s here not implying
that time itself is an arithmetical number essentially discontinuous).
Freudenthal is astray in thinking ai Kivr^anv unintelligible except on his
view of the construction.

6 i) df pviinr) . . . (OTLv resumes, or sums up the result of, the protasis
commenced at end 449 30, and thus prefaces wore a 13, which com
mences the apodosis.

7 Since vor^-d involve $fTo&gt;umi, as shown 450* i-io, the memory of
them involves and depends upon the same ^nvrda^ara. For such ^vi)^i]
is the tts or n&lt;i6o&gt;- of i/oi/aiy (included under vnoX^is 449 24) when time
has elapsed, and the tvcpytia has ceased. Though the vorjrd may be
eternal, or at least non-temporal, the faculty which perceives time (TU
npSn-ov alo-Brfrnufo) is that which supplies their empirical basis, and there
fore the ground of remembering them.

8 Far the easiest correction of the voovpevoi of all MSS. is Prof. By-
water s (fitn)io .H fiVoi . Cf. 459* 8 oi df TOV fiinyooi /Wvou TO nuBos TOITO o

CHAPTER I 45oa

directly and essentially it belongs to the primary faculty of
sense-perception.

Hence not only human beings and the beings which possess 15
opinion or intelligence, but also certain other animals, possess
memory. If memory were a function of [pure] intellect, it
would not have been as it is an attribute of many of the lower
animals, but probably, in that case, no mortal beings l would
have had memory ; since, even as the case stands, it is not
an attribute of them all, just because all have not the faculty
of perceiving time. Whenever one actually remembers having
seen or heard, or learned, something, he includes in this act (as - o
we have already observed) the consciousness of formerly ; and
the distinction of former and latter is a distinction in time.

Accordingly, if asked, of which among the parts of the soul
memory is a function, we reply : manifestly of that part to
which presentation appertains ; and all objects capable of
being presented [viz. cuV0;ra] are immediately and properly
objects of memory, while those [viz. roijra] which necessarily
involve [but only involve] presentation are objects of memory ^5
incidentally.

One might ask how it is possible that though the affection
[the presentation] alone is present, and the [related] fact
absent, the latter that which is not present is remembered.
[This question arises], because it is clear that we must con
ceive that which is generated through sense-perception in the
sentient soul, and in the part of the body- which is its seat,
viz. that affection the state whereof we call memory to be
some such thing as a picture. The process of movement 3

fvv7ri&gt;iii{.i&gt;, where TOI" diniwoi /i Vou is used in answer to the ques
tion raised 458 b I in reference to f j/oiymcof-. TO faavneitrBm can include
Reason as well as reason///^.

1 Reading 6vr)Tu&gt;v, not ditynW as Biehl after Rassow. Memory is limited
to beings which have the sense of time (TO mo-^mcov), none of whom
possess pure intellect: so that if it were a purely intellectual function,
01 dQavnrm might have it, but 01 OvrjroL (or ra 6vt]Ta} could not.

2 It is an affection of soul and body conjointly, like all affections treated
of in the Paw a Naturalia. The clause TO ... emu is difficult, but may be
right. That thing, the e&lt;r of which is p.vfjp.1, is a (fxivrnn-nu 45 i a 15,
and p.vi)nr) itself is a fts- ) TTU&H- of an mardijais or vn-oX^is 1 449 b 25. What
then is the niWos here the eiy of which is ^vr^rj ? We must conclude it to
be the ^aPTaa/za (which in 45o a 10 we saw to be rrddos TTJS KOIVTJS mV$f;tta)r),
to be described later on as fi\d&gt;/ of its original. The word nddof here does
not mean an affection of the particular mvOrja-is or rrroX^if, as in 449^ 25,

450a DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

[sensory stimulation] involved in the act of perception stamps
in, as it were, a sort of impression of the percept, just as
45 b persons do who make an impression with a seal. 1 This
explains why, in those who are strongly moved owing to
passion, or time of life, no mnemonic impression is formed ;
just as no impression would be formed if the movement of the
seal were to impinge on running water ; while there are others
in whom, owing to the receiving surface- being frayed, as

5 happens to [the stucco on] old [chamber] walls, or owing to
the hardness of the receiving surface, the requisite impression
is not implanted at all. Hence both very young and very
old persons are defective in memory ; they are in a state of
flux, the former because of their growth, the latter, owing to
their decay. In like manner, also, both those who are too

10 quick and those who are too slow have bad memories. The
former arc too soft, 3 the latter too hard [in the texture of
their receiving organs], so that in the case of the former the
presented image [though imprinted] does not remain in the
soul, while on the latter it is not imprinted at all.

But then, if this truly describes what happens in the genesis
of memory, [the question stated above arises :] when one
remembers, is it this impressed affection that he remembers.
or is it the objective thing from which this was derived ? If
the former, it would follow that we remember nothing which

15 is absent ; if the latter, how is it possible that, though per
ceiving directly only the impression, we remember that absent
thing which we do not perceive? Granted that there is in
us something like an impression or picture, why should the
perception of the mere impression be memory of something
else, instead of being related to this impression alone ? For
when one actually remembers, this impression is what he

but an affection of the aiV^riKi} ^I X 7 ?- TO naPos is here, therefore, in
apposition to TO yiyvopfvov fita rrjs rX. 45^ ^9&gt; and TOIOVTOV olov fwyp. rt
is the whole predicate after tlvm.

1 This explanation of memory with the simile of the seal-impression is
taken almost literally from Plato, Theaetitus, 191 D.

2 Before ^r)x&lt;crdui supply TO oV^o/ino; from b 5. For the above inter
pretation of ^T]\f(T0m cf. Galen TIpoTpfnTiKos, 19 rot s roi^ovs . . . ypn(pms

3 vypdrepoi. TO vypov, ( the moist = the elemental quality which ex
plained softness in bodies ; just as TO rjpdv, the dry (a notion funda
mental also in TO o-K^rjpdi/) explained hardness.

CHAPTER I

450 b

contemplates, and this is what he perceives. Ho\v then does
he remember what is not present? One might as well sup
pose it possible also to see or hear that which is not present.
In reply, we suggest that this very thing is quite conceivable, -o
nay, actually occurs in experience. A picture 1 painted on
a panel is at once a picture and a likeness : that is, while one
and the same, it is both of these, although the being of both
is not the same, and one may contemplate it either as a picture,
or as a likeness. Just in the same way we have to conceive
that the mnemonic presentation within us is something which 25
by itself is merely an object of contemplation, while, in relation
to something else, it is also a presentation of that other thing.
In so far as it is regarded in itself, it is only an object of
contemplation, or a presentation ; but when considered as
relative to something else, e. g., as its likeness, it is also - a
mnemonic token. Hence, whenever the residual sensory
process 3 implied by it is actualized in consciousness, if the
soul perceives this in so far as it is something absolute, it
appears to occur as a mere thought or presentation ; but if
the soul perceives it qua related to something else, then,
just as when one contemplates the painting in the picture as
being a likeness, and without having [at the moment] seen ;o
the actual Koriskos, contemplates it as a likeness of Koriskos,
and in that case 4 the experience involved in this contempla-
tion of it [as relative] is different from what one has when he
contemplates it simply as a painted figure- [so in the case of
memory we have the analogous difference, for], of the objects

1 The apodosis to olov KT\. begins with OVTO&gt; b 24. &&amp;gt;&lt;&gt;&gt; here and below
= picture generally, not picture of animal . This use of the word is
as early as Kmpedocles (Karst. 3721, and Herod, iv. 88. To restrict the
meaning here to painted animals would spoil the illustration, since then
&lt;oi/ would be relative at once and from the first.

2 Freudenthal thinks the Km unmeaning ; but on the contrary it is
indispensable. The relative fyavrnvpa is as it were an (IK.WV (for this is
only a simile), and this is also a reminder . So in 45i a 2 on etVcov,
fj.i&gt;Tin&gt;)V(vfjL(i, because it is an ftVcoi/ it is a reminder .

3 Every such fyiivTacrpn depends for its possibility on a Kivrjaiv within the
organs, which persists as a survival or relic of the original perception.

4 The reading of Bekker rt . . . re (450 31-451* I) a rare mode of
conjunction might mark the parallelism between the cases. But KMY
have TO (i&gt; for (v rt in 45 i a i, and this has been translated.

6 TO (v is, by a sort of Attic apposition, subdivided into the TO ptv and
TO fie which follow.

K 2

45ia DK MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

in the soul, the one [the unrelated object] presents itself
simply as a thought, but the other [the related object], just
because, as in the painting, it is a likeness, presents itself as
a mnemonic token.

We can now understand why it is that sometimes, when we
have such processes, based on some former act of perception,
occurring in the soul, we do not know whether this really
5 implies our having had perceptions corresponding to them,
and we doubt whether the case is or is not one of memory.
But occasionally it happens that [while thus doubting] we get
a sudden idea and recollect that we heard or saw something
formerly. This [occurrence of the sudden idea ] happens
whenever, from contemplating a mental object as absolute,
one changes his point of view, and regards it as relative to
something else.

The opposite [sc. to the case of those who at first do not
recognize their phantasms as mnemonic] also occurs, as hap
pened in the cases of Antipheron of Oreus and others suffering
10 from mental derangement ; for they were accustomed to speak
of their mere phantasms as facts of their past experience, and
as if remembering them. This takes place whenever one
contemplates what is not a likeness as if it were a likeness.

Mnemonic exercises aim at preserving one s memory of
something by repeatedly reminding him of it ; which implies
nothing else [on the learner s part] than the frequent con
templation of something [viz. the mnemonic , whatever it may
be] as a likeness, and not as out of relation.
15 As regards the question, therefore, what memory or re
membering is, it has now been shown that it is the state of
a presentation, related as a likeness to that of which it is
a presentation ; and as to the question of which of the faculties
within us memory is a function, [it has been shown] that it
is a function of the primary faculty of sense-perception, i. e.
of that faculty whereby we perceive time.

45i a

CHAPTER II

Next comes the subject of Recollection, 1 in dealing with
which we must assume as fundamental the truths elicited 20
above in our introductory discussions.- For recollection is not
the recovery or acquisition :5 of memory ; since at the
instant when 4 one at first learns [a fact of science] or experi
ences [a particular fact of sense], he does not thereby * recover
a memory, inasmuch as none has preceded, nor does he acquire

1 In the first paragraph of this chapter Aristotle is occupied with
correcting what he thinks the imperfect views of /m}^ as awn/pm
(ii(T0T](rf(i)s, and of avdnvrjots as TO rf]v p,v^rji&gt; avairo\tlv t expressed in the
Philebits 34 A-H. There is no reference^ whatever to the metaphysical
reminiscence theory of the Mcno and P/iaedo, as Thurot thinks. See
note on 4$l b 6.

2 TO IS irixciptipaTucois Xuyuif. In translating this, the authority of Bonitz
(Index, 99 a 40) has been followed. The expression may, however, refer
to the current discussions and assumptions (e.g. in the Platonic school)
on the subject of memory. But appearances are in favour of Bonitz view
here. Cf. especially 449 b 15-29 where the notion of memory as implying
lapse of time is developed. On this implication too the notion of Re
collection rests. On this point the significance of yap a 20 turns. For

is not /nr;/^? Xf;&gt;^if just because the establishment of the (is or

7r$or, in which nvfip.*] consists, requires lapse of time ; while it is not
di&gt;u\Tj\lfis because before time has elapsed since the experience there

is no pvTipr) to be recovered, while after time has elapsed the pvi ipr) may
be revived by processes that are not dva/*nj&lt;rif by re-learning or re-
experiencing, instead of by an internal effort.

3 That dnifj.vt]ats is not X^t? /ii^firjv is argued, with reference to
a supposed initial moment of the pd&rjois or nndija-tf regarded as con
tinuous processes, in a 21-25 &lt;trav . . . ey-yiVmu [with a parenthetic hit
(ot/r dwiX. npoyiyoi fv) at the theory of dvdXrj^is] and with reference to the
final moment, when the pi#r/&lt;n? or TTU^O-.? is supposed to be perfected, in
(TI . . . iJLvrjfjLovtvu* 25-31. Next it is shown, 45i b 3 (m) to45l b 6 (tiKoXovdd) ,
that since ^vi)^ (or /n^orfi^u ) is possible without nvafju TjiTis, \f)\l/is /.u^/^v
again fails as a definition ; for dvufunjats always implies the recovery of an
interrupted iatr\pr\. Finally it is shown b 6-lo (ot-fif . . . d

that even j-aXrj\//if ^vrj^s is not an adequate definition of dvd
because one may recover i^vrj^rj by re-learning or re-experiencing (re-
perceiving, &c.). For two reasons then, this last and that given paren
thetically above, 451* 22 (oi&gt;6/zm yap TTpoyryoffi ), avap.i r](n&lt;: is not merely
&lt;ii&gt;a\T}\l/is /ifr;/^r;f. But the short parenthetical argument is used with
reference merely to the moment of the original experience (at which if
one does not acquire ^v^v, a fortiori he does not recover it), whereas
the argument 45i b 6-io is used with reference to the later period when
\ivr)w has now been established.

4 & 2i=fidOrj . . . 7r0r/, and a 23 tyyivT)Tui. We must attend to the
meaning of the aorists, which is carefully calculated here by the writer.

45ia DK MKMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

one ab initio. It is only at the instant when the aforesaid
state l or affection [of the cuo-0?;o-ts or VTTOATJV/UV ; see 449 b 24 )
is implanted in the soul that memory exists, and therefore
25 memory is not itself implanted concurrently with the con
tinuous implantation of the [original] 2 sensory experience.

Further: at the very individual and concluding :! instant
when first [the sensory experience or scientific knowledge] has
been completely implanted, there is then already 4 established
in the person affected the [sensory] affection, or the scientific 5
knowledge (if one ought to apply the term scientific know
ledge to the [mnemonic | state or affection ; and indeed one
may well remember, in the incidental sense, some of the

1 a 23. v) (t-ts Km TO rniQo: . Here, if we should not read //, we must take *m
= I). The mnemonic ir and irdQos here are not to be taken for the primary
experiences referred to in n 21, a 25, where the words TOTTPCOTOI/ are used to
mark the difference. Hut ndflos is ambiguous, referring sometimes (as
in a 26) to the primary affection of the subject of a sensory experience,
sometimes (as in 449 * 25 ) to the mnemonic affection which this experience
itself undergoes by lapse of time. In a 24 it has both meanings.

2 Therefore the disputed definitions fail with regard to the initial stage,
not only as to recollection, but even as to memory, of which also they
betray a misconception.

:&lt; Kampe s explanation (after Themistius) of TO&gt; TO/M&&amp;gt; Km ea-^ara) here
as das letzte und untheilbare Sinncsorgan is unsatisfactory. c (rx&lt;ira&gt;
denotes the limit of the completion of the experience- the nndrja-tt or
m i6t1(Tis. [\Ve agree with Kampe and Themistius (241. 29, ed. Spengel),
and would translate : * has come to be present in the individual and
ultimate organ. Edd.)

4 There is no tautology, and, if there were, Freudenthal s TI before ro&gt;,
a 25, would not stave it off. The point of the proposition mt iyytyovt, TOT
twndpxti n^n lies in the contrasted meaning of these two verbs : when
once the irdffos or firtorijur) has been perfectly engendered, thereupon or
therein the foundation of memory the immanence of the nddos or iirurriiiu\
is laid. The ird&os or c/rforr}/i&gt;7 does not pass away, but abides as an
npx i in the mind, which is the force of fVvir&lt;i/),\-ei. But memory itself is
not there yet : time must first elapse.

To understand this passage we have to bear in mind Aristotle s definition
of fjfir) as = T&lt;J cyyus TOU irapovros vvv nro/^ioi p.tpos roO fu\\ovros \povov
222 7. Thus fjSr) here denotes the very moment of the went referred
to in TO) riro/Lto) KUI f&lt;r\ur&lt;p OT( TO irpurrnv fyytyovt, regarded as first in
a coming scries of moments. The experience occurs in the first moment,
and in that and all succeeding moments the ntWus or fViorr/fjij is found to
be established, ro/uf vrrd^oj is balanced by TO fit ^.v^ovtvfiv u 2^: theiratfoj
or cjrt&lt;rri]pt) to which memory shall refer is now indeed implanted, but no
time has yet passed. Before TO /ii/fj/joj^iW is possible, time must have
passed. This irdffos is not the irdBos (or Zit) in which memory has been said
to consist. The latter is a Trade* ^/"the ma-drja-is or vrroX^ir, i. e. a modifica
tion in their residual Ku-qo-m caused by lapse of time. The former is the
original sensory experience to which memory shall refer.

fl Sc. in the person who has learned it : after ttrtari^ understand TW

CHAPTER II 45ia

things [i.e. ra Ka66\ov] which are properly objects of scientific 1
knowledge) ; but to remember, strictly and properly speak
ing, 2 is an activity which will not be immanent until the 3
original experience has undergone lapse of time. For one
remembers now what one saw or otherwise experienced
formerly ; the moment of the original experience and the
moment of the memory of it are never identical.

Again, 3 [even when time has elapsed, and one can be said
really to have acquired memory, this is not necessarily
recollection, for firstly] it is obviously possible, without any 45 1 b
present act of recollection, to remember as a continued
consequence of the original perception or other experience ;
whereas 4 when [after an interval of obliviscence] one recovers
some scientific knowledge which he had before, or some per
ception, or some other experience, the state of which we above
declared to be memory, it is then, and then only, that this
recovery may amount to a recollection of any of the things
aforesaid. But, [though, as observed above, remembering does 5
not necessarily imply recollecting], recollecting always implies

is a %is imoSdKTtKr) H39 b 31. In the sense in which it
is spoken of as 6Wa/*fi (Met. ic8/ :i 15, cf. Locke s Habitual Know
ledge ) it can subsist in the mnemonic &lt;tr ; for we may remember*
T KaOt iXov HUTU (rvupttfirjKO ;, as explained 450* 23-25. "Ei-m : some of the
objects of e/iio-riy/iq ; for this word was (like our science ) extended to
include even ^ TIUKTIKJ;, and many other matters of the sort that can be
direct objects of memory. The question here raised about the term
e7ri&lt;jTJ/p; being used of a (is shows how far tis is from meaning a
having in this connexion.

2 K&lt;it) Hiiro, i.e. as distinct from TO Kara &lt;r. fii/., and as opposed to TO
(vvirapx (iv iriidof r) Tt]v fTrtar^ftijv. Incidental as well as direct
remembering involves time-lapse.

3 Freudenthal is right in interpreting this argument as directed against
the proposition atfupvijais = pvrju^s \f)\j/is ; for a person may have
acquired /Apq/ii? but not parted with it, and oVo/u/qo-i? implies always at
least an interruption of /iv^i?, though it implies more, as will be shown.
Freudenthal wrongly thinks that Aristotle will not allow dya/^o-ii- to involve
l*vi jp.t)s iii&gt;d\r)\lsis at all only a recovering of the en-iorr}/^ or awQrjcris. But
the expression fivrifajsavaX^is was part of the traditional definition: emiXa/i-
ftavtiv nvi)wv is used by Plato, Phil. 34 B, and Aristotle has no objection
to it as a definition, provided it be qualified by reference to the TrXeuoi/
apxn of b 10 below. In accepting the expression, thus qualified, he may be
following the f iri\(ipr]^aTiKo\ Aoyoi, in the sense referred to above in the note
on these words as alternative to that in which they are taken by Bonitz.

4 There should not be a full stop, but only a colon, or comma, before
u\\(i 45 i b 2. Just before, /n/^/noi/f utti/ = /ipq/joyci ofra ditnt\(ii&gt;, which is
contrasted here with TO ava\ap.f3dvftv r/)v f Tno-rr//^ */ ri)v (ua-dr^mf.

Ib DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

remembering, 1 and actualized memory follows [ upon the
successful act of recollecting].

But secondly, 2 even the assertion that recollection is the
reinstatement in consciousness of something which was there
before but had disappeared requires qualification. This
assertion may be true, but it may also be false ; for the same
person may twice learn [from some teacher], or twice discover
[i. e. excogitate], the same fact. Accordingly, the act of re
collecting ought [ in its definition] to be distinguished from
these acts ; i. e. recollecting must imply in those who recollect
the presence of some spring { over and above that from which
they originally learn.

TO Acts of recollection, as they occur in experience, are due
to the fact that one movement has by nature another that
succeeds it in regular order.

If this order be necessary, whenever a subject experiences
the former 4 of two movements thus connected, it will [invari
ably] experience the latter ; if, however, the order be not
necessary, but customary, only in the majority of cases will
the subject experience the latter of the two movements. But
it is a fact that there are some movements, by a single experi
ence of which persons take the impress of custom more deeply

15 than they do by experiencing others many times; hence r&gt;

1 The text is correct : TO fjLvijfjLovtvfiv is a necessary incident of TO
ura/u/u qadat, and the latter is accompanied by and implies a reinstate
ment of 17 pvrinr). This last is both the condition and the consequence
of avap.vr}iris i the condition, for if there be no (potential) pv^i], nvap. is
impossible (cf. 452* 7 ovxc n pfnvryrm) ; the consequence, for &lt;w//zi . results
in the reviviscence of (actual) /u/r}^. A man has not the power to
recollect what is not in his mind, said Dr. Johnson, but when a thing is
in his mind he may remember it.

- Even here Plato had been beforehand with Aristotle. Cf. Phil. 34 B
OTUV [7; ^I X }] roAc&lt;racrn fiv^ijv . . . avdts ravrrjv avarroXfjay nti\iv nvn] cv
fuvrfjj where both the interval of obliviscence and the internal activity
are required for the definition of Recollection. So in the Meno 85 i&gt;

rraw yt. Both in Meno 81 D and PAaedo 73 n recollection is conceived
as a tfirriais. Aristotle is superior to Plato chiefly in the detail with
which he examines the process of &lt;wi/ii//;o-tr.

For the meaning of rrXfiW upxn see below, 452" 4- 7. and 452 a 11-12.

4 Grammar and sense require eKtivrjv here.

5 How can one reason (816) from cWow to *Wi ? Try how one will,
one cannot, with Biehl s text, avoid logical absurdity and confusion.
Read tvias (sc. Kivi](Tfi$) b 14, nXXay }&gt; 15, and eYf/xi l) 16. Freudenthal in
recommending also Kivovpfvns b 15 seems to miss seeing that the

CHAPTER II 4 ,

upon seeing some things but once we remember them better
than others which we may have seen frequently.

Whenever, therefore, we are recollecting, we are experi
encing 1 certain [read ra-ds with Freudenthal] of the antecedent
movements until finally we experience the one after which
customarily comes that which we seek. This explains why
we hunt up the series 2 [of Kii^o-ei?], having started in thought
either from a present intuition or some other, and from some
thing either similar, or contrary, to what we seek, or else from
that which is contiguous 3 with it. Such is the empirical ground 20
of the process of recollection ; for the mnemonic movements
involved in these starting-points are in some cases identical, in
others, again, simultaneous, with those of the idea we seek, while
in others they comprise a portion of them, so that the remnant
which one experienced after that portion [and which still
requires to be excited in memory] is comparatively small.

Thus, then, it is that persons seek to recollect, and thus, too,
it is that they recollect even without the effort 4 of seeking to

construction is Kipcirat TIS itivrjo iv nva not Kivtlmt nivrjaif. The
TroXXa and Kivtja-ii Kivqo-iv below 452* 9, and the o-a&gt;fuiT&lt;/cof n Kivd 453 :i
22 stand o i a different footing ; for there the person is supposed to
be making active voluntary efforts to stir up or arouse some idea.
Besides, the expression m Ktvrjfrfis f6i(ovrui would be absurd : it is the
persons that (6iovrai.

What Aristotle is thinking of here is the greater impressiveness of
some experiences as compared with others : he is not alluding to the
greater impressibility of some persons as compared with others ; but the
idea that he must also have referred to the latter point is possibly what
first corrupted the text. The use of nvypovcvopcv, however, the first
person standing for all persons- shows that the latter point was not
intended here.

1 Here Kitfovpcffa includes both the active and the passive sense. This
twofold aspect is referred to below b 22-23 C r l ro ^ l " r(s K(li M Cirovvrts.

2 For the meaning of TO e 0cr/r (which is not a continuum) see Phys.
231* 22, 259* 16.

3 i. e. as coefficient in one total idea. The association between the
parts and the whole would be the typical form of all association. This
fundamental law of all association of ideas might be called the law of
totality. See Hoffding, Psych, p. 159, E. T. Such seems the force of
the compound avvfyyvs in h 20. By TO vvv of course is meant not an
abstract instant of time, but the concrete filling of an instant. \Ve may
begin by calling to mind what we were thinking of at any moment,
or start from what we are thinking of now. Thus the time-factor in
recollection is put in the forefront here, though not fully dealt with till
45 2b 7-453*4-

* For such non-voluntary avapvrjvis cf. infra 453 a 17-18. The train of
ideas is part of the mechanism of nature, which the will avails itself of,
but which may lead to recollection without an effort of will.

45lb DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

do so, viz. when the movement implied in recollection has
25 supervened on some other which is its condition. For, as a
rule, it is when antecedent movements of the classes here
described have first been excited, that the particular movement
implied in recollection follows. We need not examine a serie-s
of which the beginning and end lie far apart, in order to see
ho\v [by recollection] we remember l ; one in which they lie
near one another- will serve equally well. For it is clear that
the method is in each case the same, that is, one hunts
up the objective series, without any previous search or previous
recollection. For [there is, besides the natural order, viz. the
order of the Tr/^ay/jiara, or events of the primary experience,
also a customary order, and] by the effect of custom the
mnemonic movements tend to succeed one another in a certain
30 order. 3 Accordingly, therefore, when one wishes to recollect,
this is what he will do : he will try to obtain a beginning of
movement whose sequel shall be the movement which he
desires to reawaken. This explains why attempts at re
collection succeed soonest and best when they start from a
452 a beginning [of some objective series]. For, in order of succession,
the mnemonic movements are to one another as the objective
facts [from which they are derived]. Accordingly, things
arranged in a fixed order, like the successive demonstrations
in geometry, are easy to remember [or recollect], 4 while badly r&gt;
arranged subjects are remembered with difficulty.

Recollecting differs also in this respect from relcarning,

5 that one who recollects will be able, somehow, to move,

solely by his own effort, to the term next after the starting-

1 All uvapvrjais if successful ends in /W^i/ actual memory. Hence it
is idle to say that pt^adai is confused with dyaiu/btpqajcco-doi here or in

a TU ffvvcyyvs, i.e. a train of ideas whose extremes the mnemonic dpx&gt;i
and l] Kwrjais fnfivT) 1 are not far apart from one another \ TU noppo) just
above is the opposite.

There must not have been previous (rjTqo-ts or (wi^i^o-is-, for previous
(t jTrjais or dvdpivi](Tis would have tended to establish tti^s, and to
prejudice, so far, our efforts to discover the natural rpinrot of (ii/a/
with which Aristotle is here concerned.

4 The distinction of n^nn and avupvqa-ts cannot be preserved in et
fiovfvra and such compounds.

TU 0&lt;u&gt;Xa here = T \v&r)v of 1409* 5, TU ^irpa nuvTa fjaHjpovtvovot /yt

CHAPTER II 452a

point. When one cannot do this of himself, but only by
external assistance, he no longer remembers [i. e. he has totally
forgotten, and therefore of course cannot recollect]. It often
happens that, though a person cannot recollect at the moment.
yet by seeking he can do so, and discovers what he seeks.
This he succeeds in doing by setting up many movements,
until finally he excites one of a kind which will have for its
sequel the fact he wishes to recollect. For remembering l I0
[which is the condicio sine qua non of recollecting] is the
existence, potentially, in the mind of a movement capable of
stimulating it to the desired movement, and this, as has been
said, in such a way that the person should be moved
[prompted to recollection] from within himself, i. e. in conse
quence of movements wholly contained within himself.

But one must get hold of a starting-point. This explains
why it is that persons are supposed to recollect sometimes
by starting from mnemonic loci. 2 The cause is that they pass
swiftly in thought from one point to another, e.g. from milk 5
to white, from white to mist :: , and thence to moist, from
which one remembers Autumn [the season of mists ], if this
be the season he is trying to recollect.

1 Freudenthal is quite wrong in thinking that we should read here
t, which indeed would rather require tvtpytlv than eYcipm in

what follows. See next note.

2 Cf. l63 b 28 ( Honiu Ind. gives a wrong reference) naQairtp yap (v T&&amp;gt;
LjLi&gt;r]fjL&lt;&gt;viKa) fju wuv of TOTTOI TfQtVTts (v6vs noioi/ffiv avru p.vrjfiov(v(iv. It was
a well-known fact, and the Simonidean mnemonic art, or art of topical
memory, was cultivated widely long before Aristotle s time, as well as ever
since. Cf. Xen. Symp. iv. 62 (with Schneider s note) ; Cic. de Orat. ii.
86-88; Auct. ad Herenn. iii. 16 to end; Quintil. lust. Or. xi. 2 (de
memoria) ; Plato, Hipp. Mai. 285, where Hippias who has TO nvrjuovutov
boasts of his power to repeat fifty names after hearing them only once.
Cf. also Aristotle himself de An. 427 b 19 &&amp;lt;rnc/j of tv mis pvijpovucois
fiBtfjifvoi Kal ftficoXorroiotfTef, and 458^ 2O oluv of 8oKovvT(s Kara TO p.vr)p.ovtKOv
7rapiiyyf\p.(i ri6((r6at TU jTpoftaXXopfva (where of &OKOVI&gt;T(S may be regarded
as giving the impression present to the sleepers minds). Why SOKOVJIV and
fi ioTf here, words which seem to express doubt of the pretensions of the
professors of the mnemonic art ? But on the whole it seems best not to
adopt Sir \V. Hamilton s oV fireman , very tempting as it is; for (&lt;) the
instances given here are not quite arovu, and (b) Aristotle habitually
speaks with caution and reserve, often usirg such words as suggest
hesitation even when he cannot really be in doubt. Freudenthal suggests
rdvuna for * WOT*, but this can hardly be ventured.

"* niyp, for Aristotle, is naturally and distinctively white : it is the im
mixture of this that causes the whiteness of snow and foam. See Prantl,
Arist. de Coloribits, p. 105. The history of the word in classical usage
from Homer onwards shows that it properly meant thick or misty air.

452a DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

It seems true in general that the middle point also among
all things is a good mnemonic starting-point from which to
reach any of them. For if one does not recollect before, he
will do so when he has come to this, or, if not, nothing can help
him ; as, e. g. if one were to have in mind the numerical l series

20 denoted by the symbols A. B, I", A, E, C,- I, H, O. For, if he
does not remember what he wants at E, 3 then at E he re
members 4 ; because from E movement in either direction
is possible, to A or to C. But, if it is not for one of these
that he is searching, he will remember [what he is searching
for] when he has come to f, if he is searching for H or I. 6
But if [it is] not [for H or I that he is searching, but for one
of the terms that remain], he will remember by going to A,
and so in all cases [in which one starts from a middle point].

25 The cause of one s sometimes recollecting and sometimes not,
though starting from the same point, is, that from the same
starting-point a movement can be made in several directions,
as, for instance, from l~ to I or to A. If, then, the mind has

1 Taking the series as numerical (see Smyly, 67. A . June, 1906), the only
alterations of MSS. readings are (a) the insertion of C after E, which is
easy; (b] the alteration of E to C in a 22, which is also easy; and (c] the
insertion of rov before O in a 20.

a For the use of this as a numerical symbol /// the time of Aristotle
there is evidence enough. The disappearance of numeral letters from
our texts is due to the rule by which the Byzantine and even earlier copyists
translated them into words.

