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Organon I Categories
Organon II - On Interpretation
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Aristotle Categories
[Translated by E. M. Edghill]
1
Things are said to be named equivocally when, though they
have a common name, the definition corresponding with the
name differs for each. Thus, a real man and a figure in a picture
can both lay claim to the name animal; yet these are
equivocally so named, for, though they have a common name,
the definition corresponding with the name differs for each. For
should any one define in what sense each is an animal, his
definition in the one case will be appropriate to that case only.
On the other hand, things are said to be named univocally
which have both the name and the definition answering to the
name in common. A man and an ox are both animal, and these
are univocally so named, inasmuch as not only the name, but
also the definition, is the same in both cases: for if a man
should state in what sense each is an animal, the statement in
the one case would be identical with that in the other.
Things are said to be named derivatively, which derive their
name from some other name, but differ from it in termination.
Thus the grammarian derives his name from the word
grammar, and the courageous man from the word courage.
2
Forms of speech are either simple or composite. Examples of
the latter are such expressions as the man runs, the man
wins; of the former man, ox, runs, wins.
Of things themselves some are predicable of a subject, and are
never present in a subject. Thus man is predicable of the
individual man, and is never present in a subject.
By being present in a subject I do not mean present as parts
are present in a whole, but being incapable of existence apart
from the said subject.
Some things, again, are present in a subject, but are never
predicable of a subject. For instance, a certain point of
grammatical knowledge is present in the mind, but is not
predicable of any subject; or again, a certain whiteness may be
present in the body (for colour requires a material basis), yet it
is never predicable of anything.
Other things, again, are both predicable of a subject and present
in a subject. Thus while knowledge is present in the human
mind, it is predicable of grammar.
There is, lastly, a class of things which are neither present in a
subject nor predicable of a subject, such as the individual man
or the individual horse. But, to speak more generally, that which
is individual and has the character of a unit is never predicable
of a subject. Yet in some cases there is nothing to prevent such
being present in a subject. Thus a certain point of grammatical
knowledge is present in a subject.
3
When one thing is predicated of another, all that which is
predicable of the predicate will be predicable also of the subject.
Thus, man is predicated of the individual man; but animal is
predicated of man; it will, therefore, be predicable of the
individual man also: for the individual man is both man and
animal.
If genera are different and co-ordinate, their differentiae are
themselves different in kind. Take as an instance the genus
animal and the genus knowledge. With feet, two-footed,
winged, aquatic, are differentiae of animal; the species of
knowledge are not distinguished by the same differentiae. One
species of knowledge does not differ from another in being
two-footed.
But where one genus is subordinate to another, there is nothing
to prevent their having the same differentiae: for the greater
class is predicated of the lesser, so that all the differentiae of
the predicate will be differentiae also of the subject.
4
Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance,
quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or
affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance
are man or the horse, of quantity, such terms as two cubits
long or three cubits long, of quality, such attributes as white,
grammatical. Double, half, greater, fall under the category
of relation; in a the market place, in the Lyceum, under that of
place; yesterday, last year, under that of time. Lying, sitting,
5
Substance, in the truest and primary and most definite sense of
the word, is that which is neither predicable of a subject nor
present in a subject; for instance, the individual man or horse.
But in a secondary sense those things are called substances
within which, as species, the primary substances are included;
also those which, as genera, include the species. For instance,
the individual man is included in the species man, and the
genus to which the species belongs is animal; these, therefore
that is to say, the species man and the genus animal, are
termed secondary substances.
It is plain from what has been said that both the name and the
definition of the predicate must be predicable of the subject. For
instance, man is predicted of the individual man. Now in this
case the name of the species man is applied to the individual,
for we use the term man in describing the individual; and the
definition of man will also be predicated of the individual man,
for the individual man is both man and animal. Thus, both the
name and the definition of the species are predicable of the
individual.
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6
Quantity is either discrete or continuous. Moreover, some
quantities are such that each part of the whole has a relative
position to the other parts: others have within them no such
relation of part to part.
Instances of discrete quantities are number and speech; of
continuous, lines, surfaces, solids, and, besides these, time and
place.
In the case of the parts of a number, there is no common
boundary at which they join. For example: two fives make ten,
but the two fives have no common boundary, but are separate;
the parts three and seven also do not join at any boundary. Nor,
to generalize, would it ever be possible in the case of number
that there should be a common boundary among the parts; they
are always separate. Number, therefore, is a discrete quantity.
The same is true of speech. That speech is a quantity is evident:
for it is measured in long and short syllables. I mean here that
speech which is vocal. Moreover, it is a discrete quantity for its
parts have no common boundary. There is no common
boundary at which the syllables join, but each is separate and
distinct from the rest.
A line, on the other hand, is a continuous quantity, for it is
possible to find a common boundary at which its parts join. In
the case of the line, this common boundary is the point; in the
case of the plane, it is the line: for the parts of the plane have
also a common boundary. Similarly you can find a common
boundary in the case of the parts of a solid, namely either a line
or a plane.
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7
Those things are called relative, which, being either said to be of
something else or related to something else, are explained by
reference to that other thing. For instance, the word superior is
explained by reference to something else, for it is superiority
over something else that is meant. Similarly, the expression
double has this external reference, for it is the double of
something else that is meant. So it is with everything else of
this kind. There are, moreover, other relatives, e.g. habit,
disposition, perception, knowledge, and attitude. The
significance of all these is explained by a reference to
something else and in no other way. Thus, a habit is a habit of
something, knowledge is knowledge of something, attitude is
the attitude of something. So it is with all other relatives that
have been mentioned. Those terms, then, are called relative, the
nature of which is explained by reference to something else, the
preposition of or some other preposition being used to indicate
the relation. Thus, one mountain is called great in comparison
with son with another; for the mountain claims this attribute by
comparison with something. Again, that which is called similar
must be similar to something else, and all other such attributes
have this external reference. It is to be noted that lying and
standing and sitting are particular attitudes, but attitude is itself
a relative term. To lie, to stand, to be seated, are not themselves
attitudes, but take their name from the aforesaid attitudes.
It is possible for relatives to have contraries. Thus virtue has a
contrary, vice, these both being relatives; knowledge, too, has a
contrary, ignorance. But this is not the mark of all relatives;
double and triple have no contrary, nor indeed has any such
term.
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Now the head, the hand, and such things are substances, and it
is possible to know their essential character definitely, but it
does not necessarily follow that we should know that to which
they are related. It is not possible to know forthwith whose
head or hand is meant. Thus these are not relatives, and, this
being the case, it would be true to say that no substance is
relative in character. It is perhaps a difficult matter, in such
cases, to make a positive statement without more exhaustive
examination, but to have raised questions with regard to details
is not without advantage.
8
By quality I mean that in virtue of which people are said to be
such and such.
Quality is a term that is used in many senses. One sort of
quality let us call habit or disposition. Habit differs from
disposition in being more lasting and more firmly established.
The various kinds of knowledge and of virtue are habits, for
knowledge, even when acquired only in a moderate degree, is, it
is agreed, abiding in its character and difficult to displace,
unless some great mental upheaval takes place, through disease
or any such cause. The virtues, also, such as justice, selfrestraint, and so on, are not easily dislodged or dismissed, so as
to give place to vice.
By a disposition, on the other hand, we mean a condition that is
easily changed and quickly gives place to its opposite. Thus,
heat, cold, disease, health, and so on are dispositions. For a man
is disposed in one way or another with reference to these, but
quickly changes, becoming cold instead of warm, ill instead of
well. So it is with all other dispositions also, unless through
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The fourth sort of quality is figure and the shape that belongs to
a thing; and besides this, straightness and curvedness and any
other qualities of this type; each of these defines a thing as
being such and such. Because it is triangular or quadrangular a
thing is said to have a specific character, or again because it is
straight or curved; in fact a things shape in every case gives rise
to a qualification of it.
Rarity and density, roughness and smoothness, seem to be
terms indicating quality: yet these, it would appear, really
belong to a class different from that of quality. For it is rather a
certain relative position of the parts composing the thing thus
qualified which, it appears, is indicated by each of these terms.
A thing is dense, owing to the fact that its parts are closely
combined with one another; rare, because there are interstices
between the parts; smooth, because its parts lie, so to speak,
evenly; rough, because some parts project beyond others.
There may be other sorts of quality, but those that are most
properly so called have, we may safely say, been enumerated.
These, then, are qualities, and the things that take their name
from them as derivatives, or are in some other way dependent
on them, are said to be qualified in some specific way. In most,
indeed in almost all cases, the name of that which is qualified is
derived from that of the quality. Thus the terms whiteness,
grammar, justice, give us the adjectives white, grammatical,
just, and so on.
There are some cases, however, in which, as the quality under
consideration has no name, it is impossible that those
possessed of it should have a name that is derivative. For
instance, the name given to the runner or boxer, who is so
called in virtue of an inborn capacity, is not derived from that of
any quality; for lob those capacities have no name assigned to
them. In this, the inborn capacity is distinct from the science,
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also the case with reference to justice. Moreover, one and the
same thing may exhibit a quality in a greater degree than it did
before: if a thing is white, it may become whiter.
Though this is generally the case, there are exceptions. For if we
should say that justice admitted of variation of degree,
difficulties might ensue, and this is true with regard to all those
qualities which are dispositions. There are some, indeed, who
dispute the possibility of variation here. They maintain that
justice and health cannot very well admit of variation of degree
themselves, but that people vary in the degree in which they
possess these qualities, and that this is the case with
grammatical learning and all those qualities which are classed
as dispositions. However that may be, it is an incontrovertible
fact that the things which in virtue of these qualities are said to
be what they are vary in the degree in which they possess them;
for one man is said to be better versed in grammar, or more
healthy or just, than another, and so on.
The qualities expressed by the terms triangular and
quadrangular do not appear to admit of variation of degree,
nor indeed do any that have to do with figure. For those things
to which the definition of the triangle or circle is applicable are
all equally triangular or circular. Those, on the other hand, to
which the same definition is not applicable, cannot be said to
differ from one another in degree; the square is no more a circle
than the rectangle, for to neither is the definition of the circle
appropriate. In short, if the definition of the term proposed is
not applicable to both objects, they cannot be compared. Thus it
is not all qualities which admit of variation of degree.
Whereas none of the characteristics I have mentioned are
peculiar to quality, the fact that likeness and unlikeness can be
predicated with reference to quality only, gives to that category
its distinctive feature. One thing is like another only with
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9
Action and affection both admit of contraries and also of
variation of degree. Heating is the contrary of cooling, being
heated of being cooled, being glad of being vexed. Thus they
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10
The proposed categories have, then, been adequately dealt with.
We must next explain the various senses in which the term
opposite is used. Things are said to be opposed in four senses:
(i) as correlatives to one another, (ii) as contraries to one
another, (iii) as privatives to positives, (iv) as affirmatives to
negatives.
Let me sketch my meaning in outline. An instance of the use of
the word opposite with reference to correlatives is afforded by
the expressions double and half; with reference to contraries
by bad and good. Opposites in the sense of privatives and
positives are blindness and sight; in the sense of
affirmatives and negatives, the propositions he sits, he does
not sit.
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11
That the contrary of a good is an evil is shown by induction: the
contrary of health is disease, of courage, cowardice, and so on.
But the contrary of an evil is sometimes a good, sometimes an
evil. For defect, which is an evil, has excess for its contrary, this
also being an evil, and the mean. which is a good, is equally the
contrary of the one and of the other. It is only in a few cases,
however, that we see instances of this: in most, the contrary of
an evil is a good.
In the case of contraries, it is not always necessary that if one
exists the other should also exist: for if all become healthy there
will be health and no disease, and again, if everything turns
white, there will be white, but no black. Again, since the fact
that Socrates is ill is the contrary of the fact that Socrates is
well, and two contrary conditions cannot both obtain in one and
the same individual at the same time, both these contraries
could not exist at once: for if that Socrates was well was a fact,
then that Socrates was ill could not possibly be one.
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12
There are four senses in which one thing can be said to be
prior to another. Primarily and most properly the term has
reference to time: in this sense the word is used to indicate that
one thing is older or more ancient than another, for the
expressions older and more ancient imply greater length of
time.
Secondly, one thing is said to be prior to another when the
sequence of their being cannot be reversed. In this sense one is
prior to two. For if two exists, it follows directly that one
must exist, but if one exists, it does not follow necessarily that
two exists: thus the sequence subsisting cannot be reversed. It
is agreed, then, that when the sequence of two things cannot be
reversed, then that one on which the other depends is called
prior to that other.
In the third place, the term prior is used with reference to any
order, as in the case of science and of oratory. For in sciences
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13
The term simultaneous is primarily and most appropriately
applied to those things the genesis of the one of which is
simultaneous with that of the other; for in such cases neither is
prior or posterior to the other. Such things are said to be
simultaneous in point of time. Those things, again, are
simultaneous in point of nature, the being of each of which
involves that of the other, while at the same time neither is the
cause of the others being. This is the case with regard to the
double and the half, for these are reciprocally dependent, since,
if there is a double, there is also a half, and if there is a half,
there is also a double, while at the same time neither is the
cause of the being of the other.
Again, those species which are distinguished one from another
and opposed one to another within the same genus are said to
be simultaneous in nature. I mean those species which are
distinguished each from each by one and the same method of
division. Thus the winged species is simultaneous with the
terrestrial and the water species. These are distinguished
within the same genus, and are opposed each to each, for the
genus animal has the winged, the terrestrial, and the water
species, and no one of these is prior or posterior to another; on
the contrary, all such things appear to be simultaneous in
nature. Each of these also, the terrestrial, the winged, and the
water species, can be divided again into subspecies. Those
species, then, also will be simultaneous point of nature, which,
belonging to the same genus, are distinguished each from each
by one and the same method of differentiation.
But genera are prior to species, for the sequence of their being
cannot be reversed. If there is the species water-animal, there
will be the genus animal, but granted the being of the genus
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14
There are six sorts of movement: generation, destruction,
increase, diminution, alteration, and change of place.
It is evident in all but one case that all these sorts of movement
are distinct each from each. Generation is distinct from
destruction, increase and change of place from diminution, and
so on. But in the case of alteration it may be argued that the
process necessarily implies one or other of the other five sorts
of motion. This is not true, for we may say that all affections, or
nearly all, produce in us an alteration which is distinct from all
other sorts of motion, for that which is affected need not suffer
either increase or diminution or any of the other sorts of
motion. Thus alteration is a distinct sort of motion; for, if it were
not, the thing altered would not only be altered, but would
forthwith necessarily suffer increase or diminution or some one
of the other sorts of motion in addition; which as a matter of
fact is not the case. Similarly that which was undergoing the
process of increase or was subject to some other sort of motion
would, if alteration were not a distinct form of motion,
necessarily be subject to alteration also. But there are some
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15
The term to have is used in various senses. In the first place it
is used with reference to habit or disposition or any other
quality, for we are said to have a piece of knowledge or a virtue.
Then, again, it has reference to quantity, as, for instance, in the
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Aristotle - On Interpretation
[Translated by E. M. Edghill]
1
First we must define the terms noun and verb, then the terms
denial and affirmation, then proposition and sentence.
Spoken words are the symbols of mental experience and
written words are the symbols of spoken words. Just as all men
have not the same writing, so all men have not the same
speech sounds, but the mental experiences, which these
directly symbolize, are the same for all, as also are those things
of which our experiences are the images. This matter has,
however, been discussed in my treatise about the soul, for it
belongs to an investigation distinct from that which lies before
us.
As there are in the mind thoughts which do not involve truth or
falsity, and also those which must be either true or false, so it is
in speech. For truth and falsity imply combination and
separation. Nouns and verbs, provided nothing is added, are
like thoughts without combination or separation; man and
white, as isolated terms, are not yet either true or false. In
proof of this, consider the word goat-stag. It has significance,
but there is no truth or falsity about it, unless is or is not is
added, either in the present or in some other tense.
47
2
By a noun we mean a sound significant by convention, which
has no reference to time, and of which no part is significant
apart from the rest. In the noun Fairsteed, the part steed has
no significance in and by itself, as in the phrase fair steed. Yet
there is a difference between simple and composite nouns; for
in the former the part is in no way significant, in the latter it
contributes to the meaning of the whole, although it has not an
independent meaning. Thus in the word pirate-boat the word
boat has no meaning except as part of the whole word.
The limitation by convention was introduced because nothing
is by nature a noun or name it is only so when it becomes a
symbol; inarticulate sounds, such as those which brutes
produce, are significant, yet none of these constitutes a noun.
The expression not-man is not a noun. There is indeed no
recognized term by which we may denote such an expression,
for it is not a sentence or a denial. Let it then be called an
indefinite noun.
The expressions of Philo, to Philo, and so on, constitute not
nouns, but cases of a noun. The definition of these cases of a
noun is in other respects the same as that of the noun proper,
but, when coupled with is, was, or will be, they do not, as
they are, form a proposition either true or false, and this the
noun proper always does, under these conditions. Take the
words of Philo is or of or of Philo is not; these words do not,
as they stand, form either a true or a false proposition.
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3
A verb is that which, in addition to its proper meaning, carries
with it the notion of time. No part of it has any independent
meaning, and it is a sign of something said of something else.
I will explain what I mean by saying that it carries with it the
notion of time. Health is a noun, but is healthy is a verb; for
besides its proper meaning it indicates the present existence of
the state in question.
Moreover, a verb is always a sign of something said of
something else, i.e. of something either predicable of or present
in some other thing.
Such expressions as is not-healthy, is not, ill, I do not
describe as verbs; for though they carry the additional note of
time, and always form a predicate, there is no specified name
for this variety; but let them be called indefinite verbs, since
they apply equally well to that which exists and to that which
does not.
Similarly he was healthy, he will be healthy, are not verbs,
but tenses of a verb; the difference lies in the fact that the verb
indicates present time, while the tenses of the verb indicate
those times which lie outside the present.
Verbs in and by themselves are substantival and have
significance, for he who uses such expressions arrests the
hearers mind, and fixes his attention; but they do not, as they
stand, express any judgement, either positive or negative. For
neither are to be and not to be the participle being
significant of any fact, unless something is added; for they do
not themselves indicate anything, but imply a copulation, of
which we cannot form a conception apart from the things
coupled.
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4
A sentence is a significant portion of speech, some parts of
which have an independent meaning, that is to say, as an
utterance, though not as the expression of any positive
judgement. Let me explain. The word human has meaning,
but does not constitute a proposition, either positive or
negative. It is only when other words are added that the whole
will form an affirmation or denial. But if we separate one
syllable of the word human from the other, it has no meaning;
similarly in the word mouse, the part ouse has no meaning in
itself, but is merely a sound. In composite words, indeed, the
parts contribute to the meaning of the whole; yet, as has been
pointed out, they have not an independent meaning.
Every sentence has meaning, not as being the natural means by
which a physical faculty is realized, but, as we have said, by
convention. Yet every sentence is not a proposition; only such
are propositions as have in them either truth or falsity. Thus a
prayer is a sentence, but is neither true nor false.
Let us therefore dismiss all other types of sentence but the
proposition, for this last concerns our present inquiry, whereas
the investigation of the others belongs rather to the study of
rhetoric or of poetry.
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5
The first class of simple propositions is the simple affirmation,
the next, the simple denial; all others are only one by
conjunction.
Every proposition must contain a verb or the tense of a verb.
The phrase which defines the species man, if no verb in
present, past, or future time be added, is not a proposition. It
may be asked how the expression a footed animal with two
feet can be called single; for it is not the circumstance that the
words follow in unbroken succession that effects the unity. This
inquiry, however, finds its place in an investigation foreign to
that before us.
We call those propositions single which indicate a single fact, or
the conjunction of the parts of which results in unity: those
propositions, on the other hand, are separate and many in
number, which indicate many facts, or whose parts have no
conjunction.
Let us, moreover, consent to call a noun or a verb an expression
only, and not a proposition, since it is not possible for a man to
speak in this way when he is expressing something, in such a
way as to make a statement, whether his utterance is an
answer to a question or an act of his own initiation.
To return: of propositions one kind is simple, i.e. that which
asserts or denies something of something, the other composite,
i.e. that which is compounded of simple propositions. A simple
proposition is a statement, with meaning, as to the presence of
something in a subject or its absence, in the present, past, or
future, according to the divisions of time.
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6
An affirmation is a positive assertion of something about
something, a denial a negative assertion.
Now it is possible both to affirm and to deny the presence of
something which is present or of something which is not, and
since these same affirmations and denials are possible with
reference to those times which lie outside the present, it would
be possible to contradict any affirmation or denial. Thus it is
plain that every affirmation has an opposite denial, and
similarly every denial an opposite affirmation.
We will call such a pair of propositions a pair of contradictories.
Those positive and negative propositions are said to be
contradictory which have the same subject and predicate. The
identity of subject and of predicate must not be equivocal.
Indeed there are definitive qualifications besides this, which we
make to meet the casuistries of sophists.
7
Some things are universal, others individual. By the term
universal I mean that which is of such a nature as to be
predicated of many subjects, by individual that which is not
thus predicated. Thus man is a universal, Callias an
individual.
Our propositions necessarily sometimes concern a universal
subject, sometimes an individual.
If, then, a man states a positive and a negative proposition of
universal character with regard to a universal, these two
propositions are contrary. By the expression a proposition of
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8
An affirmation or denial is single, if it indicates some one fact
about some one subject; it matters not whether the subject is
universal and whether the statement has a universal character,
or whether this is not so. Such single propositions are: every
man is white, not every man is white;man is white,man is
not white; no man is white, some men are white; provided
the word white has one meaning. If, on the other hand, one
word has two meanings which do not combine to form one, the
affirmation is not single. For instance, if a man should establish
the symbol garment as significant both of a horse and of a
man, the proposition garment is white would not be a single
affirmation, nor its opposite a single denial. For it is equivalent
to the proposition horse and man are white, which, again, is
equivalent to the two propositions horse is white, man is
white. If, then, these two propositions have more than a single
significance, and do not form a single proposition, it is plain
that the first proposition either has more than one significance
or else has none; for a particular man is not a horse.
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9
In the case of that which is or which has taken place,
propositions, whether positive or negative, must be true or
false. Again, in the case of a pair of contradictories, either when
the subject is universal and the propositions are of a universal
character, or when it is individual, as has been said, one of the
two must be true and the other false; whereas when the subject
is universal, but the propositions are not of a universal
character, there is no such necessity. We have discussed this
type also in a previous chapter.
When the subject, however, is individual, and that which is
predicated of it relates to the future, the case is altered. For if all
propositions whether positive or negative are either true or
false, then any given predicate must either belong to the subject
or not, so that if one man affirms that an event of a given
character will take place and another denies it, it is plain that
the statement of the one will correspond with reality and that
of the other will not. For the predicate cannot both belong and
not belong to the subject at one and the same time with regard
to the future.
Thus, if it is true to say that a thing is white, it must necessarily
be white; if the reverse proposition is true, it will of necessity
not be white. Again, if it is white, the proposition stating that it
is white was true; if it is not white, the proposition to the
opposite effect was true. And if it is not white, the man who
states that it is making a false statement; and if the man who
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10
An affirmation is the statement of a fact with regard to a
subject, and this subject is either a noun or that which has no
name; the subject and predicate in an affirmation must each
denote a single thing. I have already explained what is meant
by a noun and by that which has no name; for I stated that the
expression not-man was not a noun, in the proper sense of the
word, but an indefinite noun, denoting as it does in a certain
sense a single thing. Similarly the expression does not enjoy
health is not a verb proper, but an indefinite verb. Every
affirmation, then, and every denial, will consist of a noun and a
verb, either definite or indefinite.
There can be no affirmation or denial without a verb; for the
expressions is, will be, was, is coming to be, and the like
are verbs according to our definition, since besides their specific
meaning they convey the notion of time. Thus the primary
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A. Affirmation
B. Denial
Man is just
D. Denial
C. Affirmation
Man is not-just
Here 'is' and 'is not' are added either to 'just' or to 'not-just'.
61
A. Affirmation
B. Denial
D. Denial
C. Affirmation
Every man
not-just
is
A. Not-man is just
B. Not-man is not
just
D. Not-man is not
not-just
C. Not-man is notjust
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11
There is no unity about an affirmation or denial which, either
positively or negatively, predicates one thing of many subjects,
or many things of the same subject, unless that which is
indicated by the many is really some one thing. do not apply
this word one to those things which, though they have a single
recognized name, yet do not combine to form a unity. Thus,
man may be an animal, and biped, and domesticated, but these
three predicates combine to form a unity. On the other hand,
the predicates white, man, and walking do not thus
combine. Neither, therefore, if these three form the subject of
an affirmation, nor if they form its predicate, is there any unity
about that affirmation. In both cases the unity is linguistic, but
not real.
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12
As these distinctions have been made, we must consider the
mutual relation of those affirmations and denials which assert
or deny possibility or contingency, impossibility or necessity:
for the subject is not without difficulty.
We admit that of composite expressions those are contradictory
each to each which have the verb to be its positive and
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13
Logical sequences follow in due course when we have arranged
the propositions thus. From the proposition it may be it
follows that it is contingent, and the relation is reciprocal. It
follows also that it is not impossible and not necessary.
From the proposition it may not be or it is contingent that it
should not be it follows that it is not necessary that it should
not be and that it is not impossible that it should not be. From
the proposition it cannot be or it is not contingent it follows
that it is necessary that it should not be and that it is
impossible that it should be. From the proposition it cannot not
be or it is not contingent that it should not be it follows that it
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A.
B.
It may be.
It cannot be.
It is contingent.
It is not contingent.
C.
D.
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Now both of these are false of that which necessarily is. At the
same time, it is thought that if a thing may be cut it may also
not be cut, if a thing may be it may also not be, and thus it
would follow that a thing which must necessarily be may
possibly not be; which is false. It is evident, then, that it is not
always the case that that which may be or may walk possesses
also a potentiality in the other direction. There are exceptions.