3 If the text is not here dittographic, it may mean, if E itself be not
what he wants.

4 When he has come to E, the middle point, he will remember O ; i.e.
being at 5 he moves to 4, and by the proximity of these in thought
he gets 9. In Greek arithmetic in many cases the juxtaposition of
symbols implies addition. Thus at E (which it has to be observed he
does not ever abandon) he has also A, and so he has O. We may bring
the case under the rule of TO ai-vtyyvs 45 i b 18-20. What he would get if he
moved upwards, viz. EC = 1 1, is not mentioned, as thisliesoutsidethe series.

5 When he has come to F (still, of course, keeping hold of E) he
similarly obtains H, i. e. 5 + 3, or else he obtains I by TO (vavriov (cf.
45i b 19) thus: in the series 3, 5, 7, of which 5 is ro /zen-or, either taxnrov
with TO fjL(o-ov tends to bring to mind the other fo^m-ov. For this see N. E.
iio6 a 33 seqq. Thus it is that from F E here he gets (or may get) I.
All the cases here given come, in fact, under two of the rules mentioned as
governing recollection in 45i ]) 18 seqq.

From F he may go to I by fvavTunys as just explained, to A by
proximity in the series (TO a-vveyyvs).

CHAPTER II 452a

not [when starting from E] moved in an old path 1 [i.e. one
in which it moved when first having the objective experience,
and that, therefore, in which un- ethized tfrvo-is would have it
again move], it tends to move to the more customary ; for
[the mind having, by chance or otherwise, missed moving in
the old way] Custom now 2 assumes the role of Nature/ 5
Hence the rapidity with which we recollect what we fre
quently 4 think about. For as regular sequence of events is
in accordance with nature, so, too, regular sequence is ob
served in the actualization of Kiw/rms [in consciousness], and
here frequency tends to produce [the regularity of] ; " nature. :.o
And since in the realm of nature occurrences G take place which 45 2 b

1 a 27. The well-supported p} with fiiu TraXmoC- has been here adopted.
The only change desirable would seem to be the insertion of roC before naXaiov.
Critics have not seen how the TruXmoV may differ from the customary .
Suppose I want to recollect the name of the Spartan who said xp*)P nT&lt;l
Xprjuar ai rjp, and get, as a clue, the abbreviation Aristo. I once knew
the name well, but since then my reading habits have changed. If my
thoughts leap along their old path (as they naturally should, with the
question and the clue to guide them) they bring me from Aristo to
Aristodemus . If, however, they miss the old track, they bring me to
some name with which I am now more familiar, e.g. Aristotle . Custom
has superseded mere (pixris. Freudenthal, however, asks Aber ist nicht
eben TO o-up^corepoi/ ebenfalls eine Affection die man vor Alters gehabt
hat ? This is \.\\zfons et origo erroris.

2 a 28. fjSi, i.e. at once, upon the old path having been missed,
custom takes the reins.

3 a 30. There being many possible paths for the mind to move in from
F, while that taken by it in its old, i. e. original, experience is only one,
if it misses this old track, &lt;f&gt;vais alone no longer rules : &lt;6&lt;&gt;s also now has
a power of interfering, and even deciding where it shall move. Thus
the old track and the customary are contrasted; which is quite
intelligible, for the mind may have only moved once 5u\ (roC) TrnXmoC, i. e.
from f to the desired goal, but often from F to other points. Therefore
when once 6 ui/a/n/ii /jo-Ko/^yor, or o (ITM, has missed the old track, he
loses the guidance of 0i rm (for which see45i b n) in his particular quest,
and falls under that of c$or.

4 Reading a TroXXnKir a 28.

TTOICJ (pvviv. For the whole cf. A T . E. II. i. 1103*20 (with Stewart s
notes). (j&gt;vtrts \\zrt = organic nature ; fdos = the realm of the actualization
of Kneads in perception, c.

(i 452 b i. E M Y omit ^ before O/IOJ &K b 2. We should, if we followed
these MSS., suppose Aristotle to mean that Nature as a theatre or subject
of freaks is equally present in the sphere of Custom. This, however, is
foreign to the whole tenor of these tracts, in which tyvcris (cf. the frequent
7r 0i;Ke, especially in 45 i b 11) implies a power making for order and
regularity. For rrapa Qvanv cf. 77o b 9 seqq. eon yap TO rtpas (monstrous
birth) TU&gt;V napa tf&gt;v(Tii&gt; rij TTII pa fyvviv 6 ov nacniv KT\. (which last words
show that here too he may be thinking only of organic nature). Cf.
;67 b 5, i255 b i seqq. For nno TI^? cf. iO27 h 12, but especially 197* 36

b 1)K MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

arc even contrary to nature, or fortuitous, the same happens a
fortiori in the sphere swayed by custom, since in this sphere
natural law is not similarly established. Hence it is that
[ from the same starting-point] the mind receives an impulse
to move sometimes in the required direction, 1 and at other
times otherwise, [doing the latter] particularly when some
thing else somehow deflects the mind from the right direction
and attracts it to itself.- This last consideration explains too
5 how it happens that, when we want to remember a name, we
remember one somewhat like 3 it, indeed, but blunder in
reference to [i. e. in pronouncing] the one we intended.

Thus, then, recollection takes place.

But the point of capital importance is that [for the pur
pose of recollection] one should cognize, 4 determinately or
indeterminately, the time-relation |of that which he wishes to
recollect]. There is, let it be taken as a fact, something
by which one distinguishes a greater and a smaller time ; and
it is reasonable to think that one does this in a way analogous

seqq. TO fitv yap dnb rv\ijs triiv IITTO rnvto/xarou, ToCro 6" ov nav a /TO TI ^V
ij /if i&gt; yap TV\T) Kal TO OTTO ri ^rjs (&lt;TT\V otrots Kal TO tvTV%i](Tai av virdpfifv ica i
oXa&gt;? 7Tpais. dto Kal di dyKT) ncpl rd TT/XIKTU dvai rrjv TI/X^V. But he goes
on (l97^ 33^ oTav yap yewjTfii TI [V nns &lt;^&gt;io*i] napd (pixriv^ ToYf OVK dno
Tv\t)S fiXXfi fj.a\\ov dirb ravTOfidrov ytyovtvai (f)ap.fv t with which cf. 289 * 26

also. Here therefore Tvxrjs^=Tavroftarov.

1 K(l = (Kcl(re (which Aristotle does not use). Cf. the regular OKI 1/17 for
the KivTjffis to be recollected, iiuWfv in next line, and rVcct just below 452 b 10.
So aXXws here virtually = XAo&lt;r (which also Aristotle does not use), though
it comes awkwardly before the XX&K in a different sense just following.

* E M V give avrus for avroa-f b 4, but this would make the person s will
perverse, which would be foreign to the matter here. It is something else
that misleads his thoughts. For avroo* cf. Plato, Rep. 369 D. We cannot
take aQfXKy intransitively, but might read ri0c\K# (rt). Yet Aristotle
often leaves the indefinite subject to be supplied. [(tycXxi? without a
subject, and iivrVxrf, are difficult. Perhaps we should read avrot and
take d(pe\KT] intransitively. Edd.]

3 9ra/io/zoioi . It is easy to supply ^vr^tnvtvoiuv from the preceding
clause : there is no difficulty in the accusative, for napopoiov = Trapo/ioinc
TI (rather than ovoun), and besides even if ovopa were supplied it could
stand, as pvr)fwvcvfiv takes accusative even with such outer object. Cf.
1409 5 ra p.(Tpa ndvrcs pvrjuoi (vov(Jt ^inXXoi/ ru&gt;v %vdijv*

4 yva&gt;pi(iv properly = to cognize (or get into the mind) X vodv = to
have in mind. The determinate cognition of time is explained and
illustrated (down to b 24) by the mathematical mode of determining
distance. Then, from b 30, the indeterminate mode of estimating it is
considered. Knowing the time is a prime help towards recollecting the
other circumstances of an event. The time-association is a chief
element in the memory-idea. Aristotle s tlme-Kivrjfftts in what follows
may perhaps, as an assumption, be compared with Lotze s local signs .

CHAPTER II 452b

to that in which one discerns [spatial] magnitudes. For it 10
is not by the mind s reaching out towards them, as some say
a visual ray from the eye does [in seeing], that one thinks l of
large things at a distance in space (for even if they are not there,
one may similarly think them) ; but one does so by a pro
portionate mental movement. For there are in the mind the
like figures and movements [i. e. like to those of objects and
events]. Therefore, when one thinks the greater objects,
in what will his thinking those- differ from his thinking the
smaller? [In nothing,] because all the internal though
smaller are as it were proportional to the external. Now.
as we may assume within a person something proportional 15
to the forms 3 [of distant magnitudes], so, too, we may
doubtless assume also something else proportional to their
distances. As, therefore, if one has [psychically] the move
ment in AB. BE, 4 he constructs in thought [i. c. knows
objectively] FA, since AT and FA bear equal ratios respectively
[to AB and BE], [so G he who recollects also proceeds]. Why
then does he construct FA rather than ZH ? Is it not because 7

1 vofl : the vutjffis referred to here and below is of course carried on
.by the help of 0nj&gt;ra o7znr/.

2 b I3 read with EMY orav TO. pfifa voy, on fte iva vod if TU AoVrco :
ort voft being used for more usual infin. after fiioiVft. One feels that (Ktivn
must refer as elsewhere to the real or outward things .

:i b i5 cftcd-ip. This reminds us of the def. of aurQrjins (424 a 18) as
ftfKTtKov T&gt;I&gt; iil&lt;r0Tjro&gt;v (I8&gt;v (ivtv Ttjs v\T)s. The word is more general than
o-xwaTci, including forms of events as well as of objects, stored (without
the matter) for use in imagination and memory.

4 vSee Figure. BE = the psychic analogue of the d&os of a real object ; AH
= the analogue ( the &lt;*\\n of b 16) of its nrrofTT^fin; FA = the real object; AF =
its real distance, rrjv AB ^c. xivrjatv. All the lines are lines of movement ,
by moving in which the mind constructs real things and distances, vnflv
is used here of the inner or representative lines (the given data), Trtnclv,
except in b 2l, of the outer objects constructed in thought, or, in other
words, objectively known. Possibly iro^o-m should be read for i/oj/o-ru
in b 21. The epistemological implications of iroitiv here are interesting.

5 Not the same as saying AF : FA : : AB : BE, for so we should not have
Km , but o)9 17 AF irpbs rt]v FA, OVTO s f] AB Trpbs ri]v BE. The proposition =
AF : AB : : FA : BE, as required by the reasoning.

6 The application of the geometrical illustration (prefaced by oxnrfp ]) 9
above) to memory is left to the reader, and the apodosis did not need to
be expressed.

7 Manifestly AB : BE : : AF : FA. But if AF : AB were unknown, FA
could not be determined. We have, however (thanks to the power
w Kpivet b 8 above) the ratio of AF : AB, viz. : I. Thus FA is determined ;
for when the mind moves in the KiVrjo-tr AB, BE, it moves at the same time
in that of the determinative ratio 0:1. In constructing ZH it moves similarly
in BE, but now the concurrent determinative ratio is K : A. We know

452 b

DE MEMORIA ET REMINISCENTIA

as AT 1 is to AB, so is to I ? These movements therefore [sc.

in AB, BE, and in : Ij he
has simultaneously. But if he
wishes to construct to thought
ZH, he has in mind BE in like
manner as before [when con
structing FA], but now, instead
of [the movements of the ratio]
: 1, he has in mind [those of

Z I K A ^ 1C ratl I K : A ; for K : A : :

ZA : BA.

When, therefore, the movement corresponding to the
object and that corresponding to its time concur, then one
actually remembers. If one supposes [himself to move in
these different but concurrent ways] without really doing so,
25 he supposes himself to remember. For one may be mistaken,
and think that he remembers when he really does not. But it
is not possible, conversely, that when one actually remembers
he should not suppose himself to remember, but should re
member unconsciously. For remembering, as we have con
ceived it, essentially implies consciousness of itself. If. however,
the movement corresponding to the objective fact takes place
without that corresponding to the time, or, if the latter takes
place without the former, one does not remember. 2
30 The movement answering to the time is of two kinds.
Sometimes in remembering a fact one has no determinate time-
453 a notion of it, no such notion as that, e.g., he did something or
other on the day before yesterday 3 ; while in other cases he has

AH, HE, and that AH : BE : : AT : I A ; . . TA = ^B~ But : ] & ivcs

AT in terms of AH : e.g., AT = AB.i. Hence TA = - = BE.i . Simi-

hirly, ZH would appear in terms of BE ; e.g. as BEy.

1 b 19 AT of the codices is right, as is I of EM V in 1( 20. [The above
explanation of b 17-24 is, in form, due to Professor Smyly. It is the same
in principle as that given by the translator (Greek Theories of Elementary
Cognition, pp. 320-1 n.), but it is simpler, and requires less change in the
letters of the MSS.J

~ Biehl s paragraphing is here wrong, emu- . . . /jc fu"?r&lt;u b 23-29 should
run on with what precedes, for all this has been intended to show the impor
tance of the time for memory and therefore for recollecting. What follows,
on the other hand, is explanatory.

3 The olov clause refers to ^eVpw not to ov ^eVpw. Hence there is no
need of Freudenthal s insertion on U(VTOI nort eirnintrtv : no need as far as

CHAPTER II r 453 a

a determinate notion of the time. Still, even though one does
not remember with actual determination of the time, he
genuinely remembers, none the less. Persons are wont to say
that they remember [something], but yet do not know when
[it occurred, as happens] whenever they do not know deter-
minately the exact length of time implied in the when .

It has been already stated that those who have a good 5
memory are not identical with those who are quick at re
collecting. But the act of recollecting differs from that of
remembering, not only chronologically l , but also in this, that
many also of the other animals [as well as man] have memory*
but, of all that we are acquainted with, none, we venture to say,
except man, shares in the faculty of recollection. The cause
of this is that recollection is, as it were, a mode of inference.- 10
For he who endeavours to recollect infers that he formerly
saw, or heard, or had some such experience, and the process
[by which he succeeds in recollecting] is, as it were, a sort of
investigation. But to investigate in this way belongs naturally
to those animals alone which are also endowed with the
faculty of deliberation ; [which proves what was said above]
for deliberation is a form of inference.

That the affection is corporeal, i.e. that recollection is 315
searching for an image in a corporeal substrate, is proved
by the fact that in some persons, when, despite the most

sense goes ; for critically the question is on a different footing, as Biehl s
apparatus shows.

1 *cara roi&gt; xpoi&gt;i . For TO ai&gt;&lt;i^ip.vii(TK((T0m is not only logically but
chronologically posterior to TO pvrinovfvttv. Mi/^p/ is the presupposition of
avap.vt)(rif. A memory must have been grounded, and one must ( potentially)
remember, before one can recollect. Cf. 45 i b I seqq.. 452*7.

- The &lt;Tv\\oyi&lt;rp6s here is an inference from effect to cause from the
(pavTavfj-a to its origin in past experience, and the process is compared to
the I]TT]&lt;TIS involved in deliberation, for which cf. N. E. iii. ui2 h 20-24
o yap ftovXfvofifvos eoi*e r)Tf ii&gt; *ni avnXvdv TOV tlprjfjifvov rpouov uxnrtp 8in-
ypnp.p.n . . . r/ 8e ftovXfvvis natra C ) Tr ? l$ * n T U f&X arov * v T fl ova\vo"i Trp&rov
fivat f v TIJ y(V((Ti. Thus, in avafiinjcris, ai/aXums of the (pui mo-pa, by the help
of associations, brings back 6 avantpvr)trie6pvos to the irpaynu. oW/u^o-ic
proceeds analytically to account for the (pavrnap-n. The only deductive
factor in the process is the major, that every such Qavratrpa must have
a cause (viz. an experience ) or be capable of being accounted for. This
starts the process of (rp-rja-tf. While /3ouXe i&gt;o-i9 ends by finding out the way to
act) iivdfj.i Tj(ns ends by placing the 0aWn&lt;r/z&lt;i in its relation to past experience.
The av\\oyi(r^os here = the deductive inference which starts the t ) 1 ? " ? -f
the &]Tr](Tt? itself. Syllogism, as a rendering, is hopelessly wrong.
Reasoning would serve but inference seems best.

453 a DK MEMORIA KT REMINISCENTIA

strenuous application of thought, they have been unable to
recollect, it [viz. the arajuz^/o-iy the effort at recollection]
excites a feeling of discomfort, which, even though they
abandon the effort at recollection, 1 persists in them none
the less ; and especially in persons of melancholic tempera
ment. For these are most powerfully moved by presentations.
20 The reason why the effort of recollection is not under the
control of their will is that, as those who throw a stone cannot
stop it at their will when thrown, so he who tries to recollect
and hunts [after an idea] sets up a process in a material
part, [that] in which resides the affection. 2 Those who
have moisture around that part which is the centre of sense-
perception suffer most discomfort of this kind. For when
once the moisture has been set in motion it is not easily
25 brought to rest, until the idea which was sought for has again
presented itself, and thus the movement has found a straight
course. 3 For a similar reason bursts of anger or fits of terror,
when once they have excited such motions, are not at once
allayed, even though the angry or terrified persons [by efforts
of will] set up counter motions, but the passions continue
to move them on, in the same direction as at first, in opposition
to such counter motions. The affection resembles also that in
the case of words, tunes, or sayings, whenever one of them has
become inveterate on the lips. People give them up and
30 resolve to avoid them ; yet again and again they find them
selves humming the forbidden air, or using the prohibited word.
453 b Those whose upper parts are abnormally large, as is the
case with dwarfs, have abnormally weak memory, as compared
with their opposites, because of the great weight which they

1 If dvafUiarf)&lt;TKco 0M a 18 is co-ordinated with ro Trtipffo^Xetf, *i [OVIMT*]
being made copulative, the subject changes from T/}I&gt; avdfunjtnv to fYt oiy,
;md there are other difficulties; but the sense would be in keeping with
14 25 (ens av tWXtf// TO ^rov^^ov] and with a well-known fact, for which cf.
Prof. James s Principles of Psychology, i. 68 1 : 4 Something we have made
the most strenuous efforts to recall, but all in vain, will, soon after we
have given up the attempt, saunter into the mind as innocently as if it had
never been sent for.

2 In which memory consists, see 449 25, 450* 10.

3 Cf. Diog. of Apollonia, apud Theophr. de Sens. 45, Diels, Vorsokrat.
p. 345&gt; *"* y^P Tols dvaiufwqo KOfifVois fi]v diropiav (ivai ntpl TO orr/^os 1 , orav 8e
fvp&lt;i&gt;m, &i&lt;i(TKi$v(iu8(ii xa\ tii am)v(f)if(T0&lt;ii rfjy \vrrns. Circular motion tended
to continue: motion in a straight line, to cease. Cf. 26i a 27-263* 3.

CHAPTER II 453 b

have resting upon the organ of perception, and because their
mnemonic movements are, from the very first, not able to keep
true to a course, but are dispersed, and because, in the effort 5
at recollection, these movements do not easily find a direct
onward path. Infants and very old persons have bad memories,
owing to the amount of movement going on within them ;
for the latter are in process of rapid decay, the former in process
of vigorous growth ; and we may add that children, until
considerably advanced in years, are dwarf-like in their bodily
structure. Such then is our theory as regards memory and
remembering their nature, and the particular organ of the
soul by which animals remember ; also as regards recollection, i
its formal definition, and the manner and causes of its per
formance.

F 2

453 b DE SOMNO ET VIGILIA

CHAPTER I

WITH regard to sleep and waking, we must consider what
they are ; whether they are peculiar to soul or to body,
or common to both ; and if common, to what part of soul
or body they appertain : further, from what cause it arises

15 that they are attributes of animals, and whether all animals
share in them both, or some partake of the one only, others
of the other only, or some partake of neither and some
of both.

Further, in addition to these questions, we must also
inquire what the dream is. and from what cause sleepers
sometimes dream, and sometimes do not ; or whether the
truth is that sleepers always dream but do not always

20 remember (their dream) ; and if this occurs, what its ex
planation is.

Again, [we must inquire] whether it is possible or not to
foresee the future (in dreams), and if it be possible, in what
manner ; further, whether, supposing it possible, it extends only
to things to be accomplished by the agency of Man, or to those
also of which the cause lies in supra-human agency, and which
result from the workings of Nature, or of Spontaneity.

25 First, then, this much is clear, that waking and sleep
appertain to the same part of an animal, inasmuch as they
are opposites, and sleep is evidently a privation of waking.
For contraries, in natural as well as in all other matters,
are seen always to present themselves in the same subject,
and to be affections of the same : examples are health

30 and sickness, beauty and ugliness, strength and weakness,
sight and blindness, hearing and deafness. This is also clear

454 a from the following considerations. The criterion by which

we know the waking person to be awake is identical with
that by which we know the sleeper to be asleep ; for we
assume that one \vho is exercising sense-perception is awake,

CHAPTER I 454 a

and that every one who is awake perceives either some
external movement or else some movement in his own con
sciousness. If waking, then, consists in nothing else than 5
the exercise of sense-perception, the inference is clear, that
the organ, in virtue of which animals perceive, is that by
which they wake, when they are awake, or sleep, when they
are asleep.

But since l the exercise of sense-perception - does not
belong to soul or body exclusively, then (since the subject of
actuality is in every case identical with that of potentiality,
and what is called sense-perception, as actuality, is a move
ment of the soul through the body) it is clear that its ;i
affection 4 is not an affection of soul exclusively, and that 10
a soulless body has not the potentiality" of perception 1 .
[Thus sleep and waking are not attributes of pure intelligence,
on the one hand, or of inanimate bodies, on the other.]

Now. \vhereas we have already elsewhere distinguished what
are called the parts of the soul, and whereas the nutrient is, in
all living bodies, capable of existing without the other parts,
while none of the others can exist without the nutrient ; it is
clear that 7 sleep and waking are not affections of such living 15
things as partake only of growth and decay, e. g. not of
plants, because these have not the faculty of sense-perception,

1 Since waking is not peculiar to soul or body, neither is sleeping;
for sleeping is the potentiality of waking, and if the actuality can
not be peculiar to body or to soul, neither can the potentiality be so.
Sleep is an affection (irn6m) which renders potential the mrr$r/rm-, whose
actuality is waking. But instead of concluding neither is the Truflov
peculiar to soul or body , or neither is the affection peculiar to soul,
nor can a body without soul sleep , he winds up with the conclusion :
4 nor is a body without soul capable of sense-perception ; which involves
the other point ; and is really what he aims at. For to be capable of
nio-dopcadm, without being actually ai&lt;r6avt&gt;nfvos, is to be asleep : to be
incapable of it is to be incapable of sleeping as well as of waking. The
nerve of the reasoning is contained in the parenthesis.

- i. e. in the form of rypipyo/xm.

* Sc. that of ai(Tdr)&lt;Tis.

4 Sc. twos ; see 453 b 28, 29.

5 Cf. 454 b 1 1- 12, where also what is capable of sleeping is virtually
identified with ro fiui/arov alaQuvt(rdm\To KUT evtpy. (iurdnvofj.(vni .

6 Sc. cannot sleep : Sleep, the mitfor, as the parenthesis shows, is
here regarded as dui/ri/ur, waking as tvepytm, of itiadijvis. Vide de An.
II. i. 412* 23-26.

7 The clauses preceding SrjXoi/ on are only the preamble, not the reason,
of what follows. For d&gt;r . . . on cf. 443 n 23, 24.

454 a DK SOMNO KF VIGILIA

whether or not this be capable of separate ] existence ; in its
potentiality, indeed, and in its relationships, it is separable [sc.

from TO Op7TTLKOV\.

Likewise it is clear that [of those which either sleep
or wake] there is no animal which is always awake or
always asleep, but that both these affections belong [alter-
20 natcly] to the same animals. - For if there be an animal
not endued \\ ith sense-perception, it is impossible that this
should either 3 sleep or wake ; since both these are affections

1 Capable of existing separately from TO QptirriKov and the vegeta
tive functions. With rw (lai cf. 448** 20 (note), where TW Ad-yw
explains it. Nowhere in the world can Aristotle find TO m&lt;rdr}Tiic6t&gt; apart
from TO 6ptimic6v. He cannot say that it is x^ptcrTov ^rrXtoy, or xvpiarbv
TOTTW, or fuytfot, yet it is separate TW fivtu, i.e. in its relationship to objects.
It is separate also r// dvri/zft. This difference may be expressed by
saying that TO dpermKov is a 8vv(ip.ts BpcnriK.^ TO nladrjrtKuv a, Bi vafjiis nto~^Ti&lt;^.
rfi Bwapei therefore = * in respect of its potentiality as part of soul , or
briefly as a faculty .

" r. jTr nvTotf TWZ- o)an = the same animals , as in 45o a 15 (repots TWV f.=
* different animals .

1 The difficulty of this whole passage becomes acute here. The
traditional translation involves a misuse of ovrc before the infinitive. The
grammatical version would be - it cannot either sleep or wake, OUT* . . .
ovrf explicating oi&gt;. As the text stands this would make no sense. Inserting
// before t x" w e could restore sense and grammar. This has been assumed
in the translation. It is to be observed that the p(v after oo-n in a 15
has no answering fie . But Aristotle would naturally have gone on from
plants to the case of animals which stood on the border line. Having
said that cpvrd (which have not the organ of sense-perception) cannot
sleep or wake, he would naturally say that if there be any animal which
has not perception it too cannot sleep or wake. In 7;8 b 23-779* 10 he
considers such animals, viz. (pfrpva, which (he there says) do not sleep but
do something like it, just like plants. In Pol. I335 b 24, too, he refers
to these before the stage of mtrlqo-tr, before which stage cp.7toui&lt;T0tn 8d rr)v
u/zjSAuxrif. In another respect the received translation is wrong, for
fl ri ton (&gt;ov cx 1 aurQrpnv does not really = if an animal is, &c. , but
if there be any animal having mo-dqo-t? : the former would be repre
sented rather by ft eo-Tt fwor TO f\ov mo-Orjo-tv. Thus, too, yap a 21 first
gets any meaning, by making it refer to ot- yap . . . fyouo-j in a 17. Then,
however, it appears that o/zoiW . . . rat/rn a 19-21 is out of its place. If,
however, we transfer this to a 24 after mV^TKoD \ve find the next words
tautological. So that there is something almost certainly wrong with
the text. I believe the insertion of /i^ to be required absolutely by the
grammar, and critically justifiable by the consideration that it would
have easily been lost owing to the appearance it has of contradicting
Aristotle s well-known definition of o&gt;oi&gt;. At least its insertion has as
good critical ground to stand upon as that of ^ in 449 a 3 (^1/7) aitrSnvfrm.
The general sense of a 2i 26 (ov ynp . . . cypqyopfvai) is For while
tL ttJiout sensation no creature can do either, ivith sensation every creature
must do both.

An explanation of the passage from a 19 to " 32 communicated by
Mr. Charles Cannan seems so valuable, based as it is on minute and

CHAPTER I 454 a

of the activity of the primary faculty of sense-perception.
But it is equally impossible also that either of these two affec
tions should perpetually attach itself to the same animal, e.g.
that some species of animal should be always asleep or always *5
awake, without intermission ; for all organs which have a
natural function must lose power when they work beyond the
natural time-limit of their working period ; for instance, the
eyes [must lose power] from [too-long continued] seeing, and
must give it up ; and so it is with the hand and every other
member which has a function. Now, if sense-perception is the 30
function of a special organ, this also, if it continues perceiving
beyond the appointed time-limit of its continuous working
period, will lose its power, and will do its work no longer.
Accordingly, if the waking period is determined by this fact,
that in it sense-perception is free ; if in the case of some 454 b
contraries one of the two must be present, while in the case of
others this is not necessary l ; if waking is the contrary of
sleeping, and one of these two must be present to every animal :
it must follow that the state of sleeping is necessary. Finally,
if such affection is Sleep, and this is a state of powerlessness
arising from excess of waking, and excess of waking is in its 5

scholarly analysis of the sense and grammar, that his permission to print it
has been gladly accepted. Mr. Cannan suggests that in a 21 we should read
nv yap fl ri ftrn (coov, or fo)oi/ (popinv), and explains a 19-32 as follows:
But it is equally plain that there is nothing which has one of the two
always, but both affections belong to the same parts and kinds of
animals \animnl s^ for plants are excluded above]. For [(a) as to pan s\
it does not follow that, if some part of an animal has sense-perception,
it the mere part -has the faculty either of sleeping or of waking; for
both these affections arc incident, not to a single organ, but to the
primary faculty of sense-perception [for example, the heart is not always
asleep and the brain always awake (cf. Michael, p. 44. 13, Arist. 453 13),
for in the proper sense they do not sleep or wake at all] ; nor [()*as
to kinds], on the other hand, can either sleeping or waking attach itself
for ever, to the exclusion of the other, to the same thing, in the sense
that some particular kind of animal [e.g. the weasel] is always awake,
and some other [e.g. the dormouse] is always asleep. For (on) all
things having a natural epyoi/ become incapable in time of that tpyov ;
therefore, that of which TO ma-Bnvtadai is an epyov will become incapable
of TO aiVddvccrdai, and leave a blank which must be filled up with sleep,
its contrary.

1 Read in 45 4 b I with EMY ru&gt;v 8 (vavriatv rvv pfv avdyKrj ddrfpov del
7rnpeii/a, ra&gt;f 8* 01". There are certain pairs of contraries (e. g. KaKia and
npfrrj, cf. 1 145* 25) one of which is not always predicable of living animals ;
while there are others of which one must be always present, and to this
class belong sleep and waking.

454 b DE SOMNO KT V1G1LIA

origin sometimes morbid, sometimes not, so that the power-
Icssness or dissolution of activity will be so or not ; it is
inevitable that every creature which wakes must also be
capable of sleeping, since it is impossible that it should con
tinue actualizing its powers perpetually.

So, also, it is impossible for any animal to continue always

10 sleeping. For sleep is an affection of the organ l of sense-
perception a sort of tie or inhibition of function imposed on
it, so that every creature that sleeps must needs have the
organ of sense-perception. Now, that alone which is capable
of sense-perception in actuality has the faculty of sense-
perception ; but to realize this faculty, in the proper and
unqualified sense, is impossible while one is asleep. All
sleep, therefore, must be susceptible of awakening. Accord-

Jj ingly. almost all other animals are clearly observed to partake
in sleep, whether they are aquatic, aerial, or terrestrial, since
fishes of all kinds, and molluscs, as well as all others which have
eyes, have been seen sleeping. Hard-eyed creatures and
insects manifestly assume the posture 2 of sleep ; but the sleep
of all such creatures is of brief duration, so that often it might

-o well baffle one s observation to decide whether they sleep ;i
or not. Of testaceous animals, on the contrary, no direct
sensible evidence is as yet forthcoming to determine whether
they sleep, but if the above reasoning be convincing to any
one, he who follows it will admit this 4 [viz. that they do so].
That, therefore, all animals sleep may be gathered from
these considerations. For an animal is defined as such by

- $ its possessing sense-perception : and we assert that sleep is,
in a certain way. an inhibition of function, or, as it were, a tie,
imposed on sense-perception, while its loosening or remission
constitutes the being awake. But no plant can partake in
cither of these affections, for without sense- perception there

1 What affects the fv#v/;/, affects tlie/acu/ty, and there is no need to
press the distinction here.

- If we cannot see that they are asleep, we can see them couching .
The notion of KM TI; in Kotpo/icva is important ; the allusion to it contains
the point here.

3 fjLT(xov(n TOV KaOfv&civ, not = KuBfvdovat. The point is that mere ob
servation cannot decide the general question : but with the a priori
argument (6 \f\6t\s Xo yor) it helps to convince.

4 [Read roCro for roiVw, with By water. J. P. xxviii. 243. Ecld.J

CHAPTER I 454 b

is neither sleeping nor waking. But creatures which have
sense-perception have likewise the feeling of pain and plea- 30
sure, while those which have these have appetite as well ; but
plants have none of these affections. A mark of this 1 is
that the nutrient part does its own work better when 455 a
(the animal) is asleep than when it is awake. Nutrition
and growth are then especially promoted, a fact which
implies that creatures do not need sense-perception to assist
these processes.

CHAPTER II

We must now proceed to inquire into the cause why one
sleeps and wakes, and into the particular nature of the sense-
perception, or sense-perceptions, if there be several, on which
these affections depend. Since, then, some animals possess r
all the modes of sense-perception, and some not all, not, for
example, sight, while all possess touch and taste, except such
animals as arc imperfectly developed, a class of which we
have already treated in our work on the soul ; and since an
animal when asleep is unable to exercise, in the simple sense,
any particular 2 sensory faculty whatever, it follows that in 10
the state called sleep the same affection must extend to all ::
the special senses ; because, if it attaches itself to one of them
but not to another, then an animal while asleep may perceive
with the latter : but this is impossible.

Now, since every sense has something peculiar, and also
something common ; peculiar, as, e. g., seeing is to the sense
of sight, hearing to the auditory sense, and so on with the 15
other senses severally ; while all are accompanied by a com
mon power, in virtue whereof a person perceives tJiat he sees
or hears (for, assuredly, it is not by the special 4 sense of sight
that one sees that he sees ; and it is not by mere taste, or

1 Separableness of the nutrient from the sentient faculty.

* Sleep is an affection of the general faculty TO aiaOrjTiKuv navrcov,
which does not preclude such exercise of this as takes place in
dreaming.

3 The text is exceedingly doubtful : cf. n 25 infra (where the conclusion
of the matter is given) &6 ni TTCKTIV vrrdpxei rnly Cot?, and also the words
ft yap TCO Traaas TI irttrovOfval a 27-8.

I3ut by the general sense, (/it&lt;t related to the special .

455 a DE SOMNO KT VIGILIA

sight, or both together that one discerns, and has the faculty of
discerning, that sweet things are different from white things,
but by a faculty connected in common with all the organs of

20 sense : for there is one sensory function, and the controlling
sensory faculty is one, though differing as a faculty of percep
tion l in relation to each genus of sensibles, e. g., sound or
colour) ; and since this [common sensory activity] subsists in
association chiefly with the faculty of touch (for this [touch]
can exist apart from all the other organs of sense, but none
of them can exist apart from it a subject of which we

25 have treated in our speculations concerning the Soul) ; it is
therefore evident that waking and sleeping are an affection
of this [common and controlling organ of sense-perception].
This explains why they belong to all animals, for touch
[with which this common organ is chiefly connected], alone,
| is common] to all [animals].

For if sleeping were caused by the special senses having
each and all undergone some affection, it would be strange
that these senses, for which it is neither necessary nor in
a manner possible to realize their powers simultaneously,

30 should necessarily all go idle and become motionless simul
taneously. For the contrary experience, viz. that they
should not go to rest altogether, would have been more
reasonably anticipated. But, according to the explanation
just given, all is quite clear regarding those also. For, when
the sense organ which controls all the others, and to which
all the others are tributary, has been in some way affected,
455 b that these others should be all affected at the same time
is inevitable, whereas, if one of the tributaries becomes power
less, that the controlling organ should also become powerless
need in no wise follow.

It is indeed evident from many considerations that sleep
docs not consist in the mere fact that the special senses do
not function or that one docs not employ them ; and that
it docs not consist merely in an inability to exercise the
5 sense-perceptions ; for such is what happens in cases of
swooning. A swoon means just such impotence of percep-

1 TO 3 fU .u al(T0r](r(i eVf/&gt;or. Cf. 459 :v 1 6 TO & fir
governs roO -yeYonr. Cf. 449 a 18 (note).

CHAPTER II 455 b

tion, and certain other cases of unconsciousness also arc of
this nature. Moreover, persons who have the blood-vessels
in the neck compressed become insensible. But sleep super
venes when such incapacity of exercise has neither arisen in
some casual organ of sense, nor from some chance cause.
but when, as has been just stated, it has its seat in the I0
primary organ with which one perceives objects in general. 1
For when this has become powerless all the other sensory
organs also must lack power to perceive ; but when one of
them has become powerless, it is not necessary for this also
to lose its power.

We must next state the cause to which it is due. and
its quality as an affection. Now, since there are several
types of cause (for we assign equally the final , the efficient . *5
the material , and the formal as causes), in the first place,
then, as we assert that Nature operates for the sake of an
end, and that this end is a. good 2 ; and that to every creature
which is endowed by nature with the power to move, but
cannot with pleasure :i to itself move always and continuously,
rest is necessary and beneficial ; and since, taught by cxperi- -o
ence. men apply to sleep this metaphorical 4 term, calling
it a rest [from the strain of movement implied in sense-
perception] : we conclude that its end is the conservation of
animals. But the waking state is for an animal its highest
end, since the exercise of sense-perception or of thought is the
highest end for all beings to which either of these appertains ;
inasmuch as these are best, and the highest end is what is
best : whence it follows that sleep belongs of necessity to 2 5
each animal. I use the term necessity in its conditional
sense, meaning that if an animal is to exist and have its own
proper nature, it must have certain endowments ; and, if these

1 See 449 tt 7 r " nlvBtyrinov

2 avannvo-is is an end, i.e. a good ; but fhe end, i. e. the highest end, of
animal life is TO nla-6. Km TO &lt;/&gt;/)or?It&gt;, to which VTTVOS is subordinated. Cf.
infra a 23-25. The i\ya6&lt;. n&gt; TI is distinguished from TO rtXos.

3 Anaxagoras held that all nio-d^ms is pcra himrjs. Theophr. de Sens.
29. Cf. also Aristotle, A r . E. II$4 b 7 nei ynp novel TO ((Ooi&gt; axrrrfp Km m
&lt;pv(Tio\oyoi p.ainvpni 0-i, T&lt;&gt; opav, TO (\Kovfiv (JH KTKOITCS elvai \vrrrjpnv.

4 The metaphor is plain enough in the Greek word tiviinavais.
No word in English seems to meet the case so well as rest . EM give
KciTixpnpni . which, however, it would be difficult to translate here. But cf.

K(lT(lfj)(fKT(li. 456 24.

455 b DE SOMNO KT VIGILIA

arc to belong to it, certain others likewise must belong to it
[as their condition].

The next question to be discussed is that of the kind of
movement or action, taking place within their bodies, from
;,o which the affection of waking or sleeping arises in animals.
Now, we must assume that the causes of this affection in all
other animals are identical with, or analogous to, those which
operate in sanguineous animals ; and that the causes operat
ing in sanguineous animals generally are identical with those
operating in man. Hence we must consider the entire sub
ject in the light of these instances [afforded by sanguineous
456 a animals, especially man]. Now, it has been definitely settled
already in another work that sense-perception in animals
originates in the same part of the organism in which move
ment originates. This locus of origination is one of three
determinate loci. viz. that which lies midway between the
head and the abdomen. This in sanguineous animals is
the region of the heart ; for all sanguineous animals have

5 a heart ; and from this it is that both motion and the con
trolling sense-perception originate. Now, as regards move
ment, it is obvious that that of breathing and of the cooling
process generally takes its rise there ; and it is with a view to
the conservation of the [due amount of] heat in this part that
nature has formed as she has both the animals which respire,
and those which cool themselves by moisture. Of this

10 [cooling process] per sc we shall treat hereafter. In bloodless
animals, and insects, and such as do not respire, the con
natural spirit l is seen alternately puffed up and subsiding
in the part which is in them analogous [to the region of the
heart in sanguineous animals]. This is clearly observable
in the holoptcra [insects with undivided wings] as wasps and
bees ; also in flies and such creatures. And since to move

15 anything, or do anything, is impossible without strength, and
holding the breath produces strength in creatures which
inhale, the holding of that breath 2 which comes from without,

1 TO (Tvp.&lt;pvrov TTi tvpa, \. c. the ni vfji(i which is naturally inherent, as
opposed to that inhaled (TO QvpaQfv (TTCIO-CIKTOV).

a 17 ffupafov is short for / ToG 0vpa6fv trvtvparos Ka&if, as r) &lt;rvp.(pvTos

alSO = f] TOV (TVfl(f)VTOV

CHAPTER II 456 a

but, in creatures which do not respire, of that which is con
natural (which explains why winged insects of the class
holoptera, when they move, are perceived to make a hum
ming noise, due to the friction of the connatural spirit collid
ing with the diaphragm) ; and since movement 1 is, in every 20
animal, attended 2 with some sense-perception, either internal
or external 3 , in the primary organ of sense, [we conclude]
accordingly that if sleeping and waking are affections of this
organ, the place in which, or the organ in which, sleep and
waking originate, is self-evident [being that in which move- 25
ment and sense-perception originate, viz. the heart].

Some persons move in their sleep, and perform many acts
like waking acts, but not without a phantasm or an exercise
of sense-perception ; for a dream is in a certain way a sense-
impression. But of them we have to speak later on. Why
it is that persons when aroused remember their dreams, but
do not remember these acts which are like waking acts, has
been already explained in the work Of Problems .

CHAPTER III

The point for consideration next in order to the preceding ?o
is : What are the processes in which the affection of waking
and sleeping originates, and whence do they arise? Now,
since it is when it has sense-perception that an animal must
first take 4 food and receive growth, and in all cases food in its
ultimate form is, in sanguineous animals, the natural sub- 35
stance blood, or, in bloodless animals, that which is analogous
to this ; and since the veins are the place of the blood, while 45 b
the origin of these is the heart an assertion which is proved
by anatomy it is manifest that, when the external nutriment

Aristotle does not mean that whenever one
has an mo-^o-i? he moves (or is moved) locally. The Kivelrm here and
the mvcw a 15 refer to local movement, involving output of bodily energy,
not to the KiVf/ai? (or stimulation) of sense.

2 U 20 If instead of ytvopcvijg ( a 2o) yevopfvys were read, the movement
should be regarded as prompted by the perception -- a very important
difference.

3 oiKfias 17 aXXorpins : arising either from an intra-organic or an extra-
organic stimulus.

4 i.e. qua animal; before this, in the embryonic stage, it grows and is
nourished like a vegetable.

456 b DK SOMNO KT VIGILTA

enters the parts fitted for its reception, the evaporation arising
from it enters into the veins, and there, undergoing a change,

5 is converted into blood, and makes its way to their source
[the heart]. We have treated of all this when discussing
the subject of nutrition, but must here recapitulate what was
there said, in order that we may obtain a scientific view of the
beginnings of the process, and come to know what exactly
happens to the primary organ of sense-perception to account
for the occurrence of waking and sleep. For sleep, as has

10 been shown, is not any given impotence of the perceptive
faculty ; for unconsciousness, a certain form of asphyxia, and
swooning, all produce such impotence. Moreover it is an estab
lished fact that some persons in a profound trance have still had
the imaginative faculty in play. This last point, indeed, gives
rise to a difficulty ; for if it is conceivable that one who had
swooned should in this state fall asleep, the phantasm also which
then presented itself to his mind might be regarded as a dream.

15 Persons, too, who have fallen into a deep trance, and have
come to be regarded as dead, say many things while in
this condition. The same view, however, is to be taken of
all these cases, [i. e. that they arc not cases of sleeping or
dreaming].

As we observed above, sleep is not co-extensive with any and
every impotence of the perceptive faculty, but this affection is
one which arises from the evaporation attendant upon the

20 process of nutrition. The matter evaporated must be driven
onwards to a certain point, then turn back, and change its
current to and fro, like a tide-race in a narrow strait. Now,
in every animal the hot naturally tends to move [and carry
other things] upwards, but when it has reached the parts above,
[becoming cool, see 457 30] it turns back again, and moves
downwards in a mass. This explains why fits of drowsiness are
especially apt to come on after meals ; for the matter, both the

25 liquid and the corporeal, which is borne upwards in a mass, is
then of considerable quantity. When, therefore, this comes to
a stand it weighs a person down and causes him to nod, but
when it has actually sunk downwards, and by its return has re
pulsed the hot, sleep comes on, and the animal so affected is
presently asleep. A confirmation of this appears from consider-

CHAPTER III 456 b

ing the things which induce sleep ; they all, whether potable ?|0
or edible, for instance poppy, mandragora, wine, darnel, produce
a heaviness in the head ; and persons borne down [by sleepi
ness] and nodding [drowsily] all seem affected in this way,
i. e. they are unable to lift up the head or the eye-lids. And
it is after meals especially that sleep comes on like this, for
the evaporation from the foods eaten is then copious. It also
follows certain forms of fatigue ; for fatigue operates as a
solvent, and the dissolved matter acts, if not cold, like food 35
prior to digestion. Moreover, some kinds of illness have 457 a
this same effect ; those arising from moist and hot secretions,
as happens with fever-patients and in cases of lethargy. 1
Extreme youth also has this effect ; infants, for example,
sleep a great deal, because of the food being all borne upwards
a mark whereof appears in the disproportionately large size =,
of the upper parts compared with the lower during infancy,
which is due to the fact that growth predominates in the
direction of the former. Hence also they are subject to
epileptic 2 seizures ; for sleep is like epilepsy, and, in a sense,
actually is a seizure of this sort. Accordingly, the beginning 10
of this malady takes place with many during sleep, and their
subsequent habitual seizures occur in sleep, not in waking
hours. For when the spirit [evaporation] moves upwards in
a volume, on its return downwards it distends the veins, and
forcibly compresses the passage through which respiration is
effected. This explains why wines are not good for infants
or for wet nurses (for it makes no difference, doubtless, 15
whether the infants themselves, or their nurses, drink them),
but such persons should drink them [if at all] diluted with
water and in small quantity. For wine is spirituous, and of all
wines the dark more so than any other. The upper parts,
in infants, are so filled with nutriment that within five months
[after birth] they do not even turn the neck [sc. to raise the
head] ; for in them, as in persons deeply intoxicated, there is
ever a large quantity of moisture ascending. It is reasonable, 20

1 If V be right, \rjdapyos may be either a substantive or an adjective
in agreement with Trvpero is understood.

2 Not merely childish fits and convulsions, but epileptic fits. The
word in this sense is as old as Hippocrates, and the facts here stated are
all medical truths.

457 a DE SOMXO KT VIGILIA

too, to think that this affection is the cause of the embryo s
remaining at rest in the womb at first. Also, as a general rule,
persons whose veins are inconspicuous, as well as those who
are dwarf-like, or have abnormally large heads, are addicted
to sleep. For in the former the veins are narrow, so that
it is not easy for the moisture to flow down through them ;
while in the case of dwarfs and those whose heads are ab-
-&gt;5 normally large, the impetus of the evaporation upwards is
excessive. Those [on the contrary] whose veins arc large
are, thanks to the easy flow through the veins, not addicted
to sleep, unless, indeed, they labour under some other affec
tion which counteracts [this easy flow]. Nor are the atra
bilious addicted to sleep, for in them the inward region is
cooled so that the quantity of evaporation in their case is not
great. For this reason they have large appetites, though
?,o spare and lean ; for their bodily condition is as if they
derived no benefit from what they eat. The dark bile, too,
being itself naturally cold, cools also the nutrient tract, and
the other parts wheresover such secretion [bile] is potentially
present [i. e. tends to be formed].

457 b Hence it is plain from what has been said that sleep is
a sort of concentration, or natural recoil, 1 of the hot matter
inwards [towards its centre], due to the cause above men
tioned. Hence restless movement is a marked feature in the
case of a person when drowsy. But where it [the heat in the
upper and outer parts] begins to fail, he grows cool, and
owing to this cooling process his eye-lids droop. Accord-
5 ingly [in sleep] the upper and outward parts are cool, but

1 \Vhat is meant is otherwise expressed, 458" 10 awfw pkvr] KT\.
nvTinfpiffTaais is not here used in its strict sense, in which it involves real
circulation . Hence ns goes with it as well as with (rvvodos. avrnrfpicrTa-
&lt;ri* is defined by Simplicius as a circular process in which when a body-
is pushed out of its place that which has expelled it occupies the place,
while that which has been thrust out pushes the adjoining body from its
place, until the last moved in this series finds itself in the place of the
first, which extruded something else . It depends on the fact that there
is no vacuum. (Cf. 266" 25 seqq., 459 b 2, 472* 17 ; Zeller, Plato (E.T.),
p. 430; Zeller, Arist. i. 515, ii. 378, n.) So Aristotle explained physical
facts like the motion of projectiles. Plato, Tim. 79 B-E, uses the word
TTf piwOeiv for what A. refers to avTurepiffTaais. We see the effect of the
process when on suddenly opening a door in a room the opposite door
shuts, or vice versa. Reference to this explains rrjs "px?is 454 h 2, q.i 1 .

CHAPTER III 457b

the inward and lower, i. e. the parts at the feet and in the
interior of the body, are hot.

Yet one might found a difficulty on the facts that sleep is
most oppressive in its onset after meals, and that wine, and
other such things, though they possess heating properties, arc
productive of sleep, 1 for it is not probable that sleep should be
a process of cooling while the things that cause sleeping arc 10
themselves hot. Is the explanation of this, then, to be found
in the fact that, as the stomach when empty is hot, while
replenishment cools it by the movement it occasions, so the
passages and tracts in the head are cooled as the : evapora
tion ascends thither ? Or, as those who have hot water
poured on them feel a sudden shiver of cold, just so in the 15
case before us. may it be that, when the hot substance ascends,
the cold rallying to meet it cools [the aforesaid parts], deprives
their native heat of all its power, and compels it to retire ?
Moreover, when much food is taken, which [i. c. the nutrient
evaporation from which] the hot substance carries upwards,
this latter, like a fire when fresh logs are laid upon it, is itself
cooled, until the food has been digested.

For, as has been observed elsewhere, 2 sleep comes on when -&gt;o
the corporeal element [in the evaporation ] is conveyed
upwards by the hot, along the veins, to the head. But when
that which has been thus carried up can no longer ascend,
but is too great in quantity :! [to do so], it forces the hot
back again and flows downwards. Hence it is that men sink
down [as they do in sleep] when the heat which tends to keep
them erect (man alone, among animals, being naturally erect) &gt;$
is withdrawn ; and this, when it befalls 4 them, causes uncon
sciousness, and afterwards 5 phantasy.

Or are the solutions thus proposed barely conceivable
accounts of the refrigeration which takes place, while, as

1 9. There should be only a comma after TOHIVT&lt;I. &lt;V here gives the
argument from the opponent s point of view, and = for .

2 De Part. An. ii. 7, 653* 10.

3 A new factor mechanical pressure is here introduced.

4 ffrtirctroy sc. TO vire &lt;nrd(rda i TO Btpfu w. Bonitz, Ind. 267 a 32 makes
TO Qfppm alone agree with eVtTTfo-oV, and so Freudenthal translates * wieder-
eindringend efzeugt das Warme Bewusstlosigkeit . fmmnrfiv expresses
a hostile attack, an onset.

Afterwards , i.e. when the process of SIUK/UO-IS sets in ; cf. 46i a 25.

AR PN (J

457 b DE SOMNO ET VIGILIA

a matter of fact, the region of the brain is, as stated else
where, the main determinant of the matter ? For the brain,
30 or in creatures without a brain that which corresponds to it,
is of all parts of the body the coolest. Therefore, as moisture
turned into vapour by the sun s heat is, when it has ascended
to the upper regions, cooled by the coldness of the latter, and
becoming condensed, is carried downwards, and turned into

458 a water once more ; just so the excrementitious evaporation, when

carried up by the heat to the region of the brain, is condensed
into a phlegm (which explains why catarrhs are seen to
proceed from the head); while that evaporation which is
5 nutrient and not unwholesome, becoming condensed, descends
and cools the hot. The tenuity or narrowness of the veins
about the brain itself contributes to its being kept cool, and
to its not readily admitting the evaporation. This, then, is
a sufficient explanation of the cooling which takes place,
despite the fact that the evaporation is exceedingly hot.

10 A person awakes from sleep when digestion is completed:
when the heat, which had been previously forced together in
large quantity within a small compass from out the surround
ing part, has once more prevailed, and when a separation has
been effected l between the more corporeal and the purer
blood. 2 The finest and purest blood is that contained in the
head, while the thickest and most turbid is that in the lower

15 parts. The source of all the blood is, as has been stated
both here and elsewhere, the heart. Now of the chambers in
the heart the central communicates with each of the two
others. Each of the latter again acts as receiver from each,
respectively, of the two vessels, 3 called the great and the
aorta . It is in the central chamber that the [above-men-

20 tioned] separation takes place. To go into these matters
in detail would, however, be more properly the business of
a different treatise from the present. Owing to the fact that
the blood formed after the assimilation of food is especially

1 Sc. in the heart ; see below a 19.

2 Contained in the * evaporated substance now collected back into the
heart.

3 To use the term artery here in translation would mislead any mere
Knglish reader into thinking that Aristotle knew the difference between
arteries and veins.

CHAPTER III 458 a

in need of separation, sleep [then especially] occurs [and
lasts] until the purest part of this blood has been separated
off into the upper parts of the body, and the most turbid
into the lower parts. When this has taken place animals
awake from sleep, being released from the heaviness conse
quent on taking food.

We have now stated the cause l of sleeping, viz., that it 25
consists in the recoil by 2 the corporeal element, upborne by
the connatural heat, in a mass upon the primary sense-organ ;
we have also stated ivhat 3 sleep is, having shown that it is
a seizure of the primary sense-organ, rendering it unable to
actualize its powers ; arising of necessity (for it is impossible 30
for an animal to exist if the conditions which render it an
animal be not fulfilled), i. e., for the sake of its conservation 4 ;
since remission of movement tends to the conservation of
animals.

1 This gives the cause o6tv 17 *u;&lt;m-, or efficient cause : the kinetic
energy of TO Btppnv. The material cause is TO vu6vp.iu&gt;p.(vov, and the other
material conditions, regarded statically, i.e. in abstraction from their

2 17 ... avTiirfpitrraiTis sc. yiyvopfinj. In 45& 1 I TO Btpp tv is used for
TO (T&lt;t)p.aTo)d(s TO dva(f). VTTO TUV &lt;TVH&lt;PVTOV 6tpn&lt;&gt;v here. The agency which
causes the recoil is the cold of the brain : hence wro a 26 ^ (not caused
by , but) undergone by . The VTTO in this sense is curious, but oV&lt;-
7re/)i &lt;rnirrif (corresponding to dvTHTtptffTrjvnt, not to avrnrtpmrrttvai} is a sort
of manoeuvre effected by the substance.

3 i. e. its definition or formal cause.

4 cra&gt;TT]pia. is theyftw/ cause.

n]7 S OMNI IS
CHAPTKR I

WK must, in the next place, investigate the subject of the
dream, and first inquire to which of the faculties of the soul it
presents itself, i. e. whether the affection is one which per
tains to the faculty of intelligence or to that of sense- percep
tion ; for these are the only faculties within us by which we
acquire knowledge.

If, then, the exercise of the faculty of sight is actual seeing,
that of the auditory faculty, hearing, and, in general that of
the faculty of sense-perception, perceiving ; and if there are
5 some perceptions common to the senses, such as figure, mag
nitude, motion, &c., while there are others, as colour, sound,
taste, peculiar [each to its own sense] ; and further, if all
creatures, when the eyes are closed in sleep, are unable to see,
and the analogous statement is true of the other senses, so
that manifestly we perceive nothing ! when asleep ; we may
conclude that it is not by sense-perception we perceive
a dream.

But neither is it by opinion that we do so. For [in
10 dreams] we not only assert, e.g., that some object approach
ing is a man or a horse [which would be an exercise of
opinion], but that the object is white or beautiful, points
on which opinion without sense-perception asserts nothing

1 458 b 8. Read after Christ s conj. ov8ti&gt; eV. We do not perceive any
thing in sleep with \\\& particular or special senses, but the npwov al&lt;r6rrn.Kfo
is active in the dream, i. e. we perceive, in a way to be explained
in these chapters, with the general sense as re-presentative faculty.
Biehl wrongly marks the apodosis at cotrre b 8: it really begins at OVK
apa ye b 9. The coore clause states the consequence of the fact contained
in the clause commencing aSvmrcl 8, and therefore belongs to the
premisses. We cannot by sense perceive either the KOIVU or the 1dm
in sleep, so that we cannot then perceive anything at all ; therefore it
is not by sense that we perceive a dream (not, that is. by special sense,
as afterwards to be explained). Such is the argument.

CHAPTER T 458 b

either truly or falsely. It is, however, a fact that the soul
makes such assertions in sleep. We seem to see equally well
that the approaching figure is a man, and that it is white.
[In dreams], too, we think something else, over and above 15
the dream presentation, just as we do in waking moments
when we perceive something ; for we often also reason about
that which we perceive. So, too, in sleep we sometimes have
thoughts other than the mere phantasms immediately before
our minds. This would be manifest to any one who should
attend and try, immediately on arising from sleep, to remem
ber [his dreaming experiences]. There are cases of persons 20
who have seen such dreams, those, for example, who believe
themselves to be mentally arranging a given list of subjects
according to the mnemonic rule. They frequently find
themselves engaged in something else besides the dream, viz.
in setting a phantasm which they envisage into its mnemonic
position. 1 Hence it is plain that not every phantasm in sleep
is a mere dream-image, and that the further thinking which we 25
perform then is due to an exercise of the faculty of opinion.

So much at least is plain on all these points, viz. that
the faculty by which, in waking hours, we are subject to
illusion when affected by disease, is identical with that which
produces illusory effects in sleep. So, even when persons are
in excellent health, and know the facts of the case perfectly
well, the sun, nevertheless, appears - to them to be only a
foot wide. Now, whether the presentative faculty of the
soul be identical with, or different from, the faculty of sense- 3
perception, in either case the illusion does not occur without
our actually seeing or [otherwise] perceiving something. Even

1 The word faiivaa pa here and in b 24 is, according to Freudenthal, a
generalized vorstellung , of the nature of a concept. But as \ve see from
458 b 1 8 and 462* 29 its proper application is to the dream-image. Here
that which is napa TO c vi.it vwv s not the mere ^uiyrrur/ui, but the activity
of thought expressed in riBeadm ds rbv ronov &lt;j)(ii&gt;Ta&lt;rp.a, this clause being
in apposition to &lt;7A\o TJ, which it explains. In h 24, however, $u*&gt;ruo&gt;ui
seems to refer to that activity.

2 5oK6t is here used improperly for the more correct JHIIV(T&lt;U. See
tie An. 428 b 1-3 (/xitWrm p.iv o r/Ato? Tro&mov, TrenfHTTin o eiVm [idfa TTJS
oiKovfjLfvrjf. See also 46o b 18. We cannot suppose Aristotle to be here
alluding to the unscientific opinion of those who (like Epicurus and his
school afterwards) insisted that the sun is only so large as it seems to
the eye. Cf. Kant s reference to the persistent illusion of sense on
this point (of the size of the sun or moon).

45 b DE SOMNIIS

to see wrongly or to hear wrongly can happen only to one
who sees or hears something real, though not exactly what he
supposes. But we have assumed that in sleep one neither
459 a sees, nor hears, nor exercises any sense whatever. Perhaps
we may regard it as true that the dreamer sees nothing, yet
as false that his faculty of sense-perception is unaffected, the
fact being that the sense of seeing and the other senses may
possibly be then in a certain way affected, while each of these
affections, as duly as when he is awake, gives its impulse in
5 a certain manner to his [primary] faculty of sense, though
not in precisely the same manner 1 as when he is aw r ake.
Sometimes, too, opinion says [to dreamers] just as to those
who are awake, that the object seen is an illusion ; at other
times it is inhibited, and becomes a mere follower of the
phantasm.

It is plain therefore that this affection, which we name
dreaming , is no mere exercise of opinion or intelligence,

10 but yet is not an affection of the faculty of perception in the
simple sense. 2 If it were the latter it would be possible
[when asleep] to hear and see in the simple sense.

How then, and in what manner, it takes place, is what we
have to examine. Let us assume, what is indeed clear
enough, that the affection [of dreaming] pertains to sense-
perception as surely as sleep itself does. For sleep does not
pertain to one organ in animals and dreaming to another ;
both pertain to the same organ.

15 But since we have, in our work on the Soul, treated of
presentation. 4 and the faculty of presentation is identical

1 ov\ . . . QHTTffi) : not directly from the mV$//T5i&gt;, but indirectly or me
diately from the residual KIISTJO-IS the ina-di^a vn-oXotn-oi/.

2 aw0avt(r0ai TT\COV : opp. Kara 7r/&gt;oo-$f(rij , with a difference or qualifi
cation. Dreaming is afterwards shown to be alcrdavfa-dai in a secondary
sense, or Kara (rvupcftriKtis, i. e. in virtue of the residual m^o-tiv left in the
organs after mo-Br^ris has departed.

s 42; b 27-429 a 9.

4 The word * imagination , owing to popular and psychological asso
ciations, is unfitted to be a rendering of 0a*ru&lt;ria here, and presenta
tion is now a recognized term x re-presentation. For the operation
of fydvrav m in ordinary aiaQijffts see 460 18, where ^aiverm to have a
presentation a 0Jrrao-/Li not a representation. Presentation differs
from (iio-dr)&lt;ris (in which it is involved). It is the aspect in which that
which mcrdfycrif apprehends is put before the mind s eye, so to speak.
- takes the tifiq fivtv vX^ of mVtfr/ra, and presents them as

CHAPTER I 459 a

with l that of sense-perception, though the essential notion of
a faculty of presentation is different from that of a faculty
of sense-perception ; and since presentation is the movement
set up by a sensory faculty when actually discharging its
function, while a dream appears to be a presentation (for
a presentation which occurs in sleep whether simply 2 or in 20
some particular way is what we call a dream): it manifestly
follows that dreaming is an activity of the faculty of sense-
perception, but belongs to this faculty qua presentative.

CHAPTER II

We can best obtain a scientific view of the nature of the
dream and the manner in which it originates by regarding it
in the light of the circumstances attending sleep. The objects 25
of sense-perception corresponding to each sensory organ pro
duce sense-perception in us, and the affection due to their
operation is present in the organs of sense not only when
the perceptions are actualized, but even when they have
departed.

What happens in these cases may be compared with what
happens in the case of projectiles moving in space. Eor in
the case of these the movement continues even when that
which set up the movement is no longer in contact [with the 30
things that are moved]. For that which set them in motion
moves 15 a certain portion of air, and this, in turn, being moved
excites motion in another portion ; and so, accordingly, it is
in this way that [the bodies], whether in air or in liquids,
continue moving, until they 4 come to a standstill.

material of thought or opinion. This explains how TO cu/m (JHIVTIHTTIKU (the
essential notion of a faculty of presentation) differs from ri ftrnt mo-drjTiKu.
See 449* 16-20, 454* 19, 455* 21, with notes.

1 i. e. inseparable numero, and in concrete existence, from it.

2 U7r\a&gt;f : without specifying particular conditions: rpunov rif.i, i.e. in
the way defined 462* 29, where the $uvra&lt;r/ia of the dream is said to be
formed dnb rfjs KIVTJ&lt;TOS ru&gt;v ala-B^^ iT^v : the case to which the dream proper
is here restricted.

* (Kivrjo-fv not consuetudinal aorist , but referring to the time of Kivqcriiv.
Still it may be rendered as in the text.