In the first place we must except those things which possess a
potentiality not in accordance with a rational principle, as fire
possesses the potentiality of giving out heat, that is, an
irrational capacity. Those potentialities which involve a rational
principle are potentialities of more than one result, that is, of
contrary results; those that are irrational are not always thus
constituted. As I have said, fire cannot both heat and not heat,
neither has anything that is always actual any twofold
potentiality. Yet some even of those potentialities which are
irrational admit of opposite results. However, thus much has
been said to emphasize the truth that it is not every potentiality
which admits of opposite results, even where the word is used
always in the same sense.
But in some cases the word is used equivocally. For the term
possible is ambiguous, being used in the one case with
reference to facts, to that which is actualized, as when a man is
said to find walking possible because he is actually walking,
and generally when a capacity is predicated because it is
actually realized; in the other case, with reference to a state in
which realization is conditionally practicable, as when a man is
said to find walking possible because under certain conditions
he would walk. This last sort of potentiality belongs only to that
which can be in motion, the former can exist also in the case of
that which has not this power. Both of that which is walking
and is actual, and of that which has the capacity though not
necessarily realized, it is true to say that it is not impossible
that it should walk (or, in the other case, that it should be), but
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14
The question arises whether an affirmation finds its contrary in
a denial or in another affirmation; whether the proposition
every man is just finds its contrary in the proposition no man
is just, or in the proposition every man is unjust. Take the
propositions Callias is just, Callias is not just, Callias is
unjust; we have to discover which of these form contraries.
Now if the spoken word corresponds with the judgement of the
mind, and if, in thought, that judgement is the contrary of
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some other attribute does not subsist which does subsist, for
both these classes of judgement are of unlimited content.
Those judgements must rather be termed contrary to the true
judgements, in which error is present. Now these judgements
are those which are concerned with the starting points of
generation, and generation is the passing from one extreme to
its opposite; therefore error is a like transition.
Now that which is good is both good and not bad. The first
quality is part of its essence, the second accidental; for it is by
accident that it is not bad. But if that true judgement is most
really true, which concerns the subjects intrinsic nature, then
that false judgement likewise is most really false, which
concerns its intrinsic nature. Now the judgement that that is
good is not good is a false judgement concerning its intrinsic
nature, the judgement that it is bad is one concerning that
which is accidental. Thus the judgement which denies the true
judgement is more really false than that which positively
asserts the presence of the contrary quality. But it is the man
who forms that judgement which is contrary to the true who is
most thoroughly deceived, for contraries are among the things
which differ most widely within the same class. If then of the
two judgements one is contrary to the true judgement, but that
which is contradictory is the more truly contrary, then the
latter, it seems, is the real contrary. The judgement that that
which is good is bad is composite. For presumably the man who
forms that judgement must at the same time understand that
that which is good is not good.
Further, the contradictory is either always the contrary or
never; therefore, if it must necessarily be so in all other cases,
our conclusion in the case just dealt with would seem to be
correct. Now where terms have no contrary, that judgement is
false, which forms the negative of the true; for instance, he who
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Book I
1
We must first state the subject of our inquiry and the faculty to
which it belongs: its subject is demonstration and the faculty
that carries it out demonstrative science. We must next define a
premiss, a term, and a syllogism, and the nature of a perfect
and of an imperfect syllogism; and after that, the inclusion or
noninclusion of one term in another as in a whole, and what we
mean by predicating one term of all, or none, of another.
A premiss then is a sentence affirming or denying one thing of
another. This is either universal or particular or indefinite. By
universal I mean the statement that something belongs to all or
none of something else; by particular that it belongs to some or
not to some or not to all; by indefinite that it does or does not
belong, without any mark to show whether it is universal or
particular, e.g. contraries are subjects of the same science, or
pleasure is not good. The demonstrative premiss differs from
the dialectical, because the demonstrative premiss is the
assertion of one of two contradictory statements (the
demonstrator does not ask for his premiss, but lays it down),
whereas the dialectical premiss depends on the adversarys
choice between two contradictories. But this will make no
difference to the production of a syllogism in either case; for
both the demonstrator and the dialectician argue syllogistically
after stating that something does or does not belong to
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2
Every premiss states that something either is or must be or may
be the attribute of something else; of premisses of these three
kinds some are affirmative, others negative, in respect of each
of the three modes of attribution; again some affirmative and
negative premisses are universal, others particular, others
indefinite. It is necessary then that in universal attribution the
terms of the negative premiss should be convertible, e.g. if no
pleasure is good, then no good will be pleasure; the terms of the
affirmative must be convertible, not however, universally, but in
part, e.g. if every pleasure,is good, some good must be pleasure;
the particular affirmative must convert in part (for if some
pleasure is good, then some good will be pleasure); but the
particular negative need not convert, for if some animal is not
man, it does not follow that some man is not animal.
First then take a universal negative with the terms A and B. If no
B is A, neither can any A be B. For if some A (say C) were B, it
would not be true that no B is A; for C is a B. But if every B is A
then some A is B. For if no A were B, then no B could be A. But
we assumed that every B is A. Similarly too, if the premiss is
particular. For if some B is A, then some of the As must be B. For
if none were, then no B would be A. But if some B is not A, there
is no necessity that some of the As should not be B; e.g. let B
stand for animal and A for man. Not every animal is a man; but
every man is an animal.
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3
The same manner of conversion will hold good also in respect
of necessary premisses. The universal negative converts
universally; each of the affirmatives converts into a particular. If
it is necessary that no B is A, it is necessary also that no A is B.
For if it is possible that some A is B, it would be possible also
that some B is A. If all or some B is A of necessity, it is necessary
also that some A is B: for if there were no necessity, neither
would some of the Bs be A necessarily. But the particular
negative does not convert, for the same reason which we have
already stated.
In respect of possible premisses, since possibility is used in
several senses (for we say that what is necessary and what is
not necessary and what is potential is possible), affirmative
statements will all convert in a manner similar to those
described. For if it is possible that all or some B is A, it will be
possible that some A is B. For if that were not possible, then no
B could possibly be A. This has been already proved. But in
negative statements the case is different. Whatever is said to be
possible, either because B necessarily is A, or because B is not
necessarily A, admits of conversion like other negative
statements, e.g. if one should say, it is possible that man is not
horse, or that no garment is white. For in the former case the
one term necessarily does not belong to the other; in the latter
there is no necessity that it should: and the premiss converts
like other negative statements. For if it is possible for no man to
be a horse, it is also admissible for no horse to be a man; and if
it is admissible for no garment to be white, it is also admissible
for nothing white to be a garment. For if any white thing must
be a garment, then some garment will necessarily be white. This
has been already proved. The particular negative also must be
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4
After these distinctions we now state by what means, when,
and how every syllogism is produced; subsequently we must
speak of demonstration. Syllogism should be discussed before
demonstration because syllogism is the general: the
demonstration is a sort of syllogism, but not every syllogism is a
demonstration.
Whenever three terms are so related to one another that the
last is contained in the middle as in a whole, and the middle is
either contained in, or excluded from, the first as in or from a
whole, the extremes must be related by a perfect syllogism. I
call that term middle which is itself contained in another and
contains another in itself: in position also this comes in the
middle. By extremes I mean both that term which is itself
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minor which comes under the middle. Let all B be A and some C
be B. Then if predicated of all means what was said above, it is
necessary that some C is A. And if no B is A but some C is B, it is
necessary that some C is not A. The meaning of predicated of
none has also been defined. So there will be a perfect syllogism.
This holds good also if the premiss BC should be indefinite,
provided that it is affirmative: for we shall have the same
syllogism whether the premiss is indefinite or particular.
But if the universality is posited with respect to the minor term
either affirmatively or negatively, a syllogism will not be
possible, whether the major premiss is positive or negative,
indefinite or particular: e.g. if some B is or is not A, and all C is
B. As an example of a positive relation between the extremes
take the terms good, state, wisdom: of a negative relation, good,
state, ignorance. Again if no C is B, but some B is or is not A or
not every B is A, there cannot be a syllogism. Take the terms
white, horse, swan: white, horse, raven. The same terms may be
taken also if the premiss BA is indefinite.
Nor when the major premiss is universal, whether affirmative
or negative, and the minor premiss is negative and particular,
can there be a syllogism, whether the minor premiss be
indefinite or particular: e.g. if all B is A and some C is not B, or if
not all C is B. For the major term may be predicable both of all
and of none of the minor, to some of which the middle term
cannot be attributed. Suppose the terms are animal, man,
white: next take some of the white things of which man is not
predicated swan and snow: animal is predicated of all of the
one, but of none of the other. Consequently there cannot be a
syllogism. Again let no B be A, but let some C not be B. Take the
terms inanimate, man, white: then take some white things of
which man is not predicated swan and snow: the term
inanimate is predicated of all of the one, of none of the other.
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5
Whenever the same thing belongs to all of one subject, and to
none of another, or to all of each subject or to none of either, I
call such a figure the second; by middle term in it I mean that
which is predicated of both subjects, by extremes the terms of
which this is said, by major extreme that which lies near the
middle, by minor that which is further away from the middle.
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90
been said that if the terms are related to one another in the way
stated, a syllogism results of necessity; and if there is a
syllogism, the terms must be so related. But it is evident also
that all the syllogisms in this figure are imperfect: for all are
made perfect by certain supplementary statements, which
either are contained in the terms of necessity or are assumed as
hypotheses, i.e. when we prove per impossibile. And it is evident
that an affirmative conclusion is not attained by means of this
figure, but all are negative, whether universal or particular.
6
But if one term belongs to all, and another to none, of a third, or
if both belong to all, or to none, of it, I call such a figure the
third; by middle term in it I mean that of which both the
predicates are predicated, by extremes I mean the predicates, by
the major extreme that which is further from the middle, by the
minor that which is nearer to it. The middle term stands outside
the extremes, and is last in position. A syllogism cannot be
perfect in this figure either, but it may be valid whether the
terms are related universally or not to the middle term.
If they are universal, whenever both P and R belong to S, it
follows that P will necessarily belong to some R. For, since the
affirmative statement is convertible, S will belong to some R:
consequently since P belongs to all S, and S to some R, P must
belong to some R: for a syllogism in the first figure is produced.
It is possible to demonstrate this also per impossibile and by
exposition. For if both P and R belong to all S, should one of the
Ss, e.g. N, be taken, both P and R will belong to this, and thus P
will belong to some R.
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94
7
It is evident also that in all the figures, whenever a proper
syllogism does not result, if both the terms are affirmative or
negative nothing necessary follows at all, but if one is
affirmative, the other negative, and if the negative is stated
universally, a syllogism always results relating the minor to the
major term, e.g. if A belongs to all or some B, and B belongs to
no C: for if the premisses are converted it is necessary that C
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8
Since there is a difference according as something belongs,
necessarily belongs, or may belong to something else (for many
things belong indeed, but not necessarily, others neither
necessarily nor indeed at all, but it is possible for them to
belong), it is clear that there will be different syllogisms to prove
each of these relations, and syllogisms with differently related
terms, one syllogism concluding from what is necessary,
another from what is, a third from what is possible.
There is hardly any difference between syllogisms from
necessary premisses and syllogisms from premisses which
merely assert. When the terms are put in the same way, then,
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9
It happens sometimes also that when one premiss is necessary
the conclusion is necessary, not however when either premiss is
necessary, but only when the major is, e.g. if A is taken as
necessarily belonging or not belonging to B, but B is taken as
simply belonging to C: for if the premisses are taken in this way,
A will necessarily belong or not belong to C. For since
necessarily belongs, or does not belong, to every B, and since C
is one of the Bs, it is clear that for C also the positive or the
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10
In the second figure, if the negative premiss is necessary, then
the conclusion will be necessary, but if the affirmative, not
necessary. First let the negative be necessary; let A be possible
of no B, and simply belong to C. Since then the negative
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11
In the last figure when the terms are related universally to the
middle, and both premisses are affirmative, if one of the two is
necessary, then the conclusion will be necessary. But if one is
negative, the other affirmative, whenever the negative is
necessary the conclusion also will be necessary, but whenever
the affirmative is necessary the conclusion will not be
necessary. First let both the premisses be affirmative, and let A
and B belong to all C, and let AC be necessary. Since then B
belongs to all C, C also will belong to some B, because the
universal is convertible into the particular: consequently if A
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12
It is clear then that a simple conclusion is not reached unless
both premisses are simple assertions, but a necessary
conclusion is possible although one only of the premisses is
necessary. But in both cases, whether the syllogisms are
affirmative or negative, it is necessary that one premiss should
be similar to the conclusion. I mean by similar, if the
conclusion is a simple assertion, the premiss must be simple; if
the conclusion is necessary, the premiss must be necessary.
Consequently this also is clear, that the conclusion will be
neither necessary nor simple unless a necessary or simple
premiss is assumed.
13
Perhaps enough has been said about the proof of necessity, how
it comes about and how it differs from the proof of a simple
statement. We proceed to discuss that which is possible, when
and how and by what means it can be proved. I use the terms
to be possible and the possible of that which is not necessary
but, being assumed, results in nothing impossible. We say
indeed ambiguously of the necessary that it is possible. But that
my definition of the possible is correct is clear from the phrases
by which we deny or on the contrary affirm possibility. For the
expressions it is not possible to belong, it is impossible to
belong, and it is necessary not to belong are either identical or
follow from one another; consequently their opposites also, it is
possible to belong, it is not impossible to belong, and it is not
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14
Whenever A may possibly belong to all B, and B to all C, there
will be a perfect syllogism to prove that A may possibly belong
to all C. This is clear from the definition: for it was in this way
that we explained to be possible for one term to belong to all of
another. Similarly if it is possible for A to belong no B, and for B
to belong to all C, then it is possible for A to belong to no C. For
the statement that it is possible for A not to belong to that of
which B may be true means (as we saw) that none of those
things which can possibly fall under the term B is left out of
account. But whenever A may belong to all B, and B may belong
to no C, then indeed no syllogism results from the premisses
assumed, but if the premiss BC is converted after the manner of
problematic propositions, the same syllogism results as before.
For since it is possible that B should belong to no C, it is possible
also that it should belong to all C. This has been stated above.
Consequently if B is possible for all C, and A is possible for all B,
the same syllogism again results. Similarly if in both the
premisses the negative is joined with it is possible: e.g. if A
may belong to none of the Bs, and B to none of the Cs. No
syllogism results from the assumed premisses, but if they are
converted we shall have the same syllogism as before. It is clear
then that if the minor premiss is negative, or if both premisses
are negative, either no syllogism results, or if one it is not
perfect. For the necessity results from the conversion.
But if one of the premisses is universal, the other particular,
when the major premiss is universal there will be a perfect
syllogism. For if A is possible for all B, and B for some C, then A
is possible for some C. This is clear from the definition of being
possible. Again if A may belong to no B, and B may belong to
some of the Cs, it is necessary that A may possibly not belong to
some of the Cs. The proof is the same as above. But if the
particular premiss is negative, and the universal is affirmative,
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the major still being universal and the minor particular, e.g. A is
possible for all B, B may possibly not belong to some C, then a
clear syllogism does not result from the assumed premisses, but
if the particular premiss is converted and it is laid down that B
possibly may belong to some C, we shall have the same
conclusion as before, as in the cases given at the beginning.
But if the major premiss is the minor universal, whether both
are affirmative, or negative, or different in quality, or if both are
indefinite or particular, in no way will a syllogism be possible.
For nothing prevents B from reaching beyond A, so that as
predicates cover unequal areas. Let C be that by which B
extends beyond A. To C it is not possible that A should belong
either to all or to none or to some or not to some, since
premisses in the mode of possibility are convertible and it is
possible for B to belong to more things than A can. Further, this
is obvious if we take terms; for if the premisses are as assumed,
the major term is both possible for none of the minor and must
belong to all of it. Take as terms common to all the cases under
consideration animal white man, where the major
belongs necessarily to the minor; animal white garment,
where it is not possible that the major should belong to the
minor. It is clear then that if the terms are related in this
manner, no syllogism results. For every syllogism proves that
something belongs either simply or necessarily or possibly. It is
clear that there is no proof of the first or of the second. For the
affirmative is destroyed by the negative, and the negative by the
affirmative. There remains the proof of possibility. But this is
impossible. For it has been proved that if the terms are related
in this manner it is both necessary that the major should
belong to all the minor and not possible that it should belong to
any. Consequently there cannot be a syllogism to prove the
possibility; for the necessary (as we stated) is not possible.
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15
If one premiss is a simple proposition, the other a problematic,
whenever the major premiss indicates possibility all the
syllogisms will be perfect and establish possibility in the sense
defined; but whenever the minor premiss indicates possibility
all the syllogisms will be imperfect, and those which are
negative will establish not possibility according to the
definition, but that the major does not necessarily belong to
any, or to all, of the minor. For if this is so, we say it is possible
that it should belong to none or not to all. Let A be possible for
all B, and let B belong to all C. Since C falls under B, and A is
possible for all B, clearly it is possible for all C also. So a perfect
syllogism results. Likewise if the premiss AB is negative, and the
premiss BC is affirmative, the former stating possible, the latter
simple attribution, a perfect syllogism results proving that A
possibly belongs to no C.
It is clear that perfect syllogisms result if the minor premiss
states simple belonging: but that syllogisms will result if the
modality of the premisses is reversed, must be proved per
impossibile. At the same time it will be evident that they are
imperfect: for the proof proceeds not from the premisses
assumed. First we must state that if Bs being follows
necessarily from As being, Bs possibility will follow necessarily
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111
113
16
Whenever one premiss is necessary, the other problematic,
there will be a syllogism when the terms are related as before;
and a perfect syllogism when the minor premiss is necessary. If
the premisses are affirmative the conclusion will be
problematic, not assertoric, whether the premisses are universal
or not: but if one is affirmative, the other negative, when the
affirmative is necessary the conclusion will be problematic, not
negative assertoric; but when the negative is necessary the
conclusion will be problematic negative, and assertoric negative,
whether the premisses are universal or not. Possibility in the
conclusion must be understood in the same manner as before.
There cannot be an inference to the necessary negative
proposition: for not necessarily to belong is different from
necessarily not to belong.
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Clearly then from what has been said a syllogism results or not
from similar relations of the terms whether we are dealing with
simple existence or necessity, with this exception, that if the
negative premiss is assertoric the conclusion is problematic, but
if the negative premiss is necessary the conclusion is both
problematic and negative assertoric. [It is clear also that all the
syllogisms are imperfect and are perfected by means of the
figures above mentioned.]
17
In the second figure whenever both premisses are problematic,
no syllogism is possible, whether the premisses are affirmative
or negative, universal or particular. But when one premiss is
assertoric, the other problematic, if the affirmative is assertoric
no syllogism is possible, but if the universal negative is
assertoric a conclusion can always be drawn. Similarly when
one premiss is necessary, the other problematic. Here also we
must understand the term possible in the conclusion, in the
same sense as before.
First we must point out that the negative problematic
proposition is not convertible, e.g. if A may belong to no B, it
does not follow that B may belong to no A. For suppose it to
follow and assume that B may belong to no A. Since then
problematic affirmations are convertible with negations,
whether they are contraries or contradictories, and since B may
belong to no A, it is clear that B may belong to all A. But this is
false: for if all this can be that, it does not follow that all that
can be this: consequently the negative proposition is not
convertible. Further, these propositions are not incompatible, A
may belong to no B, B necessarily does not belong to some of
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18
But if one premiss is assertoric, the other problematic, if the
affirmative is assertoric and the negative problematic no
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19
If one of the premisses is necessary, the other problematic, then
if the negative is necessary a syllogistic conclusion can be
drawn, not merely a negative problematic but also a negative
assertoric conclusion; but if the affirmative premiss is
necessary, no conclusion is possible. Suppose that A necessarily
belongs to no B, but may belong to all C. If the negative premiss
is converted B will belong to no A: but A ex hypothesi is capable
of belonging to all C: so once more a conclusion is drawn by the
first figure that B may belong to no C. But at the same time it is
clear that B will not belong to any C. For assume that it does:
then if A cannot belong to any B, and B belongs to some of the
Cs, A cannot belong to some of the Cs: but ex hypothesi it may
belong to all. A similar proof can be given if the minor premiss
is negative. Again let the affirmative proposition be necessary,
and the other problematic; i.e. suppose that A may belong to no
B, but necessarily belongs to all C. When the terms are arranged
in this way, no syllogism is possible. For (1) it sometimes turns
out that B necessarily does not belong to C. Let A be white, B
man, C swan. White then necessarily belongs to swan, but may
belong to no man; and man necessarily belongs to no swan;
Clearly then we cannot draw a problematic conclusion; for that
which is necessary is admittedly distinct from that which is
possible. (2) Nor again can we draw a necessary conclusion: for
that presupposes that both premisses are necessary, or at any
rate the negative premiss. (3) Further it is possible also, when
the terms are so arranged, that B should belong to C: for
nothing prevents C falling under B, A being possible for all B,
and necessarily belonging to C; e.g. if C stands for awake, B for
animal, A for motion. For motion necessarily belongs to what
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20
In the last figure a syllogism is possible whether both or only
one of the premisses is problematic. When the premisses are
problematic the conclusion will be problematic; and also when
one premiss is problematic, the other assertoric. But when the
other premiss is necessary, if it is affirmative the conclusion will
be neither necessary or assertoric; but if it is negative the
syllogism will result in a negative assertoric proposition, as
above. In these also we must understand the expression
possible in the conclusion in the same way as before.
First let the premisses be problematic and suppose that both A
and B may possibly belong to every C. Since then the affirmative
proposition is convertible into a particular, and B may possibly
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21
If one premiss is pure, the other problematic, the conclusion
will be problematic, not pure; and a syllogism will be possible
under the same arrangement of the terms as before. First let the
premisses be affirmative: suppose that A belongs to all C, and B
may possibly belong to all C. If the proposition BC is converted,
we shall have the first figure, and the conclusion that A may
possibly belong to some of the Bs. For when one of the
premisses in the first figure is problematic, the conclusion also
(as we saw) is problematic. Similarly if the proposition BC is
pure, AC problematic; or if AC is negative, BC affirmative, no
matter which of the two is pure; in both cases the conclusion
will be problematic: for the first figure is obtained once more,
and it has been proved that if one premiss is problematic in that
figure the conclusion also will be problematic. But if the minor
premiss BC is negative, or if both premisses are negative, no
syllogistic conclusion can be drawn from the premisses as they
stand, but if they are converted a syllogism is obtained as
before.
If one of the premisses is universal, the other particular, then
when both are affirmative, or when the universal is negative,
the particular affirmative, we shall have the same sort of
syllogisms: for all are completed by means of the first figure. So
it is clear that we shall have not a pure but a problematic
syllogistic conclusion. But if the affirmative premiss is
universal, the negative particular, the proof will proceed by a
reductio ad impossibile. Suppose that B belongs to all C, and A
may possibly not belong to some C: it follows that may possibly
not belong to some B. For if A necessarily belongs to all B, and B
(as has been assumed) belongs to all C, A will necessarily belong
to all C: for this has been proved before. But it was assumed at
the outset that A may possibly not belong to some C.
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22
If one of the premisses is necessary, the other problematic,
when the premisses are affirmative a problematic affirmative
conclusion can always be drawn; when one proposition is
affirmative, the other negative, if the affirmative is necessary a
problematic negative can be inferred; but if the negative
proposition is necessary both a problematic and a pure negative
conclusion are possible. But a necessary negative conclusion
will not be possible, any more than in the other figures. Suppose
first that the premisses are affirmative, i.e. that A necessarily
belongs to all C, and B may possibly belong to all C. Since then A
must belong to all C, and C may belong to some B, it follows that
A may (not does) belong to some B: for so it resulted in the first
figure. A similar proof may be given if the proposition BC is
necessary, and AC is problematic. Again suppose one
proposition is affirmative, the other negative, the affirmative
being necessary: i.e. suppose A may possibly belong to no C, but
B necessarily belongs to all C. We shall have the first figure once
more: and since the negative premiss is problematic it is
clear that the conclusion will be problematic: for when the
premisses stand thus in the first figure, the conclusion (as we
found) is problematic. But if the negative premiss is necessary,
the conclusion will be not only that A may possibly not belong
to some B but also that it does not belong to some B. For
suppose that A necessarily does not belong to C, but B may
belong to all C. If the affirmative proposition BC is converted, we
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shall have the first figure, and the negative premiss is necessary.
But when the premisses stood thus, it resulted that A might
possibly not belong to some C, and that it did not belong to
some C; consequently here it follows that A does not belong to
some B. But when the minor premiss is negative, if it is
problematic we shall have a syllogism by altering the premiss
into its complementary affirmative, as before; but if it is
necessary no syllogism can be formed. For A sometimes
necessarily belongs to all B, and sometimes cannot possibly
belong to any B. To illustrate the former take the terms sleepsleeping horse-man; to illustrate the latter take the terms sleepwaking horse-man.
Similar results will obtain if one of the terms is related
universally to the middle, the other in part. If both premisses
are affirmative, the conclusion will be problematic, not pure;
and also when one premiss is negative, the other affirmative,
the latter being necessary. But when the negative premiss is
necessary, the conclusion also will be a pure negative
proposition; for the same kind of proof can be given whether
the terms are universal or not. For the syllogisms must be made
perfect by means of the first figure, so that a result which
follows in the first figure follows also in the third. But when the
minor premiss is negative and universal, if it is problematic a
syllogism can be formed by means of conversion; but if it is
necessary a syllogism is not possible. The proof will follow the
same course as where the premisses are universal; and the
same terms may be used.
It is clear then in this figure also when and how a syllogism can
be formed, and when the conclusion is problematic, and when
it is pure. It is evident also that all syllogisms in this figure are
imperfect, and that they are made perfect by means of the first
figure.
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23
It is clear from what has been said that the syllogisms in these
figures are made perfect by means of universal syllogisms in
the first figure and are reduced to them. That every syllogism
without qualification can be so treated, will be clear presently,
when it has been proved that every syllogism is formed through
one or other of these figures.