4 eco? uv &lt;TTTJ sc. ra &lt;f)(p6fji(va. While their movement lasts it is to this
cause it is due. The emphasis lies on TOVTOV rbi&gt; rporrov. The move
ment lasts until the last thing (portion of air) has come into the place of
the first movement eW rr/y ti )* ^ ee next note l )ut one -

459 b DK SOMNIIS

This we must likewise assume to happen in the case of
qualitative change 1 ; for that part which [for example] has been
heated by something hot, heats [in turn] the part next to it,
and this propagates the affection continuously onwards until
the process has come round to its point of origination. - This

5 must also happen in the organ wherein the exercise of sense-
perception takes place, since sense-perception, as realized in
actual perceiving, is a mode of qualitative change. This
explains why the affection continues in the sensory organs,
both in their deeper and in their more superficial parts, not
merely while they are actually engaged in perceiving, but even
after they have ceased to do so. That they do this, indeed, is
obvious in cases where we continue for some time engaged
in a particular form of perception, for then, when we shift
the scene of our perceptive activity, the previous affection
remains ; for instance, when we have turned our gaze from
sunlight :i into darkness. For the result of this is that one

10 sees nothing, owing to the motion excited by the light
still subsisting in our eyes. Also, when we have looked
steadily for a long while at one colour, e. g. at white or green,
that to which we next transfer our gaze appears to be of

1 Not merely, as with projectiles, in change of place.

2 (a&gt;s rijs ap\&gt;]s. The process of uXXot ooo-is in a material body is like that
of ut&gt;Ti7r(piaTa(ns (see note 457 * 2), which ends when the last thing moved
takes the place vacated by the first. This place is 17 p\rj: i.e.
the place o6fv 17 KIVTIVIS tip \trat. Something is here supposed to occur
in the process of heating analogous to what occurs in the case of the
projectile. The heat having been applied (and then withdrawn this is
the meaning), something (corresponding to the displaced part of the air)
is displaced by it in TO TrX^oW, which becomes hot, while that which
was displaced again retires, and so on (KOT avraXXayrjv TO&gt;I&gt; TOTTGH , as
Simplic. would say) until the process ends where it began. The air in
successive parts retires before the stone; what retires before TO deploy?
TO \lsvxpov or T) \lrvxpoTr)s, which for Aristotle was a positive. The con
clusion of the process in the case of the stone is a state of rest the
stopping of the stone. What is it in the case of Mppavais (a word
which Bonitz omits in his Index, though it occurs 1067 12 q.i&gt;.} i? The
answer is 17 Gcpparrjs TOV o\i.v. With this the Kiinjais (involved in the
ciAXouiMriff) ceases : for eanv ov% /} OfppoTtis KIVTJUIV, aXX y Otpfjuwis (io6/ b
I2. We cannot look for an exact parallel to all this in the case of aivB^cns,
which at most is only dAXoi oxm ns : yet something analogous to iivn-
TrepioTucm seems to occur in the Kivfjaeis that, as it were, circulate between
the external points of sense (eye, ear, &c.) and the Kvptov, between which
poles the Kivijaeis and the inhibiting forces (their negatives) move.

3 If we had been gazing at the sun itself we should not * see nothing ,
but continue to see the sun, as stated below 459 b 13.

CHAPTER II 459 b

the same colour. Again if, after having looked at the sun
or some other brilliant object, we close the eyes, then, if
we watch carefully, it appears in a right line with the direction 15
of vision (whatever this may be), at first in its own colour ; then
it changes to crimson, next to purple, until it becomes black
and disappears. And also when persons turn away from
looking at objects in motion, e.g. rivers, and especially those
which flow very rapidly, they find that the visual stimula
tions l still present themselves, for the things really at rest are 20
then seen moving : persons become very deaf after hearing
loud noises, and after smelling very strong odours their power
of smelling is impaired ; and similarly in other cases. These
phenomena manifestly take place in the way above described. 2
That the sensory organs are acutely sensitive to even a
slight qualitative difference [in their objects] is shown by
what happens in the case of mirrors ; a subject to which, 25
even taking it independently, one might devote close" con
sideration and inquiry. At the same time it becomes plain
from them that as the eye [in seeing] is affected [by the
object seen], so also it produces a certain effect upon it.
Speculorum enim admodum nitidorum, si forte mulieres
menstruae inspexerint, superficies sanguinea quasi nebula ?,o
offimditur ; et novo quidem spcculo hand facile cst eius-
modi maculam detergerc, veteri autem facilius. Quod fit

1 Kcii . . . iiT(iftti\\oi&gt;(Tti&gt;. Cf. 460* 28-32 (it Kiirtj(T(is &lt;il drro TO&gt;V . . .

yivupevai . . . fativovrm. From this we learn that at here agrees with
Kneads, and that Qaivoirtu (which occurs in the clauses just before and
after) is to be supplied in the sense of In (frmvovToi. p.(T&lt;iftu\\ov&lt;rtv here
cannot be as Mich, takes it= undergo uXXouoo-i? , persistency of impression
after transfer of gaze being the point of the sentence, not /ucruftoX*}
on the part of the /m^o-ft? (as with the colour images just before changing
to their complementaries, negatives, c.). We have had it in this sense
of transfer just above 13, where pcra/SaXco/zep serves as aor. subj. of
fura(j)fpttv b 8. The full construction then would be : *m f dno TO&gt;I&gt; KIVOV-
p.ti&gt;(t)v de \yivoucvai Ktvijirtis (rt (fruivovTui } ptTa&d\\ovo iv (TI^I/ o^nv UTTO
TW Kii&gt;ovp.(va&gt;i&gt;) ou^ KrX. Of course fl copulat, /cm intendit . It is a
matter of indifference for sense or grammar whether after oiov we supply
at, or /ifra/SaXXouo-i. There is no need to suspect the &lt;u as a piece of
dittography after ct in h 18. In 46o b 28 the conclusion of the whole
argument is set forth.

2 i.e. by the persistence of the qualitative change implied in all per
ception.

It is simplest to take n(fi\ ol &lt;/$ I T&lt; with &lt;TKt\l/un&lt;&gt; &lt;a , and understand
of course T;)V dith mnv (or something equivalent) in the usual way with

46oa DE SOMNIIS

propterea quia visus, ut diximus, non modo patitur quippiam,
acre agente, sed etiam facit et agit, id quod debent omnia
quae sunt splendida. Visus enim ipse illorum est quae
splendida sunt et colorem habent. Oculi igitur, ut con-
sentaneum est, eadem qua quaelibet alia pars corporis ratione
5 sc habent; suapte enim natura sunt venosi, 1 unde fit ut, dum
menstrua perturbatione quadam sanguinis et inflammatione
profluunt, oculi mulierum, quamvis nos quidem mares, dum
intuemur, res fugiat (eadem 2 enim seminis quae menstruorum
natura), mutationem subeant : illis autem motus vicinus aer
eum quoque, qui supra speculum continuus diffunditur, aera

10 ncscio qualem reddit, nempe talem qualiscumque iam antea
est ipse redditus ; hie porro superficiem speculi pariter afficit.
Ut enim vestimenta, [sic specula] quo sunt puriora, eo citius
sordescunt. Ouaecunque enim pura sunt, si maculam acce-
perint, aperte ostendunt, et purissimum quidque exhibet vel
minimas turbationes. Aes vero speculare imprimis, propter
levitatem quidem tactum qualemcunque sentit (aeris autem

istactum oportet pro fricationc quadam et quasi expressione
vel ablutione haberi) ; propterea autem quod purum est,
manifeste in eo apparet tactus quantuluscumque. Quod vero
tarde e novis speculis maculae discedunt, id fit quia speculum
eiusmodi Icve et purum est ; namque per talia in altum et

20 omnifariam insinuatur infectus ; in altum quidem propterea
quod pura sunt, omnifariam autem propter levitatem. Contra
in veteribus speculis macula idcirco non residet, quod neque
perinde in ea penetrat, et summa tantummodo attingit.

From this therefore it is plain that stimulatory motion is
set up even by slight differences, and that sense- perception
is quick to respond to it ; and further that the organ which

. 5 perceives colour is not only affected by its object, but also

1 &lt;\e/3o&gt;Seis UVTCS as if (tydaX/iot not o/n/zara had preceded.

2 The object of the parenthetic words is to explain not the eWo-rt, but
the fact that, although cVeort, it escapes our notice. This is due to the
fact that the dXXoiWtr required for perception depends on the presence
of opposites (cp. de An., where the doctrine TTCIO-^CI TO avopotov [VTTO roD
(ivojjioiov] nnt&gt;i&gt;6us OJJLOIOV evTiv is laid down as fundamental). Owing
to the identity of &lt;J&gt;inns here the requisite nro/ioiorf/s does not exist :
hence 17 V rols o^aa-i T&V y. ijfilv (i8rj\os. This seems plain enough ; but
the words in the translation have been so collocated as to exhibit it in
the clearest lis^ht.

CHAPTER II 460 a

reacts upon it. Further evidence to the same point is
afforded by what takes place in wines, and in the manu
facture of unguents. For both oil, when prepared, and
wine become rapidly infected by the odours of the things near
them ; they not only acquire the odours of the things thrown 30
into or mixed with them, but also those of the things which
are placed, or which grow, near the vessels containing them.

In order to answer our original question, let us now,
therefore, assume one proposition, which is clear from what 460 b
precedes, viz. that even when the external object of perception
has departed, the impressions it has made persist, and are
themselves objects of perception ; and [let us assume],
besides, that we are easily deceived respecting the operations
of sense-perception when we are excited by emotions. 1 and
different persons according to their different emotions ; for
example, the coward when excited by fear, the amorous 5
person by amorous desire ; so that, with but little resemblance
to go upon, the former thinks he sees his foes approaching,
the latter, that he sees the object of his desire ; and the more
deeply one is under the influence of the emotion, the less
similarity is required to give rise to these illusory impressions.
Thus too, both in fits of anger, and also in all states of appe
tite, all men become easily deceived, and more so the more their
emotions are excited. This is the reason too why persons
in the delirium of fever sometimes think they see animals
on their chamber walls, an illusion arising from the faint
resemblance to animals of the markings thereon when put
together in patterns ; and this sometimes corresponds with
the emotional states of the sufferers, in such a way that, if the
latter be not very ill, they know well enough that it is an
illusion ; but if the illness is more severe they actually move 15
according to the appearances.- The cause of these occur-

1 fv TT(iB((Tii OVT(S . . . o SfiXdr, KiX. The fieiXos = the person whose
disposition or character inclines him to take fright ; the faftos = the
fright he gets into at any particular time. So with 6 epuriKos and his
(pus. TriWrj here not = passions , as this word is generally understood in
psychological English. See Hoffding (E.T.), p. 282, where passion and
4 emotion are defined. For ndOos x 1 ?, see N.E. iic&gt;5 b 21-26.

2 -npos nvr&lt;i : they regulate their movements with a view to them or
with relation to them : i. e. move away from them or towards them, as if
they were real.

46ob DK SOMNIIS

rences is that the faculty in virtue of which the controlling
sense judges is not identical with that in virtue of which
presentations come before the mind. A proof of this is.
that the sun presents itself as only a foot in diameter,
though often something 1 else gainsays the presentation.

20 Again, when the fingers are crossed, the one object [placed
between them] is felt [by the touch] as two ; but yet we
deny that it is two ; for sight is more authoritative than
touch. Yet, if touch stood alone, we should actually have
pronounced the one object to be two. The ground of such
false judgments is that any appearances whatever present
themselves, not only when its object stimulates a sense,
but also when the sense by itself alone 2 is stimulated,

25 provided only it be stimulated in the same manner :{ as it
is by the object. For example, to persons sailing past
the land seems to move, 4 when it is really the eye that is
being moved by something else [the moving ship].

CHAPTER III

From this it is manifest that the stimulatory movements based

upon sensory impressions, whether the latter are derived from

external objects or from causes within the body, present them-

?,o selves " not only when persons are awake, but also then, when

1 As some senses are more authoritative than others, so TO Kpivov is
more authoritative than TO &lt;aira0TiKoV, and even than any particular
sense. The judgment, which recognizes the superior authority of sight
and makes us say ($an*v) that the objects are not two, but one. is what
Aristotle here wishes to emphasize.

2 Without an object.

:: The importance of this in explaining the illusion of dreams appears
fully in 461 b 28-9.

4 jurcurdru, Kii/oi /zcfqi- are here both used of local movement, while
KIVOVVTO?, KivovfjLttnjf, just above were used of sense-stimulation.

Biehl s text has been translated. eywyo^oTw : we have a gen. absol.
(not a dative after (fraivovrai) because when awake people do not
notice them, although they are there. The claiv supplied by Mich.
in first clause is not necessary. h 29 TO&gt;I&gt; nltrf^ur^v : the impressions
of sense as distinct from the exercises of sense aI&lt;r0T)&lt;Ttts. TO&gt;&gt; Ovpadn
. . . -ruv ( K ror (T. impressions derived from objects in space around
us X impressions of our bodily states, e. g. twinges of pain, &c. aiaBrf
fiuToof agrees with TU&gt;V K(\\ TMV. V.wnopxovaatv in liiehl s text must be wrong,
for we cannot believe in his anacoluthia. The case is not like (ftXefttodas
, 460* 5 ; for there, at least, there is a new sentence, and the subject

is grammatically different. I ut we cannot part with alffBripaTuv here:
nio6i)(Tt&lt;i)v would contradict 459 :l 27 Cm fXdova-atv and 460^ 2 (&lt;iirfA#&lt;Wa&gt;j );

CHAPTER III 460 b

this affection which is called sleep has come upon them, with
even greater 1 impressiveness. For by day, while the senses
and the intellect are working together,- they (i. e. such move
ments) are extruded from consciousness or obscured, just as 461 a
a smaller is beside a larger fire, or as small beside great pains
or pleasures, though, as soon as the latter have ceased, even
those which are trifling emerge into notice. But by night
[i. e. in sleep] owing to the inaction of the particular senses,
and their powerlessness to realize themselves, which arises
from the reflux of the hot from the exterior parts to the 5
interior, they [i. e. the above movements ] are borne in :{ to
the head quarters of sense-perception, and there display them
selves as the disturbance (of waking life) subsides. We must
suppose that, like the little eddies which are being ever formed
in rivers, so the sensory movements are each a continuous
process, often remaining like what they were when first 10
started, but often, too, broken into other forms by collisions
with obstacles. This [last mentioned point], moreover, gives
the reason why no dreams occur in sleep immediately after
meals, or to sleepers who are extremely young, e.g.. to infants.
The internal movement in such cases is excessive, owing to
the heat generated from the food. Hence, just as in a liquid,
if one vehemently disturbs it, sometimes no reflected image 15
appears, while at other times one appears, indeed, but utterly

the doctrine being that dreams are based UTTU TVV at 0-0/; /iui-a&gt;i&gt; or TTO rmv
Kii///afcoj/r&&amp;gt;i/ mV#r?/i&lt;JTa&gt; , the aiffQrpfis of which have departed. Cf. 461* 19
and 462* 30. We should, therefore (in spite of MSS.), read evvTrap\ov(riv t
with Bywater,/. / . xxviii. 243, 46i b 30. Besides it is emphatically not the
but their Ktvi jvds or aiVdq/zara that abide within : cf. 459* 01
\fi (v TOIS al(T0i]TT)piois (vcpyovawv TtO)V ala&i}(T(u)V, XAa xai
Keeping Biehl s text, however, (/&gt;aiVotrat 46o b 32 goes with
the preceding clause also, even without zeugma : for the Kivrja-ets can be
said &lt;paii&gt;(T0(n JyprjyopoTtov = to present themselves u&gt;hcn people are
awake, though they do not (jxtivovrai typrjyopoviv, i.e. appear to or get
noticed by them.

1 Kal p.a\\ov. The trans. even more has the advantage of requiring
fpnivm Tat to be supplied but once, viz. in the &lt;w pwov clause. We
get a perfectly good construction by making *ai the copula, but then must
supply (paivovTdL twice. Besides Ka\pa\\ov=velmagis is a stock expression.

* 1vv(pyovcru&gt;v should be (isfpyovcroiv of which it is an attempted correction
in EMY; (i) it perverts Aristotle s meaning, as the r^-operation of altrB.
and bidvota is not necessary for the extrusion of the Kivfjacis ; (2) Aristotle
nowhere else uses (rwepydv absolutely, nor can we supply here raly
Ktv^(T(nv ; (3) cf. 46 1 a 5, alibi) where (vtpydv is used de re eadem.

3 Karafpepovrm, borne in (to the icvpiov m&lt;r0.) from ra mVtfr/T^pin, in which

46ia DE SOMNIIS

distorted, so as to seem quite unlike its original ; while, when
once the motion has ceased, the reflected images are clear
and plain ; in the same manner during sleep the phantasms,
or residuary movements, which are based upon the sensory
impressions, become sometimes quite obliterated by the

20 above described motion when too violent ; while at other
times the sights are indeed seen, but confused and weird, and
the dreams [which then appear] are unhealthy, like those
of persons who are atrabilious, or feverish, or intoxicated with
wine. For all such affections, being spirituous, cause much
commotion and disturbance. In sanguineous animals, in pro-

25 portion as the blood becomes calm, and as its purer are
separated from its less pure elements, the fact that the
movement, based on impressions derived from each of
the organs of sense, is preserved in its integrity, renders the
dreams healthy, causes a [clear] image to present itself,
and makes the dreamer think, owing to the effects borne in
from the organ of sight, that he actually sees, and owing to
those which come from the organ of hearing, that he really

30 hears ; and so on with those also which proceed from the
other sensory organs. For it is owing to the fact that
the movement which reaches the primary organ of sense
comes from them, that one even when awake believes him-
461 b self to see, or hear, or otherwise perceive ; just as it is from
a belief that the organ of sight is being stimulated, 1 though
in reality not so stimulated, that we sometimes erroneously
declare ourselves to see, or that, from the fact that touch
announces two movements, we think that the one object is
two. For, as a rule, the governing sense affirms the report
of each particular sense, unless another particular sense, more
r authoritative, makes a contradictory report. In every case
an appearance presents itself, but what appears does not in
every case seem real, unless when the deciding faculty is
inhibited, or does not move with its proper motion. More
over, as we said that different men are subject to illusions,
each according to the different emotion present in him, so it is
that the sleeper, owing to sleep, and to the movements then
going on in his sensory organs, as well as to the other facts

1 By objective visual impressions.

CHAPTER III 46ib

of the sensory process, [is liable to illusion], so that the 10
dream presentation, though but little like it, appears as some
actual given thing. For when one is asleep, in proportion as
most of the blood sinks inwards to its fountain [the heart],
the internal [sensory] movements, some potential, others
actual l accompany it inwards. They are so related [in
general] that, if anything move the blood, some one
sensory movement will emerge from it, while if this perishes
another will take its place; while to one another also they ,-
are related in the same way as the artificial frogs in water
which severally rise [in fixed succession] to the surface in the
order in which the salt [which keeps them down] becomes
dissolved. The residuary movements are like these : they arc
within the soul potentially, but actualize themselves only
when the impediment to their doing so has been relaxed ;
and according as 2 they are thus set free, they begin to move
in the blood which remains in the sensory organs, and which
is now but scanty/ while they possess verisimilitude after the
manner of cloud-shapes, which in their rapid metamorphoses --o
one compares now to human beings and a moment afterwards
to centaurs. Each of them is however, as has been said, the
remnant of a sensory impression taken when sense was
actualizing itself; and when this, the true impression, 4 has
departed, its remnant is still immanent, and it is correct to say
of it, that though not actually Koriskos, it is like Koriskos.
For 5 when the person was actually perceiving, his controlling 25

1 The actual are those in consciousness at the time when one is falling
asleep : the potential, those which had before that subsided into latency.
Cf. 46i a I.

2 Xi/d^ei/nt : i. e. successively and severally : pres. part, has its force
(all through these tracts such points are most carefully observed).

3 The most favourable condition, disturbance being at its minimum.

carefully distinguished from TO alaBrma the impression merely, when
the aia-fftjrov is gone.

5 Mich, explains & as = yap. rightly ; for the 6/^oioVf;f of the uTroXet/x^a
is derived from that of the d\i)d(s aio-QrjfjLa. But he is wrong when he
makes ore y&lt;r6m&gt;tTO = ore tv TCO VTTVU) ov KaTfi ^ero VTTO roO m/xnrof. The
past tense might have warned him against doing so. Both this and
the av p} navT(\a&gt;s refer to what happens in waking and normal
consciousness. The detection of a dream as such in sleep is men
tioned below (462* 3) as an exceptional occurrence, and not part of the
dream proper ; to introduce it here would only confuse, not illustrate

46ib DE SOMNIIS

and judging sensory faculty did not call it ^ Koriskos. but,
prompted by this [impression], called the genuine person
yonder Koriskos. Accordingly, this sensory impulse, which,
when actually perceiving, it [the controlling faculty] so
describes (unless completely inhibited by the blood), it
now [in dreams], when quasi-perceiving. - receives from
the movements persisting in the sense-organs, and mistakes
it an impulse that is merely like the true 15 [objective]
impression for the true impression itself, while the effect
o of sleep is so great that it causes this mistake to pass
unnoticed. Accordingly, just as if a finger be inserted
beneath the eyeball without being observed, one object will

as Aristotle means to do. Mich, is right, however, in making ov ft?)
. . . alfJMTOs bt]\a&gt;TiK&lt;&gt;v TOV oTf 8t ^ar0avfTo. Biehl, in stating that Mich,
read ///} after a&gt;o-7r*/&gt;, b 27, makes a mistake. Wendland s (Mich., p. 73.
12) note is u&gt;&lt;nvt p cum Arist. EMSUY (axr^ep pt} L). See next
note but one.

5 The impression synchronous with actual perception.

2 tofTTrqj aurQavdpfvov. In the translation the text of Biehl has not been
followed. The retention (with Biehl, after L) of py after o)(rntp b 27, or its
omission (with Mich, and EMYSU), makes a great difference. It ought to
be omitted : wo-nep nt(T0avofj.tvov is in sense opposed to KU\ wafiavofjuvov b 26,
and to oVf ^V^&lt;n 6ro b 24, as the dreaming to the waking consciousness. \Yhen
one was actually percipient, the Kvpiov did not confound even TO mo-fl^ci TO
u\r)6fs with Ko/x o-jcoff n uXrjQivns, nor does it when actually percipient ever
do so unless under some pathological condition ; yet (see 460 b 25) in the
quasi-percipient state of sleep, when not perceiving TO aio-tfrj/ia TO aAqde r
at all, but only its MAtc/ipi. it is moved with this same movement (TOUTO
Kivdrai, cf. 463 b 1 8 1, and made to treat this (the wroAetyi/ua) not only as
if it were TO d\t]6fs mo-d^/ia, but as if it were a real thing. After ma6rjTrj-
piois b 29 there should be only a comma. The waking aio-^/na is only olov
Ko/n o-KOf, not actually K. The remanent ruo-$/7/na too is, but only in a
secondary degree, oioi/ K. Vet so great is the power of sleep that the
critical faculty, which in waking moments (unless inhibited completely)
docs not mistake even the genuine mvd^a for its object, when asleep
confounds distinctions, and mistaking the remanent ala-drj^a for the object,
is unaware of this mistake.

b 29, nuToi with op.oi&lt;iv. ii\r,6(s here and above is to be kept distinct
from (iXrjdivns, as truthful from genuine , according to the usual
meanings of these words. 6 a\r)0ivb$ K. = the genuine Koriskos : TO
(iXtjOts aiffBrj^a = the impression which tells truth, i. e. the immediate
impression of K. yonder, as distinct from the vTroXci^a, which speaks of
him as if there when he is not there. Hence it is that d\rj0(s and avro)
should not be referred to the external thing. Two degrees of error
(whence the strong expression TOOCIVTTJ 17 Swapis) are usual in dreams :

(.7) the ai(r6r)p.a TO vnoXourov is Confounded with TO madrj^n TO dXrjOes ;
(b) no distinction is drawn between TO nurtfq/ja TO d\i]6(s and TO irpayfu
TO d\T)6iv(&gt;v. This fine analysis is (or may have been) founded on Plato,
Republic, 4?6 C TO 6vflpd&gt;TTiv upd ov To^e eo"Tt r, ttiv T( (V vnva&gt; TIS tiiv T
tos TO o^ioiov TCO ^i^ op.otov &lt;iAA ai To fjyrjTnt civai (*&gt; totKfV |

CHAPTER III 462a

not only present two visual images, but will create an opinion
of its being two objects ; while if it [the finger] be observed, the
presentation will be the same, but the same opinion will not
be formed of it ; exactly so it is in states of sleep : if the
sleeper perceives that he is asleep, and is conscious of
the sleeping state during which the perception comes before
his mind, it presents itself still, but something within him ?
speaks to this effect : the image of Koriskos presents itself,
but the real Koriskos is not present ; for often, when one is
asleep, there is something in consciousness which declares
that what then presents itself is but a dream. If, however,
he is not aware of being asleep, there is nothing which will
contradict the testimony of the bare presentation.

That what we here urge is true, i.e. that there are such
presentative movements in the sensory organs, any one may
convince himself, if he attends to and tries to remember the i
affections we experience when sinking into slumber or when
being awakened. He will sometimes, in the moment of
awakening, surprise the images which present themselves to
him in sleep, and find that they are really but movements
lurking in the organs of sense. And indeed some very young
persons, if it is dark, though looking with wide open eyes, 1
see multitudes of phantom figures moving before them, so that
they often cover up their heads in terror.

From all this, then, the conclusion to be drawn is, that the 15
dream is a sort of presentation, and, more particularly, one
which occurs in sleep; since the phantoms just mentioned
are not dreams, nor is any other a dream which presents
itself when the sense-perceptions are in a state of freedom.
Nor is every presentation which occurs in sleep necessarily
a dream. For in the first place, some persons [when asleep]
actually, in a certain way, perceive sounds, light, savour, and 20
contact ; feebly, however, and, as it were, remotely. For
there have been cases in which persons while asleep, but with
the eyes partly open, saw faintly in their sleep (as they
supposed) the light of a lamp, and afterwards, on being
awakened, straightway recognized it as the actual light of
a real lamp ; while, in other cases, persons who faintly heard

1 8uift\(7roi&gt;T(s x viroftXtnovrts, 462** 22.

-AK PX 1 1

462 a DE SOMNI1S

25 the crowing of cocks or the barking of dogs identified these
clearly with the real sounds as soon as they awoke. Some
persons, too, return answers to questions put to them in sleep.
For it is quite possible that, of waking or sleeping, while the
one is present in the ordinary sense, the other also should be
present in a certain way. But none of these occurrences 1
should be called a dream. Nor should the true thoughts, 2
as distinct from the mere presentations, which occur in sleep [be
called dreams]. The dream proper is a presentation based

30 on the movement of sense impressions, when such presentation
occurs during sleep, taking sleep in the strict sense of the
term.

There are cases of persons who in their whole lives have
462 b never had a dream, while others dream when considerably
advanced in years, having never dreamed before. The cause
of their not having dreams appears somewhat like that which
operates in the case of infants, and [that which operates]
immediately after meals. It is intelligible enough that no
5 dream-presentation should occur to persons whose natural
constitution is such that in them copious evaporation is
borne upwards, which, 3 when borne back downwards, causes a
large quantity of motion. But it is not surprising that, as age
advances, a dream should at length appear to them. Indeed,

10 it is inevitable that, as a change is wrought 4 in them in
proportion to age or emotional experience, this reversal
[from non-dreaming to dreaming] should occur also.

1 Those due to this ambiguous condition.

2 aXq&is cwoim : e. g. when one says to himself this is only a dream .
Cf. supra 462* 6.

s Reading 7) ... Kara^pofitvr) noicl with I S U and Themistius. Biehl s
text is wrong, for it implies that the upward movement of the apadi&gt;/it a&lt;m
causes sleep. Cf. supra 456 b 26-8.

4 If we keep yivopfvijf (which suits KU& f]\tKiai ) we must give it its
continuative or progressive sense. This progressive change keeps pace
with their change of age, and with the succession of (or vicissitudes of) n&lt;i0r)
which they experience. Kara mi6os does not mean in consequence of
something that has happened to them , or in consequence of some one
emotion.

DE DIVINATIONE PER SOMNUM 46* b

CHAPTER I

As to the divination which takes place in sleep, and is said
to be based on dreams, we cannot lightly either dismiss it with
contempt or give it implicit confidence. The fact that all per
sons, or many, suppose dreams to possess a special significance,
tends to inspire us with belief in it [such divination], as founded i;
on the testimony of experience ; and indeed that divination in
dreams should, as regards some subjects, be genuine, is not
incredible, for it has a show of reason ; from which one might
form a like opinion also respecting all other dreams. Yet the
fact of our seeing no probable cause to account for such
divination tends to inspire us with distrust. For, in addition to 20
its further unreasonableness, it is absurd to combine 1 the idea
that the sender of such dreams should be God with the fact
that those to whom he sends them are not the best and wisest,
but merely commonplace persons. If, however, we abstract
from the causality of God, none of the other causes assigned
appears probable. For that certain persons should have fore
sight in dreams concerning things destined to take place at the
Pillars of Hercules, or on the banks of the Borysthenes, seems ;;
to be something to discover the explanation of which surpasses
the wit of man. Well then, the dreams in question must be
regarded either as causes, or as tokens, of the events, or else as
coincidences ; either as all, or some, of these, or as one only.
I use the word cause in the sense in which the moon is

1 b 20-22. Bichl s comma after iri^novra is wrong, unless another
comma be put after dXoyi a. The clause npus 77; a\\Tj tiXoyui, which is
parenthetic, refers to the abandonment of reason already noticed in
pt)dcpiav atYmv (v\oyov just before. Besides the general a\oyia of referring
dreams to u 6c6s, there is the special uronia of his sending them to poor
creatures, not to wise men (cf. 463 b 15). The constr. is : TO r* ... tlvm
KO.I TO ... n-fnTTfiv it is the conjunction of the two things that is peculiarly
UTOTTOI/. Thus TC and /cm are in their usual correlation here.

II 2

462 b DE DIVINATIONE PER SOMNUM

[the cause] of an eclipse of the sun, or in which fatigue is
30 [a cause] of fever ; token [in the sense in which] the entrance
of a l star [into the shadow] is a token of the eclipse, or [in
which] roughness of the tongue [is a token] of fever ; while
by coincidence I mean, for example, the occurrence of an
eclipse of the sun while some one is taking a walk ; for the

463 a walking is neither a token nor a cause of the eclipse, nor

the eclipse [a cause or token] of the walking. For this
reason no coincidence takes place according to a universal
or general rule. Are we then to say that some dreams
are causes, others tokens, e. g. of events taking place in the
bodily organism ? At all events, even scientific physicians tell
5 us that one should pay diligent attention to dreams, and to
hold this view is reasonable also for those who are not
practitioners, but speculative philosophers. Eor the move
ments which occur in the daytime [within the body] are,
unless very great and violent, lost sight of in contrast with the

10 waking movements, which are more impressive. In sleep the
opposite takes place, for then even trifling movements seem
considerable. This is plain in what often happens during sleep ;
for example, dreamers fancy that they are affected by thunder
and lightning, when in fact there are only faint ringings in their
cars ; or that they are enjoying honey or other sweet savours,
when only a tiny drop of phlegm is flowing down [the

15 oesophagus] ; or that they are walking through fire, and
feeling intense heat, when there is only a slight warmth
affecting certain parts of the body. When they are awakened,
these things appear to them in this their true character.
But since the beginnings of all events are small, so, it is
clear, are those also of the diseases or other affections about

20 to occur in our bodies. In conclusion, it is manifest that these
beginnings must be more evident in sleeping than in waking
moments.

Nay, indeed, it is not improbable that some of the presenta
tions which come before the mind in sleep may even be

1 TUV (\(TT(pa = a star or any star : the star that does show out, whatever
star it be. The article is generic. The eta-- not = * into our view but =
into the shadow, when however, of course, it also comes into our view.
Bonitz, Ind. t queries t*j(\6&lt;1v here : why ? The first star we see
betokens the coming eclipse.

CHAPTER I 463 a

causes of the actions cognate to each of them. For as when
we are about to act [in waking hours], or are engaged in any
course of action, or have already performed certain actions,
we often find ourselves concerned with these actions, or per- 25
forming them, in a vivid dream ; the cause whereof is that
the dream- movement has had a way paved for it from the
original movements set up in the daytime ; exactly so, but
conversely, it must happen that the movements set up
first in sleep should also prove to be starting-points of actions
to be performed in the daytime, since the recurrence by day
of the thought of these actions also has had its way paved for
it in the images before the mind at night. Thus then it is 3^
quite conceivable that some dreams may be tokens and causes
[of future events].