It is necessary that every demonstration and every syllogism
should prove either that something belongs or that it does not,
and this either universally or in part, and further either
ostensively or hypothetically. One sort of hypothetical proof is
the reductio ad impossibile. Let us speak first of ostensive
syllogisms: for after these have been pointed out the truth of
our contention will be clear with regard to those which are
proved per impossibile, and in general hypothetically.
If then one wants to prove syllogistically A of B, either as an
attribute of it or as not an attribute of it, one must assert
something of something else. If now A should be asserted of B,
the proposition originally in question will have been assumed.
But if A should be asserted of C, but C should not be asserted of
anything, nor anything of it, nor anything else of A, no syllogism
will be possible. For nothing necessarily follows from the
assertion of some one thing concerning some other single thing.
Thus we must take another premiss as well. If then A be
asserted of something else, or something else of A, or
something different of C, nothing prevents a syllogism being
formed, but it will not be in relation to B through the premisses
taken. Nor when C belongs to something else, and that to
something else and so on, no connexion however being made
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24
Further in every syllogism one of the premisses must be
affirmative, and universality must be present: unless one of the
premisses is universal either a syllogism will not be possible, or
it will not refer to the subject proposed, or the original position
will be begged. Suppose we have to prove that pleasure in music
is good. If one should claim as a premiss that pleasure is good
without adding all, no syllogism will be possible; if one should
claim that some pleasure is good, then if it is different from
pleasure in music, it is not relevant to the subject proposed; if it
is this very pleasure, one is assuming that which was proposed
at the outset to be proved. This is more obvious in geometrical
proofs, e.g. that the angles at the base of an isosceles triangle
are equal. Suppose the lines A and B have been drawn to the
centre. If then one should assume that the angle AC is equal to
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25
It is clear too that every demonstration will proceed through
three terms and no more, unless the same conclusion is
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(2) But if from the propositions A and B there follows not E but
some other conclusion, and if from C and D either A or B follows
or something else, then there are several syllogisms, and they
do not establish the conclusion proposed: for we assumed that
the syllogism proved E. And if no conclusion follows from C and
D, it turns out that these propositions have been assumed to no
purpose, and the syllogism does not prove the original
proposition.
So it is clear that every demonstration and every syllogism will
proceed through three terms only.
This being evident, it is clear that a syllogistic conclusion
follows from two premisses and not from more than two. For
the three terms make two premisses, unless a new premiss is
assumed, as was said at the beginning, to perfect the
syllogisms. It is clear therefore that in whatever syllogistic
argument the premisses through which the main conclusion
follows (for some of the preceding conclusions must be
premisses) are not even in number, this argument either has
not been drawn syllogistically or it has assumed more than was
necessary to establish its thesis.
If then syllogisms are taken with respect to their main
premisses, every syllogism will consist of an even number of
premisses and an odd number of terms (for the terms exceed
the premisses by one), and the conclusions will be half the
number of the premisses. But whenever a conclusion is reached
by means of prosyllogisms or by means of several continuous
middle terms, e.g. the proposition AB by means of the middle
terms C and D, the number of the terms will similarly exceed
that of the premisses by one (for the extra term must either be
added outside or inserted: but in either case it follows that the
relations of predication are one fewer than the terms related),
and the premisses will be equal in number to the relations of
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26
Since we understand the subjects with which syllogisms are
concerned, what sort of conclusion is established in each figure,
and in how many moods this is done, it is evident to us both
what sort of problem is difficult and what sort is easy to prove.
For that which is concluded in many figures and through many
moods is easier; that which is concluded in few figures and
through few moods is more difficult to attempt. The universal
affirmative is proved by means of the first figure only and by
this in only one mood; the universal negative is proved both
through the first figure and through the second, through the
first in one mood, through the second in two. The particular
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135
27
We must now state how we may ourselves always have a supply
of syllogisms in reference to the problem proposed and by what
road we may reach the principles relative to the problem: for
perhaps we ought not only to investigate the construction of
syllogisms, but also to have the power of making them.
Of all the things which exist some are such that they cannot be
predicated of anything else truly and universally, e.g. Cleon and
Callias, i.e. the individual and sensible, but other things may be
predicated of them (for each of these is both man and animal);
and some things are themselves predicated of others, but
nothing prior is predicated of them; and some are predicated of
others, and yet others of them, e.g. man of Callias and animal of
man. It is clear then that some things are naturally not stated of
anything: for as a rule each sensible thing is such that it cannot
be predicated of anything, save incidentally: for we sometimes
say that that white object is Socrates, or that that which
approaches is Callias. We shall explain in another place that
there is an upward limit also to the process of predicating: for
the present we must assume this. Of these ultimate predicates
it is not possible to demonstrate another predicate, save as a
matter of opinion, but these may be predicated of other things.
Neither can individuals be predicated of other things, though
other things can be predicated of them. Whatever lies between
these limits can be spoken of in both ways: they may be stated
of others, and others stated of them. And as a rule arguments
and inquiries are concerned with these things. We must select
the premisses suitable to each problem in this manner: first we
must lay down the subject and the definitions and the
properties of the thing; next we must lay down those attributes
which follow the thing, and again those which the thing follows,
and those which cannot belong to it. But those to which it
cannot belong need not be selected, because the negative
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137
28
If men wish to establish something about some whole, they
must look to the subjects of that which is being established (the
subjects of which it happens to be asserted), and the attributes
which follow that of which it is to be predicated. For if any of
these subjects is the same as any of these attributes, the
attribute originally in question must belong to the subject
originally in question. But if the purpose is to establish not a
universal but a particular proposition, they must look for the
terms of which the terms in question are predicable: for if any
of these are identical, the attribute in question must belong to
some of the subject in question. Whenever the one term has to
belong to none of the other, one must look to the consequents
of the subject, and to those attributes which cannot possibly be
present in the predicate in question: or conversely to the
attributes which cannot possibly be present in the subject, and
to the consequents of the predicate. If any members of these
groups are identical, one of the terms in question cannot
possibly belong to any of the other. For sometimes a syllogism
138
look for those which are primary and most universal, e.g. in
reference to E we must look to KF rather than to F alone, and in
reference to A we must look to KC rather than to C alone. For if
A belongs to KF, it belongs both to F and to E: but if it does not
follow KF, it may yet follow F. Similarly we must consider the
antecedents of A itself: for if a term follows the primary
antecedents, it will follow those also which are subordinate, but
if it does not follow the former, it may yet follow the latter.
It is clear too that the inquiry proceeds through the three terms
and the two premisses, and that all the syllogisms proceed
through the aforesaid figures. For it is proved that A belongs to
all E, whenever an identical term is found among the Cs and Fs.
This will be the middle term; A and E will be the extremes. So
the first figure is formed. And A will belong to some E, whenever
C and G are apprehended to be the same. This is the last figure:
for G becomes the middle term. And A will belong to no E, when
D and F are identical. Thus we have both the first figure and the
middle figure; the first, because A belongs to no F, since the
negative statement is convertible, and F belongs to all E: the
middle figure because D belongs to no A, and to all E. And A will
not belong to some E, whenever D and G are identical. This is
the last figure: for A will belong to no G, and E will belong to all
G. Clearly then all syllogisms proceed through the aforesaid
figures, and we must not select consequents of all the terms,
because no syllogism is produced from them. For (as we saw) it
is not possible at all to establish a proposition from
consequents, and it is not possible to refute by means of a
consequent of both the terms in question: for the middle term
must belong to the one, and not belong to the other.
It is clear too that other methods of inquiry by selection of
middle terms are useless to produce a syllogism, e.g. if the
consequents of the terms in question are identical, or if the
antecedents of A are identical with those attributes which
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141
manner are looking gratuitously for some other way than the
necessary way because they have failed to observe the identity
of the Bs with the Hs.
29
Syllogisms which lead to impossible conclusions are similar to
ostensive syllogisms; they also are formed by means of the
consequents and antecedents of the terms in question. In both
cases the same inquiry is involved. For what is proved
ostensively may also be concluded syllogistically per
impossibile by means of the same terms; and what is proved
per impossibile may also be proved ostensively, e.g. that A
belongs to none of the Es. For suppose A to belong to some E:
then since B belongs to all A and A to some of the Es, B will
belong to some of the Es: but it was assumed that it belongs to
none. Again we may prove that A belongs to some E: for if A
belonged to none of the Es, and E belongs to all G, A will belong
to none of the Gs: but it was assumed to belong to all. Similarly
with the other propositions requiring proof. The proof per
impossibile will always and in all cases be from the
consequents and antecedents of the terms in question.
Whatever the problem the same inquiry is necessary whether
one wishes to use an ostensive syllogism or a reduction to
impossibility. For both the demonstrations start from the same
terms, e.g. suppose it has been proved that A belongs to no E,
because it turns out that otherwise B belongs to some of the Es
and this is impossible if now it is assumed that B belongs to
no E and to all A, it is clear that A will belong to no E. Again if it
has been proved by an ostensive syllogism that A belongs to no
E, assume that A belongs to some E and it will be proved per
impossibile to belong to no E. Similarly with the rest. In all cases
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143
30
The method is the same in all cases, in philosophy, in any art or
study. We must look for the attributes and the subjects of both
our terms, and we must supply ourselves with as many of these
as possible, and consider them by means of the three terms,
refuting statements in one way, confirming them in another, in
the pursuit of truth starting from premisses in which the
arrangement of the terms is in accordance with truth, while if
we look for dialectical syllogisms we must start from probable
premisses. The principles of syllogisms have been stated in
general terms, both how they are characterized and how we
must hunt for them, so as not to look to everything that is said
about the terms of the problem or to the same points whether
we are confirming or refuting, or again whether we are
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31
It is easy to see that division into classes is a small part of the
method we have described: for division is, so to speak, a weak
syllogism; for what it ought to prove, it begs, and it always
establishes something more general than the attribute in
question. First, this very point had escaped all those who used
the method of division; and they attempted to persuade men
that it was possible to make a demonstration of substance and
essence. Consequently they did not understand what it is
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146
32
Our next business is to state how we can reduce syllogisms to
the aforementioned figures: for this part of the inquiry still
remains. If we should investigate the production of the
syllogisms and had the power of discovering them, and further
if we could resolve the syllogisms produced into the
aforementioned figures, our original problem would be brought
to a conclusion. It will happen at the same time that what has
been already said will be confirmed and its truth made clearer
by what we are about to say. For everything that is true must in
every respect agree with itself First then we must attempt to
select the two premisses of the syllogism (for it is easier to
divide into large parts than into small, and the composite parts
147
are larger than the elements out of which they are made); next
we must inquire which are universal and which particular, and
if both premisses have not been stated, we must ourselves
assume the one which is missing. For sometimes men put
forward the universal premiss, but do not posit the premiss
which is contained in it, either in writing or in discussion: or
men put forward the premisses of the principal syllogism, but
omit those through which they are inferred, and invite the
concession of others to no purpose. We must inquire then
whether anything unnecessary has been assumed, or anything
necessary has been omitted, and we must posit the one and
take away the other, until we have reached the two premisses:
for unless we have these, we cannot reduce arguments put
forward in the way described. In some arguments it is easy to
see what is wanting, but some escape us, and appear to be
syllogisms, because something necessary results from what has
been laid down, e.g. if the assumptions were made that
substance is not annihilated by the annihilation of what is not
substance, and that if the elements out of which a thing is
made are annihilated, then that which is made out of them is
destroyed: these propositions being laid down, it is necessary
that any part of substance is substance; this has not however
been drawn by syllogism from the propositions assumed, but
premisses are wanting. Again if it is necessary that animal
should exist, if man does, and that substance should exist, if
animal does, it is necessary that substance should exist if man
does: but as yet the conclusion has not been drawn
syllogistically: for the premisses are not in the shape we
required. We are deceived in such cases because something
necessary results from what is assumed, since the syllogism
also is necessary. But that which is necessary is wider than the
syllogism: for every syllogism is necessary, but not everything
which is necessary is a syllogism. Consequently, though
something results when certain propositions are assumed, we
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must not try to reduce it directly, but must first state the two
premisses, then divide them into their terms. We must take that
term as middle which is stated in both the remisses: for it is
necessary that the middle should be found in both premisses in
all the figures.
If then the middle term is a predicate and a subject of
predication, or if it is a predicate, and something else is denied
of it, we shall have the first figure: if it both is a predicate and is
denied of something, the middle figure: if other things are
predicated of it, or one is denied, the other predicated, the last
figure. For it was thus that we found the middle term placed in
each figure. It is placed similarly too if the premisses are not
universal: for the middle term is determined in the same way.
Clearly then, if the same term is not stated more than once in
the course of an argument, a syllogism cannot be made: for a
middle term has not been taken. Since we know what sort of
thesis is established in each figure, and in which the universal,
in what sort the particular is described, clearly we must not
look for all the figures, but for that which is appropriate to the
thesis in hand. If the thesis is established in more figures than
one, we shall recognize the figure by the position of the middle
term.
33
Men are frequently deceived about syllogisms because the
inference is necessary, as has been said above; sometimes they
are deceived by the similarity in the positing of the terms; and
this ought not to escape our notice. E.g. if A is stated of B, and B
of C: it would seem that a syllogism is possible since the terms
stand thus: but nothing necessary results, nor does a syllogism.
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34
Men will frequently fall into fallacies through not setting out
the terms of the premiss well, e.g. suppose A to be health, B
disease, C man. It is true to say that A cannot belong to any B
(for health belongs to no disease) and again that B belongs to
every C (for every man is capable of disease). It would seem to
follow that health cannot belong to any man. The reason for
this is that the terms are not set out well in the statement, since
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35
We must not always seek to set out the terms a single word: for
we shall often have complexes of words to which a single name
is not given. Hence it is difficult to reduce syllogisms with such
terms. Sometimes too fallacies will result from such a search,
e.g. the belief that syllogism can establish that which has no
mean. Let A stand for two right angles, B for triangle, C for
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36
That the first term belongs to the middle, and the middle to the
extreme, must not be understood in the sense that they can
always be predicated of one another or that the first term will
be predicated of the middle in the same way as the middle is
predicated of the last term. The same holds if the premisses are
negative. But we must suppose the verb to belong to have as
many meanings as the senses in which the verb to be is used,
and in which the assertion that a thing is may be said to be
true. Take for example the statement that there is a single
science of contraries. Let A stand for there being a single
science, and B for things which are contrary to one another.
Then A belongs to B, not in the sense that contraries are the fact
of there being a single science of them, but in the sense that it
is true to say of the contraries that there is a single science of
them.
It happens sometimes that the first term is stated of the middle,
but the middle is not stated of the third term, e.g. if wisdom is
knowledge, and wisdom is of the good, the conclusion is that
there is knowledge of the good. The good then is not knowledge,
though wisdom is knowledge. Sometimes the middle term is
152
stated of the third, but the first is not stated of the middle, e.g. if
there is a science of everything that has a quality, or is a
contrary, and the good both is a contrary and has a quality, the
conclusion is that there is a science of the good, but the good is
not science, nor is that which has a quality or is a contrary,
though the good is both of these. Sometimes neither the first
term is stated of the middle, nor the middle of the third, while
the first is sometimes stated of the third, and sometimes not:
e.g. if there is a genus of that of which there is a science, and if
there is a science of the good, we conclude that there is a genus
of the good. But nothing is predicated of anything. And if that of
which there is a science is a genus, and if there is a science of
the good, we conclude that the good is a genus. The first term
then is predicated of the extreme, but in the premisses one
thing is not stated of another.
The same holds good where the relation is negative. For that
does not belong to this does not always mean that this is not
that, but sometimes that this is not of that or for that, e.g.
there is not a motion of a motion or a becoming of a becoming,
but there is a becoming of pleasure: so pleasure is not a
becoming. Or again it may be said that there is a sign of
laughter, but there is not a sign of a sign, consequently laughter
is not a sign. This holds in the other cases too, in which the
thesis is refuted because the genus is asserted in a particular
way, in relation to the terms of the thesis. Again take the
inference opportunity is not the right time: for opportunity
belongs to God, but the right time does not, since nothing is
useful to God. We must take as terms opportunity-right timeGod: but the premiss must be understood according to the case
of the noun. For we state this universally without qualification,
that the terms ought always to be stated in the nominative, e.g.
man, good, contraries, not in oblique cases, e.g. of man, of a
good, of contraries, but the premisses ought to be understood
with reference to the cases of each term either the dative, e.g.
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37
The expressions this belongs to that and this holds true of
that must be understood in as many ways as there are different
categories, and these categories must be taken either with or
without qualification, and further as simple or compound: the
same holds good of the corresponding negative expressions. We
must consider these points and define them better.
38
A term which is repeated in the premisses ought to be joined to
the first extreme, not to the middle. I mean for example that if a
syllogism should be made proving that there is knowledge of
justice, that it is good, the expression that it is good (or qua
good) should be joined to the first term. Let A stand for
knowledge that it is good, B for good, C for justice. It is true to
predicate A of B. For of the good there is knowledge that it is
good. Also it is true to predicate B of C. For justice is identical
with a good. In this way an analysis of the argument can be
made. But if the expression that it is good were added to B, the
conclusion will not follow: for A will be true of B, but B will not
be true of C. For to predicate of justice the term good that it is
good is false and not intelligible. Similarly if it should be proved
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that the healthy is an object of knowledge qua good, of goatstag an object of knowledge qua not existing, or man perishable
qua an object of sense: in every case in which an addition is
made to the predicate, the addition must be joined to the
extreme.
The position of the terms is not the same when something is
established without qualification and when it is qualified by
some attribute or condition, e.g. when the good is proved to be
an object of knowledge and when it is proved to be an object of
knowledge that it is good. If it has been proved to be an object of
knowledge without qualification, we must put as middle term
that which is, but if we add the qualification that it is good,
the middle term must be that which is something. Let A stand
for knowledge that it is something, B stand for something,
and C stand for good. It is true to predicate A of B: for ex
hypothesi there is a science of that which is something, that it
is something. B too is true of C: for that which C represents is
something. Consequently A is true of C: there will then be
knowledge of the good, that it is good: for ex hypothesi the term
something indicates the things special nature. But if being
were taken as middle and being simply were joined to the
extreme, not being something, we should not have had a
syllogism proving that there is knowledge of the good, that it is
good, but that it is; e.g. let A stand for knowledge that it is, B for
being, C for good. Clearly then in syllogisms which are thus
limited we must take the terms in the way stated.
39
We ought also to exchange terms which have the same value,
word for word, and phrase for phrase, and word and phrase, and
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40
Since the expressions pleasure is good and pleasure is the
good are not identical, we must not set out the terms in the
same way; but if the syllogism is to prove that pleasure is the
good, the term must be the good, but if the object is to prove
that pleasure is good, the term will be good. Similarly in all
other cases.
41
It is not the same, either in fact or in speech, that A belongs to
all of that to which B belongs, and that A belongs to all of that to
all of which B belongs: for nothing prevents B from belonging to
C, though not to all C: e.g. let B stand for beautiful, and C for
white. If beauty belongs to something white, it is true to say
that beauty belongs to that which is white; but not perhaps to
everything that is white. If then A belongs to B, but not to
everything of which B is predicated, then whether B belongs to
all C or merely belongs to C, it is not necessary that A should
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42
We should not forget that in the same syllogism not all
conclusions are reached through one figure, but one through
one figure, another through another. Clearly then we must
analyse arguments in accordance with this. Since not every
problem is proved in every figure, but certain problems in each
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43
In reference to those arguments aiming at a definition which
have been directed to prove some part of the definition, we
must take as a term the point to which the argument has been
directed, not the whole definition: for so we shall be less likely
to be disturbed by the length of the term: e.g. if a man proves
that water is a drinkable liquid, we must take as terms
drinkable and water.
44
Further we must not try to reduce hypothetical syllogisms; for
with the given premisses it is not possible to reduce them. For
they have not been proved by syllogism, but assented to by
agreement. For instance if a man should suppose that unless
there is one faculty of contraries, there cannot be one science,
and should then argue that not every faculty is of contraries, e.g.
of what is healthy and what is sickly: for the same thing will
then be at the same time healthy and sickly. He has shown that
there is not one faculty of all contraries, but he has not proved
that there is not a science. And yet one must agree. But the
agreement does not come from a syllogism, but from an
hypothesis. This argument cannot be reduced: but the proof
that there is not a single faculty can. The latter argument
perhaps was a syllogism: but the former was an hypothesis.
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45
Whatever problems are proved in more than one figure, if they
have been established in one figure by syllogism, can be
reduced to another figure, e.g. a negative syllogism in the first
figure can be reduced to the second, and a syllogism in the
middle figure to the first, not all however but some only. The
point will be clear in the sequel. If A belongs to no B, and B to all
C, then A belongs to no C. Thus the first figure; but if the
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46
In establishing or refuting, it makes some difference whether
we suppose the expressions not to be this and to be not-this
are identical or different in meaning, e.g. not to be white and
to be not-white. For they do not mean the same thing, nor is
to be not-white the negation of to be white, but not to be
white. The reason for this is as follows. The relation of he can
walk to he can not-walk is similar to the relation of it is
white to it is not-white; so is that of he knows what is good
to he knows what is not-good. For there is no difference
between the expressions he knows what is good and he is
knowing what is good, or he can walk and he is able to walk:
therefore there is no difference between their contraries he
cannot walk-he is not able to walk. If then he is not able to
walk means the same as he is able not to walk, capacity to
walk and incapacity to walk will belong at the same time to the
same person (for the same man can both walk and not-walk,
and is possessed of knowledge of what is good and of what is
not-good), but an affirmation and a denial which are opposed to
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one another do not belong at the same time to the same thing.
As then not to know what is good is not the same as to know
what is not good, so to be not-good is not the same as not to
be good. For when two pairs correspond, if the one pair are
different from one another, the other pair also must be
different. Nor is to be not-equal the same as not to be equal:
for there is something underlying the one, viz. that which is
not-equal, and this is the unequal, but there is nothing
underlying the other. Wherefore not everything is either equal
or unequal, but everything is equal or is not equal. Further the
expressions it is a not-white log and it is not a white log do
not imply one anothers truth. For if it is a not-white log, it
must be a log: but that which is not a white log need not be a
log at all. Therefore it is clear that it is not-good is not the
denial of it is good. If then every single statement may truly be
said to be either an affirmation or a negation, if it is not a
negation clearly it must in a sense be an affirmation. But every
affirmation has a corresponding negation. The negation then of
it is not-good is it is not not-good. The relation of these
statements to one another is as follows. Let A stand for to be
good, B for not to be good, let C stand for to be not-good and
be placed under B, and let D stand for not to be not-good and
be placed under A. Then either A or B will belong to everything,
but they will never belong to the same thing; and either C or D
will belong to everything, but they will never belong to the same
thing. And B must belong to everything to which C belongs. For
if it is true to say it is a not-white, it is true also to say it is not
white: for it is impossible that a thing should simultaneously
be white and be not-white, or be a not-white log and be a white
log; consequently if the affirmation does not belong, the denial
must belong. But C does not always belong to B: for what is not
a log at all, cannot be a not-white log either. On the other hand
D belongs to everything to which A belongs. For either C or D
belongs to everything to which A belongs. But since a thing
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164
Book II
1
We have already explained the number of the figures, the
character and number of the premisses, when and how a
syllogism is formed; further what we must look for when a
refuting and establishing propositions, and how we should
investigate a given problem in any branch of inquiry, also by
what means we shall obtain principles appropriate to each
subject. Since some syllogisms are universal, others particular,
all the universal syllogisms give more than one result, and of
particular syllogisms the affirmative yield more than one, the
negative yield only the stated conclusion. For all propositions
are convertible save only the particular negative: and the
conclusion states one definite thing about another definite
thing. Consequently all syllogisms save the particular negative
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167
2
It is possible for the premisses of the syllogism to be true, or to
be false, or to be the one true, the other false. The conclusion is
either true or false necessarily. From true premisses it is not
possible to draw a false conclusion, but a true conclusion may
be drawn from false premisses, true however only in respect to
the fact, not to the reason. The reason cannot be established
from false premisses: why this is so will be explained in the
sequel.
First then that it is not possible to draw a false conclusion from
true premisses, is made clear by this consideration. If it is
necessary that B should be when A is, it is necessary that A
should not be when B is not. If then A is true, B must be true:
otherwise it will turn out that the same thing both is and is not
at the same time. But this is impossible. Let it not, because A is
laid down as a single term, be supposed that it is possible, when
a single fact is given, that something should necessarily result.
For that is not possible. For what results necessarily is the
conclusion, and the means by which this comes about are at the
least three terms, and two relations of subject and predicate or
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man, but does not follow some white, but man belongs to some
white; consequently if man be taken as middle term and it is
assumed that A belongs to no B but B belongs to some C, the
conclusion will be true although the premiss AB is wholly false.
(If the premiss AB is false in part, the conclusion may be true.
For nothing prevents A belonging both to B and to some C, and
B belonging to some C, e.g. animal to something beautiful and
to something great, and beautiful belonging to something great.
If then A is assumed to belong to all B, and B to some C, the a
premiss AB will be partially false, the premiss BC will be true,
and the conclusion true. Similarly if the premiss AB is negative.
For the same terms will serve, and in the same positions, to
prove the point.
(9) Again if the premiss AB is true, and the premiss BC is false,
the conclusion may be true. For nothing prevents A belonging to
the whole of B and to some C, while B belongs to no C, e.g.
animal to every swan and to some black things, though swan
belongs to no black thing. Consequently if it should be assumed
that A belongs to all B, and B to some C, the conclusion will be
true, although the statement BC is false. Similarly if the premiss
AB is negative. For it is possible that A should belong to no B,
and not to some C, while B belongs to no C, e.g. a genus to the
species of another genus and to the accident of its own species:
for animal belongs to no number and not to some white things,
and number belongs to nothing white. If then number is taken
as middle, and it is assumed that A belongs to no B, and B to
some C, then A will not belong to some C, which ex hypothesi is
true. And the premiss AB is true, the premiss BC false.
(10) Also if the premiss AB is partially false, and the premiss BC
is false too, the conclusion may be true. For nothing prevents A
belonging to some B and to some C, though B belongs to no C,
e.g. if B is the contrary of C, and both are accidents of the same
genus: for animal belongs to some white things and to some
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3
In the middle figure it is possible in every way to reach a true
conclusion through false premisses, whether the syllogisms are
universal or particular, viz. when both premisses are wholly
false; when each is partially false; when one is true, the other
wholly false (it does not matter which of the two premisses is
false); if both premisses are partially false; if one is quite true,
the other partially false; if one is wholly false, the other partially
true. For (1) if A belongs to no B and to all C, e.g. animal to no
stone and to every horse, then if the premisses are stated
contrariwise and it is assumed that A belongs to all B and to no
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C, though the premisses are wholly false they will yield a true
conclusion. Similarly if A belongs to all B and to no C: for we
shall have the same syllogism.
(2) Again if one premiss is wholly false, the other wholly true:
for nothing prevents A belonging to all B and to all C, though B
belongs to no C, e.g. a genus to its co-ordinate species. For
animal belongs to every horse and man, and no man is a horse.
If then it is assumed that animal belongs to all of the one, and
none of the other, the one premiss will be wholly false, the
other wholly true, and the conclusion will be true whichever
term the negative statement concerns.
(3) Also if one premiss is partially false, the other wholly true.
For it is possible that A should belong to some B and to all C,
though B belongs to no C, e.g. animal to some white things and
to every raven, though white belongs to no raven. If then it is
assumed that A belongs to no B, but to the whole of C, the
premiss AB is partially false, the premiss AC wholly true, and
the conclusion true. Similarly if the negative statement is
transposed: the proof can be made by means of the same terms.
Also if the affirmative premiss is partially false, the negative
wholly true, a true conclusion is possible. For nothing prevents
A belonging to some B, but not to C as a whole, while B belongs
to no C, e.g. animal belongs to some white things, but to no
pitch, and white belongs to no pitch. Consequently if it is
assumed that A belongs to the whole of B, but to no C, the
premiss AB is partially false, the premiss AC is wholly true, and
the conclusion is true.
(4) And if both the premisses are partially false, the conclusion
may be true. For it is possible that A should belong to some B
and to some C, and B to no C, e.g. animal to some white things
and to some black things, though white belongs to nothing
black. If then it is assumed that A belongs to all B and to no C,
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(6) It is clear too that though both premisses are false they may
yield a true conclusion, since it is possible that A should belong
both to B and to C as wholes, though B does not follow some C.
For if it is assumed that A belongs to no B and to some C, the
premisses are both false, but the conclusion is true. Similarly if
the universal premiss is affirmative and the particular negative.
For it is possible that A should follow no B and all C, though B
does not belong to some C, e.g. animal follows no science but
every man, though science does not follow every man. If then A
is assumed to belong to the whole of B, and not to follow some
C, the premisses are false but the conclusion is true.
4
In the last figure a true conclusion may come through what is
false, alike when both premisses are wholly false, when each is
partly false, when one premiss is wholly true, the other false,
when one premiss is partly false, the other wholly true, and vice
versa, and in every other way in which it is possible to alter the
premisses. For (1) nothing prevents neither A nor B from
belonging to any C, while A belongs to some B, e.g. neither man
nor footed follows anything lifeless, though man belongs to
some footed things. If then it is assumed that A and B belong to
all C, the premisses will be wholly false, but the conclusion true.
Similarly if one premiss is negative, the other affirmative. For it
is possible that B should belong to no C, but A to all C, and that
should not belong to some B, e.g. black belongs to no swan,
animal to every swan, and animal not to everything black.
Consequently if it is assumed that B belongs to all C, and A to
no C, A will not belong to some B: and the conclusion is true,
though the premisses are false.
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(4) Again if one premiss is wholly true, the other partly false, the
conclusion may be true. For it is possible that B should belong to
all C, and A to some C, while A belongs to some B, e.g. biped
belongs to every man, beautiful not to every man, and beautiful
to some bipeds. If then it is assumed that both A and B belong
to the whole of C, the premiss BC is wholly true, the premiss AC
partly false, the conclusion true. Similarly if of the premisses
assumed AC is true and BC partly false, a true conclusion is
possible: this can be proved, if the same terms as before are
transposed. Also the conclusion may be true if one premiss is
negative, the other affirmative. For since it is possible that B
should belong to the whole of C, and A to some C, and, when
they are so, that A should not belong to all B, therefore it is
assumed that B belongs to the whole of C, and A to no C, the
negative premiss is partly false, the other premiss wholly true,
and the conclusion is true. Again since it has been proved that if
A belongs to no C and B to some C, it is possible that A should
not belong to some C, it is clear that if the premiss AC is wholly
true, and the premiss BC partly false, it is possible that the
conclusion should be true. For if it is assumed that A belongs to
no C, and B to all C, the premiss AC is wholly true, and the
premiss BC is partly false.
(5) It is clear also in the case of particular syllogisms that a true
conclusion may come through what is false, in every possible
way. For the same terms must be taken as have been taken
when the premisses are universal, positive terms in positive
syllogisms, negative terms in negative. For it makes no
difference to the setting out of the terms, whether one assumes
that what belongs to none belongs to all or that what belongs to
some belongs to all. The same applies to negative statements.
It is clear then that if the conclusion is false, the premisses of
the argument must be false, either all or some of them; but
when the conclusion is true, it is not necessary that the
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5
Circular and reciprocal proof means proof by means of the
conclusion, i.e. by converting one of the premisses simply and
inferring the premiss which was assumed in the original
syllogism: e.g. suppose it has been necessary to prove that A
belongs to all C, and it has been proved through B; suppose that
A should now be proved to belong to B by assuming that A
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6
In the second figure it is not possible to prove an affirmative
proposition in this way, but a negative proposition may be
proved. An affirmative proposition is not proved because both
premisses of the new syllogism are not affirmative (for the
conclusion is negative) but an affirmative proposition is (as we
saw) proved from premisses which are both affirmative. The
negative is proved as follows. Let A belong to all B, and to no C:
we conclude that B belongs to no C. If then it is assumed that B
belongs to all A, it is necessary that A should belong to no C: for
we get the second figure, with B as middle. But if the premiss AB
was negative, and the other affirmative, we shall have the first
figure. For C belongs to all A and B to no C, consequently B
belongs to no A: neither then does A belong to B. Through the
conclusion, therefore, and one premiss, we get no syllogism, but
if another premiss is assumed in addition, a syllogism will be
possible. But if the syllogism not universal, the universal
premiss cannot be proved, for the same reason as we gave
above, but the particular premiss can be proved whenever the
universal statement is affirmative. Let A belong to all B, and not
to all C: the conclusion is BC. If then it is assumed that B
belongs to all A, but not to all C, A will not belong to some C, B
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7
In the third figure, when both premisses are taken universally, it
is not possible to prove them reciprocally: for that which is
universal is proved through statements which are universal, but
the conclusion in this figure is always particular, so that it is
clear that it is not possible at all to prove through this figure the
universal premiss. But if one premiss is universal, the other
particular, proof of the latter will sometimes be possible,
sometimes not. When both the premisses assumed are
affirmative, and the universal concerns the minor extreme,
proof will be possible, but when it concerns the other extreme,
impossible. Let A belong to all C and B to some C: the conclusion
is the statement AB. If then it is assumed that C belongs to all A,
it has been proved that C belongs to some B, but that B belongs
to some C has not been proved. And yet it is necessary, if C
belongs to some B, that B should belong to some C. But it is not
the same that this should belong to that, and that to this: but
we must assume besides that if this belongs to some of that,
that belongs to some of this. But if this is assumed the
syllogism no longer results from the conclusion and the other
premiss. But if B belongs to all C, and A to some C, it will be
possible to prove the proposition AC, when it is assumed that C
belongs to all B, and A to some B. For if C belongs to all B and A
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8
To convert a syllogism means to alter the conclusion and make
another syllogism to prove that either the extreme cannot
belong to the middle or the middle to the last term. For it is
necessary, if the conclusion has been changed into its opposite
and one of the premisses stands, that the other premiss should
be destroyed. For if it should stand, the conclusion also must
stand. It makes a difference whether the conclusion is
converted into its contradictory or into its contrary. For the
same syllogism does not result whichever form the conversion
takes. This will be made clear by the sequel. By contradictory
opposition I mean the opposition of to all to not to all, and of
to some to to none; by contrary opposition I mean the
opposition of to all to to none, and of to some to not to
some. Suppose that A been proved of C, through B as middle
term. If then it should be assumed that A belongs to no C, but to
all B, B will belong to no C. And if A belongs to no C, and B to all
C, A will belong, not to no B at all, but not to all B. For (as we
saw) the universal is not proved through the last figure. In a
word it is not possible to refute universally by conversion the
premiss which concerns the major extreme: for the refutation
always proceeds through the third since it is necessary to take
both premisses in reference to the minor extreme. Similarly if
the syllogism is negative. Suppose it has been proved that A
belongs to no C through B. Then if it is assumed that A belongs
to all C, and to no B, B will belong to none of the Cs. And if A and
B belong to all C, A will belong to some B: but in the original
premiss it belonged to no B.
If the conclusion is converted into its contradictory, the
syllogisms will be contradictory and not universal. For one
premiss is particular, so that the conclusion also will be
particular. Let the syllogism be affirmative, and let it be
converted as stated. Then if A belongs not to all C, but to all B, B
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9
In the second figure it is not possible to refute the premiss
which concerns the major extreme by establishing something
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10
In the third figure when the conclusion is converted into its
contrary, neither of the premisses can be refuted in any of the
syllogisms, but when the conclusion is converted into its
contradictory, both premisses may be refuted and in all the
moods. Suppose it has been proved that A belongs to some B, C
being taken as middle, and the premisses being universal. If
then it is assumed that A does not belong to some B, but B
belongs to all C, no syllogism is formed about A and C. Nor if A
does not belong to some B, but belongs to all C, will a syllogism
be possible about B and C. A similar proof can be given if the
premisses are not universal. For either both premisses arrived at
by the conversion must be particular, or the universal premiss
must refer to the minor extreme. But we found that no
syllogism is possible thus either in the first or in the middle
figure. But if the conclusion is converted into its contradictory,
both the premisses can be refuted. For if A belongs to no B, and
B to all C, then A belongs to no C: again if A belongs to no B, and
to all C, B belongs to no C. And similarly if one of the premisses
is not universal. For if A belongs to no B, and B to some C, A will
not belong to some C: if A belongs to no B, and to C, B will
belong to no C.
Similarly if the original syllogism is negative. Suppose it has
been proved that A does not belong to some B, BC being
affirmative, AC being negative: for it was thus that, as we saw, a
syllogism could be made. Whenever then the contrary of the
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11
It is clear then what conversion is, how it is effected in each
figure, and what syllogism results. The syllogism per
impossibile is proved when the contradictory of the conclusion
stated and another premiss is assumed; it can be made in all
the figures. For it resembles conversion, differing only in this:
conversion takes place after a syllogism has been formed and
both the premisses have been taken, but a reduction to the
impossible takes place not because the contradictory has been
agreed to already, but because it is clear that it is true. The
terms are alike in both, and the premisses of both are taken in
the same way. For example if A belongs to all B, C being middle,
then if it is supposed that A does not belong to all B or belongs
to no B, but to all C (which was admitted to be true), it follows
that C belongs to no B or not to all B. But this is impossible:
consequently the supposition is false: its contradictory then is
true. Similarly in the other figures: for whatever moods admit of
conversion admit also of the reduction per impossibile.
All the problems can be proved per impossibile in all the figures,
excepting the universal affirmative, which is proved in the
middle and third figures, but not in the first. Suppose that A
belongs not to all B, or to no B, and take besides another
premiss concerning either of the terms, viz. that C belongs to all
A, or that B belongs to all D; thus we get the first figure. If then
it is supposed that A does not belong to all B, no syllogism
results whichever term the assumed premiss concerns; but if it
is supposed that A belongs to no B, when the premiss BD is
assumed as well we shall prove syllogistically what is false, but
not the problem proposed. For if A belongs to no B, and B
belongs to all D, A belongs to no D. Let this be impossible: it is
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12
It is clear then that in the first figure all problems except the
universal affirmative are proved per impossibile. But in the
middle and the last figures this also is proved. Suppose that A
does not belong to all B, and let it have been assumed that A
belongs to all C. If then A belongs not to all B, but to all C, C will
not belong to all B. But this is impossible (for suppose it to be
clear that C belongs to all B): consequently the hypothesis is
false. It is true then that A belongs to all B. But if the contrary is
supposed, we shall have a syllogism and a result which is
impossible: but the problem in hand is not proved. For if A
belongs to no B, and to all C, C will belong to no B. This is
impossible; so that it is false that A belongs to no B. But though
this is false, it does not follow that it is true that A belongs to all
B.
When A belongs to some B, suppose that A belongs to no B, and
let A belong to all C. It is necessary then that C should belong to
no B. Consequently, if this is impossible, A must belong to some
B. But if it is supposed that A does not belong to some B, we
shall have the same results as in the first figure.
Again suppose that A belongs to some B, and let A belong to no
C. It is necessary then that C should not belong to some B. But
originally it belonged to all B, consequently the hypothesis is
false: A then will belong to no B.
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13
Similarly they can all be formed in the last figure. Suppose that
A does not belong to some B, but C belongs to all B: then A does
not belong to some C. If then this is impossible, it is false that A
does not belong to some B; so that it is true that A belongs to all
B. But if it is supposed that A belongs to no B, we shall have a
syllogism and a conclusion which is impossible: but the
problem in hand is not proved: for if the contrary is supposed,
we shall have the same results as before.
But to prove that A belongs to some B, this hypothesis must be
made. If A belongs to no B, and C to some B, A will belong not to
all C. If then this is false, it is true that A belongs to some B.
When A belongs to no B, suppose A belongs to some B, and let it
have been assumed that C belongs to all B. Then it is necessary
that A should belong to some C. But ex hypothesi it belongs to
no C, so that it is false that A belongs to some B. But if it is
supposed that A belongs to all B, the problem is not proved.
But this hypothesis must be made if we are prove that A belongs
not to all B. For if A belongs to all B and C to some B, then A
belongs to some C. But this we assumed not to be so, so it is
false that A belongs to all B. But in that case it is true that A
belongs not to all B. If however it is assumed that A belongs to
some B, we shall have the same result as before.
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14
Demonstration per impossibile differs from ostensive proof in
that it posits what it wishes to refute by reduction to a
statement admitted to be false; whereas ostensive proof starts
from admitted positions. Both, indeed, take two premisses that
are admitted, but the latter takes the premisses from which the
syllogism starts, the former takes one of these, along with the
contradictory of the original conclusion. Also in the ostensive
proof it is not necessary that the conclusion should be known,
nor that one should suppose beforehand that it is true or not: in
the other it is necessary to suppose beforehand that it is not
true. It makes no difference whether the conclusion is
affirmative or negative; the method is the same in both cases.
Everything which is concluded ostensively can be proved per
impossibile, and that which is proved per impossibile can be
proved ostensively, through the same terms. Whenever the
syllogism is formed in the first figure, the truth will be found in
the middle or the last figure, if negative in the middle, if
affirmative in the last. Whenever the syllogism is formed in the
middle figure, the truth will be found in the first, whatever the
problem may be. Whenever the syllogism is formed in the last
figure, the truth will be found in the first and middle figures, if
affirmative in first, if negative in the middle. Suppose that A has
been proved to belong to no B, or not to all B, through the first
figure. Then the hypothesis must have been that A belongs to
some B, and the original premisses that C belongs to all A and to
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15
In what figure it is possible to draw a conclusion from
premisses which are opposed, and in what figure this is not
possible, will be made clear in this way. Verbally four kinds of
opposition are possible, viz. universal affirmative to universal
negative, universal affirmative to particular negative, particular
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16
To beg and assume the original question is a species of failure
to demonstrate the problem proposed; but this happens in
many ways. A man may not reason syllogistically at all, or he
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17
The objection that this is not the reason why the result is false,
which we frequently make in argument, is made primarily in
the case of a reductio ad impossibile, to rebut the proposition
which was being proved by the reduction. For unless a man has
contradicted this proposition he will not say, False cause, but
urge that something false has been assumed in the earlier parts
of the argument; nor will he use the formula in the case of an
ostensive proof; for here what one denies is not assumed as a
premiss. Further when anything is refuted ostensively by the
terms ABC, it cannot be objected that the syllogism does not
depend on the assumption laid down. For we use the expression
false cause, when the syllogism is concluded in spite of the
refutation of this position; but that is not possible in ostensive
proofs: since if an assumption is refuted, a syllogism can no
longer be drawn in reference to it. It is clear then that the
expression false cause can only be used in the case of a
reductio ad impossibile, and when the original hypothesis is so
related to the impossible conclusion, that the conclusion results
indifferently whether the hypothesis is made or not. The most
obvious case of the irrelevance of an assumption to a
conclusion which is false is when a syllogism drawn from
middle terms to an impossible conclusion is independent of the
hypothesis, as we have explained in the Topics. For to put that
which is not the cause as the cause, is just this: e.g. if a man,
wishing to prove that the diagonal of the square is
incommensurate with the side, should try to prove Zenos
theorem that motion is impossible, and so establish a reductio
ad impossibile: for Zenos false theorem has no connexion at all
with the original assumption. Another case is where the
impossible conclusion is connected with the hypothesis, but
does not result from it. This may happen whether one traces the
connexion upwards or downwards, e.g. if it is laid down that A
belongs to B, B to C, and C to D, and it should be false that B
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18
A false argument depends on the first false statement in it.
Every syllogism is made out of two or more premisses. If then
the false conclusion is drawn from two premisses, one or both
of them must be false: for (as we proved) a false syllogism
cannot be drawn from two premisses. But if the premisses are
more than two, e.g. if C is established through A and B, and
these through D, E, F, and G, one of these higher propositions
must be false, and on this the argument depends: for A and B
are inferred by means of D, E, F, and G. Therefore the conclusion
and the error results from one of them.
19
In order to avoid having a syllogism drawn against us we must
take care, whenever an opponent asks us to admit the reason
without the conclusions, not to grant him the same term twice
over in his premisses, since we know that a syllogism cannot be
drawn without a middle term, and that term which is stated
more than once is the middle. How we ought to watch the
middle in reference to each conclusion, is evident from our
knowing what kind of thesis is proved in each figure. This will
not escape us since we know how we are maintaining the
argument.
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20
Since we know when a syllogism can be formed and how its
terms must be related, it is clear when refutation will be
possible and when impossible. A refutation is possible whether
everything is conceded, or the answers alternate (one, I mean,
being affirmative, the other negative). For as has been shown a
syllogism is possible whether the terms are related in
affirmative propositions or one proposition is affirmative, the
other negative: consequently, if what is laid down is contrary to
the conclusion, a refutation must take place: for a refutation is a
syllogism which establishes the contradictory. But if nothing is
conceded, a refutation is impossible: for no syllogism is possible
(as we saw) when all the terms are negative: therefore no
refutation is possible. For if a refutation were possible, a
syllogism must be possible; although if a syllogism is possible it
does not follow that a refutation is possible. Similarly refutation
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21
It sometimes happens that just as we are deceived in the
arrangement of the terms, so error may arise in our thought
about them, e.g. if it is possible that the same predicate should
belong to more than one subject immediately, but although
knowing the one, a man may forget the other and think the
opposite true. Suppose that A belongs to B and to C in virtue of
their nature, and that B and C belong to all D in the same way. If
then a man thinks that A belongs to all B, and B to D, but A to no
C, and C to all D, he will both know and not know the same
thing in respect of the same thing. Again if a man were to make
a mistake about the members of a single series; e.g. suppose A
belongs to B, B to C, and C to D, but some one thinks that A
belongs to all B, but to no C: he will both know that A belongs to
D, and think that it does not. Does he then maintain after this
simply that what he knows, he does not think? For he knows in
a way that A belongs to C through B, since the part is included
in the whole; so that what he knows in a way, this he maintains
he does not think at all: but that is impossible.
In the former case, where the middle term does not belong to
the same series, it is not possible to think both the premisses
with reference to each of the two middle terms: e.g. that A
belongs to all B, but to no C, and both B and C belong to all D.
For it turns out that the first premiss of the one syllogism is
either wholly or partially contrary to the first premiss of the
other. For if he thinks that A belongs to everything to which B
belongs, and he knows that B belongs to D, then he knows that
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209
But he who thinks the essence of good is the essence of bad will
think the same thing to be the essence of good and the essence
of bad. Let A stand for the essence of good and B for the essence
of bad, and again C for the essence of good. Since then he thinks
B and C identical, he will think that C is B, and similarly that B is
A, consequently that C is A. For just as we saw that if B is true of
all of which C is true, and A is true of all of which B is true, A is
true of C, similarly with the word think. Similarly also with the
word is; for we saw that if C is the same as B, and B as A, C is
the same as A. Similarly therefore with opine. Perhaps then
this is necessary if a man will grant the first point. But
presumably that is false, that any one could suppose the
essence of good to be the essence of bad, save incidentally. For it
is possible to think this in many different ways. But we must
consider this matter better.
22
Whenever the extremes are convertible it is necessary that the
middle should be convertible with both. For if A belongs to C
through B, then if A and C are convertible and C belongs
everything to which A belongs, B is convertible with A, and B
belongs to everything to which A belongs, through C as middle,
and C is convertible with B through A as middle. Similarly if the
conclusion is negative, e.g. if B belongs to C, but A does not
belong to B, neither will A belong to C. If then B is convertible
with A, C will be convertible with A. Suppose B does not belong
to A; neither then will C: for ex hypothesi B belonged to all C.
And if C is convertible with B, B is convertible also with A, for C
is said of that of all of which B is said. And if C is convertible in
relation to A and to B, B also is convertible in relation to A. For C
belongs to that to which B belongs: but C does not belong to
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23
It is clear then how the terms are related in conversion, and in
respect of being in a higher degree objects of aversion or of
desire. We must now state that not only dialectical and
demonstrative syllogisms are formed by means of the aforesaid
figures, but also rhetorical syllogisms and in general any form of
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24
We have an example when the major term is proved to belong
to the middle by means of a term which resembles the third. It
ought to be known both that the middle belongs to the third
term, and that the first belongs to that which resembles the
third. For example let A be evil, B making war against
neighbours, C Athenians against Thebans, D Thebans against
Phocians. If then we wish to prove that to fight with the
Thebans is an evil, we must assume that to fight against
neighbours is an evil. Evidence of this is obtained from similar
cases, e.g. that the war against the Phocians was an evil to the
Thebans. Since then to fight against neighbours is an evil, and
to fight against the Thebans is to fight against neighbours, it is
clear that to fight against the Thebans is an evil. Now it is clear
that B belongs to C and to D (for both are cases of making war
upon ones neighbours) and that A belongs to D (for the war
against the Phocians did not turn out well for the Thebans): but
that A belongs to B will be proved through D. Similarly if the
belief in the relation of the middle term to the extreme should
be produced by several similar cases. Clearly then to argue by
example is neither like reasoning from part to whole, nor like
reasoning from whole to part, but rather reasoning from part to
part, when both particulars are subordinate to the same term,
and one of them is known. It differs from induction, because
induction starting from all the particular cases proves (as we
saw) that the major term belongs to the middle, and does not
apply the syllogistic conclusion to the minor term, whereas
argument by example does make this application and does not
draw its proof from all the particular cases.
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25
By reduction we mean an argument in which the first term
clearly belongs to the middle, but the relation of the middle to
the last term is uncertain though equally or more probable than
the conclusion; or again an argument in which the terms
intermediate between the last term and the middle are few. For
in any of these cases it turns out that we approach more nearly
to knowledge. For example let A stand for what can be taught, B
for knowledge, C for justice. Now it is clear that knowledge can
be taught: but it is uncertain whether virtue is knowledge. If
now the statement BC is equally or more probable than AC, we
have a reduction: for we are nearer to knowledge, since we have
taken a new term, being so far without knowledge that A
belongs to C. Or again suppose that the terms intermediate
between B and C are few: for thus too we are nearer knowledge.
For example let D stand for squaring, E for rectilinear figure, F
for circle. If there were only one term intermediate between E
and F (viz. that the circle is made equal to a rectilinear figure by
the help of lunules), we should be near to knowledge. But when
BC is not more probable than AC, and the intermediate terms
are not few, I do not call this reduction: nor again when the
statement BC is immediate: for such a statement is knowledge.
26
An objection is a premiss contrary to a premiss. It differs from a
premiss, because it may be particular, but a premiss either
cannot be particular at all or not in universal syllogisms. An
objection is brought in two ways and through two figures; in
two ways because every objection is either universal or
particular, by two figures because objections are brought in
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216
27
A probability and a sign are not identical, but a probability is a
generally approved proposition: what men know to happen or
not to happen, to be or not to be, for the most part thus and
thus, is a probability, e.g. the envious hate, the beloved show
affection. A sign means a demonstrative proposition necessary
or generally approved: for anything such that when it is another
thing is, or when it has come into being the other has come into
being before or after, is a sign of the others being or having
come into being. Now an enthymeme is a syllogism starting
from probabilities or signs, and a sign may be taken in three
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index which makes us know, and the middle term above all has
this character), or else we must call the arguments derived from
the extremes signs, that derived from the middle term the
index: for that which is proved through the first figure is most
generally accepted and most true.
It is possible to infer character from features, if it is granted that
the body and the soul are changed together by the natural
affections: I say natural, for though perhaps by learning music
a man has made some change in his soul, this is not one of
those affections which are natural to us; rather I refer to
passions and desires when I speak of natural emotions. If then
this were granted and also that for each change there is a
corresponding sign, and we could state the affection and sign
proper to each kind of animal, we shall be able to infer
character from features. For if there is an affection which
belongs properly to an individual kind, e.g. courage to lions, it is
necessary that there should be a sign of it: for ex hypothesi
body and soul are affected together. Suppose this sign is the
possession of large extremities: this may belong to other kinds
also though not universally. For the sign is proper in the sense
stated, because the affection is proper to the whole kind,
though not proper to it alone, according to our usual manner of
speaking. The same thing then will be found in another kind,
and man may be brave, and some other kinds of animal as well.