Most [so-called prophetic] dreams are, however, to be
classed as mere coincidences, especially all such as are ex- 463 b
travagant, and those in the fulfilment of which the dreamers
have no initiative, such as in the case of a sea-fight, or of things
taking place far away. As regards these it is natural that the
fact should stand as it does whenever a person, on mentioning
something, finds the very thing mentioned come to pass. Why, 5
indeed, should this not happen also in sleep? The proba
bility is, rather, that many such things should happen. As,
then, one s mentioning a particular person is neither token
nor cause of this person s presenting himself, so, in the parallel
instance, the dream is, to him who has seen it, neither token
nor cause of its [so-called] fulfilment, but a mere coincidence.
Hence the fact that many dreams have no fulfilment , for
coincidences do not occur according to any universal or 10
general law.

CHAPTER II

On the whole, forasmuch as certain of the lower animals also
dream, it may be concluded that dreams are not sent by God,
nor are they designed for this purpose [to reveal the future].
They have a divine aspect, 1 however, for Nature [their cause]

fifVToi, / yap^ixris daipovtu, aXX ov 6da. Bonitz (Illd. 464* 28)
followed by L. and S. (sub voc. daipovios) explains 0iVts&gt; here as 17 TWV
vvis. Zeller, Arist. i. 421 (E. T.) takes the right view.

463 b DE DIVINATIONE PER SOMXUM

! 5 is divinely planned, though not itself divine. A special proof
[of their not being sent by God] is this : the power of fore
seeing the future and of having vivid dreams is found in
persons of inferior type, which implies that God does not
send their dreams ; but merely that all those whose physical
temperament is, as it were, garrulous and excitable, see:
sights of all descriptions ; for, inasmuch as they experience
many movements of every kind, they just chance to have
visions resembling objective facts, their luck in these matters

30 being merely like that of persons who play at even and odd. 1
For the principle which is expressed in the gambler s maxim :
If you make many throws your luck must change, holds
good in their case also.

That many dreams have no fulfilment is not strange, for
it is so too with many bodily symptoms and weather-signs,

25 c. g., those of rain or wind. For if another movement occurs
more influential than that from which, while [the event to which
it pointed was] still future, the given token was derived, the
event [to which such token pointed] does not take place. So.
of the things which ought to be accomplished by human agency,
many, though well-planned, are by the operation of other prin
ciples more powerful [than man s agency] brought to nought.
For, speaking generally, that which was about to happen is not
in every case what now is happening : nor is that which shall
hereafter be identical with that which is now going to be.

30 Still, however, we must hold that the beginnings from
which, as we said,- no consummation follows, are real begin
nings, and these constitute natural tokens of certain events,
even though the events do not come to pass.

As for [prophetic] dreams which involve not such beginnings
[sc. of future events] as we have here described, but such as
are extravagant in times, or places, or magnitudes : or those

If (/mm were to be thus limited we should have had &lt;wru&gt;v. Nature in
general is bai^ovid as the province and theatre of God s final causation,
and dreams (which are fyvviKii} partake of the character of Nature their
cause. The general difference between 6is and Sm^i/, $elo? and dot/iowpiy
(that the 5m)ia&gt;j/ is the offspring of the #*&lt;&gt;$, the Saipnviov the handiwork of
the dftov) is here preserved.

1 Reading dprt&lt;i(ovT(s, Bekker s conj.

OVK Tf\t&lt;r6r} : such is the force of the aor. For meaning of TIVI IS cf.
notes 440* 28.

CHAPTER II 464 a

involving beginnings which arc not extravagant in any of
these respects, 1 while yet the persons who see the dream
hold not in their own hands the beginnings [of the event
to which it points] : unless the foresight which such dreams
give is the result of pure coincidence, the following
would be a better explanation of it than that pro
posed by Democritus, who alleges images and emana- 5
tions as its cause. As, when something has caused
motion in water or air, this [the portion moved] moves
another [portion of water or air], and, though the cause has
ceased to operate, such motion propagates itself to a certain
point, though there the prime movent is not present ; just so
it may well be that a movement and a consequent sense-per
ception should reach sleeping souls from the objects from which 10
Democritus represents images and * emanations as coming ;
that such movements, in whatever way they arrive, should be
more perceptible at night [than by day], because when pro
ceeding thus in the daytime they are more liable to dissolu
tion (since at night the air is less disturbed, there being then
less wind); and that they shall be perceived within the body 15
owing to sleep, since persons are more sensitive even to slight
sensory movements when asleep than when awake. It is
these movements then that cause presentations , as a result
of which sleepers foresee the future even relatively to such
events as those referred 2 to above. These considerations
also explain why this experience befalls commonplace persons 20
and not the most intelligent. For it would have regularly oc
curred both in the daytime and to the wise had it been God
who sent it ; but, as we have explained the matter, it is quite
natural that commonplace persons should be those who have
foresight [in dreams]. For the mind of such persons is not
given to thinking, but, as it were, derelict, or totally vacant,
and. when once set moving, is borne passively on in the direc
tion taken by that which moves it. With regard to the fact
that some persons who are liable to derangement have this j-j

2. ) TOVTOV p.ti&gt; p.ijtv . SC. vTTfpnpas TUS ap\ay e
Mr;S&lt;?f is acc. of respect after vnepopias understood from the previous
clause. Perhaps /zr/5eW would have been plainer : but the construction
is easy enough. Biehl by his proposed correction avrols . . . rols Iftovm
would seem to construe as if /zqfieV depended on e^oi/rwi/ directly.
i. e. those referred to 464* I 4.

464 a DE DIVINATIONE PER SOMNUM

foresight, its explanation is that their normal mental move
ments do not impede [the alien movements], but arc beaten
off by the latter. Therefore it is that they have an especially
keen perception of the alien movements.

That certain persons in particular should have vivid
dreams, e. g. that familiar friends should thus have foresight
in a special degree respecting one another, is due to the fact
that such friends are most solicitous on one another s behalf.

30 For as acquaintances in particular recognize and perceive one
another a long way off, so also they do as regards the sensory
movements respecting one another ; for sensory movements
which refer to persons familiarly known are themselves more
familiar. Atrabilious persons, owing to their impetuosity, 1 are,
when they, as it were, shoot from a distance, expert at hitting ;
464 b while, owing to their mutability, the series of movements
deploys quickly before their minds. For even as the insane
recite, or con over in thought, the poems of Philaegides,- e. g.
the Aphrodite, whose parts succeed in order of similitude, just
so do they [the atrabilious ] go on and on stringing sensory
movements together. Moreover, owing to their aforesaid
5 impetuosity, one movement within them is not liable to be
knocked out of its course by some other movement.

The most skilful interpreter of dreams is he who has the
faculty of observing resemblances. Any one may interpret
dreams which are vivid and plain. But, speaking of resem
blances , I mean that dream presentations are analogous to
the forms reflected in water, as indeed we have already stated.

10 In the latter case, if the motion in the water be great, the
reflexion has no resemblance to its original, nor do the forms
resemble the real objects. Skilful, indeed, would he be in
interpreting such reflexions who could rapidly discern, and at
a glance comprehend, the scattered and distorted fragments

1 Which do not suffer them to wait until the object of their speculation
is near them.

2 Probably should be Qi\mvidos, a name found in Lucian, rseudologista^
24, and Athenaeus 335 B-E. But what were the poems referred to ?
Did they go on like The House that Jack built ? Ath. and Luc.
do not help to explain the point here, and Mich, and Pseudo-Them. add
nothing to what our passage yields. Michael only contrasts the desultory
manner of Euripides with the consistency of Philaegides in keeping to
a theme.

CHAPTER II 464 b

of such forms, so as to perceive that one of them represents
a man, or a horse, or anything whatever. Accordingly, in the 15
other case also, in a similar way, some such thing as this
[blurred image] is all that a dream amounts T to ; for the
internal movement effaces the clearness of the dream.

The questions, therefore, which we proposed as to the nature
of sleep and the dream, and the cause to which each of them
is due, and also as to divination as a result of dreams, in every
form of it, have now been discussed.

1 1( 15. The troubled dream has this effect , SiVarm roCro. The KOMI
prevents us from taking TOVTO with TO evvirvmv = * the dream we speak of
has a certain effect. To explain n it is necessary, after Kiehl s conjecture,
to read roioOro. There is no analogy for TOVTO TL : TOOC TI is a totally different
kind of expression. But roiotro n would be not only correct, but quite to
the point here. Not rt, but TTCOS, should qualify o/zo:W.

464bl)E LONGITUDINE ET BREVITATE YITAE

CHAPTER I

THE reasons for some animals being long-lived and others
,-o short-lived, and. in a word, the causes of the length and
brevity of life call for investigation.

The necessary beginning to our inquiry is a statement of
the difficulties about these points. For it is not clear whether
in animals and plants universally it is a single or diverse
cause that makes some to be long-lived, others short-lived.
5 Plants too have in some cases a long life, while in others it
lasts but for a year.

Further, in a natural structure are longevity and a sound
constitution coincident, or is shortness of life independent of
unhealthiness ? Perhaps in the case of certain maladies a
diseased state of the body and shortness of life are inter-
;,o changeable, while in the case of others ill-health is perfectly
compatible with Jong life.

Of sleep and waking we have already treated ; about life
and death we shall speak later on, and likewise about health
and disease, in so far as it belongs to the science of nature
465 a to do so. But at present we have to investigate the causes of
some creatures being long-lived, others short-lived. We
find this distinction affecting not only entire genera opposed
as wholes to one another, but applying also to contrasted sets l
of individuals within the same species.- As an instance of

1 See next sentence, sub Jin.

~ Aristotle does not mention the opposition of species to species, but
passes at once from the maximum of difference (generic) to the minimum
&lt; individual). In the next sentence, however, we have a case of specific
diversity (man and horse). It is strange for him to say that the difference
of man and horse in longevity is a difference Kara -yeVos, and that between
man and man (who must be individuals (&lt; iv ddos) *ar dtios. Unless
we translate in the fashion I have adopted we must believe that there is
a confusion in the first sentence between yevos and 6toy, and that when
in the second he does distinguish between them Aristotle contradicts the
rest of his teaching.

CHAPTER I 465 a

the difference applying to the genus I give man and horse 5
(for mankind has a longer life than the horse), while within
the species there is the difference between man and man ; for
of men also some are long-lived, others short-lived, differing
from each other in respect of the different regions in which
they dwell. Races inhabiting warm countries have longer
life, those living in a cold climate live a shorter time. Like- 10
wise there are similar differences among individuals occupying
the same locality.

CHAPTER II

In order to find premisses for our argument, we must
answer the question, What is that which, in natural objects,
makes them easily destroyed, or the reverse ? Since fire
and water, and whatsoever is akin thereto, do not possess J5
identical powers they are reciprocal causes of generation and
decay. Hence it is natural to infer that everything else
arising from them and composed of them should share in the
same nature, in all cases where things are not, like a house,
a composite unity formed by the synthesis of many things.

In other matters a different account must be given ; for
in many things their mode of dissolution is something
peculiar to themselves, e. g. in knowledge and health and 20
disease. These pass away even though the medium in
which they are found is not destroyed but continues to
exist ; for example, take the termination of ignorance, which
is recollection or learning, while knowledge passes away into
forget fulness, or error. But accidentally the disintegration of
a natural object is accompanied by the destruction of the
non-physical reality : for. when the animal dies, the health 25
or knowledge resident in it passes away too. Hence from
these considerations we may draw a conclusion about the
soul too ; for. if the inherence of soul in body is not a matter
of nature but like that of knowledge in the soul, there would
be another mode of dissolution pertaining to it besides that
which occurs when the body is destroyed. But since evidently 30
it does not admit of this dual dissolution, the soul must stand
in a different case in respect of its union with the body.

DK LONGITUDINE ET BREVITATE VITAE

CHAPTER III

Perhaps one might reasonably raise the question whether
there is any place where what is corruptible becomes incor
ruptible, as fire does in the upper regions where it meets
with no opposite. Opposites destroy each other, and hence
5 accidentally, by their destruction, whatsoever is attributed to
them is destroyed. But no opposite in a real substance is
accidentally destroyed, because real substance is not predi
cated of any subject. Hence a thing which has no opposite,
or which is situated where it has no opposite, cannot be
destroyed. For what will that be which can destroy it, if
destruction comes only through contraries, but no contrary to

10 it exists cither absolutely or in the particular place where it
is ? But perhaps this is in one sense true, in another sense
not true, for it is impossible that anything containing matter
should not have in any sense an opposite. Heat and
straightness can be present in every part of a thing, but it is
impossible that the thing should be nothing but hot or white
or straight ; for, if that were so, attributes would have an

15 independent existence. Hence if, in all cases, whenever the
active and the passive exist together, the one acts and the
other is acted on, it is impossible that no change should occur.
Further, this is so if a waste product is an opposite, and waste
must always be produced ; for opposition is always the source
of change, and refuse is what remains of the previous opposite.
But, after expelling everything of a nature actually opposed,
would an object in this case also be imperishable ? No, it

jo would be destroyed by the environment.

If then that is so, what we have said sufficiently accounts
for the change ; but. if not, we must assume that something
of actually opposite character is in the changing object, and
refuse is produced.

Hence accidentally a lesser flame is consumed by a greater

25 one, for the nutriment 1 , to wit the smoke, which the former
takes a long period to expend, is used up by the big flame
quickly.

1 Read i}i/ rpofyrjv with Bywater, Journal of Philol. xxviii. p. 243,
instead of Biehl s 17 rpo^i? rjv. This obviates the necessity of treating
TOV KUTTVOV as a gloss.

CHAPTER III 465 b

Hence [too] all things are at all times in a state of
transition and are coming into being and passing away.
The environment acts on them either favourably or antago
nistically, and, owing to this, things that change their
situation become more or less enduring than their nature
warrants, but never are they eternal when they contain con
trary qualities; for their matter is an immediate source of 3
contrariety, so that if it involves locality they show change of
situation, if quantity, increase and diminution, while if it
involves qualitative affection we find alteration of character.

CHAPTER IV

We find that a superior immunity from decay attaches 466 a
neither to the largest animals (the horse has shorter life
than man) nor to those that are small (for most insects
live but for a year). Nor are plants as a whole less
liable to perish than animals (many plants are annuals),
nor have sanguineous animals the pre-eminence (for the bee
is longer-lived than certain sanguineous animals). Neither 5
is it the bloodless animals that live longest (for molluscs
live only a year, though bloodless), nor terrestrial organisms
(there are both plants and terrestrial animals of which a
single year is the period), nor the occupants of the sea
(for there we find the crustaceans and the molluscs, which
are short-lived).

Speaking generally, the longest-lived things occur among
the plants, e.g. the date-palm. Next in order we find 10
them among the sanguineous animals rather than among the
bloodless, and among those with feet rather than among the
denizens of the water. Hence, taking these two characters
together, the longest-lived animals fall among sanguineous
animals which have feet, e. g. man and elephant. As a
matter of fact also it is a general rule that the larger
live longer than the smaller, for the other long-lived animals i.;
too happen to be of a large size, as are also those I have
mentioned.

CHAPTER V

The following considerations may enable us to understand
the reasons for all these facts. We must remember that an

466 a DE LONGITUDINE ET BREVITATE VITAE

20 animal is by nature humid and warm, and to live is to be of
such a constitution, while old age is dry and cold, and so is
a corpse. This is plain to observation. But the material con
stituting the bodies of all things l consists of the following
the hot and the cold, the dry and the moist. Hence when they
age they must become dry, and therefore the fluid in them
requires to be not easily dried up. Thus we explain why
fat things are not liable to decay. The reason is that they
contain air ; now air relatively to the other elements is fire,

25 and fire never becomes corrupted.

Again the humid element in animals must not be small in
quantity, for a small quantity is easily dried up. This is why
both plants and animals that are large are, as a general rule,
longer-lived than the rest, as was said before ; it is to be
expected that the larger should contain more moisture. But
it is not merely this that makes them longer lived ; for the

30 cause is twofold, to wit. the quality as well as the quantity
of the fluid. Hence the moisture must be not only great in
amount but also warm, in order to be neither easily congealed
nor easily dried up.

It is for this reason also that man lives longer than some

animals which are larger ; for animals live longer though there

466 b is a deficiency in the amount of their moisture, if the ratio of

its qualitative superiority exceeds that of its quantitative

deficiency.

In some creatures the warm element is their fatty substance,
which prevents at once desiccation and congelation ; but in
others it assumes a different flavour. 2 Eurther, that which is
; designed to be not easily destroyed should not yield waste
products. Anything of such a nature causes death either
by disease or naturally, for the potency of the waste product
works adversely and destroys now the entire constitution,
now a particular member.

This is why salacious animals and those abounding in seed

1 I thus translate ro ts ovin (Biehl). Bywater suggests TOIOVTOIS instead
of ouo-t (Journal of Philol. xxviii. p. 244). If this conjecture is adopted
the translation will be In such cases the material of which the body is
composed consists, &c.

2 TO Xnrupvv is one of the recognized flavours ;" c/."V& Sens.] chdp. iv.
442" 17 sqq.

CHAPTER V 466 b

age quickly ; the seed is a residue, and further, by being lost,
it produces dryness. Hence the mule lives longer than either
the horse or the ass from which it sprang, and females live I0
longer than males if the males are salacious. Accordingly
cock-sparrows have a shorter life than the females. Again
males subject to great toil are short-lived and age more
quickly owing to the labour ; toil produces dryness and
old age is dry. But by natural constitution and as a general
rule males live longer than females, and the reason is that 15
the male is an animal with more warmth than the female.

The same kind of animals are longer-lived in warm than in
cold climates for the same reason, on account of which they
are of larger size. The size of animals of cold constitution
illustrates this particularly well, and hence snakes and lizards -&gt;o
and scaly reptiles are of great size in warm localities, as also
are testacea in the Red Sea : the warm humidity there is the
cause equally of their augmented size and of their life. But
in cold countries the humidity in animals is more of a watery
nature, and hence is readily congealed. Consequently it
happens that animals with little or no blood are in northerly ^5
regions either entirely absent (both the land animals with feet
and the water creatures whose home is the sea) or, when they
do occur, they are smaller and have shorter life ; for the frost
prevents growth.

Both plants and animals perish if not fed, for in that case
they consume themselves; just as a large flame consumes &
and burns up a small one by using up its nutriment, so the
natural warmth which is the primary cause of digestion
consumes the material in which it is located.

Water animals have a shorter life than terrestrial creatures,
not strictly because they are humid, but because they are 4^7 a
watery, and watery moisture is easily destroyed, since it is
cold and readily congealed. For the same reason bloodless
animals perish readily unless protected by great size, for there
is neither fatness nor sweetness about them. In animals fat
is sweet, and hence bees are longer-lived than other animals 5
of larger size.

&lt;6 7 a DE LONGITUDINE ET BREVITATE VITAE

CHAPTER VI

It is amongst the plants that we find the longest life-
more than among the animals, for, in the first place, they are
less watery and hence less easily frozen. Further they have
an oiliness and a viscosity which makes them retain their
moisture in a form not easily dried up, even though they are
dry and earthy.

10 But we must discover the reason why trees are of an endur
ing constitution, for it is peculiar to them and is not found
in any animals except the insects.

Plants continually renew themselves and hence last for
a long time. New shoots continually come and the others
grow old, and with the roots the same thing happens. But
both processes do not occur together. Rather it happens

*5 that at one time the trunk and the branches alone die and
new ones grow up beside them, and it is only when this has
taken place that the fresh roots spring from the surviving
part. Thus it continues, one part dying and the other grow
ing, and hence also it lives a long time.

There is a similarity, as has been already said, between
plants and insects, for they live, though divided, and two

20 or more may be derived from a single one. Insects, how
ever, though managing to live, are not able to do so long,
for they do not possess organs ; nor can the principle resident
in each of the separated parts create organs. In the case of
a plant, however, it can do so ; every part of a plant contains
potentially both root and stem. Hence it is from this source
that issues that continued growth when one part is renewed

- 5 and the other grows old ; it is practically a case of longevity. 1
The taking of slips furnishes a similar instance, for we might
say that, in a way, when we take a slip the same thing
happens ; the shoot cut off is part of the plant. Thus in
taking slips this perpetuation of life occurs though their
connexion with the plant is severed, but in the former case it
is the continuity that is operative. The reason is that the

30 life principle potentially belonging to them is present in
every part.

1 raj MSS. (except. S. roj et edd. TOV conicio.

CHAPTER VI 467 a

Identical phenomena are found both in plants and in
animals. For in animals the males are, in general, the longer-
lived. They have their upper parts larger than the lower
(the male is more of the dwarf 1 type of build than the
female), and it is in the upper part that warmth resides, in
the lower cold. In plants also those with great heads are
longer-lived, and such are those that are not annual but of the 467 b
tree-type, for the roots arc the head and upper part of
a plant, and among the annuals growth occurs in the direc
tion of their lower parts and the fruit.

These matters however will be specially investigated in the
work On Plants. - But this is our account of the reasons 5
for the duration of life and for short life in animals. It
remains for us to discuss youth and age, and life and death.
To come to a definite understanding about these matters
would complete our course of study on animals.

1 i.e. with trunk and head disproportionately lar&lt;;e.

2 Not extant.

4 6 7 b DE IUVENTUTE ET SENECTUTE, DE
VITA ET MORTE, DE RESPIRATIONE

CHAPTER I

10 WE must now treat of youth and old age and life and
death. We must probably also at the same time state the
causes of respiration as well, since in some cases living and
the reverse depend on this.

We have elsewhere given a precise account of the soul, and
while it is clear that its essential reality cannot be corporeal,

15 yet manifestly it must exist in some bodily part which must
be one of those possessing control over the members. Let
us for the present set aside the other divisions or faculties of
the soul (whichever of the two be the correct name). But
as to being what is called an animal and a living thing, we
find that in all beings endowed with both characteristics

20 (viz. being an animal and being alive) there must be a single
identical part in virtue of which they live and are called
animals ; for an animal qua animal cannot avoid being alive.
But a thing need not, though alive, be animal, for plants live
without having sensation, and it is by sensation that we

25 distinguish animal from what is not animal.

This organ, then, must be numerically one and the same
and yet possess multiple and disparate aspects, for being
animal and living are not identical. Since then the organs
of special sensation have one common organ in which the

30 senses when functioning must meet, and this must be situated
midway between what is called before and behind (we call
before the direction from which sensation comes, * behind
the opposite), further, since in all living things the body is
divided into upper and lower (they all have upper and lower
parts, so that this is true of plants as well), clearly the nutri-
468 a tive principle must be situated midway between these regions.
That part where food enters we call upper, considering it by

CHAPTER I 468 a

itself and not relatively to the surrounding universe, while
downward is that part by which the primary excrement 1 is
discharged.

Plants are the reverse of animals in this respect. To man 5
in particular among the animals, on account of his erect
stature, belongs the characteristic of having his upper parts
pointing upwards in the sense in which that applies to the
universe, while in the others these are in an intermediate
position. But in plants, owing to their being stationary and
drawing their sustenance from the ground, the upper part
must always be down ; for there is a correspondence between
the roots in a plant and what is called the mouth in animals, 10
by means of which they 2 take in their food, whether the
source of supply be the earth or each other s bodies.

CHAPTER II

All perfectly formed animals are to be divided into three
parts, one that by which food is taken in, one that by which
excrement is discharged, and the third the region inter- i 5
mediate between them. In the largest animals this latter is
called the chest and in the others something corresponding;
in some also it is more distinctly marked off than in others.
All those also that are capable of progression have additional
members subservient to this purpose, by means of which they
bear the whole trunk, to wit legs and feet and whatever parts
are possessed of the same powers. Now it is evident both 20
by observation and by inference that the source of the nutri
tive soul is in the midst of the three parts. For many
animals, when either part the head or the receptacle of the

1 By this 1 imagine that TO rr/s KinXins rrfpiTTui^a (de Part. Animal, in.
chap. viii. 67 i a 7) is meant, or more generally TO T^S rpo^rjs (n. chap. vii.
653" 13, &c.). Besides what we should call excrement, many bodily
secretions, e. g. yovi] and yuXa, are called nfpiTT^^ara by Aristotle.

2 I take TO. p.iv and r 3e (468* u, 12) to refer to different classes of
animals. Herbivorous animals could be said to derive their food e x TTJ?
yf}s ; the other class consists of the carnivora. On the other hand, if
Aristotle means to contrast two classes of plants, the second set those
which get their nutriment & f nvrau/ will comprise grafts and parasitic
plants, which only derive food indirectly from the soil . Cf. Ogle,
Aristotle on Youth and Old Age, &c., p. 108.

468 a Die IUVKNTUTK ET SENECTUTE, ETC.

J 5 food is cut off, retain life in that member to which the mid
dle remains attached. This can be seen to occur in many
insects, e.g. wasps and bees, and many animals also besides
insects can, though divided, continue to live by means of the
part connected with nutrition.

While this member is indeed in actuality single, yet poten
tially it is multiple, for these animals have a constitution

30 similar to that of plants ; plants when cut into sections
continue to live, and a number of trees can be derived
from one single source. A separate account l will be given
of the reason why some plants cannot live when divided,
468 b while others can be propagated by the taking of slips. In
this respect, however, plants and insects are alike.

It is true 2 that the nutritive soul, in beings possessing it.
while actually single must be potentially plural. And so
it is too with the principle of sensation, for evidently the
5 divided segments of these animals have sensation. They are
unable, however, to preserve their constitution, as plants can,
not possessing the organs on which the continuance of life
depends, for some lack the means for seizing, others for
receiving their food ; or again they may be destitute of other
organs as well.

Divisible animals are like a number of animals grown

10 together, but animals of superior construction behave differ
ently because their constitution is a unity of the highest
possible kind. Hence some of the organs on division display
slight sensitiveness because they retain some psychical suscep
tibility ; the animals continue to move after the vitals have

15 been abstracted: tortoises, for example, do so even after the
heart has been removed.

CHAPTER III

The same phenomenon is evident both in plants and in
animals, and in plants we note it both in their propagation
by seed and in grafts and cuttings. Genesis from seeds
always starts from the middle. All seeds are bivalvular, and

1 In the extant works of Aristotle no such account is to be met with.
Some suppose that it was included in the lost treatise on plants.

2 Susemihl and Biehl read 8fi.

CHAPTER III 468b

the place of junction 1 is situated at the point of attachment 1 20
(to the plant), an intermediate part belonging to both halves.
It is from this part that both root and stem of growing things
emerge ; the starting-point is in a central position between
them. In the case of grafts and cuttings this is particularly
true of the buds ; for the bud is in a way the starting-point
of the branch, but at the same time it is in a central position. 25
Hence it is either this that is cut off. or into this that the new
shoot is inserted, when we wish either a new branch or a
new root to spring from it ; which proves that the point of
origin in growth is intermediate between stem and root.

Likewise in sanguineous animals the heart is the first organ
developed ; this is evident from what has been observed in
those cases where observation of their growth is possible.
Hence in bloodless animals also what corresponds to the 30
heart must develop first. We have already asserted in our
treatise on The l\irts of Animals- that it is from the heart
that the veins issue, and that in sanguineous animals the blood 469 a
is the final nutriment from which the members are formed.
Hence it is clear that there is one function in nutrition which
the mouth has the faculty of performing, and a different one
appertaining to the stomach. Hut it is the heart that has
supreme control, exercising an additional and completing
function. Hence in sanguineous animals the source both of 5
the sensitive and of the nutritive soul must be in the heart,
for the functions relative to nutrition exercised by the other
parts are ancillary to the activity of the heart. It is the part
of the dominating organ to achieve the final result, as of the
physician s efforts to be directed towards health, and not to
be occupied with subordinate offices.

Certainly, however, all sanguineous animals have the to
supreme organ of the sense-faculties in the heart, for it is
here that we must look for the common sensorium belonging

1 I have followed Bekker s reading / (Ti nnf&lt;f&gt;vK(i&gt; t \frat . KOI TO ntvov
KT\. Biehl conjectures / avij.nt&lt;t&gt;vK.(v (ipx*) Tf Kal T0 pta-ov the point of

junction is the starting-point and intermediate between the two halves.
But if o-vpirtyvKfv has the same force as irpoa-jr^vKf in de den. Animal.
752* 19, 23 (q. ? .) it refers to the attachment of the seed to the plant.
Again, the sense which e^trai here bears is closely akin to that which we
meet with in the participle f^o/ifvoy.
Cf. dt? Part. Animal, iii. 665* 15.

469 a DE IUVKNTUTK HT SKNECTUTE, ETC.

to all the sense-organs. These in two cases, taste and touch,
can be clearly seen to extend to the heart, and hence the

Bothers also must lead to it, for in it the other organs may
possibly initiate changes, whereas \vith the upper region of
the body taste and touch have no connexion. Apart from
these considerations, if the life is always located in this part,
evidently the principle of sensation must be situated there
too, for it is qua animal that an animal is said to be a living
thing, and it is called animal because endowed with sensation.

20 Elsewhere in other works l we have stated the reasons why
some of the sense-organs are, as is evident, connected with the
heart, while others are situated in the head. (It is this fact
that causes some people to think that it is in virtue of the
brain that the function of perception belongs to animals.)

CHAPTER IV

Thus if, on the one hand, we look to the observed facts,
what we have said makes it clear that the source of the
sensitive soul, together with that connected with growth and

2; nutrition, is situated in this organ and in the central one of the
three divisions of the body. But it follows by deduction also ;
for we see that in every case, when several results are open to
her, Nature always brings to pass the best. Now if both

30 principles are located in the midst of the substance, the two
parts of the body, viz. that which elaborates and that which
receives the nutriment in its final form will best perform their
appropriate function ; for the soul will then be close to each,
and the central situation which it will, as such, occupy is the
position of a dominating power.

469 b Further, that which employs an instrument and the instru
ment it employs must be distinct (and must be spatially
diverse too, if possible, as in capacity), just as the flute and
that which plays it the hand are diverse. Thus if animal is
defined by the possession of sensitive soul, this soul must in
5 the sanguineous animals be in the heart, and, in the bloodless
ones, in the corresponding part of their body. But in animals
all the members and the whole body possess some connate

1 de Piirt. AninniL ii. 656 5.

CHAPTER IV 469 b

warmth of constitution, and hence when alive they are ob
served to be warm, but when dead and deprived of life they
are the opposite. Indeed, the source of this warmth must be 10
in the heart in sanguineous animals, and in the case of blood
less animals in the corresponding organ, for, though all parts
of the body by means of their natural heat elaborate and
concoct the nutriment, the governing organ takes the chief
share in this process. Hence, though the other members
become cold, life remains ; but when the warmth here is
quenched, death always ensues, because the source of heat
in all the other members depends on this, and the soul is, 15
as it were, set aglow with fire in this part, which in san
guineous animals is the heart and in the bloodless order the
analogous member. Hence, of necessity, life must be coin
cident with the maintenance of heat, and what we call death
is its destruction. 20

CHAPTER V

However, it is to be noticed that there are two ways in
which fire ceases to exist : it may go out either by exhaus
tion or by extinction. That which is self-caused we call
exhaustion, that due to its opposites extinction. [The
former is that due to old age, the latter to violence. 1 ] But
either of these ways in which fire ceases to be may be
brought about by the same cause, for, when there is a
deficiency of nutriment and the warmth can obtain no 25
maintenance, the fire fails ; and the reason is that the oppo
site, checking digestion, prevents the fire from being fed.
But in other cases the result is exhaustion, when the heat
accumulates excessively owing to lack of respiration and of
refrigeration. For in this case what happens is that the
heat, accumulating in great quantity, quickly uses up its
nutriment and consumes it all before more is sent up by 30
evaporation. Hence not only is a smaller fire readily put
out by a larger one, but of itself- the candle flame is consumed

1 Biehl thinks that an erroneous interpretation has suggested this clause.

2 The going out of the fire is, in every case of ndpavatx, in one respect
caused by the burning body itself, i.e. by its burning, and hence con
suming its fuel. It \spt-r accidens (Kara o-vp.j3((3r)Kos : 465 23 above) that
it is put out owing to the consumption of its fuel by a larger fire.