They will then have the sign: for ex hypothesi there is one sign
corresponding to each affection. If then this is so, and we can
collect signs of this sort in these animals which have only one
affection proper to them but each affection has its sign, since
it is necessary that it should have a single sign we shall then
be able to infer character from features. But if the kind as a
whole has two properties, e.g. if the lion is both brave and
generous, how shall we know which of the signs which are its
proper concomitants is the sign of a particular affection?
Perhaps if both belong to some other kind though not to the
219
whole of it, and if, in those kinds in which each is found though
not in the whole of their members, some members possess one
of the affections and not the other: e.g. if a man is brave but not
generous, but possesses, of the two signs, large extremities, it is
clear that this is the sign of courage in the lion also. To judge
character from features, then, is possible in the first figure if the
middle term is convertible with the first extreme, but is wider
than the third term and not convertible with it: e.g. let A stand
for courage, B for large extremities, and C for lion. B then
belongs to everything to which C belongs, but also to others. But
A belongs to everything to which B belongs, and to nothing
besides, but is convertible with B: otherwise, there would not be
a single sign correlative with each affection.
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Book I
1
All instruction given or received by way of argument proceeds
from pre-existent knowledge. This becomes evident upon a
survey of all the species of such instruction. The mathematical
sciences and all other speculative disciplines are acquired in
this way, and so are the two forms of dialectical reasoning,
syllogistic and inductive; for each of these latter make use of
old knowledge to impart new, the syllogism assuming an
audience that accepts its premisses, induction exhibiting the
universal as implicit in the clearly known particular. Again, the
persuasion exerted by rhetorical arguments is in principle the
same, since they use either example, a kind of induction, or
enthymeme, a form of syllogism.
The pre-existent knowledge required is of two kinds. In some
cases admission of the fact must be assumed, in others
comprehension of the meaning of the term used, and
sometimes both assumptions are essential. Thus, we assume
that every predicate can be either truly affirmed or truly denied
of any subject, and that triangle means so and so; as regards
unit we have to make the double assumption of the meaning
of the word and the existence of the thing. The reason is that
these several objects are not equally obvious to us. Recognition
of a truth may in some cases contain as factors both previous
knowledge and also knowledge acquired simultaneously with
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2
We suppose ourselves to possess unqualified scientific
knowledge of a thing, as opposed to knowing it in the accidental
way in which the sophist knows, when we think that we know
the cause on which the fact depends, as the cause of that fact
and of no other, and, further, that the fact could not be other
than it is. Now that scientific knowing is something of this sort
is evident witness both those who falsely claim it and those
who actually possess it, since the former merely imagine
themselves to be, while the latter are also actually, in the
condition described. Consequently the proper object of
unqualified scientific knowledge is something which cannot be
other than it is.
There may be another manner of knowing as well that will be
discussed later. What I now assert is that at all events we do
know by demonstration. By demonstration I mean a syllogism
productive of scientific knowledge, a syllogism, that is, the grasp
of which is eo ipso such knowledge. Assuming then that my
thesis as to the nature of scientific knowing is correct, the
premisses of demonstrated knowledge must be true, primary,
immediate, better known than and prior to the conclusion,
which is further related to them as effect to cause. Unless these
conditions are satisfied, the basic truths will not be
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224
3
Some hold that, owing to the necessity of knowing the primary
premisses, there is no scientific knowledge. Others think there
is, but that all truths are demonstrable. Neither doctrine is
either true or a necessary deduction from the premisses. The
first school, assuming that there is no way of knowing other
than by demonstration, maintain that an infinite regress is
involved, on the ground that if behind the prior stands no
primary, we could not know the posterior through the prior
(wherein they are right, for one cannot traverse an infinite
series): if on the other hand they say the series terminates
and there are primary premisses, yet these are unknowable
because incapable of demonstration, which according to them
is the only form of knowledge. And since thus one cannot know
the primary premisses, knowledge of the conclusions which
follow from them is not pure scientific knowledge nor properly
knowing at all, but rests on the mere supposition that the
premisses are true. The other party agree with them as regards
knowing, holding that it is only possible by demonstration, but
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227
must be; therefore if A is, C must be. Since then by the circular
proof if A is, B must be, and if B is, A must be, A may be
substituted for C above. Then if B is, A must be=if B is, C must
be, which above gave the conclusion if A is, C must be: but C
and A have been identified. Consequently the upholders of
circular demonstration are in the position of saying that if A is,
A must be a simple way of proving anything. Moreover, even
such circular demonstration is impossible except in the case of
attributes that imply one another, viz. peculiar properties.
Now, it has been shown that the positing of one thing be it one
term or one premiss never involves a necessary consequent:
two premisses constitute the first and smallest foundation for
drawing a conclusion at all and therefore a fortiori for the
demonstrative syllogism of science. If, then, A is implied in B
and C, and B and C are reciprocally implied in one another and
in A, it is possible, as has been shown in my writings on the
syllogism, to prove all the assumptions on which the original
conclusion rested, by circular demonstration in the first figure.
But it has also been shown that in the other figures either no
conclusion is possible, or at least none which proves both the
original premisses. Propositions the terms of which are not
convertible cannot be circularly demonstrated at all, and since
convertible terms occur rarely in actual demonstrations, it is
clearly frivolous and impossible to say that demonstration is
reciprocal and that therefore everything can be demonstrated.
4
Since the object of pure scientific knowledge cannot be other
than it is, the truth obtained by demonstrative knowledge will
be necessary. And since demonstrative knowledge is only
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229
230
231
5
We must not fail to observe that we often fall into error because
our conclusion is not in fact primary and commensurately
universal in the sense in which we think we prove it so. We
make this mistake (1) when the subject is an individual or
individuals above which there is no universal to be found: (2)
when the subjects belong to different species and there is a
higher universal, but it has no name: (3) when the subject which
the demonstrator takes as a whole is really only a part of a
larger whole; for then the demonstration will be true of the
individual instances within the part and will hold in every
instance of it, yet the demonstration will not be true of this
subject primarily and commensurately and universally. When a
demonstration is true of a subject primarily and
commensurately and universally, that is to be taken to mean
that it is true of a given subject primarily and as such. Case (3)
may be thus exemplified. If a proof were given that
perpendiculars to the same line are parallel, it might be
supposed that lines thus perpendicular were the proper subject
of the demonstration because being parallel is true of every
instance of them. But it is not so, for the parallelism depends
not on these angles being equal to one another because each is
a right angle, but simply on their being equal to one another. An
example of (1) would be as follows: if isosceles were the only
triangle, it would be thought to have its angles equal to two
right angles qua isosceles. An instance of (2) would be the law
that proportionals alternate. Alternation used to be
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6
Demonstrative knowledge must rest on necessary basic truths;
for the object of scientific knowledge cannot be other than it is.
Now attributes attaching essentially to their subjects attach
necessarily to them: for essential attributes are either elements
in the essential nature of their subjects, or contain their
subjects as elements in their own essential nature. (The pairs of
opposites which the latter class includes are necessary because
one member or the other necessarily inheres.) It follows from
this that premisses of the demonstrative syllogism must be
connexions essential in the sense explained: for all attributes
must inhere essentially or else be accidental, and accidental
attributes are not necessary to their subjects.
We must either state the case thus, or else premise that the
conclusion of demonstration is necessary and that a
demonstrated conclusion cannot be other than it is, and then
infer that the conclusion must be developed from necessary
premisses. For though you may reason from true premisses
without demonstrating, yet if your premisses are necessary you
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7
It follows that we cannot in demonstrating pass from one genus
to another. We cannot, for instance, prove geometrical truths by
arithmetic. For there are three elements in demonstration: (1)
what is proved, the conclusion an attribute inhering
essentially in a genus; (2) the axioms, i.e. axioms which are
premisses of demonstration; (3) the subject genus whose
attributes, i.e. essential properties, are revealed by the
demonstration. The axioms which are premisses of
demonstration may be identical in two or more sciences: but in
the case of two different genera such as arithmetic and
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8
It is also clear that if the premisses from which the syllogism
proceeds are commensurately universal, the conclusion of such
i.e. in the unqualified sense must also be eternal. Therefore no
attribute can be demonstrated nor known by strictly scientific
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9
It is clear that if the conclusion is to show an attribute inhering
as such, nothing can be demonstrated except from its
appropriate basic truths. Consequently a proof even from true,
indemonstrable, and immediate premisses does not constitute
knowledge. Such proofs are like Brysons method of squaring
the circle; for they operate by taking as their middle a common
character a character, therefore, which the subject may share
with another and consequently they apply equally to subjects
different in kind. They therefore afford knowledge of an
attribute only as inhering accidentally, not as belonging to its
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10
I call the basic truths of every genus those clements in it the
existence of which cannot be proved. As regards both these
primary truths and the attributes dependent on them the
meaning of the name is assumed. The fact of their existence as
regards the primary truths must be assumed; but it has to be
proved of the remainder, the attributes. Thus we assume the
meaning alike of unity, straight, and triangular; but while as
regards unity and magnitude we assume also the fact of their
existence, in the case of the remainder proof is required.
Of the basic truths used in the demonstrative sciences some are
peculiar to each science, and some are common, but common
only in the sense of analogous, being of use only in so far as
they fall within the genus constituting the province of the
science in question.
Peculiar truths are, e.g. the definitions of line and straight;
common truths are such as take equals from equals and equals
remain. Only so much of these common truths is required as
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falls within the genus in question: for a truth of this kind will
have the same force even if not used generally but applied by
the geometer only to magnitudes, or by the arithmetician only
to numbers. Also peculiar to a science are the subjects the
existence as well as the meaning of which it assumes, and the
essential attributes of which it investigates, e.g. in arithmetic
units, in geometry points and lines. Both the existence and the
meaning of the subjects are assumed by these sciences; but of
their essential attributes only the meaning is assumed. For
example arithmetic assumes the meaning of odd and even,
square and cube, geometry that of incommensurable, or of
deflection or verging of lines, whereas the existence of these
attributes is demonstrated by means of the axioms and from
previous conclusions as premisses. Astronomy too proceeds in
the same way. For indeed every demonstrative science has three
elements: (1) that which it posits, the subject genus whose
essential attributes it examines; (2) the so-called axioms, which
are primary premisses of its demonstration; (3) the attributes,
the meaning of which it assumes. Yet some sciences may very
well pass over some of these elements; e.g. we might not
expressly posit the existence of the genus if its existence were
obvious (for instance, the existence of hot and cold is more
evident than that of number); or we might omit to assume
expressly the meaning of the attributes if it were well
understood. In the way the meaning of axioms, such as Take
equals from equals and equals remain, is well known and so
not expressly assumed. Nevertheless in the nature of the case
the essential elements of demonstration are three: the subject,
the attributes, and the basic premisses.
That which expresses necessary self-grounded fact, and which
we must necessarily believe, is distinct both from the
hypotheses of a science and from illegitimate postulate I say
must believe, because all syllogism, and therefore a fortiori
demonstration, is addressed not to the spoken word, but to the
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11
So demonstration does not necessarily imply the being of Forms
nor a One beside a Many, but it does necessarily imply the
possibility of truly predicating one of many; since without this
possibility we cannot save the universal, and if the universal
goes, the middle term goes witb. it, and so demonstration
becomes impossible. We conclude, then, that there must be a
single identical term unequivocally predicable of a number of
individuals.
The law that it is impossible to affirm and deny simultaneously
the same predicate of the same subject is not expressly posited
by any demonstration except when the conclusion also has to
be expressed in that form; in which case the proof lays down as
its major premiss that the major is truly affirmed of the middle
but falsely denied. It makes no difference, however, if we add to
the middle, or again to the minor term, the corresponding
negative. For grant a minor term of which it is true to predicate
man even if it be also true to predicate not-man of it still
grant simply that man is animal and not not-animal, and the
conclusion follows: for it will still be true to say that Callias
even if it be also true to say that not-Callias is animal and not
not-animal. The reason is that the major term is predicable not
only of the middle, but of something other than the middle as
well, being of wider application; so that the conclusion is not
affected even if the middle is extended to cover the original
middle term and also what is not the original middle term.
The law that every predicate can be either truly affirmed or
truly denied of every subject is posited by such demonstration
as uses reductio ad impossibile, and then not always
universally, but so far as it is requisite; within the limits, that is,
of the genus the genus, I mean (as I have already explained), to
which the man of science applies his demonstrations. In virtue
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12
If a syllogistic question is equivalent to a proposition
embodying one of the two sides of a contradiction, and if each
science has its peculiar propositions from which its peculiar
conclusion is developed, then there is such a thing as a
distinctively scientific question, and it is the interrogative form
of the premisses from which the appropriate conclusion of
each science is developed. Hence it is clear that not every
question will be relevant to geometry, nor to medicine, nor to
any other science: only those questions will be geometrical
which form premisses for the proof of the theorems of
geometry or of any other science, such as optics, which uses the
same basic truths as geometry. Of the other sciences the like is
true. Of these questions the geometer is bound to give his
account, using the basic truths of geometry in conjunction with
his previous conclusions; of the basic truths the geometer, as
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such, is not bound to give any account. The like is true of the
other sciences. There is a limit, then, to the questions which we
may put to each man of science; nor is each man of science
bound to answer all inquiries on each several subject, but only
such as fall within the defined field of his own science. If, then,
in controversy with a geometer qua geometer the disputant
confines himself to geometry and proves anything from
geometrical premisses, he is clearly to be applauded; if he goes
outside these he will be at fault, and obviously cannot even
refute the geometer except accidentally. One should therefore
not discuss geometry among those who are not geometers, for
in such a company an unsound argument will pass unnoticed.
This is correspondingly true in the other sciences.
Since there are geometrical questions, does it follow that there
are also distinctively ungeometrical questions? Further, in each
special science geometry for instance what kind of error is it
that may vitiate questions, and yet not exclude them from that
science? Again, is the erroneous conclusion one constructed
from premisses opposite to the true premisses, or is it formal
fallacy though drawn from geometrical premisses? Or, perhaps,
the erroneous conclusion is due to the drawing of premisses
from another science; e.g. in a geometrical controversy a
musical question is distinctively ungeometrical, whereas the
notion that parallels meet is in one sense geometrical, being
ungeometrical in a different fashion: the reason being that
ungeometrical, like unrhythmical, is equivocal, meaning in
the one case not geometry at all, in the other bad geometry? It
is this error, i.e. error based on premisses of this kind of the
science but false that is the contrary of science. In
mathematics the formal fallacy is not so common, because it is
the middle term in which the ambiguity lies, since the major is
predicated of the whole of the middle and the middle of the
whole of the minor (the predicate of course never has the prefix
all); and in mathematics one can, so to speak, see these middle
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distinguishing
disputations.
mathematical
reasoning
from
dialectical
13
Knowledge of the fact differs from knowledge of the reasoned
fact. To begin with, they differ within the same science and in
two ways: (1) when the premisses of the syllogism are not
immediate (for then the proximate cause is not contained in
them a necessary condition of knowledge of the reasoned
fact): (2) when the premisses are immediate, but instead of the
cause the better known of the two reciprocals is taken as the
middle; for of two reciprocally predicable terms the one which
is not the cause may quite easily be the better known and so
become the middle term of the demonstration. Thus (2) (a) you
might prove as follows that the planets are near because they
do not twinkle: let C be the planets, B not twinkling, A
proximity. Then B is predicable of C; for the planets do not
twinkle. But A is also predicable of B, since that which does not
twinkle is near we must take this truth as having been
reached by induction or sense-perception. Therefore A is a
necessary predicate of C; so that we have demonstrated that the
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planets are near. This syllogism, then, proves not the reasoned
fact but only the fact; since they are not near because they do
not twinkle, but, because they are near, do not twinkle. The
major and middle of the proof, however, may be reversed, and
then the demonstration will be of the reasoned fact. Thus: let C
be the planets, B proximity, A not twinkling. Then B is an
attribute of C, and A not twinkling of B. Consequently A is
predicable of C, and the syllogism proves the reasoned fact,
since its middle term is the proximate cause. Another example
is the inference that the moon is spherical from its manner of
waxing. Thus: since that which so waxes is spherical, and since
the moon so waxes, clearly the moon is spherical. Put in this
form, the syllogism turns out to be proof of the fact, but if the
middle and major be reversed it is proof of the reasoned fact;
since the moon is not spherical because it waxes in a certain
manner, but waxes in such a manner because it is spherical.
(Let C be the moon, B spherical, and A waxing.) Again (b), in
cases where the cause and the effect are not reciprocal and the
effect is the better known, the fact is demonstrated but not the
reasoned fact. This also occurs (1) when the middle falls outside
the major and minor, for here too the strict cause is not given,
and so the demonstration is of the fact, not of the reasoned fact.
For example, the question Why does not a wall breathe? might
be answered, Because it is not an animal; but that answer
would not give the strict cause, because if not being an animal
causes the absence of respiration, then being an animal should
be the cause of respiration, according to the rule that if the
negation of causes the non-inherence of y, the affirmation of x
causes the inherence of y; e.g. if the disproportion of the hot
and cold elements is the cause of ill health, their proportion is
the cause of health; and conversely, if the assertion of x causes
the inherence of y, the negation of x must cause ys noninherence. But in the case given this consequence does not
result; for not every animal breathes. A syllogism with this kind
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14
Of all the figures the most scientific is the first. Thus, it is the
vehicle of the demonstrations of all the mathematical sciences,
such as arithmetic, geometry, and optics, and practically all of
all sciences that investigate causes: for the syllogism of the
reasoned fact is either exclusively or generally speaking and in
most cases in this figure a second proof that this figure is the
most scientific; for grasp of a reasoned conclusion is the
primary condition of knowledge. Thirdly, the first is the only
figure which enables us to pursue knowledge of the essence of a
thing. In the second figure no affirmative conclusion is possible,
and knowledge of a things essence must be affirmative; while
in the third figure the conclusion can be affirmative, but cannot
be universal, and essence must have a universal character: e.g.
man is not two-footed animal in any qualified sense, but
universally. Finally, the first figure has no need of the others,
while it is by means of the first that the other two figures are
developed, and have their intervals closepacked until
immediate premisses are reached.
Clearly, therefore, the first figure is the primary condition of
knowledge.
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15
Just as an attribute A may (as we saw) be atomically connected
with a subject B, so its disconnexion may be atomic. I call
atomic connexions or disconnexions which involve no
intermediate term; since in that case the connexion or
disconnexion will not be mediated by something other than the
terms themselves. It follows that if either A or B, or both A and
B, have a genus, their disconnexion cannot be primary. Thus: let
C be the genus of A. Then, if C is not the genus of B for A may
well have a genus which is not the genus of B there will be a
syllogism proving As disconnexion from B thus:
all A is C,
no B is C,
therefore no B is A.
Or if it is B which has a genus D, we have
all B is D,
no D is A,
therefore no B is A, by syllogism;
and the proof will be similar if both A and B have a genus. That
the genus of A need not be the genus of B and vice versa, is
shown by the existence of mutually exclusive coordinate series
of predication. If no term in the series ACD... is predicable of any
term in the series BEF..., and if G a term in the former series
is the genus of A, clearly G will not be the genus of B; since, if it
were, the series would not be mutually exclusive. So also if B
has a genus, it will not be the genus of A. If, on the other hand,
neither A nor B has a genus and A does not inhere in B, this
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16
Ignorance defined not as the negation of knowledge but as a
positive state of mind is error produced by inference.
(1) Let us first consider propositions asserting a predicates
immediate connexion with or disconnexion from a subject.
Here, it is true, positive error may befall one in alternative ways;
for it may arise where one directly believes a connexion or
disconnexion as well as where ones belief is acquired by
inference. The error, however, that consists in a direct belief is
without complication; but the error resulting from inference
which here concerns us takes many forms. Thus, let A be
atomically disconnected from all B: then the conclusion inferred
through a middle term C, that all B is A, will be a case of error
produced by syllogism. Now, two cases are possible. Either (a)
both premisses, or (b) one premiss only, may be false. (a) If
neither A is an attribute of any C nor C of any B, whereas the
contrary was posited in both cases, both premisses will be false.
(C may quite well be so related to A and B that C is neither
subordinate to A nor a universal attribute of B: for B, since A was
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17
In the case of attributes not atomically connected with or
disconnected from their subjects, (a) (i) as long as the false
conclusion is inferred through the appropriate middle, only the
major and not both premisses can be false. By appropriate
middle I mean the middle term through which the
contradictory i.e. the true-conclusion is inferrible. Thus, let A
be attributable to B through a middle term C: then, since to
produce a conclusion the premiss C-B must be taken
affirmatively, it is clear that this premiss must always be true,
for its quality is not changed. But the major A-C is false, for it is
by a change in the quality of A-C that the conclusion becomes
its contradictory i.e. true. Similarly (ii) if the middle is taken
from another series of predication; e.g. suppose D to be not only
contained within A as a part within its whole but also
predicable of all B. Then the premiss D-B must remain
unchanged, but the quality of A-D must be changed; so that D-B
is always true, A-D always false. Such error is practically
identical with that which is inferred through the appropriate
middle. On the other hand, (b) if the conclusion is not inferred
through the appropriate middle (i) when the middle is
subordinate to A but is predicable of no B, both premisses must
be false, because if there is to be a conclusion both must be
posited as asserting the contrary of what is actually the fact,
and so posited both become false: e.g. suppose that actually all
D is A but no B is D; then if these premisses are changed in
quality, a conclusion will follow and both of the new premisses
will be false. When, however, (ii) the middle D is not subordinate
to A, A-D will be true, D-B false A-D true because A was not
subordinate to D, D-B false because if it had been true, the
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18
It is also clear that the loss of any one of the senses entails the
loss of a corresponding portion of knowledge, and that, since we
learn either by induction or by demonstration, this knowledge
cannot be acquired. Thus demonstration develops from
universals, induction from particulars; but since it is possible to
familiarize the pupil with even the so-called mathematical
abstractions only through induction i.e. only because each
subject genus possesses, in virtue of a determinate
mathematical character, certain properties which can be treated
as separate even though they do not exist in isolation it is
consequently impossible to come to grasp universals except
through induction. But induction is impossible for those who
have not sense-perception. For it is sense-perception alone
which is adequate for grasping the particulars: they cannot be
objects of scientific knowledge, because neither can universals
give us knowledge of them without induction, nor can we get it
through induction without sense-perception.
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19
Every syllogism is effected by means of three terms. One kind of
syllogism serves to prove that A inheres in C by showing that A
inheres in B and B in C; the other is negative and one of its
premisses asserts one term of another, while the other denies
one term of another. It is clear, then, that these are the
fundamentals and so-called hypotheses of syllogism. Assume
them as they have been stated, and proof is bound to follow
proof that A inheres in C through B, and again that A inheres in
B through some other middle term, and similarly that B inheres
in C. If our reasoning aims at gaining credence and so is merely
dialectical, it is obvious that we have only to see that our
inference is based on premisses as credible as possible: so that
if a middle term between A and B is credible though not real,
one can reason through it and complete a dialectical syllogism.
If, however, one is aiming at truth, one must be guided by the
real connexions of subjects and attributes. Thus: since there are
attributes which are predicated of a subject essentially or
naturally and not coincidentally not, that is, in the sense in
which we say That white (thing) is a man, which is not the
same mode of predication as when we say The man is white:
the man is white not because he is something else but because
he is man, but the white is man because being white coincides
with humanity within one substratum therefore there are
terms such as are naturally subjects of predicates. Suppose,
then, C such a term not itself attributable to anything else as to
a subject, but the proximate subject of the attribute B i.e. so
that B-C is immediate; suppose further E related immediately to
F, and F to B. The first question is, must this series terminate, or
can it proceed to infinity? The second question is as follows:
Suppose nothing is essentially predicated of A, but A is
predicated primarily of H and of no intermediate prior term, and
suppose H similarly related to G and G to B; then must this
series also terminate, or can it too proceed to infinity? There is
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20
Now, it is clear that if the predications terminate in both the
upward and the downward direction (by upward I mean the
ascent to the more universal, by downward the descent to the
more particular), the middle terms cannot be infinite in number.
For suppose that A is predicated of F, and that the intermediates
call them B B B... are infinite, then clearly you might
descend from and find one term predicated of another ad
infinitum, since you have an infinity of terms between you and
F; and equally, if you ascend from F, there are infinite terms
between you and A. It follows that if these processes are
impossible there cannot be an infinity of intermediates between
A and F. Nor is it of any effect to urge that some terms of the
series AB...F are contiguous so as to exclude intermediates,
while others cannot be taken into the argument at all:
whichever terms of the series B...I take, the number of
intermediates in the direction either of A or of F must be finite
or infinite: where the infinite series starts, whether from the
first term or from a later one, is of no moment, for the
succeeding terms in any case are infinite in number.
21
Further, if in affirmative demonstration the series terminates in
both directions, clearly it will terminate too in negative
demonstration. Let us assume that we cannot proceed to
infinity either by ascending from the ultimate term (by ultimate
term I mean a term such as was, not itself attributable to a
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that the proof is not confined to one method, but employs them
all and is now in the first figure, now in the second or third
even so the regress will terminate, for the methods are finite in
number, and if finite things are combined in a finite number of
ways, the result must be finite.
Thus it is plain that the regress of middles terminates in the
case of negative demonstration, if it does so also in the case of
affirmative demonstration. That in fact the regress terminates
in both these cases may be made clear by the following
dialectical considerations.
22
In the case of predicates constituting the essential nature of a
thing, it clearly terminates, seeing that if definition is possible,
or in other words, if essential form is knowable, and an infinite
series cannot be traversed, predicates constituting a things
essential nature must be finite in number. But as regards
predicates generally we have the following prefatory remarks to
make. (1) We can affirm without falsehood the white (thing) is
walking, and that big (thing) is a log; or again, the log is big,
and the man walks. But the affirmation differs in the two
cases. When I affirm the white is a log, I mean that something
which happens to be white is a log not that white is the
substratum in which log inheres, for it was not qua white or qua
a species of white that the white (thing) came to be a log, and
the white (thing) is consequently not a log except incidentally.
On the other hand, when I affirm the log is white, I do not
mean that something else, which happens also to be a log, is
white (as I should if I said the musician is white, which would
mean the man who happens also to be a musician is white); on
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terminate,
and
consequently
the
23
It is an evident corollary of these conclusions that if the same
attribute A inheres in two terms C and D predicable either not at
all, or not of all instances, of one another, it does not always
belong to them in virtue of a common middle term. Isosceles
and scalene possess the attribute of having their angles equal to
two right angles in virtue of a common middle; for they possess
it in so far as they are both a certain kind of figure, and not in so
far as they differ from one another. But this is not always the
case: for, were it so, if we take B as the common middle in virtue
of which A inheres in C and D, clearly B would inhere in C and D
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24
Since demonstrations may be either commensurately universal
or particular, and either affirmative or negative; the question
arises, which form is the better? And the same question may be
put in regard to so-called direct demonstration and reductio ad
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learn that exterior angles are equal to four right angles because
they are the exterior angles of an isosceles, there still remains
the question Why has isosceles this attribute? and its answer
Because it is a triangle, and a triangle has it because a triangle
is a rectilinear figure. If rectilinear figure possesses the property
for no further reason, at this point we have full knowledge but
at this point our knowledge has become commensurately
universal, and so we conclude that commensurately universal
demonstration is superior.
(6) The more demonstration becomes particular the more it
sinks into an indeterminate manifold, while universal
demonstration tends to the simple and determinate. But objects
so far as they are an indeterminate manifold are unintelligible,
so far as they are determinate, intelligible: they are therefore
intelligible rather in so far as they are universal than in so far as
they are particular. From this it follows that universals are more
demonstrable: but since relative and correlative increase
concomitantly, of the more demonstrable there will be fuller
demonstration. Hence the commensurate and universal form,
being more truly demonstration, is the superior.
(7) Demonstration which teaches two things is preferable to
demonstration which teaches only one. He who possesses
commensurately universal demonstration knows the particular
as well, but he who possesses particular demonstration does
not know the universal. So that this is an additional reason for
preferring commensurately universal demonstration. And there
is yet this further argument:
(8) Proof becomes more and more proof of the commensurate
universal as its middle term approaches nearer to the basic
truth, and nothing is so near as the immediate premiss which is
itself the basic truth. If, then, proof from the basic truth is more
accurate than proof not so derived, demonstration which
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25
The preceding arguments constitute our defence of the
superiority of commensurately universal to particular
demonstration. That affirmative demonstration excels negative
may be shown as follows.
(1) We may assume the superiority ceteris paribus of the
demonstration which derives from fewer postulates or
hypotheses in short from fewer premisses; for, given that all
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these are equally well known, where they are fewer knowledge
will be more speedily acquired, and that is a desideratum. The
argument implied in our contention that demonstration from
fewer assumptions is superior may be set out in universal form
as follows. Assuming that in both cases alike the middle terms
are known, and that middles which are prior are better known
than such as are posterior, we may suppose two demonstrations
of the inherence of A in E, the one proving it through the
middles B, C and D, the other through F and G. Then A-D is
known to the same degree as A-E (in the second proof), but A-D
is better known than and prior to A-E (in the first proof); since
A-E is proved through A-D, and the ground is more certain than
the conclusion.
Hence demonstration by fewer premisses is ceteris paribus
superior. Now both affirmative and negative demonstration
operate through three terms and two premisses, but whereas
the former assumes only that something is, the latter assumes
both that something is and that something else is not, and thus
operating through more kinds of premiss is inferior.
(2) It has been proved that no conclusion follows if both
premisses are negative, but that one must be negative, the other
affirmative. So we are compelled to lay down the following
additional rule: as the demonstration expands, the affirmative
premisses must increase in number, but there cannot be more
than one negative premiss in each complete proof. Thus,
suppose no B is A, and all C is B. Then if both the premisses are
to be again expanded, a middle must be interposed. Let us
interpose D between A and B, and E between B and C. Then
clearly E is affirmatively related to B and C, while D is
affirmatively related to B but negatively to A; for all B is D, but
there must be no D which is A. Thus there proves to be a single
negative premiss, A-D. In the further prosyllogisms too it is the
same, because in the terms of an affirmative syllogism the
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26
Since affirmative demonstration is superior to negative, it is
clearly superior also to reductio ad impossibile. We must first
make certain what is the difference between negative
demonstration and reductio ad impossibile. Let us suppose that
no B is A, and that all C is B: the conclusion necessarily follows
that no C is A. If these premisses are assumed, therefore, the
negative demonstration that no C is A is direct. Reductio ad
impossibile, on the other hand, proceeds as follows. Supposing
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27
The science which is knowledge at once of the fact and of the
reasoned fact, not of the fact by itself without the reasoned fact,
is the more exact and the prior science.
A science such as arithmetic, which is not a science of
properties qua inhering in a substratum, is more exact than and
prior to a science like harmonics, which is a science of
pr,operties inhering in a substratum; and similarly a science like
arithmetic, which is constituted of fewer basic elements, is
more exact than and prior to geometry, which requires
additional elements. What I mean by additional elements is
this: a unit is substance without position, while a point is
substance with position; the latter contains an additional
element.
28
A single science is one whose domain is a single genus, viz. all
the subjects constituted out of the primary entities of the genus
i.e. the parts of this total subject and their essential
properties.
One science differs from another when their basic truths have
neither a common source nor are derived those of the one
science from those the other. This is verified when we reach the
indemonstrable premisses of a science, for they must be within
one genus with its conclusions: and this again is verified if the
conclusions proved by means of them fall within one genus
i.e. are homogeneous.
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29
One can have several demonstrations of the same connexion
not only by taking from the same series of predication middles
which are other than the immediately cohering term e.g. by
taking C, D, and F severally to prove A-B but also by taking a
middle from another series. Thus let A be change, D alteration
of a property, B feeling pleasure, and G relaxation. We can then
without falsehood predicate D of B and A of D, for he who is
pleased suffers alteration of a property, and that which alters a
property changes. Again, we can predicate A of G without
falsehood, and G of B; for to feel pleasure is to relax, and to relax
is to change. So the conclusion can be drawn through middles
which are different, i.e. not in the same series yet not so that
neither of these middles is predicable of the other, for they must
both be attributable to some one subject.
A further point worth investigating is how many ways of
proving the same conclusion can be obtained by varying the
figure.
30
There is no knowledge by demonstration of chance
conjunctions; for chance conjunctions exist neither by necessity
nor as general connexions but comprise what comes to be as
something distinct from these. Now demonstration is
concerned only with one or other of these two; for all reasoning
proceeds from necessary or general premisses, the conclusion
being necessary if the premisses are necessary and general if
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31
Scientific knowledge is not possible through the act of
perception. Even if perception as a faculty is of the such and
not merely of a this somewhat, yet one must at any rate
actually perceive a this somewhat, and at a definite present
place and time: but that which is commensurately universal
and true in all cases one cannot perceive, since it is not this
and it is not now; if it were, it would not be commensurately
universal the term we apply to what is always and
everywhere. Seeing, therefore, that demonstrations are
commensurately universal and universals imperceptible, we
clearly cannot obtain scientific knowledge by the act of
perception: nay, it is obvious that even if it were possible to
perceive that a triangle has its angles equal to two right angles,
we should still be looking for a demonstration we should not
(as some say) possess knowledge of it; for perception must be of
a particular, whereas scientific knowledge involves the
recognition of the commensurate universal. So if we were on
the moon, and saw the earth shutting out the suns light, we
should not know the cause of the eclipse: we should perceive
the present fact of the eclipse, but not the reasoned fact at all,
since the act of perception is not of the commensurate
universal. I do not, of course, deny that by watching the
frequent recurrence of this event we might, after tracking the
commensurate universal, possess a demonstration, for the
commensurate universal is elicited from the several groups of
singulars.
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32
All syllogisms cannot have the same basic truths. This may be
shown first of all by the following dialectical considerations. (1)
Some syllogisms are true and some false: for though a true
inference is possible from false premisses, yet this occurs once
only I mean if A for instance, is truly predicable of C, but B, the
middle, is false, both A-B and B-C being false; nevertheless, if
middles are taken to prove these premisses, they will be false
because every conclusion which is a falsehood has false
premisses, while true conclusions have true premisses, and
false and true differ in kind. Then again, (2) falsehoods are not
all derived from a single identical set of principles: there are
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33
Scientific knowledge and its object differ from opinion and the
object of opinion in that scientific knowledge is
commensurately universal and proceeds by necessary
connexions, and that which is necessary cannot be otherwise.
So though there are things which are true and real and yet can
be otherwise, scientific knowledge clearly does not concern
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that man is not essentially animal, that is, we may assume, may
be other than animal.
Further consideration of modes of thinking and their
distribution under the heads of discursive thought, intuition,
science, art, practical wisdom, and metaphysical thinking,
belongs rather partly to natural science, partly to moral
philosophy.
34
Quick wit is a faculty of hitting upon the middle term
instantaneously. It would be exemplified by a man who saw
that the moon has her bright side always turned towards the
sun, and quickly grasped the cause of this, namely that she
borrows her light from him; or observed somebody in
conversation with a man of wealth and divined that he was
borrowing money, or that the friendship of these people sprang
from a common enmity. In all these instances he has seen the
major and minor terms and then grasped the causes, the
middle terms.
Let A represent bright side turned sunward, B lighted from the
sun, C the moon. Then B, lighted from the sun is predicable of
C, the moon, and A, having her bright side towards the source
of her light, is predicable of B. So A is predicable of C through B.
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Book II
1
The kinds of question we ask are as many as the kinds of things
which we know. They are in fact four: (1) whether the
connexion of an attribute with a thing is a fact, (2) what is the
reason of the connexion, (3) whether a thing exists, (4) What is
the nature of the thing. Thus, when our question concerns a
complex of thing and attribute and we ask whether the thing is
thus or otherwise qualified whether, e.g. the sun suffers
eclipse or not then we are asking as to the fact of a connexion.
That our inquiry ceases with the discovery that the sun does
suffer eclipse is an indication of this; and if we know from the
start that the sun suffers eclipse, we do not inquire whether it
does so or not. On the other hand, when we know the fact we
ask the reason; as, for example, when we know that the sun is
being eclipsed and that an earthquake is in progress, it is the
reason of eclipse or earthquake into which we inquire.
Where a complex is concerned, then, those are the two
questions we ask; but for some objects of inquiry we have a
different kind of question to ask, such as whether there is or is
not a centaur or a God. (By is or is not I mean is or is not,
without further qualification; as opposed to is or is not [e.g.]
white.) On the other hand, when we have ascertained the
things existence, we inquire as to its nature, asking, for
instance, what, then, is God? or what is man?.
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2
These, then, are the four kinds of question we ask, and it is in
the answers to these questions that our knowledge consists.
Now when we ask whether a connexion is a fact, or whether a
thing without qualification is, we are really asking whether the
connexion or the thing has a middle; and when we have
ascertained either that the connexion is a fact or that the thing
is i.e. ascertained either the partial or the unqualified being of
the thing-and are proceeding to ask the reason of the connexion
or the nature of the thing, then we are asking what the middle
is.
(By distinguishing the fact of the connexion and the existence
of the thing as respectively the partial and the unqualified being
of the thing, I mean that if we ask does the moon suffer
eclipse?, or does the moon wax?, the question concerns a part
of the things being; for what we are asking in such questions is
whether a thing is this or that, i.e. has or has not this or that
attribute: whereas, if we ask whether the moon or night exists,
the question concerns the unqualified being of a thing.)
We conclude that in all our inquiries we are asking either
whether there is a middle or what the middle is: for the
middle here is precisely the cause, and it is the cause that we
seek in all our inquiries. Thus, Does the moon suffer eclipse?
means Is there or is there not a cause producing eclipse of the
moon?, and when we have learnt that there is, our next
question is, What, then, is this cause? for the cause through
which a thing is not is this or that, i.e. has this or that
attribute, but without qualification is and the cause through
which it is not is without qualification, but is this or that as
having some essential attribute or some accident are both
alike the middle. By that which is without qualification I mean
the subject, e.g. moon or earth or sun or triangle; by that which
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3
It is clear, then, that all questions are a search for a middle. Let
us now state how essential nature is revealed and in what way
it can be reduced to demonstration; what definition is, and
what things are definable. And let us first discuss certain
difficulties which these questions raise, beginning what we
have to say with a point most intimately connected with our
immediately preceding remarks, namely the doubt that might
be felt as to whether or not it is possible to know the same thing
in the same relation, both by definition and by demonstration. It
might, I mean, be urged that definition is held to concern
essential nature and is in every case universal and affirmative;
whereas, on the other hand, some conclusions are negative and
some are not universal; e.g. all in the second figure are negative,
none in the third are universal. And again, not even all
affirmative conclusions in the first figure are definable, e.g.
every triangle has its angles equal to two right angles. An
argument proving this difference between demonstration and
definition is that to have scientific knowledge of the
demonstrable is identical with possessing a demonstration of it:
hence if demonstration of such conclusions as these is possible,
there clearly cannot also be definition of them. If there could,
one might know such a conclusion also in virtue of its
definition without possessing the demonstration of it; for there
is nothing to stop our having the one without the other.
Induction too will sufficiently convince us of this difference; for
never yet by defining anything essential attribute or accident
did we get knowledge of it. Again, if to define is to acquire
knowledge of a substance, at any rate such attributes are not
substances.
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of demonstrations are
shown that these will be
basic premisses will be
prior premisses, and the
primary truths will be
But if the definable and the demonstrable are not wholly the
same, may they yet be partially the same? Or is that impossible,
because there can be no demonstration of the definable? There
can be none, because definition is of the essential nature or
being of something, and all demonstrations evidently posit and
assume the essential nature mathematical demonstrations,
for example, the nature of unity and the odd, and all the other
sciences likewise. Moreover, every demonstration proves a
predicate of a subject as attaching or as not attaching to it, but
in definition one thing is not predicated of another; we do not,
e.g. predicate animal of biped nor biped of animal, nor yet figure
of plane plane not being figure nor figure plane. Again, to
prove essential nature is not the same as to prove the fact of a
connexion.
Now
definition
reveals
essential
nature,
demonstration reveals that a given attribute attaches or does
not attach to a given subject; but different things require
different demonstrations unless the one demonstration is
related to the other as part to whole. I add this because if all
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4
So much, then, for the first stage of our problem. The next step
is to raise the question whether syllogism i.e. demonstration
of the definable nature is possible or, as our recent argument
assumed, impossible.
We might argue it impossible on the following grounds: (a)
syllogism proves an attribute of a subject through the middle
term; on the other hand (b) its definable nature is both peculiar
to a subject and predicated of it as belonging to its essence. But
in that case (1) the subject, its definition, and the middle term
connecting them must be reciprocally predicable of one
another; for if A is to C, obviously A is peculiar to B and B to C
in fact all three terms are peculiar to one another: and further
(2) if A inheres in the essence of all B and B is predicated
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294
5
Nor, as was said in my formal logic, is the method of division a
process of inference at all, since at no point does the
characterization of the subject follow necessarily from the
premising of certain other facts: division demonstrates as little
as does induction. For in a genuine demonstration the
conclusion must not be put as a question nor depend on a
concession, but must follow necessarily from its premisses,
even if the respondent deny it. The definer asks Is man animal
or inanimate? and then assumes he has not inferred that
man is animal. Next, when presented with an exhaustive
division of animal into terrestrial and aquatic, he assumes that
man is terrestrial. Moreover, that man is the complete formula,
terrestrial-animal, does not follow necessarily from the
premisses: this too is an assumption, and equally an
assumption whether the division comprises many differentiae
or few. (Indeed as this method of division is used by those who
proceed by it, even truths that can be inferred actually fail to
appear as such.) For why should not the whole of this formula
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296
6
Can we nevertheless actually demonstrate what a thing
essentially and substantially is, but hypothetically, i.e. by
premising (1) that its definable form is constituted by the
peculiar attributes of its essential nature; (2) that such and
such are the only attributes of its essential nature, and that the
complete synthesis of them is peculiar to the thing; and thus
since in this synthesis consists the being of the thing
obtaining our conclusion? Or is the truth that, since proof must
be through the middle term, the definable form is once more
assumed in this minor premiss too?
Further, just as in syllogizing we do not premise what syllogistic
inference is (since the premisses from which we conclude must
be related as whole and part), so the definable form must not
fall within the syllogism but remain outside the premisses
posited. It is only against a doubt as to its having been a
syllogistic inference at all that we have to defend our argument
as conforming to the definition of syllogism. It is only when
some one doubts whether the conclusion proved is the
definable form that we have to defend it as conforming to the
definition of definable form which we assumed. Hence
syllogistic inference must be possible even without the express
statement of what syllogism is or what definable form is.
The following type of hypothetical proof also begs the question.
If evil is definable as the divisible, and the definition of a things
contrary if it has one the contrary of the things definition;
then, if good is the contrary of evil and the indivisible of the
divisible, we conclude that to be good is essentially to be
indivisible. The question is begged because definable form is
assumed as a premiss, and as a premiss which is to prove
definable form. But not the same definable form, you may
object. That I admit, for in demonstrations also we premise that
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7
How then by definition shall we prove substance or essential
nature? We cannot show it as a fresh fact necessarily following
from the assumption of premisses admitted to be facts the
method of demonstration: we may not proceed as by induction
to establish a universal on the evidence of groups of particulars
which offer no exception, because induction proves not what
the essential nature of a thing is but that it has or has not some
attribute. Therefore, since presumably one cannot prove
essential nature by an appeal to sense perception or by pointing
with the finger, what other method remains?
To put it another way: how shall we by definition prove
essential nature? He who knows what human or any other
nature is, must know also that man exists; for no one knows the
nature of what does not exist one can know the meaning of
the phrase or name goat-stag but not what the essential
nature of a goat-stag is. But further, if definition can prove what
is the essential nature of a thing, can it also prove that it exists?
And how will it prove them both by the same process, since
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299
8
We must now start afresh and consider which of these
conclusions are sound and which are not, and what is the
nature of definition, and whether essential nature is in any
sense demonstrable and definable or in none.
Now to know its essential nature is, as we said, the same as to
know the cause of a things existence, and the proof of this
depends on the fact that a thing must have a cause. Moreover,
this cause is either identical with the essential nature of the
thing or distinct from it; and if its cause is distinct from it, the
essential nature of the thing is either demonstrable or
indemonstrable. Consequently, if the cause is distinct from the
things essential nature and demonstration is possible, the
cause must be the middle term, and, the conclusion proved
being universal and affirmative, the proof is in the first figure.
So the method just examined of proving it through another
essential nature would be one way of proving essential nature,
because a conclusion containing essential nature must be
inferred through a middle which is an essential nature just as a
peculiar property must be inferred through a middle which is a
peculiar property; so that of the two definable natures of a
single thing this method will prove one and not the other.
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Now it was said before that this method could not amount to
demonstration of essential nature it is actually a dialectical
proof of it so let us begin again and explain by what method it
can be demonstrated. When we are aware of a fact we seek its
reason, and though sometimes the fact and the reason dawn on
us simultaneously, yet we cannot apprehend the reason a
moment sooner than the fact; and clearly in just the same way
we cannot apprehend a things definable form without
apprehending that it exists, since while we are ignorant
whether it exists we cannot know its essential nature. Moreover
we are aware whether a thing exists or not sometimes through
apprehending an element in its character, and sometimes
accidentally, as, for example, when we are aware of thunder as a
noise in the clouds, of eclipse as a privation of light, or of man
as some species of animal, or of the soul as a self-moving thing.
As often as we have accidental knowledge that the thing exists,
we must be in a wholly negative state as regards awareness of
its essential nature; for we have not got genuine knowledge
even of its existence, and to search for a things essential nature
when we are unaware that it exists is to search for nothing. On
the other hand, whenever we apprehend an element in the
things character there is less difficulty. Thus it follows that the
degree of our knowledge of a things essential nature is
determined by the sense in which we are aware that it exists.
Let us then take the following as our first instance of being
aware of an element in the essential nature. Let A be eclipse, C
the moon, B the earths acting as a screen. Now to ask whether
the moon is eclipsed or not is to ask whether or not B has
occurred. But that is precisely the same as asking whether A has
a defining condition; and if this condition actually exists, we
assert that A also actually exists. Or again we may ask which
side of a contradiction the defining condition necessitates: does
it make the angles of a triangle equal or not equal to two right
angles? When we have found the answer, if the premisses are
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302
9
Now while some things have a cause distinct from themselves,
others have not. Hence it is evident that there are essential
natures which are immediate, that is are basic premisses; and
of these not only that they are but also what they are must be
assumed or revealed in some other way. This too is the actual
procedure of the arithmetician, who assumes both the nature
and the existence of unit. On the other hand, it is possible (in
the manner explained) to exhibit through demonstration the
essential nature of things which have a middle, i.e. a cause of
their substantial being other than that being itself; but we do
not thereby demonstrate it.
10
Since definition is said to be the statement of a things nature,
obviously one kind of definition will be a statement of the
meaning of the name, or of an equivalent nominal formula. A
definition in this sense tells you, e.g. the meaning of the phrase
triangular character. When we are aware that triangle exists,
we inquire the reason why it exists. But it is difficult thus to
learn the definition of things the existence of which we do not
genuinely know the cause of this difficulty being, as we said
before, that we only know accidentally whether or not the thing
exists. Moreover, a statement may be a unity in either of two
ways, by conjunction, like the Iliad, or because it exhibits a
single predicate as inhering not accidentally in a single subject.
That then is one way of defining definition. Another kind of
definition is a formula exhibiting the cause of a things
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11
We think we have scientific knowledge when we know the
cause, and there are four causes: (1) the definable form, (2) an
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305
306
12
The effect may be still coming to be, or its occurrence may be
past or future, yet the cause will be the same as when it is
actually existent for it is the middle which is the cause
except that if the effect actually exists the cause is actually
existent, if it is coming to be so is the cause, if its occurrence is
past the cause is past, if future the cause is future. For example,
the moon was eclipsed because the earth intervened, is
becoming eclipsed because the earth is in process of
intervening, will be eclipsed because the earth will intervene, is
eclipsed because the earth intervenes.
To take a second example: assuming that the definition of ice is
solidified water, let C be water, A solidified, B the middle, which
is the cause, namely total failure of heat. Then B is attributed to
C, and A, solidification, to B: ice when B is occurring, has formed
when B has occurred, and will form when B shall occur.
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309
will exist, A will exist prior to it. And here too the same infinite
divisibility might be urged, since future events are not
contiguous. But here too an immediate basic premiss must be
assumed. And in the world of fact this is so: if a house has been
built, then blocks must have been quarried and shaped. The
reason is that a house having been built necessitates a
foundation having been laid, and if a foundation has been laid
blocks must have been shaped beforehand. Again, if a house
will be built, blocks will similarly be shaped beforehand; and
proof is through the middle in the same way, for the foundation
will exist before the house.
Now we observe in Nature a certain kind of circular process of
coming-to-be; and this is possible only if the middle and
extreme terms are reciprocal, since conversion is conditioned by
reciprocity in the terms of the proof. This the convertibility of
conclusions and premisses has been proved in our early
chapters, and the circular process is an instance of this. In
actual fact it is exemplified thus: when the earth had been
moistened an exhalation was bound to rise, and when an
exhalation had risen cloud was bound to form, and from the
formation of cloud rain necessarily resulted and by the fall of
rain the earth was necessarily moistened: but this was the
starting-point, so that a circle is completed; for posit any one of
the terms and another follows from it, and from that another,
and from that again the first.
Some occurrences are universal (for they are, or come-to-be
what they are, always and in ever case); others again are not
always what they are but only as a general rule: for instance,
not every man can grow a beard, but it is the general rule. In the
case of such connexions the middle term too must be a general
rule. For if A is predicated universally of B and B of C, A too must
be predicated always and in every instance of C, since to hold in
every instance and always is of the nature of the universal. But
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13
We have already explained how essential nature is set out in
the terms of a demonstration, and the sense in which it is or is
not demonstrable or definable; so let us now discuss the
method to be adopted in tracing the elements predicated as
constituting the definable form.
Now of the attributes which inhere always in each several thing
there are some which are wider in extent than it but not wider
than its genus (by attributes of wider extent mean all such as
are universal attributes of each several subject, but in their
application are not confined to that subject). while an attribute
may inhere in every triad, yet also in a subject not a triad as
being inheres in triad but also in subjects not numbers at all
odd on the other hand is an attribute inhering in every triad and
of wider application (inhering as it does also in pentad), but
which does not extend beyond the genus of triad; for pentad is a
number, but nothing outside number is odd. It is such attributes
which we have to select, up to the exact point at which they are
severally of wider extent than the subject but collectively
coextensive with it; for this synthesis must be the substance of
the thing. For example every triad possesses the attributes
number, odd, and prime in both senses, i.e. not only as
possessing no divisors, but also as not being a sum of numbers.
This, then, is precisely what triad is, viz. a number, odd, and
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prime in the former and also the latter sense of the term: for
these attributes taken severally apply, the first two to all odd
numbers, the last to the dyad also as well as to the triad, but,
taken collectively, to no other subject. Now since we have
shown above that attributes predicated as belonging to the
essential nature are necessary and that universals are
necessary, and since the attributes which we select as inhering
in triad, or in any other subject whose attributes we select in
this way, are predicated as belonging to its essential nature,
triad will thus possess these attributes necessarily. Further, that
the synthesis of them constitutes the substance of triad is
shown by the following argument. If it is not identical with the
being of triad, it must be related to triad as a genus named or
nameless. It will then be of wider extent than triad assuming
that wider potential extent is the character of a genus. If on the
other hand this synthesis is applicable to no subject other than
the individual triads, it will be identical with the being of triad,
because we make the further assumption that the substance of
each subject is the predication of elements in its essential
nature down to the last differentia characterizing the
individuals. It follows that any other synthesis thus exhibited
will likewise be identical with the being of the subject.