470 a DK IUVENTUTE KT SENECTUTK, ETC.

when inserted in a large blaze, just as is the case with any
other combustible. The reason is that the nutriment in the
flame is seized by the larger one before fresh fuel can be
added, for fire is ever coming into being and rushing just
like a river, but so speedily as to elude observation.

5 Clearly therefore, if the bodily heat must be conserved
(as is necessary if life is to continue), there must be some
way of cooling the heat resident in the source of warmth.
Take as an illustration what occurs when coals are confined
in a brazier. If they are kept covered up continuously by the

10 so-called choker , they are quickly extinguished, but, if the
lid is in rapid alternation lifted up and put on again they
remain glowing for a long time. Banking up a fire also
keeps it in, for the ashes, being porous, do not prevent the
passage of air, and again they enable it to resist extinction
by the surrounding air by means of the supply of heat which

15 it possesses. However, we have stated in TJic Problems 1
the reasons why these operations, namely banking up and
covering up a fire, have the opposite effects (in the one case
the fire goes out, in the other it continues alive for a consider
able time).

CHAPTER VI

20 Everything living- has soul, and it 2 , as we have said,
cannot exist without the presence of heat in the constitution.
In plants the natural heat is sufficiently well kept alive by
the aid which their nutriment and the surrounding air supply.
For the food has a cooling effect [as it enters, just as it has
in man] 3 when first it is taken in, whereas abstinence from

.25 food produces heat and thirst. The air, if it be motionless,
becomes hot, but by the entry of food a motion is set up
which lasts until digestion is completed and so cools it. If
the surrounding air is excessively cold owing to the time
of year, there being severe frost, plants shrivel, or if, in
the extreme heats of summer the moisture drawn from the

30 ground cannot produce its cooling effect, the heat comes to

1 No such passage is found in the extant Problems.

- 1. 19. Read a&gt;r and nfri;.

8 This clause seems to be an interpolation.

CHAPTER VI 47&lt;&gt; a

an end by exhaustion. Trees suffering at such seasons are
said to be blighted or star-stricken. Hence the practice of
laying beneath the roots stones of certain species or water
in pots, for the purpose of cooling the roots of the plants.

Some animals pass their life in the water, others in the air, 47 b
and therefore these media furnish the source and means of
refrigeration, water in the one case, air in the other. We
must proceed and it will require further application on our
part to give an account of the way and manner in which 5
this refrigeration occurs.

CHAPTER VII

(Chapter I of that part which deals specially with Respiration )

A few of the previous physical philosophers have spoken
of respiration. The reason, however, why it exists in animals
they have either not declared or, when they have, their
statements are not correct and show a comparative lack of
acquaintance with the facts. Moreover they assert that all
animals respire which is untrue. Hence these points must ro
first claim our attention, in order that we may not be thought
to make unsubstantiated charges against authors no longer
alive.

First then, it is evident that all animals with lungs breathe,
but in some cases breathing animals have a bloodless and
spongy lung, and then there is less need for respiration.
These animals can remain under water for a time, which 15
relatively to their bodily strength, is considerable. All
oviparous animals, e.g. the frog-tribe, have a spongy lung.
Also hemydes and tortoises can remain for a long time im
mersed in water ; for their lung, containing little blood, has 20
not much heat. Hence, when once it is inflated, it itself, by
means of its motion, produces a cooling effect and enables the
animal to remain immersed for a long time. Suffocation,
however, always ensues if the animal is forced to hold its
breath for too long a time, for none of this class take in
water in the way fishes do. On the other hand, animals which
have the Jung qharged with blood have greater need of- 5

4?o b DE RESPIRATIONE

respiration on account of the amount of their heat, while
none at all of the others which do not possess lungs,
breathe.

CHAPTER VIII (II)

Democritus of Abdera and certain others who have treated
of respiration, while saying nothing definite about the lungless

30 animals, nevertheless seem to speak as if all breathed. But
Anaxagoras and Diogenes both maintain that all breathe,
and state the manner in which fishes and oysters respire.
Anaxagoras says that when fishes discharge water through
471 a their gills, air is formed in the mouth, for there can be no
vacuum, and that it is by drawing in this that they respire.
Diogenes statement is that, when they discharge water
through their gills, they suck the air out of the water
surrounding the mouth by means of the vacuum formed in
the mouth, for he believes there is air in the water.
5 But these theories are untenable. Firstly, they state only
what is the common element in both operations and so leave
out the half of the matter. For what goes by the name of
respiration consists, on the one hand, of inhalation, and, on the
other, of the exhalation of breath ; but, about the latter they
say nothing, nor do they describe how such animals emit

10 their breath. Indeed, explanation is for them impossible for,
when the creatures respire, they must discharge their breath
by the same passage as that by which they draw it in, and
this must happen in alternation. Hence, as a result, they
must take the water into their mouth at the same time as
they breathe out. But the air and the water must meet and
obstruct each other. Further, when they discharge the water

15 they must emit their breath by the mouth or the gills, and
the result will be that they will breathe in and breathe out at
the same time, for it is at that moment that respiration is said
to occur. But it is impossible that they should do both at
the same time. Hence, if respiring creatures must both
exhale and inhale the air, and if none of these animals can
breathe out, evidently none can respire at all.

4?i a
CHAPTER IX (III)

Further, the assertion that they draw in air out of the 20
mouth or out of the water by means of the mouth is an
impossibility, for, not having a lung, they have no windpipe ;
rather the stomach is closely juxtaposed to the mouth, so that
they must do the sucking with the stomach. But in that
case the other animals would do so also, which is not the
truth ; and the water-animals also would be seen to do it
when out of the water, whereas quite evidently they do not. 2 5
Further, in all animals that respire and draw breath there is
to be observed a certain motion in the part of the body
which draws in the air, but in the fishes this does not occur.
Fishes do not appear to move any of the parts in the region
of the stomach, except the gills alone, and these move both
when they are in the water and when they are thrown on to 3
dry land and gasp. Moreover, always when respiring animals 471 b
are killed by being suffocated in water, bubbles are formed of
the air which is forcibly discharged, as happens, e. g. when
one forces a tortoise or a frog or any other animal of a similar
class to stay beneath water. But with fishes this result never
occurs, in whatsoever way we try to obtain it, since they do
not contain air drawn from an external source. Again, the 5
manner of respiration said to exist in them might occur in
the case of men also when they are under water. For if
fishes draw in air out of the surrounding water by means of
their mouth why should not men too and other animals do
so also ; they should also, in the same way as fishes, draw in
air out of the mouth. 1 If in the former case it were possible, 10
so also should it be in the latter. But, since in the one it is
not so, neither does it occur in the other. Furthermore,
why do fishes, if they respire, die in the air and gasp (as can
be seen) as in suffocation ? It is not want of food - that pro
duces this effect upon them, and the reason given by Diogenes 15
is foolish, for he says that in air they take in too much air
and hence die, but in the water they take in a moderate
amount. But that should be a possible occurrence with land

1 Anaxagoras s theory.

2 If the air is regarded as nutriment.

471 b DK RESPIRATIONK

animals also ; as facts are, however, no land animal seems to
be suffocated by excessive respiration. Again, if all animals

20 breathe, insects must do so also. But many of them seem
to live though divided not merely into two, but into several
parts, e. g. the class called Scolopendra. But how can they,
when thus divided, breathe, and what is the organ they
employ ? The main reason why these writers have not given
a good account of these facts is that they have no acquaint-

25 ance with the internal organs, and that they did not accept
the doctrine that there is a final cause for whatever Nature
docs. If they had asked for what purpose respiration exists
in animals, and had considered this with reference to the
organs, e. g. the gills and the lungs, they would have dis
covered the reason more speedily.

CHAPTER X (IV)

30 Democritus, however, does teach that in the breathing
animals there is a certain result produced by respiration ;
he asserts that it prevents the soul from being extruded from
472 a the body. Nevertheless, he by no means asserts that it is
for this purpose that Nature so contrives it, for he, like the
other physical philosophers, altogether fails to attain to any
such explanation. His statement is that the soul and the hot
element are identical, being the primary forms among the
5 spherical particles. Hence, when these are being crushed
together by the surrounding atmosphere thrusting them out,
respiration, according to his account, comes in to succour
them. For in the air there are many of those particles which
he calls mind and soul. Hence, when we breathe and the
air enters, these enter along with it, and by their action cancel
the pressure, thus preventing the expulsion of the soul which
resides in the animal.

10 This explains why life and death are bound up with the
taking in and letting out of the breath ; for death occurs
when the compression by the surrounding air gains the upper
hand, and, the animal being unable to respire, the air from
outside can no longer enter and counteract the compression.

CHAPTER X (IV) 472 a

Death is the departure of those forms owing to the expulsive 15
pressure exerted by the surrounding air. Death, however,
occurs not by haphazard but, when natural, owing to old age.
and, when unnatural, to violence.

But the reason for this and why all must die Democritus
has by no means made clear. And yet, since evidently death
occurs at one time of life and not at another, he should have
said whether the cause is external or internal. Neither docs 20
he assign the cause of the beginning of respiration, nor say
whether it is internal or external. Indeed, it is not the case
that the external mind superintends the reinforcement ; rather
the origin of breathing and of the respiratory motion must be
within : it is not due to pressure from around. It is absurd
also that what surrounds should compress and at the same
time by entering dilate. This then is practically his theory, . 5
and ho\v he puts it.

But if we must consider that our previous account is true,
and that respiration does not occur in every animal, we must
deem that this explains death not universally, but only in
respiring animals. Yet neither is it a good account of these
even, as may clearly be seen from the facts and phenomena 30
of which we all have experience. For in hot weather we
grow warmer, and, having more need of respiration, we always
breathe faster. But, when the air around is cold and contracts
and solidifies the body, retardation of the breathing results.
Yet this was just the time when the external air should enter 35
and annul the expulsive movement, whereas it is the opposite 472 b
that occurs. For when the breath is not let out and the heat
accumulates too much then we need to respire, and to respire
we must draw in the breath. When hot. people breathe rapidly,
because they must do so in order to cool themselves, just 5
when the theory of Democritus would make them add fire
to fire.

CHAPTER XI (V)

The theory found in the Timaeus, of the passing round of
the breath by pushing, by no means determines how, in the
case of the animals other than land -animals, their heat is pre
served, and whether it is due to the same or a different cause.

472 b DE RESPIRATIONE

For if respiration occurs only in land-animals we should be

10 told what is the reason of that. Likewise, if it is found in
others also, but in a different form, this form of respiration,
if they all can breathe, must also be described.

Further, the method of explaining involves a fiction. It is
said that when the hot air issues from the mouth it pushes
the surrounding air, which being carried on enters the very

15 place whence the internal warmth issued, through the inter
stices of the porous flesh ; and this reciprocal replacement is
due to the fact that a vacuum cannot exist. But when it has
become hot the air passes out again by the same route, and
pushes back inwards through the mouth the air that had
been discharged in a warm condition. It is said that it is
this action which goes on continuously when the breath is
taken in and let out.

- o But according to this way of thinking it will follow that
we breathe out before we breathe in. But the opposite is
the case, as evidence shows, for though these two functions
go on in alternation, yet the last act when life comes to
a close is the letting out of the breath, and hence its
admission must have been the beginning of the process.

Once more, those who give this kind of explanation by no
means state the final cause of the presence in animals of this

25 function (to wit the admission and emission of the breath),
but treat it as though it were a contingent accompaniment
of life. Yet it evidently has control over life and death, for
it results synchronously that when respiring animals are
unable to breathe they perish. Again, it is absurd that the

30 passage of the hot air out through the mouth and back again
should be quite perceptible, while we were not able to detect
the thoracic influx and the return outwards once more of the
heated breath. It is also nonsense that respiration should
consist in the entrance of heat, for the evidence is to the
contrary effect ; what is breathed out is hot, and what is

35 breathed in is cold. When it is hot we pant in breathing,
473 a for, because what enters does not adequately perform its
cooling function, we have as a consequence to draw the breath
frequently.

473 a
CHAPTER XII (VI)

It is certain, however, that we must not entertain the notion
that it is for purposes of nutrition that respiration is designed,
and believe that the internal fire is fed by the breath ;
respiration, as it were, adding fuel to the fire, while the feeding 5
of the flame results in the outward passage of the breath.
To combat this doctrine I shall repeat what I said in opposition
to the previous theories. This, or something analogous to it,
should occur in the other animals also (on this theory), for
all possess vital heat. Further, how are we to describe this 10
fictitious process of the generation of heat from the breath ?
Observation shows rather that it is a product of the food.
A consequence also of this theory is that the nutriment would
enter and the refuse be discharged by the same channel, but
this docs not appear to occur in the other instances.

CHAPTER XIII (VII)

Empedocles also gives an account of respiration without. 15
however, making clear what its purpose is, or whether or not
it is universal in animals. Also when dealing with respiration
by means of the nostrils he imagines he is dealing with what
is the primary kind of respiration. Even the breath which
passes through the nostrils passes through the windpipe out
of the chest as well, and without the latter the nostrils cannot 20
act. Again, when animals are bereft of respiration through the
nostrils, no detrimental result ensues, but. when prevented from
breathing through the windpipe, they die. Nature employs
respiration through the nostrils as a secondary function in
certain animals in order to enable them to smell. But the - 5
reason why it exists in some only is that though almost
all animals are endowed with the sense of smell, the sense-
organ is not the same in all.

A more precise account has been given about this else
where. 1 Empedocles, however, explains the passage inwards 473 b
and outwards of the breath, by the theory that there are

1 Cf. de An. iii. 421* 10, de Sens. ch. v. 443* 4, 444 7-15, Hist. An.
iv. 534 b 16, de Part. Animal, ii. 659 b 15.

473 b DK RESPIRATIONK

certain blood-vessels, which, while containing blood, arc not
filled by it, but have passages leading to the outer air, the
calibre of which is fine in contrast to the size of the solid
5 particles, but large relatively to those in the air. Hence,
since it is the nature of the blood to move upwards and
downwards, when it moves down the air rushes in and
inspiration occurs ; when the blood rises, the air is forced
out and the outward motion of the breath results. He
compares this process to what occurs in a clepsydra.

Thus all things outwards breathe and in ; their flesh has
tubes

10 Bloodless, that stretch towards the body s outmost edge,
Which, at their mouths, full many frequent channels pierce.
Cleaving the extreme nostrils through ; thus, while the gore
Lies hid, for air is cut a thoroughfare most plain.
And thence, whenever shrinks away the tender blood.

15 Enters the blustering wind with swelling billow wild.

But when the blood leaps up, backward it breathes. As

when

With water-clock of polished bronze * a maiden sporting,
Sets on her comely hand the narrow of the tube
And dips it in the frail-formed water s silvery sheen ;

jo Not then the flood the vessel enters, but the air,
Pressing within on the dense orifices, checks it,
Until she frees the crowded stream. But then indeed
Upon the air s escape runs in the water meet.
So also when within the vessel s deeps the water

25 Remains, the opening by the hand of flesh being closed,
The outer air that entrance craves restrains the flood
At the gates of the sounding narrow, upon the surface
pressing,

474 a Until the maid withdraws her hand. But then in contrariwise

Once more the air comes in and water meet flows out.
Thus too the subtle blood, surging throughout the limbs,
Whene er it shrinks away into the far recesses
Admits a stream of air rushing with swelling wave,
5 But, when it backward leaps, in like bulk air flows out.

This then is what he says of respiration. But, as we said.
all animals that evidently respire do so by means of the
windpipe, when they breathe either through the mouth or

1 The reading is difficult. Perhaps we should read K\t^v^pijt Trm^tat
nA*o(o, with Diels, Vorsokratiker^ 2nd ed., p. 200.

CHAPTER XIII (VII) 474 a

through the nostrils. Hence, if it is of this kind of respira
tion that he is talking, we must ask how it tallies with the 10
explanation given. But the facts seem to be quite opposed.
The chest is raised in the manner of a forge-bellows when
the breath is drawn in it is quite reasonable that it should
be heat which raises up and that the blood should occupy the
hot region but it collapses and sinks down, like the bellows
once more, when the breath is let out. The difference is that 15
in a bellows it is not by the same channel that the air is
taken in and let out, but in breathing it is.

But, if Empedocles is accounting only for respiration
through the nostrils, he is much in error, for that does not
involve the nostrils alone, but passes by the channel beside
the uvula where the extremity of the roof of the mouth is, 20
some of the air going this way through the apertures of
the nostrils and some through the mouth, both when it enters
and when it passes out. Such then is the nature and magni
tude of the difficulties besetting the theories of other writers
concerning respiration.

CHAPTER XIV (VIII)

We have already stated that life and the presence of soul 2 5
involve a certain heat. Not even the digesting process to
which is due the nutrition of animals occurs apart from soul
and warmth, for it is to fire that in all cases elaboration is
due. It is for this reason, precisely, that the primary
nutritive soul also must be located in that part of the 3
body and in that division of this region which is the
immediate vehicle of this principle. The region in question 474
is intermediate between that where food enters and that
where excrement is discharged. In bloodless animals it
has no name, but in the sanguineous class this organ is
called the heart. The blood constitutes the nutriment
from which the organs of the animal are directly formed.
Likewise the blood-vessels must have the same originating 5
source, since the one exists for the other s behoof as a
vessel or receptacle for it. In sanguineous animals the
heart is the starting-point of the veins ; they do not traverse

474 b DE RESPIRATIONK

it, but are found to stretch out from it, as dissections l enable
us to see.

10 Now the other psychical faculties cannot exist apart from
the power of nutrition (the reason has already been stated in
the treatise on the soul), 2 and this depends on the natural
fire, by the union with which Nature has set it aglow. But
fire, as we have already stated, is destroyed in two ways,
either by extinction or by exhaustion. It suffers extinction

15 from its opposites. Hence it can be extinguished by the
surrounding cold both when in mass and (though more
speedily) when scattered. Now this way of perishing is
due to violence equally in living and in lifeless objects,
for the division of an animal by instruments and consequent
congelation by excess of cold cause death. But exhaustion

20 is due to excess of heat ; for, if there is too much heat close
at hand and the thing burning does not have a fresh supply
of fuel added to it, it goes out by exhaustion, not by the
action of cold. Hence, if it is going to continue it must be
cooled, for cold is a preventive against this form of
extinction.

CHAPTER XV (IX)

25 Some animals occupy the water, others live on land, and,
that being so, in the case of those which are very small and
bloodless the refrigeration due to the surrounding water or
air is sufficient to prevent destruction from this cause. Having

30 little heat, they require little cold to combat it. Hence
too such animals are almost all short-lived, for, being small,
they have less scope for deflection towards either extreme.
475 a But some insects are longer-lived (though bloodless, like all
the others), and these have a deep indentation beneath the
waist, in order to secure cooling through the membrane,
which there is thinner. They are warmer animals and hence
require more refrigeration, and such are bees (some of which
5 live as long as seven years) and all that make a humming
noise, like wasps, cockchafers, and crickets. They make
a sound as if of panting by means of air, for, in the middle

1 According to Bonitz, hid. p. lO4 a 6, the reference here and at 478* 35
is to a lost treatise of Aristotle s on Anatomy.

2 De An. i. 4ii b 18, ii. 4i3 b I.

CHAPTER XV (IX) 475 a

section itself, the air which exists internally and is involved
in their construction, causing a rising and falling movement,
produces friction against the membrane. The way in which
they move this region is like the motion due to the lungs 1
in animals that breathe the outer air, or to the gills in fishes.
What occurs is comparable to the suffocation of a respiring
animal by holding its mouth, for then the lung causes a
heaving motion of this kind. In the case of these animals
this internal motion is not sufficient for refrigeration, but
in insects it is. It is by friction against the membrane 5
that they produce the humming sound, as we said, in the
way that children do by blowing through the holes of a reed
covered by a fine membrane. It is thus that the singing
crickets too produce their song ; they possess greater warmth
and are indented at the waist, but the songless variety have
no fissure there.

Animals also which are sanguineous and possess a lung, 20
though that contains little blood and is spongy, can in some
cases, owing to the latter fact, live a long time without
breathing; for the lung, containing little blood or fluid, can
rise a long way : its own motion can for a long time produce
sufficient refrigeration. But at last it ceases to suffice, and 25
the animal dies of suffocation if it does not respire as we
have already said. For of exhaustion that kind which is
destruction due to lack of refrigeration is called suffocation,
and whatsoever is thus destroyed is said to be suffocated.

We have already stated that among animals insects do not
respire, and the fact is open to observation in the case of even 30
small creatures like flies and bees, for they can swim about in
a fluid for a long time if it is not too hot or too cold. Yet 475 b
animals with little strength tend to breathe more frequently.
These, however, die of what is called suffocation when the
stomach becomes filled and the heat in the central segment
is destroyed. This explains also why they revive after being
among ashes for a time.

Again among water-animals those that are bloodless 5
remain alive longer" in air than those that have blood and
admit the sea-water, as, for example, fishes. Since it is
a small quantity of heat they possess, the air is for a long

K 2

475 b DK RESPIRATION E

time adequate for the purposes of refrigeration in such
10 animals as the Crustacea and the polyps. It does not
however suffice, owing to their want of heat, to keep them
finally in life, for most fishes also live though among earth,
yet in a motionless state, and are to be found by digging.
For all animals that have no lung at all or have a bloodless
one require less refrigeration.

CHAPTER XVI (X)

15 Concerning the bloodless animals we have declared that
in some cases it is the surrounding air, in others fluid, that
aids the maintenance of life. But in the case of animals
possessing blood and heart, all which have a lung admit
the air and produce the cooling effect by breathing in and

20 out. All animals have a lung that are viviparous and are so
internally, not externally merely (the Selachia are viviparous,
but not internally), and of the oviparous class those that have
wings, e. g. birds, and those with scales, e. g. tortoises, lizards,
and snakes. The former class have a lung charged with
blood, but in the most part of the latter it is spongy. Hence

25 they employ respiration more sparingly as already said. The
function is found also in all that frequent and pass their life
in the water, e. g. the class of water-snakes and frogs and
crocodiles and hemydes, both sea- and land-tortoises, and
seals.

All these and similar animals both bring forth on land

30 and sleep on shore or, when they do so in the water, keep

476 a the head above the surface in order to respire. But all with

gills produce refrigeration by taking in water ; the Selachia

and all other footless animals have gills. Fish are footless, and

the limbs they have get their name (iiTtpvyiov) from their

5 similarity to wings (Trre puf ). But of those with feet one

only, so far as observed, has gills. It is called the tadpole.

No animal yet has been seen to possess both lungs and
gills, and the reason for this is that the lung is designed for
the purpose of refrigeration by means of the air (it seems to
have derived its name (nvtvptov) from its function as a re-

10 ceptacle of the breath (wi/eC/ma) ), while gills are relevant to

CHAPTER XVI (X) 476 a

refrigeration by water. Now for one purpose one organ is
adapted and one single means of refrigeration is sufficient in
every case. Hence, since we see that Nature does nothing in
vain, and if there were two organs one would be purposeless,
this is the reason why some animals have gills, others lungs, 15
but none possess both.

CHAPTER XVII (XI)

Every animal in order to exist requires nutriment, in order
to prevent itself from dying, refrigeration ; and so Nature
employs the same organ for both purposes. For, as in some
cases the tongue serves both for discerning tastes and for
speech, so in animals with lungs the mouth is employed both 20
in working up the food and in the passage of the breath
outwards and inwards. In lungless and non-respiring animals
it is employed in working up the food, while in those of them
that require refrigeration it is the gills that are created for
this purpose.

We shall state further on how it is that these organs have 25
the faculty of producing refrigeration. But to prevent their
food from impeding these operations there is a similar con
trivance in the respiring animals and in those that admit
water. At the moment of respiration they do not take in
food, for otherwise suffocation results owing to the food, 30
whether liquid or dry, slipping in through the windpipe
and lying on the lung. The windpipe is situated before
the oesophagus, through which food passes into what is called
the stomach, but in quadrupeds which are sanguineous there
is, as it were, a lid over the windpipe the epiglottis. In
birds and oviparous quadrupeds this covering is absent, but 476 b
its office is discharged by a contraction of the windpipe.
The latter class contract the windpipe when swallowing their
food ; the former close down the epiglottis. When the food
has passed, the epiglottis is in the one case raised, and in the
other the windpipe is expanded, and the air enters to effect
refrigeration. In animals with gills the water is first dis- 5
charged through them and then the food passes in through
the mouth ; they have no windpipe and hence can take no

476 b DE RESPIRATIONE

harm from liquid lodging in this organ, only from its entering
the stomach. For these reasons the expulsion of water and
10 the seizing of their food is rapid, and their teeth are sharp
and in almost all cases arranged in a saw-like fashion, for
they are debarred from chewing their food.

CHAPTER XVIII (XII)

Among water-animals the cetaceans may give rise to some
perplexity, though they too can be rationally explained.

15 Examples of such animals are dolphins and whales, and
all others that have a blow-hole. They have no feet, yet
possess a lung though admitting the sea-water. The reason
for possessing a lung is that which we have now stated
[refrigeration] ; the admission of water is not for the purpose
of refrigeration. That is effected by respiration, for they have

20 a lung. Hence they sleep with their head out of the water, and
dolphins, at any rate, snore. Further, if they are entangled in
nets they soon die of suffocation owing to lack of respiration,
and hence they can be seen to come to the surface owing
to the necessity of breathing. But, since they have to feed

25 in the water, they must admit it, and it is in order to discharge
this that they all have a blow-hole ; after admitting the water
they expel it through the blow-hole as the fishes do through
the gills. The position of the blow-hole is an indication of
this, for it leads to none of the organs which are charged
with blood ; but it lies before the brain and thence discharges
water.

3 It is for the very same reason that molluscs and crustaceans
admit water I mean such animals as Carabi and Carcini.
For none of these is refrigeration a necessity, for in every
case they have little heat and arc bloodless, and hence are
477 a sufficiently cooled by the surrounding water. But in feeding
they admit water, and hence must expel it in order to prevent
its being swallowed simultaneously with the food. Thus
crustaceans, like the Carcini and Carabi, discharge water
through the folds beside their shaggy parts, while cuttle-fish
and the polyps employ for this purpose the hollow above the

CHAPTER XVIII (XII) 47?a

head. There is, however, a more precise account of these in 5
the History of Animals. 1

Thus it has been explained that the cause of the admission
of the water is refrigeration, and the fact that animals consti
tuted for a life in water must feed in it. ro

CHAPTER XIX (XIII)

An account must next be given of refrigeration and the
manner in which it occurs in respiring animals and those
possessed of gills. We have already said that all animals
with lungs respire. The reason why some creatures have
this organ, and why those having it need respiration, is 15
that the higher animals have a greater proportion of heat,
for at the same time they must have been assigned a higher
soul and they have a higher nature than plants. 2 Hence too
those with most blood and most warmth in the lung are
of greater size, and that animal in which the blood in the 2
lung is purest and most plentiful is the most erect, namely
man ; and the reason why he alone has his upper part directed
to the upper part of the universe is that he possesses such
a lung. Hence this organ as much as any other must
be assigned to the essence of the animal both in man and
in other cases.

This then is the purpose of refrigeration. As for the 25
constraining and efficient cause, we must believe that it
created animals like this, just as it created many others also not
of this constitution. For some have a greater proportion of
earth in their composition, like plants, and others, e. g. aquatic
animals, contain a larger amount of water ; while winged and
terrestrial animals have an excess of air and fire respectively.
It is always in the region proper to the element prepon- 30
derating in the scheme of their constitution that things exist.

CHAPTER XX (XIV)

Empedocles is then in error when he says that those
animals which have the most warmth and fire live in the 477 b

1 Cf. Hist. Animal, ii. ch. 2, iv. chh. 1-3.

2 Which are cold. Hence a higher soul entails more heat. Biehl,
however, reads \\Qvw.

477 b DE RESPIRATIONK

water to counterbalance the excess of heat in their consti
tution, in order that, since they are deficient in cold and
fluid, they may be kept in life by the contrary character of
the region they occupy ; for water has less heat than air.
5 But it is wholly absurd that the water-animals should in
every case originate on dry land, and afterwards change their
place of abode to the water ; for they are almost all footless.
He, however, when describing their original structure says
that, though originating on dry land, they have abandoned it
and migrated to the water. But again it is evident that they

10 are not warmer than land-animals, for in some cases they have
no blood at all. in others little.

The question, however, as to what sorts of animals should
be called warm and what cold, has in each special case
received consideration. Though in one respect there is
reason in the explanation which Empcdocles aims at estab
lishing, yet his account is not correct. Excess in a bodily

15 state is cured by a situation or season of opposite character,
but the constitution is best maintained by an environment
akin to it. There is a difference between the material of
which any animal is constituted and the states and disposi
tions of that material. Eor example, if nature were to con
stitute a thing of wax or of ice, she would not preserve it

20 by putting it in a hot place, for the opposing quality would
quickly destroy it, seeing that heat dissolves that which cold
congeals. Again, a thing composed of salt or nitre would not
be taken and placed in water, for fluid dissolves that of which
the consistency is due to the hot and the dry.

Hence if the fluid and the dry supply the material for all
bodies, it is reasonable that things the composition of which
is due to the fluid and the cold should have liquid for their

25 medium [and. if they are cold, they will exist in the cold] 1 ,
while that which is due to the dry will be found in the dry.
Thus trees grow not in water but on dry land. But the same
theory would relegate them to the water, on account of their
excess of dry ness, just as it does the things that are exces-

1 The clause within brackets is supposed by Biehl and Christ to be
spurious.

CHAPTER XX (XIV) 477 b

sively fiery. They would migrate thither not on account
of its cold but owing to its fluidity.

Thus the natural character of the material of objects is of 3
the same nature as the region in which they exist ; the liquid
is found in liquid, the dry on land, the warm in air. With 478 a
regard, however, to states of body, a cold situation has, on the
other hand, a beneficial effect on excess of heat, and a warm
environment on excess of cold, for the region reduces to
a mean the excess in the bodily condition. The regions
appropriate to each material and the revolutions of the
seasons which all experience supply the means which must 5
be sought in order to correct such excesses ; but, while states
of the body can be opposed in character to the environment,
the material of which it is composed can never be so. This,
then, is a sufficient explanation of why it is not owing to the
heat in their constitution that some animals are aquatic,
others terrestrial, as Empedocles maintains, and of why some
possess lungs and others do not. 10

CHAPTER XXI (XV)

The explanation of the admission of air and respiration in
those animals in which a lung is found, and especially in
those in which it is full of blood, is to be found in the fact
that it is of a spongy nature and full of tubes, and that it is
the most fully charged with blood of all the visceral organs.
All animals with a full-blooded lung require rapid refrigera- 15
tion because there is little scope for deviation from the normal
amount of their vital fire ; the air also must penetrate all
through it on account of the large quantity of blood and heat
it contains. But both these operations can be easily per
formed by air, for. being of a subtle nature, it penetrates
everywhere and that rapidly, and so performs its cooling
function ; but water has the opposite characteristics. 2 o

The reason why animals with a full-blooded lung respire
most is hence manifest ; the more heat there is, the greater is
the need for refrigeration, and at the same time breath can
easily pass to the source of heat in the heart. 2 -

478 a DK RESPIRATIONK

CHAPTER XXII (XVI)

In order to understand the way in which the heart is con
nected with the lung by means of passages, we must consult
both dissections and the account in the History of Animals}
The universal cause of the need which the animal has for
refrigeration, is the union of the soul with fire that takes

30 place in the heart. Respiration is the means of effecting
refrigeration, of which those animals make use that possess
a lung as well as a heart. But when they, as for example the
fishes, which on account of their aquatic nature have no lung,
possess the latter organ without the former, the cooling is
effected through the gills by means of water. For ocular

35 evidence as to how the heart is situated relatively to the gills

we must employ dissections, and for precise details we must

478 b refer to Natural History. 2 As a summarizing statement,

however, and for present purposes, the following is the

account of the matter.