The author of a hand-book on a subject that is a generic whole
should divide the genus into its first infimae species number
e.g. into triad and dyad and then endeavour to seize their
definitions by the method we have described the definition,
for example, of straight line or circle or right angle. After that,
having established what the category is to which the subaltern
genus belongs quantity or quality, for instance he should
examine the properties peculiar to the species, working
through the proximate common differentiae. He should proceed
thus because the attributes of the genera compounded of the
infimae species will be clearly given by the definitions of the
species; since the basic element of them all is the definition, i.e.
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313
316
14
In order to formulate the connexions we wish to prove we have
to select our analyses and divisions. The method of selection
consists in laying down the common genus of all our subjects of
investigation if e.g. they are animals, we lay down what the
properties are which inhere in every animal. These established,
we next lay down the properties essentially connected with the
first of the remaining classes e.g. if this first subgenus is bird,
the essential properties of every bird and so on, always
characterizing the proximate subgenus. This will clearly at once
enable us to say in virtue of what character the subgenera
man, e.g. or horse possess their properties. Let A be animal, B
the properties of every animal, C D E various species of animal.
Then it is clear in virtue of what character B inheres in D
namely A and that it inheres in C and E for the same reason:
and throughout the remaining subgenera always the same rule
applies.
We are now taking our examples from the traditional classnames, but we must not confine ourselves to considering these.
We must collect any other common character which we
observe, and then consider with what species it is connected
and what.properties belong to it. For example, as the common
properties of horned animals we collect the possession of a
third stomach and only one row of teeth. Then since it is clear
in virtue of what character they possess these attributes
namely their horned character the next question is, to what
species does the possession of horns attach?
Yet a further method of selection is by analogy: for we cannot
find a single identical name to give to a squids pounce, a fishs
spine, and an animals bone, although these too possess
common properties as if there were a single osseous nature.
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15
Some connexions that require proof are identical in that they
possess an identical middle e.g. a whole group might be proved
through reciprocal replacement and of these one class are
identical in genus, namely all those whose difference consists
in their concerning different subjects or in their mode of
manifestation. This latter class may be exemplified by the
questions as to the causes respectively of echo, of reflection,
and of the rainbow: the connexions to be proved which these
questions embody are identical generically, because all three are
forms of repercussion; but specifically they are different.
Other connexions that require proof only differ in that the
middle of the one is subordinate to the middle of the other.
For example: Why does the Nile rise towards the end of the
month? Because towards its close the month is more stormy.
Why is the month more stormy towards its close? Because the
moon is waning. Here the one cause is subordinate to the other.
16
The question might be raised with regard to cause and effect
whether when the effect is present the cause also is present;
whether, for instance, if a plant sheds its leaves or the moon is
eclipsed, there is present also the cause of the eclipse or of the
fall of the leaves the possession of broad leaves, let us say, in
the latter case, in the former the earths interposition. For, one
might argue, if this cause is not present, these phenomena will
have some other cause: if it is present, its effect will be at once
implied by it the eclipse by the earths interposition, the fall of
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the leaves by the possession of broad leaves; but if so, they will
be logically coincident and each capable of proof through the
other. Let me illustrate: Let A be deciduous character, B the
possession of broad leaves, C vine. Now if A inheres in B (for
every broad-leaved plant is deciduous), and B in C (every vine
possessing broad leaves); then A inheres in C (every vine is
deciduous), and the middle term B is the cause. But we can also
demonstrate that the vine has broad leaves because it is
deciduous. Thus, let D be broad-leaved, E deciduous, F vine.
Then E inheres in F (since every vine is deciduous), and D in E
(for every deciduous plant has broad leaves): therefore every
vine has broad leaves, and the cause is its deciduous character.
If, however, they cannot each be the cause of the other (for
cause is prior to effect, and the earths interposition is the cause
of the moons eclipse and not the eclipse of the interposition)
if, then, demonstration through the cause is of the reasoned
fact and demonstration not through the cause is of the bare
fact, one who knows it through the eclipse knows the fact of the
earths interposition but not the reasoned fact. Moreover, that
the eclipse is not the cause of the interposition, but the
interposition of the eclipse, is obvious because the interposition
is an element in the definition of eclipse, which shows that the
eclipse is known through the interposition and not vice versa.
On the other hand, can a single effect have more than one
cause? One might argue as follows: if the same attribute is
predicable of more than one thing as its primary subject, let B
be a primary subject in which A inheres, and C another primary
subject of A, and D and E primary subjects of B and C
respectively. A will then inhere in D and E, and B will be the
cause of As inherence in D, C of As inherence in E. The presence
of the cause thus necessitates that of the effect, but the
presence of the effect necessitates the presence not of all that
may cause it but only of a cause which yet need not be the
whole cause. We may, however, suggest that if the connexion to
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17
Can the cause of an identical effect be not identical in every
instance of the effect but different? Or is that impossible?
Perhaps it is impossible if the effect is demonstrated as
essential and not as inhering in virtue of a symptom or an
accident because the middle is then the definition of the
major term though possible if the demonstration is not
essential. Now it is possible to consider the effect and its subject
as an accidental conjunction, though such conjunctions would
not be regarded as connexions demanding scientific proof. But
if they are accepted as such, the middle will correspond to the
extremes, and be equivocal if they are equivocal, generically one
if they are generically one. Take the question why proportionals
alternate. The cause when they are lines, and when they are
numbers, is both different and identical; different in so far as
lines are lines and not numbers, identical as involving a given
determinate increment. In all proportionals this is so. Again, the
cause of likeness between colour and colour is other than that
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18
If immediate premisses are not reached at once, and there is
not merely one middle but several middles, i.e. several causes; is
the cause of the propertys inherence in the several species the
middle which is proximate to the primary universal, or the
middle which is proximate to the species? Clearly the cause is
that nearest to each species severally in which it is manifested,
for that is the cause of the subjects falling under the universal.
To illustrate formally: C is the cause of Bs inherence in D; hence
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19
As regards syllogism and demonstration, the definition of, and
the conditions required to produce each of them, are now clear,
and with that also the definition of, and the conditions required
to produce, demonstrative knowledge, since it is the same as
demonstration. As to the basic premisses, how they become
known and what is the developed state of knowledge of them is
made clear by raising some preliminary problems.
We have already said that scientific knowledge through
demonstration is impossible unless a man knows the primary
immediate premisses. But there are questions which might be
raised in respect of the apprehension of these immediate
premisses: one might not only ask whether it is of the same
kind as the apprehension of the conclusions, but also whether
there is or is not scientific knowledge of both; or scientific
knowledge of the latter, and of the former a different kind of
knowledge; and, further, whether the developed states of
knowledge are not innate but come to be in us, or are innate but
at first unnoticed. Now it is strange if we possess them from
birth; for it means that we possess apprehensions more
accurate than demonstration and fail to notice them. If on the
other hand we acquire them and do not previously possess
them, how could we apprehend and learn without a basis of
pre-existent knowledge? For that is impossible, as we used to
find in the case of demonstration. So it emerges that neither
can we possess them from birth, nor can they come to be in us
if we are without knowledge of them to the extent of having no
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universal is present in the soul: for though the act of senseperception is of the particular, its content is universal is man,
for example, not the man Callias. A fresh stand is made among
these rudimentary universals, and the process does not cease
until the indivisible concepts, the true universals, are
established: e.g. such and such a species of animal is a step
towards the genus animal, which by the same process is a step
towards a further generalization.
Thus it is clear that we must get to know the primary premisses
by induction; for the method by which even sense-perception
implants the universal is inductive. Now of the thinking states
by which we grasp truth, some are unfailingly true, others admit
of error opinion, for instance, and calculation, whereas
scientific knowing and intuition are always true: further, no
other kind of thought except intuition is more accurate than
scientific knowledge, whereas primary premisses are more
knowable than demonstrations, and all scientific knowledge is
discursive. From these considerations it follows that there will
be no scientific knowledge of the primary premisses, and since
except intuition nothing can be truer than scientific knowledge,
it will be intuition that apprehends the primary premisses a
result which also follows from the fact that demonstration
cannot be the originative source of demonstration, nor,
consequently, scientific knowledge of scientific knowledge.If,
therefore, it is the only other kind of true thinking except
scientific knowing, intuition will be the originative source of
scientific knowledge. And the originative source of science
grasps the original basic premiss, while science as a whole is
similarly related as originative source to the whole body of fact.
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Aristotle Topics
[Translated by W. A. Pickard-Cambridge]
Book I
1
Our treatise proposes to find a line of inquiry whereby we shall
be able to reason from opinions that are generally accepted
about every problem propounded to us, and also shall ourselves,
when standing up to an argument, avoid saying anything that
will obstruct us. First, then, we must say what reasoning is, and
what its varieties are, in order to grasp dialectical reasoning: for
this is the object of our search in the treatise before us.
Now reasoning is an argument in which, certain things being
laid down, something other than these necessarily comes about
through them. (a) It is a demonstration, when the premisses
from which the reasoning starts are true and primary, or are
such that our knowledge of them has originally come through
premisses which are primary and true: (b) reasoning, on the
other hand, is dialectical, if it reasons from opinions that are
generally accepted. Things are true and primary which are
believed on the strength not of anything else but of themselves:
for in regard to the first principles of science it is improper to
ask any further for the why and wherefore of them; each of the
first principles should command belief in and by itself. On the
other hand, those opinions are generally accepted which are
accepted by every one or by the majority or by the philosophers
i.e. by all, or by the majority, or by the most notable and
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2
Next in order after the foregoing, we must say for how many
and for what purposes the treatise is useful. They are three
intellectual training, casual encounters, and the philosophical
sciences. That it is useful as a training is obvious on the face of
it. The possession of a plan of inquiry will enable us more easily
to argue about the subject proposed. For purposes of casual
encounters, it is useful because when we have counted up the
opinions held by most people, we shall meet them on the
ground not of other peoples convictions but of their own, while
we shift the ground of any argument that they appear to us to
state unsoundly. For the study of the philosophical sciences it is
useful, because the ability to raise searching difficulties on both
sides of a subject will make us detect more easily the truth and
error about the several points that arise. It has a further use in
relation to the ultimate bases of the principles used in the
several sciences. For it is impossible to discuss them at all from
the principles proper to the particular science in hand, seeing
that the principles are the prius of everything else: it is through
the opinions generally held on the particular points that these
have to be discussed, and this task belongs properly, or most
appropriately, to dialectic: for dialectic is a process of criticism
wherein lies the path to the principles of all inquiries.
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3
We shall be in perfect possession of the way to proceed when
we are in a position like that which we occupy in regard to
rhetoric and medicine and faculties of that kind: this means the
doing of that which we choose with the materials that are
available. For it is not every method that the rhetorician will
employ to persuade, or the doctor to heal; still, if he omits none
of the available means, we shall say that his grasp of the science
is adequate.
4
First, then, we must see of what parts our inquiry consists. Now
if we were to grasp (a) with reference to how many, and what
kind of, things arguments take place, and with what materials
they start, and (b) how we are to become well supplied with
these, we should have sufficiently won our goal. Now the
materials with which arguments start are equal in number, and
are identical, with the subjects on which reasonings take place.
For arguments start with propositions, while the subjects on
which reasonings take place are problems. Now every
proposition and every problem indicates either a genus or a
peculiarity or an accident for the differentia too, applying as it
does to a class (or genus), should be ranked together with the
genus. Since, however, of what is peculiar to anything part
signifies its essence, while part does not, let us divide the
peculiar into both the aforesaid parts, and call that part which
indicates the essence a definition, while of the remainder let
us adopt the terminology which is generally current about these
things, and speak of it as a property. What we have said, then,
makes it clear that according to our present division, the
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5
We must now say what are definition, property, genus, and
accident. A definition is a phrase signifying a things essence.
It is rendered in the form either of a phrase in lieu of a term, or
of a phrase in lieu of another phrase; for it is sometimes
possible to define the meaning of a phrase as well. People
whose rendering consists of a term only, try it as they may,
clearly do not render the definition of the thing in question,
because a definition is always a phrase of a certain kind. One
may, however, use the word definitory also of such a remark as
The becoming is beautiful, and likewise also of the
question, Are sensation and knowledge the same or different?,
for argument about definitions is mostly concerned with
questions of sameness and difference. In a word we may call
definitory everything that falls under the same branch of
inquiry as definitions; and that all the above-mentioned
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6
We must not fail to observe that all remarks made in criticism
of a property and genus and accident will be applicable to
definitions as well. For when we have shown that the attribute
in question fails to belong only to the term defined, as we do
also in the case of a property, or that the genus rendered in the
definition is not the true genus, or that any of the things
mentioned in the phrase used does not belong, as would be
remarked also in the case of an accident, we shall have
demolished the definition; so that, to use the phrase previously
employed, all the points we have enumerated might in a
certain sense be called definitory. But we must not on this
account expect to find a single line of inquiry which will apply
universally to them all: for this is not an easy thing to find, and,
even were one found, it would be very obscure indeed, and of
little service for the treatise before us. Rather, a special plan of
inquiry must be laid down for each of the classes we have
distinguished, and then, starting from the rules that are
appropriate in each case, it will probably be easier to make our
way right through the task before us. So then, as was said
before, we must outline a division of our subject, and other
questions we must relegate each to the particular branch to
which it most naturally belongs, speaking of them as definitory
and generic questions. The questions I mean have practically
been already assigned to their several branches.
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7
First of all we must define the number of senses borne by the
term Sameness. Sameness would be generally regarded as
falling, roughly speaking, into three divisions. We generally
apply the term numerically or specifically or generically
numerically in cases where there is more than one name but
only one thing, e.g. doublet and cloak; specifically, where
there is more than one thing, but they present no differences in
respect of their species, as one man and another, or one horse
and another: for things like this that fall under the same species
are said to be specifically the same. Similarly, too, those things
are called generically the same which fall under the same
genus, such as a horse and a man. It might appear that the
sense in which water from the same spring is called the same
water is somehow different and unlike the senses mentioned
above: but really such a case as this ought to be ranked in the
same class with the things that in one way or another are called
the same in view of unity of species. For all such things seem
to be of one family and to resemble one another. For the reaon
why all water is said to be specifically the same as all other
water is because of a certain likeness it bears to it, and the only
difference in the case of water drawn from the same spring is
this, that the likeness is more emphatic: that is why we do not
distinguish it from the things that in one way or another are
called the same in view of unity of species. It is generally
supposed that the term the same is most used in a sense
agreed on by every one when applied to what is numerically
one. But even so, it is apt to be rendered in more than one
sense; its most literal and primary use is found whenever the
sameness is rendered in reference to an alternative name or
definition, as when a cloak is said to be the same as a doublet,
or an animal that walks on two feet is said to be the same as a
man: a second sense is when it is rendered in reference to a
property, as when what can acquire knowledge is called the
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8
Of sameness then, as has been said, three senses are to be
distinguished. Now one way to confirm that the elements
mentioned above are those out of which and through which and
to which arguments proceed, is by induction: for if any one were
to survey propositions and problems one by one, it would be
seen that each was formed either from the definition of
something or from its property or from its genus or from its
accident. Another way to confirm it is through reasoning. For
every predicate of a subject must of necessity be either
convertible with its subject or not: and if it is convertible, it
would be its definition or property, for if it signifies the essence,
it is the definition; if not, it is a property: for this was what a
property is, viz. what is predicated convertibly, but does not
signify the essence. If, on the other hand, it is not predicated
convertibly of the thing, it either is or is not one of the terms
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9
Next, then, we must distinguish between the classes of
predicates in which the four orders in question are found. These
are ten in number: Essence, Quantity, Quality, Relation, Place,
Time, Position, State, Activity, Passivity. For the accident and
genus and property and definition of anything will always be in
one of these categories: for all the propositions found through
these signify either somethings essence or its quality or
quantity or some one of the other types of predicate. It is clear,
too, on the face of it that the man who signifies somethings
essence signifies sometimes a substance, sometimes a quality,
sometimes some one of the other types of predicate. For when
man is set before him and he says that what is set there is a
man or an animal, he states its essence and signifies a
substance; but when a white colour is set before him and he
says that what is set there is white or is a colour, he states its
essence and signifies a quality. Likewise, also, if a magnitude of
a cubit be set before him and he says that what is set there is a
magnitude of a cubit, he will be describing its essence and
signifying a quantity. Likewise, also, in the other cases: for each
of these kinds of predicate, if either it be asserted of itself, or its
genus be asserted of it, signifies an essence: if, on the other
hand, one kind of predicate is asserted of another kind, it does
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10
First, then, a definition must be given of a dialectical
proposition and a dialectical problem. For it is not every
proposition nor yet every problem that is to be set down as
dialectical: for no one in his senses would make a proposition of
what no one holds, nor yet make a problem of what is obvious
to everybody or to most people: for the latter admits of no
doubt, while to the former no one would assent. Now a
dialectical proposition consists in asking something that is held
by all men or by most men or by the philosophers, i.e. either by
all, or by most, or by the most notable of these, provided it be
not contrary to the general opinion; for a man would probably
assent to the view of the philosophers, if it be not contrary to
the opinions of most men. Dialectical propositions also include
views which are like those generally accepted; also propositions
which contradict the contraries of opinions that are taken to be
generally accepted, and also all opinions that are in accordance
with the recognized arts. Thus, supposing it to be a general
opinion that the knowledge of contraries is the same, it might
probably pass for a general opinion also that the perception of
contraries is the same: also, supposing it to be a general opinion
that there is but one single science of grammar, it might pass
for a general opinion that there is but one science of fluteplaying as well, whereas, if it be a general opinion that there is
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11
A dialectical problem is a subject of inquiry that contributes
either to choice and avoidance, or to truth and knowledge, and
that either by itself, or as a help to the solution of some other
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12
Having drawn these definitions, we must distinguish how many
species there are of dialectical arguments. There is on the one
hand Induction, on the other Reasoning. Now what reasoning is
has been said before: induction is a passage from individuals to
universals, e.g. the argument that supposing the skilled pilot is
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13
The classes, then, of things about which, and of things out of
which, arguments are constructed, are to be distinguished in
the way we have said before. The means whereby we are to
become well supplied with reasonings are four: (1) the securing
of propositions; (2) the power to distinguish in how many
senses particular expression is used; (3) the discovery of the
differences of things; (4) the investigation of likeness. The last
three, as well, are in a certain sense propositions: for it is
possible to make a proposition corresponding to each of them,
e.g. (1) The desirable may mean either the honourable or the
pleasant or the expedient; and (2) Sensation differs from
knowledge in that the latter may be recovered again after it has
been lost, while the former cannot; and (3) The relation of the
healthy to health is like that of the vigorous to vigour. The first
proposition depends upon the use of one term in several senses,
the second upon the differences of things, the third upon their
likenesses.
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14
Propositions should be selected in a number of ways
corresponding to the number of distinctions drawn in regard to
the proposition: thus one may first take in hand the opinions
held by all or by most men or by the philosophers, i.e. by all, or
most, or the most notable of them; or opinions contrary to those
that seem to be generally held; and, again, all opinions that are
in accordance with the arts. We must make propositions also of
the contradictories of opinions contrary to those that seem to
be generally held, as was laid down before. It is useful also to
make them by selecting not only those opinions that actually
are accepted, but also those that are like these, e.g. The
perception of contraries is the same the knowledge of them
being so and we see by admission of something into
ourselves, not by an emission; for so it is, too, in the case of the
other senses; for in hearing we admit something into ourselves;
we do not emit; and we taste in the same way. Likewise also in
the other cases. Moreover, all statements that seem to be true in
all or in most cases, should be taken as a principle or accepted
position; for they are posited by those who do not also see what
exception there may be. We should select also from the written
handbooks of argument, and should draw up sketch-lists of
them upon each several kind of subject, putting them down
under separate headings, e.g. On Good, or On Life and that
On Good should deal with every form of good, beginning with
the category of essence. In the margin, too, one should indicate
also the opinions of individual thinkers, e.g. Empedocles said
that the elements of bodies were four: for any one might assent
to the saying of some generally accepted authority.
Of propositions and problems there are to comprehend the
matter in outline three divisions: for some are ethical
propositions, some are on natural philosophy, while some are
logical. Propositions such as the following are ethical, e.g.
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15
On the formation, then, of propositions, the above remarks are
enough. As regards the number of senses a term bears, we must
not only treat of those terms which bear different senses, but
we must also try to render their definitions; e.g. we must not
merely say that justice and courage are called good in one
sense, and that what conduces to vigour and what conduces to
health are called so in another, but also that the former are so
called because of a certain intrinsic quality they themselves
have, the latter because they are productive of a certain result
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happens at the right time: for what happens at the right time is
called good. Often it signifies what is of certain quantity, e.g. as
applied to the proper amount: for the proper amount too is
called good. So then the term good is ambiguous. In the same
way also clear, as applied to a body, signifies a colour, but in
regard to a note it denotes what is easy to hear. Sharp, too, is
in a closely similar case: for the same term does not bear the
same meaning in all its applications: for a sharp note is a swift
note, as the mathematical theorists of harmony tell us, whereas
a sharp (acute) angle is one that is less than a right angle, while
a sharp dagger is one containing a sharp angle (point).
Look also at the genera of the objects denoted by the same
term, and see if they are different without being subaltern, as
(e.g.) donkey, which denotes both the animal and the engine.
For the definition of them that corresponds to the name is
different: for the one will be declared to be an animal of a
certain kind, and the other to be an engine of a certain kind. If,
however, the genera be subaltern, there is no necessity for the
definitions to be different. Thus (e.g.) animal is the genus of
raven, and so is bird. Whenever therefore we say that the
raven is a bird, we also say that it is a certain kind of animal, so
that both the genera are predicated of it. Likewise also
whenever we call the raven a flying biped animal, we declare it
to be a bird: in this way, then, as well, both the genera are
predicated of raven, and also their definition. But in the case of
genera that are not subaltern this does not happen, for
whenever we call a thing an engine, we do not call it an
animal, nor vice versa.
Look also and see not only if the genera of the term before you
are different without being subaltern, but also in the case of its
contrary: for if its contrary bears several senses, clearly the term
before you does so as well.
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It is useful also to look at the definition that arises from the use
of the term in combination, e.g. of a clear (lit. white) body of a
clear note. For then if what is peculiar in each case be
abstracted, the same expression ought to remain over. This does
not happen in the case of ambiguous terms, e.g. in the cases
just mentioned. For the former will be body possessing such
and such a colour, while the latter will be a note easy to hear.
Abstract, then, a body and a note, and the remainder in each
case is not the same. It should, however, have been had the
meaning of clear in each case been synonymous.
Often in the actual definitions as well ambiguity creeps in
unawares, and for this reason the definitions also should be
examined. If (e.g.) any one describes what betokens and what
produces health as related commensurably to health, we must
not desist but go on to examine in what sense he has used the
term commensurably in each case, e.g. if in the latter case it
means that it is of the right amount to produce health,
whereas in the for it means that it is such as to betoken what
kind of state prevails.
Moreover, see if the terms cannot be compared as more or less
or as in like manner, as is the case (e.g.) with a clear (lit.
white) sound and a clear garment, and a sharp flavour and a
sharp note. For neither are these things said to be clear or
sharp in a like degree, nor yet is the one said to be clearer or
sharper than the other. Clear, then, and sharp are ambiguous.
For synonyms are always comparable; for they will always be
used either in like manner, or else in a greater degree in one
case.
Now since of genera that are different without being subaltern
the differentiae also are different in kind, e.g. those of animal
and knowledge (for the differentiae of these are different), look
and see if the meanings comprised under the same term are
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16
The presence, then, of a number of meanings in a term may be
investigated by these and like means. The differences which
things present to each other should be examined within the
same genera, e.g. Wherein does justice differ from courage, and
wisdom from temperance? for all these belong to the same
genus; and also from one genus to another, provided they be not
very much too far apart, e.g. Wherein does sensation differ
from knowledge?: for in the case of genera that are very far
apart, the differences are entirely obvious.
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17
Likeness should be studied, first, in the case of things belonging
to different genera, the formulae being A:B = C:D (e.g. as
knowledge stands to the object of knowledge, so is sensation
related to the object of sensation), and As A is in B, so is C in D
(e.g. as sight is in the eye, so is reason in the soul, and as is a
calm in the sea, so is windlessness in the air). Practice is more
especially needed in regard to terms that are far apart; for in the
case of the rest, we shall be more easily able to see in one
glance the points of likeness. We should also look at things
which belong to the same genus, to see if any identical attribute
belongs to them all, e.g. to a man and a horse and a dog; for in
so far as they have any identical attribute, in so far they are
alike.