It might appear that the heart has not the same position
in terrestrial animals and in fishes, but the position really is
identical, for the apex of the heart is in the direction in which
5 they incline their heads. But it is towards the mouth in fishes
that the apex of the heart points, seeing that they do not
incline their heads in the same direction as land-animals
do. Now from the extremity of the heart a tube of a
sinewy, arterial character runs to the centre where the gills

10 all join. This then is the largest of those ducts, but on
either side of the heart others also issue and run to the
extremity of each gill, and by means of the ceaseless flow
of water through the gills, effect the cooling which passes to
the heart.

In similar fashion as the fish move their gills, respiring
animals with rapid action raise and let fall the chest accord-

15 ing as the breath is admitted or expelled. If the air is limited

in amount and unchanged they are suffocated, for either

medium, owing to contact with the blood, rapidly becomes

hot. The heat of the blood counteracts the refrigeration and,

1 Hist. Animal, i. ch. 17, iii. chh. 2-3. 3 Ibid., ii. 5o; b 3.

CHAPTER XXII (XVI) 47b

when respiring animals can no longer move the lung or
aquatic animals their gills, whether owing to disease or old 20
age, their death ensues.

CHAPTER XXIII (XVII)
(De Vita ct Mortc I.)

To be born and to die are common to all animals, but
there are specifically diverse ways in which these phenomena
occur; of destruction there are different types, though yet
something is common to them all. There is violent death
and again natural death, and the former occurs when the 25
cause of death is external, the latter when it is internal, and l
involved from the beginning in the constitution of the organ,
and not an affection derived from a foreign source. In the
case of plants the name given to this is withering, in animals
senility. Death and decay pertain to all things that are not
imperfectly developed ; to the imperfect also they may be
ascribed in nearly the same but not an identical sense. Under 30
the imperfect I class eggs and seeds of plants as they are
before the root appears.

It is always to some lack of heat that death is due, and in
perfect creatures the cause is its failure in the organ contain
ing the source of the creature s essential nature. This mem
ber is situate, as has been said, at the junction of the upper
and lower parts ; in plants it is intermediate between the
root and the stem, in sanguineous animals it is the heart, and 35
in those that are bloodless the corresponding part of their
body. But some of these animals have potentially many 479 a
sources of life, though in actuality they possess only one.
This is why some insects live when divided, and why, even
among sanguineous animals, all whose vitality is not intense
live for a long time after the heart has been removed.
Tortoises, for example, do so and make movements with 5
their feet, so long as the shell is left, a fact to be explained
by the natural inferiority of their constitution, as it is in
insects also.

The source of life is lost to its possessors when the heat

1 Read comma after uu.

479 a DE RESPIRATIONS

with which it is bound up is no longer tempered by cooling,

10 for, as I have often remarked, it is consumed by itself. Hence
when, owing to lapse of time, the lung in the one class and
the gills in the other get dried up, these organs become hard
and earthy and incapable of movement, and cannot be ex
panded or contracted. Finally things come to a climax, and
the fire goes out from exhaustion.

15 Hence a small disturbance will speedily cause death in old
age. Little heat remains, for the most of it has been breathed
away in the long period of life preceding, and hence any
increase of strain on the organ quickly causes extinction. It
is just as though the heart contained a tiny feeble flame which

20 the slightest movement puts out. Hence in old age death is
painless, for no violent disturbance is required to cause death,
and there is an entire absence of feeling when the soul s
connexion is severed. All diseases which harden the lung
by forming tumours or waste residues, or by excess of morbid

25 heat, as happens in fevers, accelerate the breathing owing to
the inability of the lung to move far either upwards or down
wards. Finally, when motion is no longer possible, the breath
is given out and death ensues.

CHAPTER XXIV (XVIII)

Generation is the initial participation, mediated by warm

substance, in the nutritive soul, and life is the maintenance of

30 this participation. Youth is the period of the growth of the

primary organ of refrigeration, old age of its decay, while the

intervening time is the prime of life.

A violent death or dissolution consists in the extinction or
exhaustion of the vital heat (for either of these may cause
479 b dissolution), while natural death is the exhaustion of the heat
owing to lapse of time, and occurring at the end of life. In
plants this is to wither, in animals to die. Death, in old age,
is the exhaustion due to inability on the part of the organ,
owing to old age, to produce refrigeration.
5 This then is our account of generation and life and death,
and the reason for their occurrence in animals.

479 b

CHAPTER XXV (XIX)

It is hence also clear why respiring animals are suffocated in
water and fishes in air. For it is by water in the latter class, 10
by air in the former that refrigeration is effected, and either
of these means of performing the function is removed by
a change of environment.

There is also to be explained in either case the cause of
the motion of the gills and of the lungs, the rise and fall
of which effects the admission and expulsion of the breath
or of water. The following, moreover, is the manner of the 15
constitution of the organ.

CHAPTER XXVI (XX)
(Dc Vitact J\ forte II.)

In connexion with the heart there are three phenomena,
which, though apparently of the same nature, arc really not
so, namely palpitation, pulsation, and respiration.

Palpitation is the rushing together of the hot substance in
the heart owing to the chilling influence of residual or waste 20
products. It occurs, for example, in the ailment known as
spasms and in other diseases. It occurs also in fear, for
when one is afraid the upper parts become cold, and the hot
substance, fleeing away, by its concentration in the heart
produces palpitation. It is crushed into so small a space 25
that sometimes life is extinguished, and the animals die of
the fright and morbid disturbance.

The beating of the heart, which, as can be seen, goes on
continuously, is similar to the throbbing of an abscess. That,
however, is accompanied by pain, because the change pro
duced in the blood is unnatural, and it goes on until the 30
matter formed by concoction is discharged. There is a
similarity between this phenomenon and that of boiling; for
boiling is due to the volatilization of fluid by heat and the
expansion consequent on increase of bulk. But in an abscess,
if there is no evaporation through the walls, the process ter
minates in suppuration due to the thickening of the liquid, 480 a
while in boiling it ends in the escape of the fluid out of the
containing vessel.

480 a DE RESPIRATIONE

In the heart the beating is produced by the heat expanding
the fluid, of which the food furnishes a constant supply. It
occurs when the fluid rises to the outer wall of the heart, and
5 it goes on continuously ; for there is a constant flow of the
fluid that goes to constitute the blood, it being in the heart
that the blood receives its primary elaboration. That this is
so we can perceive in the initial stages of generation, for the
heart can be seen to contain blood before the veins become
distinct. This explains why pulsation in youth exceeds that
in older people, for in the young the formation of vapour is
more abundant.

10 All the veins pulse, and do so simultaneously with each
other, owing to their connexion with the heart. The heart
always beats, and hence they also beat continuously and
simultaneously with each other and with it.

Palpitation, then, is the recoil of the heart against the

15 compression due to cold ; and pulsation is the volatilization of
the heated fluid.

CHAPTER XXVII (XXI)

Respiration takes place when the hot substance which is
the seat of the nutritive principle increases. For it, like the
rest of the body, requires nutrition, and more so than the
members, for it is through it that they are nourished. But
when it increases it necessarily causes the organ to rise.

20 This organ we must take to be constructed like the bellows
in a smithy, for both heart and lungs conform pretty well to
this shape. Such a structure must be double, for the nutritive
principle must be situated in the centre of the natural 1 force.

25 Thus on increase of bulk expansion results, which neces
sarily causes the surrounding parts to rise. Now this can be
seen to occur when people respire ; they raise their chest
because the motive principle of the organ described resident
within the chest causes an identical expansion of this organ.
When it dilates the outer air must rush in as into a bellows, and,

3 being cold, by its chilling influence reduces by extinction the
480 b excess of the fire. But, as the increase of bulk causes the

1 Ogle reads ^VKTIKIJS = cooling.

CHAPTER XXVII (XXI) 480 b

organ to dilate, so diminution causes contraction, and when it
collapses the air which entered must pass out again. When
it enters the air is cold, but on issuing it is warm owing to
its contact with the heat resident in this organ, and this is 5
specially the case in those animals that possess a full-blooded
lung. The numerous canal-like ducts in the lung, into which
it passes, have each a blood-vessel lying alongside, so that the
whole lung is thought to be full of blood. The inward passage
of the air is called respiration, the outward expiration, and this 10
double movement goes on continuously just so long as the
animal lives and keeps this organ in continuous motion ; it is
for this reason that life is bound up with the passage of the
breath outwards and inwards.

It is in the same way that the motion of the gills in fishes
takes place. When the hot substance in the blood throughout
the members rises, the gills rise too, and let the water pass 15
through, but when it is chilled and retreats through its
channels to the heart, they contract and eject the water.
Continually as the heat in the heart rises, continually on being
chilled it returns thither again. Hence, as in respiring animals
life and death are bound up with respiration, so in the other 20
animals class they depend on the admission of water.

Our discussion of life and death and kindred topics is now
practically complete. But health and disease also claim the
attention of the scientist, and not merely of the physician, in
so far as l an account of their causes is concerned. The
extent to which these two differ and investigate diverse pro
vinces must not escape us, since facts show that their inquiries 25
are, to a certain extent, at least conterminous. For physicians
of culture and refinement make some mention of natural
science, and claim to derive their principles from it, while the
most accomplished investigators into nature generally push
their studies so far as to conclude with an account of medical 3
principles.

1 Hammond reads ^XP 1 Tov - I* ls the business of the natural philosopher
also to discuss the causes of health and disease up to a certain point*.

INDEX

36 a 8o b =

Acid (taste) 4i b 6, 42 a 10, 19.
Active and Passive 6s b 16.
Activity 49* I.
Acute (perception) 44 b 14.
Actuality, actualization 52 a 30 ; cf.

Potentiality.
Actualize 46* 22, 54 b 8, 6i b 17 ; cf.

Realize, Exercise.
Actually 54 b 26 ; cf. Potentially.
Affections 50* i, 28, 53 a 22, 28, b 28,

54* 21, 56* 22, 78 b 26.
Age, old 36 a 14, 66 a 19, b 14, 6; b

10 ; cf. 78 b 28.

Air43 a 4,6, b 5, 46* 24, 7o a 25.
Amorous desire 6o b 5.
Analogous 43 b 7, 11, 69 b 17; cf.

79 a 2 ; cf. Proportionate.
Anatomy 56 b 2 ; cf. Dissection.
Anaxagoras 7O b 33.
Anger 53 a 22.
Anima (de) 36 b 10, 39 a 8, 16, 4O b

28, 49 b 30, 55 a 8, 24, 59 a 15,
74 b ii.

Animal (cf. Life) ; and Sensation
36 b u, 54 b 24, 67 b 25, 69 b 4.

Animals, and Sleep 54 b 23 ; and
Dreams 63 b 12 ; and Memory
5o a 15, 53 a 8.

Annuals 66 a 3.

Ants 44 b 12.

Aorta 58 a 15.

Appearance 6l b 5 ; cf. 48 14.

Apprehend 45 b 17 ; cf. Cognize.

Arithmetically expressible (propor
tions) 42 a 15 sqq.; cf. 39 b 28 sqq.

Ashes 4i b 4, 42 a 27, 7o a 13, 75 b 5.

Asphyxiate 44 b 33.

Astringent (savour) 42 a 19, (odour)

43 b 9-

Atomistic hypothesis 45 b 18.
Atrabilious 57 a 26, 64* 32 ; cf.

Excitable, Melancholic.
Attributes 36 b 4 sqq., 6s b 12.
Audible 37 a 12, 45 a 10.

Bees 44 b n, 67 a 4, 68 U 26, 75 a 4.
AR PS-

Being 46 b 27, 49 a 16, 18.

Bellows 8o a 20.

Bile 57 u 3i-

Bitter (savour) 42 a 13, 19 sqq.

Bituminous substances 44 b 33.

Bivalvular 68 b 19.

Black 42 a 26.

Blight 7o a 30.

Blood 58 a 13, 15, 6i b II, 69 a I, 7,

74 a 14, b 3, 80" 7.
Bloodless animals 66 a 5, 69 b 6, 74 b

2, 75 b 15. 79 a I-
Blue 42 a 24.
Bodies 37 a 7, (determinate) 39 a 27,

b II ; cf. Magnitudes 45 b 15

sqq.
Body, and Soul 36 a 8, 6s a 28 ; cf.

65 a 12 sqq.
Borysthenes 62 b 25.
Brain 38 b 29, 44 a 9, 30, 57 b 29, 69 a

21.

Breath 44 b 22 ; cf. Respiration.
Brimstone 44 b 33.
Buds 68 b 24.

Cause 37 a 12, 20, &c. ; four causes
55 b 14 ; efficient 77 a 25 ; illus
trated 62 b 27 sqq. ; cf. End, Final
Cause.

Carabi 76 b 32, 77 a 3.

Carcini 76 b 32, 77 a 3.

Cetaceans 76 b 13, 19.

Chance 55 b 9 ; cf. 38 a 30, 72 a 17 ;
cf. Fortuitous.

Chest ; cf. Thorax.

Children 53 b 6, 57 a 4, 14.

Choker 7o a 9.

Cockchafers 75 a 6.

Cognize 45 b 15, 52 b 7; cf. Appre
hend, Knowledge.

Coinstantaneous perception 47 a 14
sqq., 48 b 19 sqq.

Cold 43 b 16, 44 a 10, b i, 57 a 27

sqq., 4 sq
Colour 37 a 7,
sqq., 45 b 2I sqq.

74 *9 s qq-
7-40 1 27, 42 a 14

INDEX

Common sensibles 37* 8, 42 b 4, 10;

sensorium 55^ 19, 69 a 12.
Compounds 48 a 8 ; cf. Mixture.
Conception 49 b 24.
Concords 39 b 31, 40* 2. 47 b 2, 48 a

19.

Condense 43 a 28, 57 b 33.
Connate warmth 69 b 7.
Connatural breath 56 a 17.
Constitution, of animals (0u&lt;nf) 77 b

15, 78 a 6 ; of blood 8o a 6; cf.

62 b 6 ; (a-vffTatris, trvvtardvat) 77 a

26, 27, b 8, 23, ;8 b 26 ; cf. 38 b

29.
Continuity 45 a 27, b 30, 46 b 14, 48 b

20 (22 vulg.), 50* 7, 6o a 10.
Contraries, contrariety 4i b 14, 45 b

24, 26, 48 a 2, 53 b 27, 54 b i ; cf.

Opposites.
Co-ordinate sensibles 47 b 30, 48"

15-
Corporeal 45* 22, 23, 53 a 4; cf.

Material.

Crabs 76 b 32, 77 a 3.
Crickets 75 a 6.
Crimson 42 a 24.
Crocodile 75 b 28.
Crustaceans 75 b 9, 76 b 31, 77 U 2.
Custom 52 a 27, b 2.
Customary 5i b 13.
Cuttle-fish 37 b 7, 77 a 4.

Darkness 37 a 25, 32, b 5, 6, 39 a 20,
b i6.

Darnel 56 b 30.

Death, definition of 69 b 1 8, 79 a 22,
33 ; and life 37 a 15, 67 b 10 ; and
generation 78 b 22 ; violent and
natural 72 a 18, 78 b 24, 79 b 4 ;
painless 79 a 20.

Decay 4i b 29, 30, 79 a 32.

Define 43 b 18, 54 b 25.

Deliberation 53" 14.

Democritus 38 a 5, 42* 29, b 10, 64 a
5, n, 7i b 30, 72*3.

Determinate bodies 39 a 27 sqq.

Derangement 64 a 24.

Destruction 36 b 5, 65* 12 sqq., 78 b
22; cf. Disintegration, Dissolu
tion.

Die 72* n, 73* 23, 78 a 17; cf.
Death.

Digest 69 b 26, 74 :l 26.

Discern 42 b 13, 17, 45 b 15.

Discriminate 47 b 25.

Disease 36 a 18, 79 a 23, 8o b 22 ; cf.
Unhealthy, Morbid.

Disintegration 65 a 25; cf. Destruc
tion, Dissolution.

Disposition 77 b 18.

Dissection 74 b 9, 78 a 35 ; cf. Ana
tomy.

Dissolution (QQcipciv) 6s 11 20, 77 b
19, 22, 79 a 33 ; cf. Destruction,
Disintegration.

Divide (into species) 44 a 6.

Divisible, in actualization 49 a 12 ;
into minimal parts 4o b 5 sqq. ;
infinitely 45 b I sqq.; animals 68 a
27, b 10.

Divination 49 b 12, 62 b 12, 64 b 18.

Divinely-planned 63 b 14.

Dreams 58 * 33~64 b 18.

Dry 4i b 17, 18, 42 b 28, 43 a 2, 13,
b 5, 66 a 21, 23.

Dwarfs 53 a 31, b 6, 67* 32.

Earth 38 b 30, 4i a 30, b n.
Earthy 4i b 17, 18, 67 a 9.
Elaboration, of food 6"9 b 31 ; cf.

42 a 5, 43 b 1 6 ; of blood 8o a 6.
Elements 37 a 20, 4i b 12, 43 a 9.
Emanations 38 a 4, 4o a 15, 20, 43 b

2,64*6, 11.
Emotions 6o b 3 sqq.
Empedocles 37 b II, 24 sqq., 38 a 4,

4l a 4, 10, 46 a 26,73 a 15 sqq.,

77 a 32.
End 55 b 22 ; cf. Final Cause,

Purpose.
Environment 39 b 5, 46** 8, 6$ b 27,

72* 5, 12, 15,24.
Epiglottis 76 a 34.
Epilepsy 57 a 9.

Error 42 b 8, 6o b 3, 6i b 7, 65* 23.
Essence (of animal) 77 a 23, 78 b 33 ;

cf. Substance.
Eternal 65 b 29.
Euripides 43 b 30.

Evaporation 57 a 25, 29, 62 b 7, 69 b 3l.
Excess, in a ratio 39 29 ; of waking

54 b 6; of cold 74 b 19; of heat

77 b 2, 78 a 3, 79 a 25 ; of moisture

44 b i,66 b i.
Excitable 63* 17 ; cf. Atrabilious,

Melancholic.
Excrement, Excrementitious, 58*

2, 68 a 15 ; cf. Refuse, Waste.
Exercise, of a faculty 49 b 22 ; of

knowledge 41 b 23.
Exhalation 43 a 21 sqq., 43 b 2, 44 a

12.
Exhaustion 69 b 21 sqq., 74 b 13, 79 a

33-

INDEX

Expectation 49 b 12, 27.
Experience 62 b 16.
Extinction ; cf. Exhaustion.
Extremes 45 b 23, 24, 47 a 30.
Eye 37* 24-38* 20. 54 a 28.
Eyelids 44 b 26, 56 b 32, 57 b 4.

Faculty 36 a 2, 37 a 5, 47 b 18, 49 a I,

b 22, 54 a i 7 , b 13, 67*17,69*3;

cf. Potentiality.
Familiarity 64* 30.
Fat 66 a 23, b 2, 67* 4.
Fever 62 b 30, 79 a 25.
Figures, geometrical 42 b 20 sqq. ;

cf. 5o a 2 sqq., 52 b 7 sqq.
Final cause 55 b 17, 7i b 25 ; cf. 09 a

8 ; cf. End, Purpose.
Fineness of perception (*pt/3firi)

41*2; cf. 44 b 9.
Fire 4i b 10, 65 a 14, b 2 sqq., 69 b

21, 27, 7o a 3, 74 b 13.
Fish 44 b 8 sqq., 76 a I, 3, 24, 10,

7& b 34 , 8o b 15.
Flame 37 b 22, 6s b 23, 66 b 30, 69 b

33, 79 a 19-

Flowers, scents of 43 b 27, 44 a 33.
Fluid 75 b 16, 77 22 sqq.; cf.

Humidity, Moisture.
Food ; cf. Nutriment.
Force ; cf. Violence.
Fortuitous events, 52 b i; cf. Chance.
Fragrant 44* 18.
Freezing 47* 3 sqq.
Frogs 75 b 28.

Frost 37 b 22, 66 b 28, 7o a 28.
Fumid exhalation 43 a 21 sqq.
Function 36* 4, 54 a 26, 29.
Future (TO /leXAop) 49 b 10; cf. 63 b

29.

Gasp 71 a 30, b 13.

Generation 65 a 14, 78* 22, 79 a 29;

Generatione Animalium (de)

42 a 3.

Genus 48 b 25, 49 b 15, 65 a 4.
Geometry 5o a 2, 52 a 3.
Gills 76 a I sqq., o b 13.
God 62 b 20, 63 b 1 6, 64 a 21.
Gold 43 a 17.

Good, the 37 a I, 55 b 18, 25.
Graft 68 b 18, 22.
Grave (in music) 77 b 2.
Green (leek-) 42* 24.
Growth 4i b 30, 42 a 5, 5o b 7 ; cf.

Increase.

Habit ; cf. Custom, Familiarity.

Habituate 43* 2.

Harsh savour 42 a 19; odour 43 b

10.
Health, Healthy 36 a 17, 44 a 14, 23,

53 b 29, 64 b 23, 8o b 23.
Hearing 37=* 10, b 5, n, 39* 16, 45 a

10, 46 b 3, 16.
Heart 39 a 3, 56 I, s8 a 15, 17, 68 b

31, 69 a 4 sqq., b 10, 12, 74 b 7,

78 a 26sqq., 7 9 b 17.
Heat 4i b 29, 30, 42 a 5, 44* 23;

bodily 56 b 21, 70* 5 ; cf.

Warmth.

Hercules, Pillars of 62 b 24.
Hemydes 7o b 18, 7$ b 28.
History of Animals 77 a 5, 78 b I.
Holoptera 56* 14, 20.
Hot ; cf. Heat.
Humidity 66 a 26, b 21, 67* I ; cf.

Moisture.

Illusions 6o b 9, 6i b 8.

Image (tiSwXov) 38 a 12, 6i a 15, 64 a

5,11; ((fruvTavpi) cf. Presenta
tion.

Imagination; cf. Presentation.
Immersion, of dryness in fluid 45 a

14.

Imperceptible 4i a 5, 48 a 25, b 2, 16.
Imperfectly developed 55 a 7, 78 b 30.
Impression 50* 31, b 6, 16.
Incommensurable 39 b 30 sqq. ; cf.

42 a 13 sqq.

Incorruptible 65 b 2, 20.
Increase 65 b 31 ; cf. Growth.
Independent existence 6s b 14; cf.

Separate.
Individual time 47* 13, 49* 3, 5i a

26; cf. Indivisible.
Indivisible (a&iaipfTos) 48 b 14, 15,

49 a 26, 28, (ro/zof) 48 b 19, 21 ;

cf. Individual.
Inference 53 a 10 sqq. ; by inference

68 a 22 ; cf. 65 a 26, 69* 28.
Infinite 4O a 23, b 24, 45 b 3, 27.
Inhale 7i a 8.
Inhalation 43 b 2, 7i a 7 ; cf. 76 a 21,

8o b 9.

Inhibit 59 a 7, 6i b 6.
Inhibition 54 b 10, 26.
Insects 67 a 20 sqq., 75 a i- b 4.
Intellect 49 b 31 sqq., 5o a 16.
Intelligence 37 a I, $cP 13, 16, 58 b 2.
Intermediate colours and savours

42 a 12.

Interval, musical 46 a 3 ; of dis
tance 49 a 25.

INDEX

Invisible 39 b 21, 4o a 30, 49 a 25 ;

cf. 46 a 5.
Irregular colours 4o a 4.

Juxtaposition of colours 4o a 6 sqq.j

4l b 23,

Knipes 44 b 12.
Knowledge (TO

(fiTL(TTt]^rj) 65* 23, (roeu/) cf.

Apprehend, Thought.
Koriskos 5o b 31, 6l b 23, 24, 62 a

Land-animals 66 a 6 sqq., b 33, 74 b

25 sqq.
Learning 4l b 23, 5i a 21, b 7, 52 a 4,

65 a 23.
Life, and heat 69* 6, 74* 25, b 10 ;

and heat and moisture 66 a 18,

69 b 8 ; and nutrition 79* 30 ;

and respiration 67 12, 8o b 12,

19 ; long and short 64 b 19 sqq.,
66* 9 sqq.

Light 37 b 16 sqq., 38 a 29, 39 a 18,

b 16, 46 b 27, 47 a ii.
Likeness ((&lt;ci)i/)5o b 2 1 sqq., $l a 14,

I 5-

Limit 45 b 23, 46 a 19.
Liquid 47 a 7, 78 b 32 ; cf. Moist.
Living (distinction between living

and animal) 67 b 1 8 sqq.
Lizards 75 b 22.

Locomotion 36 18 ; cf. 68 a 1 8.
Longevity ; cf. Life.
Lung 7o b 12, 75 b 19, ;6 a 6, 77 a 13,

14.

Magnitudes 4O a 27, 30, 45 b 9, 46*

15, 48 b 15, 49* 20 ; physical and

mathematical 45 b 15.
Males and Females 66 b 10.
Mandragora $6 b 30.
Material (rrco/iariKoy) 53 a 22 ; cf.

Corporeal.

Mathematical quantities 45 b 11.
Matter 65 b n, 30, 66 a 20, 67 b 24,

78 a 6; cf. 77 b 16, 78 b 30.
Medical principles 8o b 3o; cf. 36*

20 sqq.

Medium (8eKrt&lt;oV) 65 a 22 ; of per
ception 45 a 7, 46 b 16, 47 a 9.

Melancholic 53 a 19 ; cf. Excitable,
Atrabilious.

Memory 49 b 3~53 b 10; definition

5o b 28, 5i a 14; organ of so a 13,

5i a 16.

Menses 59 b 28 sqq.
Mind (Suwoia) 52 b 10, 64 a 22; (vovs)

45 b 16; cf. Intellect, Reason;

external 72 a 22.
Mixture 4o a 31 sqq., 42* 12.
Mnemonic exercises 5i a 12.
Mnemonic loci 52 a 14.
Moisture 37 b 16, 43* 7, b 13, 47 a 7,

66 a 1 8, 22, 67 a I ; cf. Humidity,

Fluid.

Molluscs 76 b 31.

Morbid 54 b 6, 79 b 26 ; cf. Un
healthy, Disease.
Motion, Movement 46 a 20, 29, b 27,

28, 59 a 29; cf. 6s b 26; cf.
Stimuli.

Mouth 53 a 28, 68 a 10, 76 a 20.

Nature $2 a 27, 55 b 17, 63 b 14, 65*
27, 69 a 28, 7i b 26, 72 a 2, 14, 76*
17, 77 b 19, 78 b 24, 79 a 33, b I.

Natural warmth or heat of animals
66 b 32, 69 b 25, 7o a 22, 74 b 21,
8o a 17.

Natural History 42 b 25.

Natural Philosophers 4i b 2, 42 a 30.

Necessity 5i b 12, 55 b 26 ; cf. 77 a
25.

Nostrils 44 a 28, 73 a 17 sqq.

Number (of Senses) 44 b 19, 45 a 6.

Numerical ratio 39 b 22 sqq., 42 a i5
sqq.

Numerically one 46 b 22, 47 b 13. 24,

29, 49 a 14, 17.

Nutriment 44 a 16, 45 a 17, 56 a 34,
66 b 28, 69 a 32, 7o a 22, 26 ; of
flame 65 b 24, 66 b 31, 7o a 2.

Nutrition 36 b 17, 4i b 26 sqq., 43 b
21, 44 b 10, 45 a 8, 74 b 26.

Nutritive, Nutrient, part of soul, or
principle 54 a 13, b 32, 68 a 2, 69 a
26, 8o a 23.

Odorous 43 a 14, b 17 ; cf. Odour.
Odour 38 b 24, 42 b 26-45 b J &gt; 4^ a 20,

b i3-

Oesophagus 76 a 31.

Oil 4i a 25, 6o a 28.

Opinion 4Q b II, 5o a 16, 58 b 9, 25,
59 a 6.

Opposites 53 b 25, 65 b 4 ; cf. Con
traries.

Origination 59 b 3 ; cf. Principle,
Source.

Oviparous animals 7o b 17, 75 b 21.

INDEX

Oysters 7o b 32.

Pairs, of attributes of animals 36* 14.
Palm-tree 66 a 10.
Palpitation 79 b 19, 8o a 13.
Parts of Animals, The 68 b 32.
Passage through which respiration

is effected 57* 13.
Passages, of the eye 38 b 14 ; of the

blood vessels 73 b 3; cf. 8o b 16.
Passions 53 a 27 ; cf. Emotions.
Pericarp 4i a 14, 30.
Phantasms 5 i a 10; cf. Presentation.
Philaegides 64 b 2.
Phlegm 58 a 3, 63* 13.
Physical philosophers 36* 17, 7o b 6,

72 a 2.
Physicians 36 a 20, 63 a 5, 69 a 9, 8o b

23, 27.

Physics 36 b I.

Plants 54 a i6-78 b 27 passim.
Plato 72 b 6; cf. 37 b n.
Polyps 75 b 10.
Poppy 56 b 30.
Potable 42 a 29.
Potential 45 b 30.
Potentiality 41 b 20, 45 b 30, 47 b 14

sqq., 54 a 8, 18, 68 a 28, b 3, 79 a 2.
Potentially one 47 b 14.
Powers 65 a 16 ; cf. Faculty.
Presentation (0avrao-/ J ia) 49 b 30

(note 2)-64 b 8 passim.
Principle, of Science 36 b I, 8o b 28 ;

real 69 a 29 ; cf. Source.
Privation 39* 20, 4i b 24, 53 b 26.
Problem, The 56 a 29, 70** 18.
Proportionate 52 b 12, 15 ; cf. Ana
logous.

Psychical susceptibility 68 b 14.
Pulsation 79 b 19.

Pungent taste 42 a 19 ; odour 43 b 9.
Pupil, of eye 3& a 16, b 16.
Purple 40* i, 42 a 23.
Purpose 72 a i ; cf. End, Final

Cause.
Pythagoreans 39 a 31, 45 a 16.

Quality 4i b 16, 24, 45 b 4, 49 a 24.
Qualitative change 46 b 28, 47* 2,

65 b 30.
Quarter-tone 4o a I.

Rational discourse (\oyos) 37 a 12.

Realize a faculty 54 b 13 ; cf. Ac
tualize.

Reason 45 b 16; cf. Mind, Intellect,
Thought.

Reasoning ; cf. Inference.

Receptacle, of food 45 a 24, 68 a 24 ;
of blood 74 b 6.

Recollection 49" 6, 5i a l8~53 b 10,
65 a 22.

Red Sea 66 b 21.

Reflexion (ai&gt;dK\a&lt;ris) 37 b 8, 38 a 9,
(eidcoAov) 6i a 15, 64 b 9, ii.

Refrigeration 7o a 7, 23, 26, 30, 78 a
1 6, 28, 12, 19, 8o b 1 8.

Refuse 6$ b 17 ; cf. Waste, Excre
ment.

Regular colours 4o a 4.

Remember 49 b 3-5 3 b 10 ; to re
member dreams 56 a 27.

Respire $6 a 8 ; cf. Respiration.

Respiration 44 a 25, b 3, $6 a 8, 7o b
6-8o b 30.

Respiratory region 45 a 27.

Rheums 44* 13.

Roof of mouth 74 a 20.

Root 67 a 23, 68 a 10, b 19, 27.

Salt 4i b 4, 43 a 13, 6i b 16.

Sanguineous animals 66 a 5, 75 a 20,
76* 17 sqq.

Savour 39 a 6, 4o b 27~42 b 26, 43 b
15, 46 !l 20.

Saw-like formation of teeth 76 b u.

Sciences 48 b 31.

Scale, on eyes 38 a 24 ; cf. 44 b 26,
54 b 1 8.

Scolopendra 7i b 22.

Seals 75 b 29.

Season 77 b 15 ; cf. 7o a 28.

Seed 66 b 8, 68 b 17.

Sensation 36* 8, b 6, 54 a 8, b 30 sqq.,
68 b 14 ; definition of 54* 8, 59 b 4 ;
internal and external 56 a 21.

Sense, common and special 55 a 17,
$8 b 4 ; cf. Sensibles, Sensus corn-
munis.

Senses 44 b 19, 45 a 5.

Sensibles 39 a 6, 45 b 8, 46 b 25, 48 b
15, 49 a 2o; special 39 a 6, 45 b 4 ;
common 37 a 8, 42 b 5 sqq.; con
trariety in 42 b 1 8, 45 24 ;
minute 46 a 5 sqq.

Sensitiveness 68 b 13.

Sensorium, Sensory organ 39* 6 ;
special and common 49 a 17, 55 b
10 sqq., 58 b 28 ; 67 b 28, 6g a 10,
presence of affections in 59 a 24-
6o b 28, 6i a 26, b 22.

Sensus communis 5o a 10.

Separate existence 39 a 23, 46 a 6, 7,
54 a 13 ; cf. Independent.

INDEX

Separation of blood 58 a 21.
Sharp, Sharpness (opp. to blunt)

42 b 6, (opp. to grave) 47 b 3.
Sight, sense of 37* 22~38 b 15, 40*

16, 20, 58 b 3, 59 b 15 ; organ of

37 a 22-38 b 15 ; object of 45* 10;

cf. Colour.
Simple, bodies 45 b 19 ; objects 47*

1 8 ; ratio 39 b 30 sqq. ; (unXw)

55 a 9, 59 a 10, 20.
Simultaneous perception 47" 13

sqq. ; cf. Coinstantaneous.
Size of animals, cause of 66 b 22.
Slag 43 a 19.
Sleep 36 :i 14, 53 b 11-58* 32, $8 b i-

64 b 1 8 passim.
Smell, sense of 38 b 20 sqq., 43 a 2,

b 21 sqq., 44 b 20, 45 a 4, 47* 7 ;

medium of 42 b 26 sqq., 45" 7 sqq.,

46 b 14, 47 a 7, 9 ; object of 43" 3-

45 b I ; cf. Odour, Odorous ; organ

of 38 b 22 sqq., 44 a 28, b 4, 20 sqq.,

73 a 26.

Smoke 43 a 21 sqq., 65 b 25.
Smoky ; cf. Fumid.
Smooth things 37* 31, b 6, 6o :l 15

sqq.

Snakes 75 b 22.
Solid bodies 42 b 6.
Soul 36 a i, 6s a 27, 7o a 20, 77* 15 ;

essence of 67 b 14 ; parts or

faculties of 49 b 5, 50* 16, 54* 12,

67 b 17, 20, 25 ; the nutritive 54 a

13, 74 b 10 sqq. ; the sentient 5o a

28, 67 b 20 sqq., 68 b 2, 79* 2.
Sound 37 a 10, 38 b 20, 45 b 22, 46 a 2,

24, b 5 sqq., 48 a 20 sqq.
Source (npx*i of soul) 68 b 10, 69 a

6, (of life) 78 b 26.
Sparrows 66 b n.
Spasms 79 b 20.
Species of sensibles 42 a 19, 43 b 17,

45 b 21 sqq. ; opp. to genus 49* 17.
Specific 47 b 24.
Specifically 47 b 13, 27.
Speculative truth 37" 2.
Spirituous 57 a 16, 6i a 24.
Spongy lung 7o b 14, 75" 22, b 24,

78 a 13.

Spontaneity 53 b 24.
Star-stricken 7o a 30.
State, of a presentation 49 b 25, 5i a

16, 24, b 3; bodily 77 b 15, 18,

78 a i.
Stimuli 47 a 14. 21, 6o b 31. 63 a 7,

64 a 1 6.
Stomach 57 b 1 1, 69 a 2, 7o a 24.

Stones 43 a 15, 7o a 33.
Strattis 43 b 30.
Substance 65 b 5, 69 a 30.
Suffocation 7i a 31, b 13, 75 a 12, 27,

76* 29.
Superficial parts of sense-organs

59 b 7.

Superficies 39* 31, 6o a n.
Superposition of colours 4O a 6 sqq.,

b 1 6.

Supra-human 53 b 23.
Sweet 42* I sqq., 47 b 24-49

passim ; odour 43 b 10.
Swoon 55 b 5 sqq., 56 b 15.

Tadpole 76* 6.

Tangible 45 a 10.

Taste, sense of 36 b 15, 39 a i, 41 a
3, 47 :l 7 ; organ of 39* i ; object
of 4i b 28, 42 a i ; cf. Savour.

Tasteless 4i a 4, 43* n.

Terrestrial ; cf. Land Animals.

Testacea 43 a 3, 66 b 21.

Thorax 44 a 25, 72 b 31, 78 b 14.

Thought 5O a I sqq., b 29 sqq., 52 b
7 sqq.; cf. Intellect; object of
45 a 16; cf. 37 a 2, 50* 12.

Time 46 a 29, b I, 48 :l 24 sqq., b 1 6,
5o a 22; perception of 49 28, 5o a
8,9, n, b 1 8, 5i a 17.

Timaeus 37 II, 15, 72 b 6.

Tin 43 a 20.

Tongue 76 a 19.

Tortoises 68 b 15, 75 b 28, 79 a 6.

Touch, sense of 36 b 13, 38 b 30,
4i a 2, 3, 55 a 7, 27 ; object of 4i b
28, 55 a 10 ; cf. Tangible; organ

Transformation of words 46 b 6

sqq.
Translucency 38 a 14, 39 a 21, b 8,

42 b 29.

Treelike 67 b i.
Trees 67 a 10.
Tumours 79 a 24.

Unguents 6o a 27.

Unhealthy, Unwholesome 44 a 13,
17; cf. Disease, Morbid.

Vacuum 7i a 2.

Vapour 5o a 10 ; cf. Evaporation,

Exhalation.

Vaporous exhalation 43 a 30.
Veins 56 b I, 58 * 18, 74 b 7.
Violence, death due to 72 a 17, 74 b

17, 7^24, 7 9 a 33.

INDEX

Violet 42 a 24.

Viscosity 41 a 25, 6; a 8.

Vision ; cf. Sight.

Vital fire ;8 a 16.

Vitality 79 a 4.

Viviparous animals 75 b 20.

Volatilization 79 b 31, 8o a 15.

Waking 54* 2 sqq.

Warmth, natural 66 b 32, 6Q b 25,
7o a 22, 74 b 21, 8o a 17 ; cf. Heat.

Wasps 75 a 6.

Waste matter 45 a 19. 6s b 17, 66 b
6, 79* 24, b 20 ; cf. Refuse, Ex
crement.

Water s8 a 16, 39 a 21 sqq., 41 a 3,
23, 25, b 2, 42 b 28, 43 a 10, 46 b 14,

47 a 7, 6s a -i4, 7o b 4-
Water-animals 66 a n, b 33, 7o b I,
74 b 25 sqq.

Water-snakes 75 b 28.

Watery 43 a 20; cf. 43 a 15, 66 b 23,

67 a i.

Weight 45 b 5, 12, 53 b 2.
Wet ; cf. Moisture, Humidity.
Whales 76 b 15 sqq.
White 39 b 18, 4o b 14, 42 a 12, 17,

47 b I, 30 sqq., 49 a 5 sqq.
Will, control of 53 a 20, 21.
Wind-pipe 7i a 21, 73 a 19, 76 a 31,

33-

Wine 57 a 14, 6o a 29.
Wither 78 b 28, 79 b 2.
Wood 43 a 2.
Words 37* 14, 52 b 5-

Yellow 42 a 22.

Young, the very 5o b 6 ; cf. 43 b 6.
Youth 36 a 14, 67 b 10 ; definition of
79 a 3-

OXFORD

PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

BY HORACE HART, M.A.
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY

DE SPI RITU

J. F. DOBSON

PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF BRISTOL

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
1914

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK
TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY

HUMPHREY MILFORD M.A.

PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY

PREFACE

THIS treatise has been rejected as spurious by practically
all editors, one of the chief reasons being the confusion of
the senses assigned to aprrjpta. It is sometimes ascribed
to Theophrastus. Its author had certainly studied the
Aristotelian Corpus, and analogies may be traced to the
de Respiratione and some of the zoological treatises.

The earliest attempt to elucidate its numerous difficulties
was made by Daniel Furlan, who in 1605 appended a text
with comments and a Latin translation to the edition of
Theophrastus of which he and Adrian Turnebus were joint
editors. He apologizes for his temerity in approaching
this work, quod Julius Caesar Scaliger, vir extra com-
munem ingcniorum alcam positus&gt; frustra convertere et
commentariis explanarc conatus sit\ Jaeger, the latest
editor, calls the author a second Heraclitus .

The text, as given in Bekker s edition, is often untrans
latable, and the Latin version in the same Corpus, by an
anonymous author, is a free paraphrase, based in some
cases on a different text. Its seeming fluency often conceals
difficulties without explaining them. The emended text
in the Didot edition is more intelligible, and the translation
gives some help ; but many passages remain in a hopeless
state. It is to be regretted that the de Spiritu was
omitted by Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire from his translation
of all Aristotle.

Since this version was in proof, a new edition of the text
has appeared by W. W. Jaeger (Teubner, 1913). The
editor has taken from Furlan and others many useful con
jectures, and added some of his own. Though in some
cases his corrections appear unnecessary, the new text is

iv PREFACE

so great an improvement on Bekker that it has seemed
desirable to adapt this translation to the text of Jaeger s
edition.

No amount of emendation will remove the incoherence
of the work, which must be regarded rather as a collection
of Problems than as a finished treatise.

My best thanks are due to Mr. W. D. Ross, of Oriel
College, for numerous suggestions and criticisms which
have helped me greatly. I have also to thank Mr. R. W.
Livingstone, of Corpus Christ! College, Oxford, for his
kindness in allowing me to collate the MS. which is the
property of his College.

J. F. D.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER i.

The breath, being of bodily nature, must be maintained by some
method of nutrition. Nutriment may be supplied by the blood, which
ultimately nourishes all parts of the body. In this case there must
be a residue consequent on the process of digestion ; how can it be
excreted ? Difficulties are involved whether we assume that the
residue is finer or coarser than the nutriment.

CHAPTER 2.

Aristogenes supposes that the breath digests the air breathed into
the lungs ; this is to assume that the breath is different from the outside
air, and it may indeed be coarser. The digestion of the air is very
rapid and must be caused by the bodily heat. Respiration extends
only to the lungs ; how then is air carried to the lower parts ? Perhaps
in the form of a kind of excrement. There is a difficulty in the case
of non-respiratory creatures but perhaps they are falsely so-called.
Probably respiration of some sort is necessary to all. Aquatic animals
must take in air with their food, since no air is contained in water.

CHAPTER 3.

Empedocles and Democritus considered the process of respiration
but disregarded the purpose ; others assume even the process as
obvious. Its real purpose is refrigeration. The breath is uniformly
distributed through the body, and causes nutrition of the lower parts
and, apparently, of the bones, though in some parts we can trace
no air-ducts. These parts may be compared to plants, which live
and grow although they too have no air-ducts.

CHAPTER 4.

The three functions of the breath, respiration, pulsation, and assimi
lation of nutriment, are perceptible in different degrees by sense or
reason. The motive principle of respiration is within, probably in
the Soul. Nutrition is originated by respiration. Pulsation, though
a function of breath, is not connected with respiration, for variations
in respiration have no effect on the pulse. No rational purpose can
be assigned to pulsation, whereas the purposes of the other two
functions are obvious. It is an open question which of the three is
actually earliest.

VI CONTENTS

CHAPTER 5.

The breath is carried to the belly by a duct passing along the loins.
We cannot determine how far this breath is akin to Soul. The rela
tions of the internal to the external air in non- respiring creatures.
The warming and cooling of the internal air. The breath is not the
finest of all substances. It cannot pass through sinew. Some
characteristics of sinew and skin. Veins and arteries connect with
the intestines and the belly, and sinews and veins form connexions
between the bones.

CHAPTER 6.

The transformation of blood into flesh. Sinews are nourished from
the bones, or, perhaps more probably, bones from sinews. Mode of
nutrition of flesh. Blood is not universally dispersed through the
body in all animals. Nail is formed from sinew, and perhaps skin
from flesh, by a hardening process. Difficulties connected with hard-
and soft-shelled creatures suggest exceptions to the rule that the blood
is the universal nutriment.

CHAPTER 7.

Bones have various functions motion, support, covering, &c. All
are well adapted for their purposes. Movable bones are connected
by sinews, and those which have not to move are kept in place by
sinews.

CHAPTER 8.

Physiological inquiry must be supplemented by the investigation
of final causes. The purposes of bones, sinews, feet, and other parts
are various, but all serve their proper ends: e.g. flying creatures are
shaped in a way appropriate to flight.

CHAPTER 9.

The heat-principle active in our bodies produces different effects
in different creatures, just as the effect of fire on different inanimate
objects varies. Nature uses fire as an instrument and also as a
material. Nature is an intelligent agent and varies the quality of
the substance upon which the heat is to work, while the variations
of the heat are only quantitative. We must reject the hypothesis
of Empedocles, which would lead to the belief that there is no
difference of quality between, e.g., the bones of various animals.

The de Spirilu is found in the following MSS. :

(1) Z, Oxoniensis, I2th cent.; Corpus Christi College, Oxford con

sidered by Bekker and Jaeger the most important.

(2) LPQB & , an independent group (Jaeger, Introd., p. xxi).

L, Vaticanus 253, I4th cent.

/*, Vaticanus 1339, I2th or I3th cent.

Q, Marcianus 200, I2th cent.

B*, Palatinus Vaticanus 162, I5th or i6th cent.

DE SPIRITU

WHAT is the mode of growth of the natural breath and 4&
its mode of maintenance ? For we see that it increases in
volume and strength in accordance with both changes of
age and the varying condition of the body. May we sup
pose that it increases as the other parts do, through the
addition of some substance to it ? Now it is nutriment
that is thus added to living creatures ; so that we must 5
consider the nature and origin of the nutriment in this case.

Nutrition may result in either of two ways by means
of respiration, or, as in the case of the other parts of the
body, by the digestive process consequent on the introduc
tion of the nutriment ; and of the two the process by
means of the nutriment l is perhaps the more likely ; for
body is nourished by body, and the breath is of the nature
of body.

What then is the method ? Clearly we must suppose 10
that the breath is nourished by drawing and digesting
nutriment from the vein-system, for the blood is the ulti
mate and universal nutriment. So the breath receives
nutriment into the hot element as into its vessel and re
ceptacle. 2

The air 3 draws the nutriment and imparts the activity,
and applying to itself the digestive power is the cause of
its own growth and nutrition. 4

Perhaps there is nothing absurd in this, but rather in 15
the proposition that the breath is originally derived from
the nutriment ; for that which is akin to the soul, as the
breath is, is purer unless we were to say that the soul

1 i.e. by digestion, 481* 8.

2 Omitting KUI in 1. 12, and reading ircptf\ov in 1. 13 (W. D. R.).
Jaeger s supposition of a lacuna is then unnecessary.

3 arjp is here identified with breath ; contrast 48 i b ^sqq.

4 These words are curious in view of 482*16 and other passages,
where the breath is supposed to be for the sake of refrigerating the
body.

AR. D. S. B

48i a DE SPIRITU

itself is a later product than the body, arising when the
seeds are sorted out l and move towards the development
of their nature.

Again, if 2 there is some residue left from all nutriment,
20 by what passage is it ejected in this case ? It is not reason
able to suppose that it is by the process of exhalation, for
this succeeds immediately to the inhalation. 3 Clearly there
remains only the explanation that it is through the ducts
of the wind-pipe. 4

The residue which is secreted from it must be either
finer or coarser ; in either case there is a grave difficulty ; 5
if the breath is assumed to be the purest of all substances,
how can the residue be finer than the breath ? while if
it is coarser we shall have to assume that there are certain
ducts^ of larger size. 6

25 The assumption that we take in and expel the breath
by the same ducts is again strange and unreasonable.

Such then are the questions raised by the theory that
the breath is maintained and increased by nutriment.

Aristogenes supposes that the growth of the breath is 2
due to respiration, the air being digested in the lungs ;
30 for the breath, he holds, is also a form of nutriment, and
48i b is distributed into the various vessels, and 7 the refuse is
ejected again.

This theory involves more difficulties, for what can cause
this digestion? Apparently the breath digests itself, as it
digests other things ; but this is strange intrinsically, unless
the breath is different from the external air. If it is *
different, perhaps the bodily warmth in it may cause
digestion.

1 i. e. from the ply/M. Cf. de Caelo y iii. 3O5 b 4, of Empedocles.

2 Reading ei re.

3 Cf. ch. ii. 481 b 9 cvQvs yap fj.fra rfjv d(rirvor)V 77 (K.KVOT).

4 apTTjpias which seems to mean here 17 rpax^a riprqpta, the trachea ;
but elsewhere in the treatise dprrfpiai must mean air-ducts in general,
vide infra, 482 b 8.

5 Adopting the reading which is assumed by the Latin translation :

arOTTOI/* (I TOVTO . . . KaOapODTllTOV, {rTCOS XfTTTOTf pOV j) ft Sf KT\.

6 Here, perhaps, we should place 48l b 5~8, However ... not con
vincing .

7 Insert Km after

CHAPTER 2 4 8i l

1 However, it may be reasonably maintained that the 5
breath 2 is coarser than the outside air, since it is combined
with the moisture from the vessels and from the solid parts
in general ; so that digestion will be a process towards
corporeality ; but the theory that it is finer is not con
vincing.

Moreover, the rapidity of its digestion is contrary to
reason ; for the exhalation follows immediately on the
inhalation. What then is the agent which so quickly 10
changes and modifies it ?

We must naturally suppose that it is the warmth of the
body, and the evidence of sense supports this, for the air
when exhaled is warm.

Again, if the substance which is digested is in the lungs
and the wind-pipe, the active warmth must also reside
there : but the common view is that it is not so, but that
the nutriment is evaporated by the motion of the breath. 3

It is still more astonishing if the breath in process of 15
digestion attracts the warmth to itself or receives it because
some other agent sets it in motion ; moreover, on this theory
it is not in itself the primary moving cause. 4

Then again, respiration extends as far as the lungs only,
as the followers of Aristogenes themselves state ; but the
natural breath is distributed throughout the whole body.
If it is from the lungs 5 that the breath is distributed to
all parts of the body, including those lower than the lungs, 20
how can the process of its digestion be so rapid ? This
is more remarkable and involves a greater difficulty ; for
the lungs 5 cannot distribute the air to the lower parts
during the actual process of its digestion. And yet to
some extent it would seem that this must be the case,
if the digestion takes place in the lungs, and the lower
parts also are affected by the respiration.

1 Lines 5-8 seem to be out of place : they should, perhaps, come
at a 25.

2 Reading avro for auroV, and o&gt; for ovra in 1. 6. If avrov is read,
it must refer to the air, which is unintelligible.

3 Here, perhaps, we should add lines 25-26 (infra): But the con
clusion . . . contact .

4 Which was assumed in b 2 : t IKOS . . . wr 1 avrov.

5 I take TOVTOV (1. 19), roCro (1. 22), to refer to the lungs.

B 9

48i b DE SPIRITU

25 l But the conclusion in this case is still more remarkable
and important namely that the digestion is effected, as it
were, entirely by transit and contact.

This also is unreasonable, and still more untenable, 2

since it assumes that the same account can be given of

the nutriment and the excretions ; 3 while if we assume

that digestion is effected by any of the other internal parts,

30 the objections already stated will apply: unless we were

to assume that excrement is not formed from all nutriment,

482** nor in all animals, any more than in plants, for we cannot

find it in every one of the bodily parts, or even if we do,

at least not in all animals. 4

But according to this view the vessels grow just like the
other parts, and as they become broadened and distended,
5 the volume of air which flows in and out is increased : and
if there must inevitably be some air contained in them,
the actual question which we are now asking, 5 What is
the air which naturally exists in them ; and how does this
increase under healthy conditions ? will be obvious from
the preceding statement.

How is the natural breath nourished and developed in
the case of creatures which have not respiration ? For in
their case the nutriment can no longer come from without.
If in the former case it was from forces within, and from
the common nutriment of the body, it is reasonable to say
10 that the same is true in their case also, for similar effects
come in like manner from the same causes unless really
in the case of these creatures too it is from without, like
their perception of smell ; but then they must have some
process similar to respiration. 6

Under this head we might raise the question whether
such creatures can truly be called non-respiratory point
ing to this argument and also to the way in which they
15 take in nutriment ; for we should say that they must draw

1 This seems to be out of place. Cf. supra, 1. 14.

2 Reading XoyoSecVrf/jof and \6yos.

8 i. e. that the nutriment of the lower parts is really a TrfpiYrwpi.
4 Keeping the reading of the MSS. el de ^ OVTI yf navTos.
r&gt; Reading TOVTO niVo (o) ^rftrat, TI S o (frvoiKuS Kal KT\. (W. D. R.).
c Keeping OVT&S yf, with Z.

CHAPTER 2 482

in some breath at the same time ; and we should further
urge that they must respire for the sake of refrigeration,
which they must require just as other creatures do.

But if in their case the refrigeration takes place through
the diaphragm, it is clear that the entry of the air must
also be by the same passage ; so that there is some process
similar to respiration.

But it cannot be determined how or by what agency
the air is drawn in ; or if there is a drawing in, how the
entry takes place unless, indeed, it is spontaneous. This 20
is a subject for separate investigation.

But how is the natural breath nourished and increased
in the case of creatures that live in the water ? Apart from
their inability to respire, we say further that air cannot
exist in water : so it only remains to say that in their case
it is by means of the food : and so either all creatures are
not uniform in their methods, or else in the case of the
others also 1 it is by means of the food. Such are the 25
three possible theories, of which one must be right. So
much, then, as regards the nutrition and growth of the
breath.

3 With regard to respiration, some philosophers such as
Empedocles and Democritus do not deal with its purpose,
but only describe the process ; others do not even deal 30
with the process at all, but assume it as obvious. But
we ought further to make it quite clear whether its purpose
is refrigeration. For if the bodily heat is inherent in the
upper parts, it follows that the lower parts would have
no need of refrigeration : 2 but the heat is not in the upper
parts only, for as a matter of fact the innate breath per
vades the whole body, and its origin is from the lungs.

The inspired breath also i.s thought to be distributed
uniformly over all parts, so that it remains to be proved 35
that this is not the case. 3

Again, it is strange if the lower parts do not require

1 Omitting ra ewypa a 25- Cf. the Latin translation.

2 Read OLK av ert dt oiro {ra) KUTCO. Cf. the Latin translation.

3 i. e. that the lower parts require no refrigeration.

482 b DE SPIRITU

some motive force and, as it were, some nutriment. And l
it is strange that it should no longer be for the sake of
refrigeration, if it does pervade the whole.

Further, the process of the breath s distribution in
general is imperceptible, and so is its speed ; and again,
the matter of its counter-flow, if, as assumed, it is from all
parts, is remarkable, unless it flows back from the most
5 remote parts in some different way, while in its proper and
primary sense the action takes place from the regions
about the heart.

In many instances such a want of symmetry in functions
and faculties may be observed.

However, it is at any rate 2 strange if breath is dis
tributed even into the bones for they say that this is the
case, and that it passes there from the air-ducts. Therefore,
as I have shown, we must consider the respiration its pur
pose, and the parts which it affects, and how it affects them.
10 Again, it appears 3 that nutriment is not carried by the air-
ducts to all parts, for instance to the vessels themselves
and certain other parts ; but nevertheless plants, which
have not air-ducts, live and receive nourishment. 4 This
question belongs rather to a treatise on methods of
nutrition.

Whereas there are three motions belonging tc the breath 4
15 in the windpipe respiration, pulsation, and a third which
introduces and assimilates the nutriment we must define
how and where and for what purpose each takes place.

Of these, the motion of the pulse is perceptible by the
senses wherever we touch the body. That of the respira
tion is perceptible up to a certain point, but is recognized
20 in the majority of parts by a reasoning process. That of
nutrition is in practically all parts dcterminable by reason
ing, but by sense in so far as it can be observed from its
results.

Now clearly the respiration has its motive principle from
the inward parts, whether we ought to call this principle

1 Understand (UTOTTOV ) otWrt . . . fir;, rejecting Jaeger s emendation
OVK (tu 1 ) Ti. 2 Read yovv for ovv.

3 Reading (jtaivertu. 4 Rejecting Jaeger s

CHAPTER 4 482

a power of the soul, the soul, or some other combination
of bodies which through their agency causes this attraction ;
and the nutritive faculty would seem to be caused by the 25
respiration, for the respiration corresponds to it, and is in
reality similar to it. And to discover whether the whole
body is not equable 1 with regard to the time taken by
such motion, or whether there is no difference as to its
simultaneity, we must consider all the parts.

The pulse is something peculiar and distinct from the
other motions and in some respects may be seen to be
contingent, assuming that when there is an excess of 30
warmth in a fluid, that fluid which is evaporated must set
up a pulsation owing to the air being intercepted in the
interior, and pulsation must arise in the originating part
and in the earliest stage, since it is inborn in the earliest
parts. For it arises firstly and in the greatest degree in
the heart, and thence extends to the other parts. Perhaps
this must be an inseparable consequence of the essential 35
nature underlying the living creature, which is manifested
when the creature is in a condition of activity.

That the pulse has no connexion with the respiration
is shown by the following indication whether one breathes 483 a
quickly or regularly, violently or gently, 2 the pulse remains
the same and unchanged, but it becomes irregular and
spasmodic owing to certain bodily affections and in con
sequence of fear, hope, and anguish affecting the soul.

Next we ought to consider whether the pulse occurs also 5
in the arteries and with the same rhythm and regularity. 3
This does not appear to be so in the case of parts widely
separated, and, 4 as has been noted, it seems to serve no
purpose whatsoever.

For, on the other hand, the respiration and reception of
food, whether they are regarded as quite independent or 10
as correlated, clearly exist for a purpose, and admit of
rational explanation.

1 Omit comma after ^ and full stop after

2 Reading npaov.

3 Reading Km 6 avrbs &v pi dpat xai o/^aXor,

4 There is no passage in the present treatise to which these words
can refer.

483 a DE SPIRITU

And of the three, we may reasonably say that the
pulsatory and respiratory motions are prior to the other,
for nutrition assumes their pre-existence. Or is this not
so ? for respiration begins when the young is separated
from the mother ; the reception of nutriment, and nutrition,
both while the embryo is forming and after it is formed ;
but the pulsation at the earliest stage, as soon as the heart
15 begins to form, as is evident in the case of eggs. So the
pulse comes first, and resembles an activity and not an in
terception of the breath, unless that also can conduce
towards its activity.

They say that the breath which is respired is carried 5
into the belly, not through the gullet that is impossible

20 but there is a duct along the loins through which the
breath is carried by the respiration from the trachea into
the belly and out again: and this can be perceived by the
sense.

The question of this perception raises a difficulty : for if
the windpipe alone has perception, does it perceive by
means of the wind which passes through it, or by its bulk

25 or by its bodily constitution ? Or if the air comes first
below soul, may it perceive by means of this air which is
superior and prior in origin ?

What then is the soul ? They make it out to be a.
potentiality which is the cause of such a motion as this.
Or is it clear that you will not be right in impugning those
who say it is the rational and spirited faculty ? for they
too refer to these as potentialities.

3 o But if the soul resides in this air, the air is at any rate
a neutral substance. Surely, if it becomes animate or
becomes soul, it suffers some change and alteration, and
so naturally moves towards what is akin to it, and like
grows by the addition of like. Or is it otherwise? for it
may be contended that the air is not the whole of soul
but is something which contributes to this potentiality or

35 in this sense makes it, 1 and that which has made it is its
principle and foundation.

1 Reading &gt;7/&gt;, ^ ouru&gt; TUVT&gt;JV noi .wv.

CHAPTER 5 483

In the case of non-respiring creatures, 1 where the internal
air is not mixed with the external or is this not the case,
is it rather mixed in some other way than by respiration ?
what is the difference between the air in the air-duct and
the outside air? It is reasonable perhaps inevitable to
suppose that the former surpasses the latter in fineness.

Again, is it warm by its inherent nature or by the
influence of something else ? For it seems that the inner 5
air is just like the outer, but it is helped 2 by the cooling.
But which is really the case ? for when outside it is soft,
but when enclosed the air becomes breath, being as it were
condensed and in some manner distributed through the
vessels. Or must it be mixed in some way, when it moves
about in the fluids, and among the solid particles of the
body? It is not, therefore, the finest of substances, if it
is mixed. We may, however, reasonably expect that the 10
substance which is first capable of receiving soul should be
the finest, unless, indeed, soul is something such as has
been described, i. e. something not pure nor unmixed : and 3
that the air-duct should be capable of receiving the breath,
while the sinew is not.

There is this difference too, that the sinew is tensible,
but the air-duct is easily broken, just like a vein.

The skin contains veins, sinews, and air-ducts veins 15
because when pricked it exudes blood, sinews because it is
elastic, air-ducts because air is breathed through it for
only an air-duct can admit air.

The veins must have pores in which 4 resides the bodily
heat which heats the blood as if in a caldron ; for it is not 20

1 483 1 i. Substituting a dash for the full stop after eo&gt; (\V. D. R.).
This seems to be the only way of translating the words as they stand.
The relative use of Iva is found occasionally in Attic writers. In
Bonitz Index the only instances given are ir nfp, Problems 876 a 33,
and "iva in a quotation from Euripides, Rhetoric 137^32 and Prob.
917* 14; but as examples occur sporadically from the time of Homer
to that of Lucian, the construction must at any rate have been possible
to the author of the de Spiritu.

2 Apparently an echo of de Resp. 474^4, where Kantyvi-is l helps
Trpos rai Ttjv T//I- &lt;p0opav t i. e. is a safeguard against destruction by excess
of 0fp/j.6v.

3 ri)v &lt;8 ) apTrjpiav. So, perhaps, the Latin translation.

4 Reading eV t,ls.

483 b DE SPIRITU

hot by nature, but is diffused like molten metals. [* For
this reason too the air-duct becomes hardened, and has
moisture both in itself and in the coats which surround its
hollow passage. 1 ]

2 It is also proved both by dissection and by the fact
that the veins and air-ducts, which apparently conduct the

25 nutriment, connect with the intestines and the belly.
From the veins the nutriment is distributed to the flesh
not sideways from the veins but out at their mouths, as
it were through pipes. For fine veins run sideways 3 from

30 the great vein and the windpipe along each rib, and a vein
and an air-duct always run side by side. 4

The sinews and veins form the connexion between the
bones, joining them with the centre of the body, and also
form the meeting-place 5 between the head and the body,
through which fishes receive nutriment and breathe ; if

35 they did not respire, they would die immediately on being

taken out of the water.

484** But it is plain even from observations of sense that the
veins and air-ducts connect with each other ; but this would
not occur if the moisture did not require breath and the
breath moisture, because there is warmth both in sinew,
in air-duct, and in vein, and that which is in the sinew is
5 hottest and most similar to that of the veins. Now the
heat seems unsuited to the space where the breath is
located, especially with a view to refrigeration: but if the
animal produces and as it were re-kindles the heat by heat
from without, then there may well be heat there. Besides
this, permanence is in a sense natural to all things which
have warmth, provided that nothing resists or cools it ; G

10 for that all things require refrigeration is practically proved
by the fact that the blood retains its heat in the veins and
as it were shelters it there ; so when the blood has flowed

1 This passage seems to be out of place.

2 Here again there seems to be a dislocation, for it is not clear what
is proved by dissection.

3 Omitting $Xf#wi/.

4 Cf. the account of the veins in H.A. 5i3 b 29-

5 L. and S. The sutures of the skull , which is absurd ; Lat. trans.
magnum capitis os .

6 Reading vv^vrov TTIOS . . . Kara-^iixovros on KT\.

CHAPTER 5 484*

out it loses its heat, and the creature dies, through the liver
having no air-duct. 1

6 Does the seed pass through the air-duct? Is its passage
due also to pressure, and does this take place only in 15
process of emission? 2 Through this we have evidence
of the transformation of the blood into fle