18
It is useful to have examined the number of meanings of a term
both for clearness sake (for a man is more likely to know what
it is he asserts, if it bas been made clear to him how many
meanings it may have), and also with a view to ensuring that
our reasonings shall be in accordance with the actual facts and
not addressed merely to the term used. For as long as it is not
clear in how many senses a term is used, it is possible that the
answerer and the questioner are not directing their minds upon
the same thing: whereas when once it has been made clear how
many meanings there are, and also upon which of them the
former directs his mind when he makes his assertion, the
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Book II
1
Of problems some are universal, others particular. Universal
problems are such as Every pleasure is good and No pleasure
is good; particular problems are such as Some pleasure is good
and Some pleasure is not good. The methods of establishing
and overthrowing a view universally are common to both kinds
of problems; for when we have shown that a predicate belongs
in every case, we shall also have shown that it belongs in some
cases. Likewise, also, if we show that it does not belong in any
case, we shall also have shown that it does not belong in every
case. First, then, we must speak of the methods of overthrowing
a view universally, because such are common to both universal
and particular problems, and because people more usually
introduce theses asserting a predicate than denying it, while
those who argue with them overthrow it. The conversion of an
appropriate name which is drawn from the element accident is
an extremely precarious thing; for in the case of accidents and
in no other it is possible for something to be true conditionally
and not universally. Names drawn from the elements
definition and property and genus are bound to be
convertible; e.g. if to be an animal that walks on two feet is an
attribute of S, then it will be true by conversion to say that S is
an animal that walks on two feet. Likewise, also, if drawn from
the genus; for if to be an animal is an attribute of S, then S is
an animal. The same is true also in the case of a property; for if
to be capable of learning grammar is an attribute of S, then S
will be capable of learning grammar. For none of these
attributes can possibly belong or not belong in part; they must
either belong or not belong absolutely. In the case of accidents,
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2
Now one commonplace rule is to look and see if a man has
ascribed as an accident what belongs in some other way. This
mistake is most commonly made in regard to the genera of
things, e.g. if one were to say that white happens (accidit) to be
a colour for being a colour does not happen by accident to
white, but colour is its genus. The assertor may of course define
it so in so many words, saying (e.g.) that Justice happens
(accidit) to be a virtue; but often even without such definition it
is obvious that he has rendered the genus as an accident; e.g.
suppose that one were to say that whiteness is coloured or that
walking is in motion. For a predicate drawn from the genus is
never ascribed to the species in an inflected form, but always
the genera are predicated of their species literally; for the
species take on both the name and the definition of their
genera. A man therefore who says that white is coloured has
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3
Moreover, if a term be used in several senses, and it has been
laid down that it is or that it is not an attribute of S, you should
show your case of one of its several senses, if you cannot show
it of both. This rule is to be observed in cases where the
difference of meaning is undetected; for supposing this to be
obvious, then the other man will object that the point which he
himself questioned has not been discussed, but only the other
point. This commonplace rule is convertible for purposes both
of establishing and of overthrowing a view. For if we want to
establish a statement, we shall show that in one sense the
attribute belongs, if we cannot show it of both senses: whereas
if we are overthrowing a statement, we shall show that in one
sense the attribute does not belong, if we cannot show it of both
senses. Of course, in overthrowing a statement there is no need
to start the discussion by securing any admission, either when
the statement asserts or when it denies the attribute
universally: for if we show that in any case whatever the
attribute does not belong, we shall have demolished the
universal assertion of it, and likewise also if we show that it
belongs in a single case, we shall demolish the universal denial
of it. Whereas in establishing a statement we ought to secure a
preliminary admission that if it belongs in any case whatever, it
belongs universally, supposing this claim to be a plausible one.
For it is not enough to discuss a single instance in order to show
that an attribute belongs universally; e.g. to argue that if the
soul of man be immortal, then every soul is immortal, so that a
previous admission must be secured that if any soul whatever
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4
Moreover, it is well to alter a term into one more familiar, e.g. to
substitute clear for exact in describing a conception, and
being fussy for being busy: for when the expression is made
more familiar, the thesis becomes easier to attack. This
commonplace rule also is available for both purposes alike, both
for establishing and for overthrowing a view.
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5
Moreover, there is the sophistic turn of argument, whereby we
draw our opponent into the kind of statement against which we
shall be well supplied with lines of argument. This process is
sometimes a real necessity, sometimes an apparent necessity,
sometimes neither an apparent nor a real necessity. It is really
necessary whenever the answerer has denied any view that
would be useful in attacking the thesis, and the questioner
thereupon addresses his arguments to the support of this view,
and when moreover the view in question happens to be one of a
kind on which he has a good stock of lines of argument.
Likewise, also, it is really necessary whenever he (the
questioner) first, by an induction made by means of the view
laid down, arrives at a certain statement and then tries to
demolish that statement: for when once this has been
demolished, the view originally laid down is demolished as well.
It is an apparent necessity, when the point to which the
discussion comes to be directed appears to be useful, and
relevant to the thesis, without being really so; whether it be that
the man who is standing up to the argument has refused to
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6
In regard to subjects which must have one and one only of two
predicates, as (e.g.) a man must have either a disease or health,
supposing we are well supplied as regards the one for arguing
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7
Inasmuch as contraries can be conjoined with each other in six
ways, and four of these conjunctions constitute a contrariety,
we must grasp the subject of contraries, in order that it may
help us both in demolishing and in establishing a view. Well
then, that the modes of conjunction are six is clear: for either (1)
each of the contrary verbs will be conjoined to each of the
contrary objects; and this gives two modes: e.g. to do good to
friends and to do evil to enemies, or per contra to do evil to
friends and to do good to enemies. Or else (2) both verbs may be
attached to one object; and this too gives two modes, e.g. to do
good to friends and to do evil to friends, or to do good to
enemies and to do evil to enemies. Or (3) a single verb may be
attached to both objects: and this also gives two modes; e.g. to
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8
Seeing that the modes of opposition are four in number, you
should look for arguments among the contradictories of your
terms, converting the order of their sequence, both when
demolishing and when establishing a view, and you should
secure them by means of induction such arguments (e.g.) as
that man be an animal, what is not an animal is not a man:
and likewise also in other instances of contradictories. For in
those cases the sequence is converse: for animal follows upon
man but not-animal does not follow upon not-man, but
conversely not-man upon not-animal. In all cases, therefore, a
postulate of this sort should be made, (e.g.) that If the
honourable is pleasant, what is not pleasant is not honourable,
while if the latter be untrue, so is the former. Likewise, also, If
what is not pleasant be not honourable, then what is
honourable is pleasant. Clearly, then, the conversion of the
sequence formed by contradiction of the terms of the thesis is a
method convertible for both purposes.
Then look also at the case of the contraries of S and P in the
thesis, and see if the contrary of the one follows upon the
contrary of the other, either directly or conversely, both when
you are demolishing and when you are establishing a view:
secure arguments of this kind as well by means of induction, so
far as may be required. Now the sequence is direct in a case
such as that of courage and cowardice: for upon the one of
them virtue follows, and vice upon the other; and upon the one
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9
Again look at the case of the co-ordinates and inflected forms of
the terms in the thesis, both in demolishing and in establishing
it. By co-ordinates are meant terms such as the following: Just
deeds and the just man are coordinates of justice, and
courageous deeds and the courageous man are co-ordinates
of courage. Likewise also things that tend to produce and to
preserve anything are called co-ordinates of that which they
tend to produce and to preserve, as e.g. healthy habits are coordinates of health and a vigorous constitutional of a
vigorous constitution and so forth also in other cases. Coordinate, then, usually describes cases such as these, whereas
inflected forms are such as the following: justly,
courageously, healthily, and such as are formed in this way. It
is usually held that words when used in their inflected forms as
well are co-ordinates, as (e.g.) justly in relation to justice, and
courageously to courage; and then co-ordinate describes all
the members of the same kindred series, e.g. justice, just, of a
man or an act, justly. Clearly, then, when any one member,
whatever its kind, of the same kindred series is shown to be
good or praiseworthy, then all the rest as well come to be shown
to be so: e.g. if justice be something praiseworthy, then so will
just, of a man or thing, and justly connote something
praiseworthy. Then justly will be rendered also praiseworthily,
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10
Again, look at things which are like the subject in question, and
see if they are in like case; e.g. if one branch of knowledge has
more than one object, so also will one opinion; and if to possess
sight be to see, then also to possess hearing will be to hear.
Likewise also in the case of other things, both those which are
and those which are generally held to be like. The rule in
question is useful for both purposes; for if it be as stated in the
case of some one like thing, it is so with the other like things as
well, whereas if it be not so in the case of some one of them,
neither is it so in the case of the others. Look and see also
whether the cases are alike as regards a single thing and a
number of things: for sometimes there is a discrepancy. Thus, if
to know a thing be to think of it, then also to know many
things is to be thinking of many things; whereas this is not
true; for it is possible to know many things but not to be
thinking of them. If, then, the latter proposition be not true,
neither was the former that dealt with a single thing, viz. that to
know a thing is to think of it.
Moreover, argue from greater and less degrees. In regard to
greater degrees there are four commonplace rules. One is: See
whether a greater degree of the predicate follows a greater
degree of the subject: e.g. if pleasure be good, see whether also a
greater pleasure be a greater good: and if to do a wrong be evil,
see whether also to do a greater wrong is a greater evil. Now
this rule is of use for both purposes: for if an increase of the
accident follows an increase of the subject, as we have said,
clearly the accident belongs; while if it does not follow, the
accident does not belong. You should establish this by
induction. Another rule is: If one predicate be attributed to two
subjects; then supposing it does not belong to the subject to
which it is the more likely to belong, neither does it belong
where it is less likely to belong; while if it does belong where it
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11
You can argue, then, from greater or less or like degrees of truth
in the aforesaid number of ways. Moreover, you should argue
from the addition of one thing to another. If the addition of one
thing to another makes that other good or white, whereas
formerly it was not white or good, then the thing added will be
white or good it will possess the character it imparts to the
whole as well. Moreover, if an addition of something to a given
object intensifies the character which it had as given, then the
thing added will itself as well be of that character. Likewise,
also, in the case of other attributes. The rule is not applicable in
all cases, but only in those in which the excess described as an
increased intensity is found to take place. The above rule is,
however, not convertible for overthrowing a view. For if the
thing added does not make the other good, it is not thereby
made clear whether in itself it may not be good: for the addition
of good to evil does not necessarily make the whole good, any
more than the addition of white to black makes the whole
white.
Again, any predicate of which we can speak of greater or less
degrees belongs also absolutely: for greater or less degrees of
good or of white will not be attributed to what is not good or
white: for a bad thing will never be said to have a greater or less
degree of goodness than another, but always of badness. This
rule is not convertible, either, for the purpose of overthrowing a
predication: for several predicates of which we cannot speak of
a greater degree belong absolutely: for the term man is not
attributed in greater and less degrees, but a man is a man for all
that.
You should examine in the same way predicates attributed in a
given respect, and at a given time and place: for if the predicate
be possible in some respect, it is possible also absolutely.
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Book III
1
The question which is the more desirable, or the better, of two
or more things, should be examined upon the following lines:
only first of all it must be clearly laid down that the inquiry we
are making concerns not things that are widely divergent and
that exhibit great differences from one another (for nobody
raises any doubt whether happiness or wealth is more
desirable), but things that are nearly related and about which
we commonly discuss for which of the two we ought rather to
vote, because we do not see any advantage on either side as
compared with the other. Clearly, in such cases if we can show a
single advantage, or more than one, our judgement will record
our assent that whichever side happens to have the advantage
is the more desirable.
First, then, that which is more lasting or secure is more
desirable than that which is less so: and so is that which is
more likely to be chosen by the prudent or by the good man or
by the right law, or by men who are good in any particular line,
when they make their choice as such, or by the experts in
regard to any particular class of things; i.e. either whatever most
of them or what all of them would choose; e.g. in medicine or in
carpentry those things are more desirable which most, or all,
doctors would choose; or, in general, whatever most men or all
men or all things would choose, e.g. the good: for everything
aims at the good. You should direct the argument you intend to
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2
Moreover, whenever two things are very much like one another,
and we cannot see any superiority in the one over the other of
them, we should look at them from the standpoint of their
consequences. For the one which is followed by the greater good
is the more desirable: or, if the consequences be evil, that is
more desirable which is followed by the less evil. For though
both may be desirable, yet there may possibly be some
unpleasant consequence involved to turn the scale. Our survey
from the point of view of consequences lies in two directions,
for there are prior consequences and later consequences: e.g. if
a man learns, it follows that he was ignorant before and knows
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which all may possess and still we want the other one as well.
Take the case of justice and courage; if everybody were just,
there would be no use for courage, whereas all might be
courageous, and still justice would be of use.
Moreover, judge by the destructions and losses and generations
and acquisitions and contraries of things: for things whose
destruction is more objectionable are themselves more
desirable. Likewise also with the losses and contraries of things;
for a thing whose loss or whose contrary is more objectionable
is itself more desirable. With the generations or acquisitions of
things the opposite is the case: for things whose acquisition or
generation is more desirable are themselves also desirable.
Another commonplace rule is that what is nearer to the good is
better and more desirable, i.e. what more nearly resembles the
good: thus justice is better than a just man. Also, that which is
more like than another thing to something better than itself, as
e.g. some say that Ajax was a better man than Odysseus
because he was more like Achilles. An objection may be raised
to this that it is not true: for it is quite possible that Ajax did not
resemble Achilles more nearly than Odysseus in the points
which made Achilles the best of them, and that Odysseus was a
good man, though unlike Achilles. Look also to see whether the
resemblance be that of a caricature, like the resemblance of a
monkey to a man, whereas a horse bears none: for the monkey
is not the more handsome creature, despite its nearer
resemblance to a man. Again, in the case of two things, if one is
more like the better thing while another is more like the worse,
then that is likely to be better which is more like the better. This
too, however, admits of an objection: for quite possibly the one
only slightly resembles the better, while the other strongly
resembles the worse, e.g. supposing the resemblance of Ajax to
Achilles to be slight, while that of Odysseus to Nestor is strong.
Also it may be that the one which is like the better type shows a
degrading likeness, whereas the one which is like the worse
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3
Moreover, of things that belong to the same species one which
possesses the peculiar virtue of the species is more desirable
than one which does not. If both possess it, then the one which
possesses it in a greater degree is more desirable.
Moreover, if one thing makes good whatever it touches, while
another does not, the former is more desirable, just as also what
makes things warm is warmer than what does not. If both do
so, then that one is more desirable which does so in a greater
degree, or if it render good the better and more important object
if (e.g.), the one makes good the soul, and the other the body.
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Also, if one thing be desirable for itself, and the other for the
look of it, the former is more desirable, as (e.g.) health than
beauty. A thing is defined as being desired for the look of it if,
supposing no one knew of it, you would not care to have it. Also,
it is more desirable both for itself and for the look of it, while
the other thing is desirable on the one ground alone. Also,
whichever is the more precious for itself, is also better and more
desirable. A thing may be taken to be more precious in itself
which we choose rather for itself, without anything else being
likely to come of it.
Moreover, you should distinguish in how many senses
desirable is used, and with a view to what ends, e.g.
expediency or honour or pleasure. For what is useful for all or
most of them may be taken to be more desirable than what is
not useful in like manner. If the same characters belong to both
things you should look and see which possesses them more
markedly, i.e. which of the two is the more pleasant or more
honourable or more expedient. Again, that is more desirable
which serves the better purpose, e.g. that which serves to
promote virtue more than that which serves to promote
pleasure. Likewise also in the case of objectionable things; for
that is more objectionable which stands more in the way of
what is desirable, e.g. disease more than ugliness: for disease is
a greater hindrance both to pleasure and to being good.
Moreover, argue by showing that the thing in question is in like
measure objectionable and desirable: for a thing of such a
character that a man might well desire and object to it alike is
less desirable than the other which is desirable only.
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4
Comparisons of things together should therefore be conducted
in the manner prescribed. The same commonplace rules are
useful also for showing that anything is simply desirable or
objectionable: for we have only to subtract the excess of one
thing over another. For if what is more precious be more
desirable, then also what is precious is desirable; and if what is
more useful be more desirable, then also what is useful is
desirable. Likewise, also, in the case of other things which admit
of comparisons of that kind. For in some cases in the very
course of comparing the things together we at once assert also
that each of them, or the one of them, is desirable, e.g.
whenever we call the one good by nature and the other not by
nature: for dearly what is good by nature is desirable.
5
The commonplace rules relating to comparative degrees and
amounts ought to be taken in the most general possible form:
for when so taken they are likely to be useful in a larger number
of instances. It is possible to render some of the actual rules
given above more universal by a slight alteration of the
expression, e.g. that what by nature exhibits such and such a
quality exhibits that quality in a greater degree than what
exhibits it not by nature. Also, if one thing does, and another
does not, impart such and such a quality to that which
possesses it, or to which it belongs, then whichever does impart
it is of that quality in greater degree than the one which does
not impart it; and if both impart it, then that one exhibits it in a
greater degree which imparts it in a greater degree.
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6
If the question be put in a particular and not in a universal
form, in the first place the universal constructive or destructive
commonplace rules that have been given may all be brought
into use. For in demolishing or establishing a thing universally
we also show it in particular: for if it be true of all, it is true also
of some, and if untrue of all, it is untrue of some. Especially
handy and of general application are the commonplace rules
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you may take it that pleasure is not good either. Also, you
should judge by a smaller or like degree in the same way: for so
you will find it possible both to demolish and to establish a
view, except that whereas both are possible by means of like
degrees, by means of a smaller degree it is possible only to
establish, not to overthrow. For if a certain form of capacity be
good in a like degree to knowledge, and a certain form of
capacity be good, then so also is knowledge; while if no form of
capacity be good, then neither is knowledge. If, too, a certain
form of capacity be good in a less degree than knowledge, and a
certain form of capacity be good, then so also is knowledge; but
if no form of capacity be good, there is no necessity that no
form of knowledge either should be good. Clearly, then, it is only
possible to establish a view by means of a less degree.
Not only by means of another genus can you overthrow a view,
but also by means of the same, if you take the most marked
instance of the character in question; e.g. if it be maintained
that some form of knowledge is good, then, suppose it to be
shown that prudence is not good, neither will any other kind be
good, seeing that not even the kind upon which there is most
general agreement is so. Moreover, you should go to work by
means of an hypothesis; you should claim that the attribute, if it
belongs or does not belong in one case, does so in a like degree
in all, e.g. that if the soul of man be immortal, so are other souls
as well, while if this one be not so, neither are the others. If,
then, it be maintained that in some instance the attribute
belongs, you must show that in some instance it does not
belong: for then it will follow, by reason of the hypothesis, that
it does not belong to any instance at all. If, on the other hand, it
be maintained that it does not belong in some instance, you
must show that it does belong in some instance, for in this way
it will follow that it belongs to all instances. It is clear that the
maker of the hypothesis universalizes the question, whereas it
was stated in a particular form: for he claims that the maker of
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Book IV
391
1
Next we must go on to examine questions relating to Genus and
Property. These are elements in the questions that relate to
definitions, but dialecticians seldom address their inquiries to
these by themselves. If, then, a genus be suggested for
something that is, first take a look at all objects which belong to
the same genus as the thing mentioned, and see whether the
genus suggested is not predicated of one of them, as happens in
the case of an accident: e.g. if good be laid down to be the
genus of pleasure, see whether some particular pleasure be not
good: for, if so, clearly good is not the genus of pleasure: for the
genus is predicated of all the members of the same species.
Secondly, see whether it be predicated not in the category of
essence, but as an accident, as white is predicated of snow, or
self-moved of the soul. For snow is not a kind of white, and
therefore white is not the genus of snow, nor is the soul a kind
of moving object: its motion is an accident of it, as it often is of
an animal to walk or to be walking. Moreover, moving does not
seem to indicate the essence, but rather a state of doing or of
having something done to it. Likewise, also, white: for it
indicates not the essence of snow, but a certain quality of it. So
that neither of them is predicated in the category of essence.
Especially you should take a look at the definition of Accident,
and see whether it fits the genus mentioned, as (e.g.) is also the
case in the instances just given. For it is possible for a thing to
be and not to be self-moved, and likewise, also, for it to be and
not to be white. So that neither of these attributes is the genus
but an accident, since we were saying that an accident is an
attribute which can belong to a thing and also not belong.
Moreover, see whether the genus and the species be not found
in the same division, but the one be a substance while the other
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wider denotation than the species and its differentia: for the
differentia as well has a narrower denotation than the genus.
See also whether the genus mentioned fails, or might be
generally thought to fail, to apply to some object which is not
specifically different from the thing in question; or, if your
argument be constructive, whether it does so apply. For all
things that are not specifically different have the same genus. If,
therefore, it be shown to apply to one, then clearly it applies to
all, and if it fails to apply to one, clearly it fails to apply to any;
e.g. if any one who assumes indivisible lines were to say that
the indivisible is their genus. For the aforesaid term is not the
genus of divisible lines, and these do not differ as regards their
species from indivisible: for straight lines are never different
from each other as regards their species.
2
Look and see, also, if there be any other genus of the given
species which neither embraces the genus rendered nor yet
falls under it, e.g. suppose any one were to lay down that
knowledge is the genus of justice. For virtue is its genus as
well, and neither of these genera embraces the remaining one,
so that knowledge could not be the genus of justice: for it is
generally accepted that whenever one species falls under two
genera, the one is embraced by the other. Yet a principle of this
kind gives rise to a difficulty in some cases. For some people
hold that prudence is both virtue and knowledge, and that
neither of its genera is embraced by the other: although
certainly not everybody admits that prudence is knowledge. If,
however, any one were to admit the truth of this assertion, yet it
would still be generally agreed to be necessary that the genera
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3
Look and see, also, if what is placed in the genus partakes or
could possibly partake of any contrary of the genus: for in that
case the same thing will at the same time partake of contrary
things, seeing that the genus is never absent from it, while it
partakes, or can possibly partake, of the contrary genus as well.
Moreover, see whether the species shares in any character
which it is utterly impossible for any member of the genus to
have. Thus (e.g.) if the soul has a share in life, while it is
impossible for any number to live, then the soul could not be a
species of number.
You should look and see, also, if the species be a homonym of
the genus, and employ as your elementary principles those
already stated for dealing with homonymity: for the genus and
the species are synonymous.
Seeing that of every genus there is more than one species, look
and see if it be impossible that there should be another species
than the given one belonging to the genus stated: for if there
should be none, then clearly what has been stated could not be
a genus at all.
Look and see, also, if he has rendered as genus a metaphorical
expression, describing (e.g. temperance as a harmony: a
harmony: for a genus is always predicated of its species in its
literal sense, whereas harmony is predicated of temperance
not in a literal sense but metaphorically: for a harmony always
consists in notes.
Moreover, if there be any contrary of the species, examine it.
The examination may take different forms; first of all see if the
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4
Again, consider the case of things that bear a like relation to
one another. Thus (e.g.) the relation of the pleasant to pleasure
is like that of the useful to the good: for in each case the one
produces the other. If therefore pleasure be a kind of good,
then also the pleasant will be a kind of useful: for clearly it
may be taken to be productive of good, seeing that pleasure is
good. In the same way also consider the case of processes of
generation and destruction; if (e.g.) to build be to be active, then
to have built is to have been active, and if to learn be to
recollect, then also to have learnt is to have recollected, and if to
be decomposed be to be destroyed, then to have been
decomposed is to have been destroyed, and decomposition is a
kind of destruction. Consider also in the same way the case of
things that generate or destroy, and of the capacities and uses
of things; and in general, both in demolishing and in
establishing an argument, you should examine things in the
light of any resemblance of whatever description, as we were
saying in the case of generation and destruction. For if what
tends to destroy tends to decompose, then also to be destroyed
is to be decomposed: and if what tends to generate tends to
produce, then to be generated is to be produced, and generation
is production. Likewise, also, in the case of the capacities and
uses of things: for if a capacity be a disposition, then also to be
capable of something is to be disposed to it, and if the use of
anything be an activity, then to use it is to be active, and to have
used it is to have been active.
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405
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407
5
Again, see if he has placed what is a state inside the genus
activity, or an activity inside the genus state, e.g. by defining
sensation as movement communicated through the body: for
sensation is a state, whereas movement is an activity.
Likewise, also, if he has said that memory is a state that is
retentive of a conception, for memory is never a state, but
rather an activity.
They also make a bad mistake who rank a state within the
capacity that attends it, e.g. by defining good temper as the
control of anger, and courage and justice as control of fears
and of gains: for the terms courageous and good-tempered
are applied to a man who is immune from passion, whereas
self-controlled describes the man who is exposed to passion
and not led by it. Quite possibly, indeed, each of the former is
attended by a capacity such that, if he were exposed to passion,
he would control it and not be led by it: but, for all that, this is
not what is meant by being courageous in the one case, and
good tempered in the other; what is meant is an absolute
immunity from any passions of that kind at all.
Sometimes, also, people state any kind of attendant feature as
the genus, e.g. pain as the genus of anger and conception as
that of conviction. For both of the things in question follow in a
certain sense upon the given species, but neither of them is
genus to it. For when the angry man feels pain, the pain bas
appeared in him earlier than the anger: for his anger is not the
cause of his pain, but his pain of his anger, so that anger
emphatically is not pain. By the same reasoning, neither is
conviction conception: for it is possible to have the same
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6
Moreover, see whether the term rendered fail to be the genus of
anything at all; for then clearly it also fails to be the genus of
the species mentioned. Examine the point by seeing whether
the objects that partake of the genus fail to be specifically
different from one another, e.g. white objects: for these do not
differ specifically from one another, whereas of a genus the
species are always different, so that white could not be the
genus of anything.
Again, see whether he has named as genus or differentia some
feature that goes with everything: for the number of attributes
that follow everything is comparatively large: thus (e.g.) Being
and Unity are among the number of attributes that follow
everything. If, therefore, he has rendered Being as a genus,
clearly it would be the genus of everything, seeing that it is
predicated of everything; for the genus is never predicated of
anything except of its species. Hence Unity, inter alia, will be a
species of Being. The result, therefore, is that of all things of
which the genus is predicated, the species is predicated as well,
seeing that Being and Unity are predicates of absolutely
everything, whereas the predication of the species ought to be
of narrower range. If, on the other hand, he has named as
differentia some attribute that follows everything, clearly the
denotation of the differentia will be equal to, or wider than, that
of the genus. For if the genus, too, be some attribute that follows
everything, the denotation of the differentia will be equal to its
denotation, while if the genus do not follow everything, it will
be still wider.
Moreover, see if the description inherent in S be used of the
genus rendered in relation to its species, as it is used of white
in the case of snow, thus showing clearly that it could not be the
genus: for true of S is the only description used of the genus in
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relation to its species. Look and see also if the genus fails to be
synonymous with its species. For the genus is always predicated
of its species synonymously.
Moreover, beware, whenever both species and genus have a
contrary, and he places the better of the contraries inside the
worse genus: for the result will be that the remaining species
will be found in the remaining genus, seeing that contraries are
found in contrary genera, so that the better species will be
found in the worse genus and the worse in the better: whereas
the usual view is that of the better species the genus too is
better. Also see if he has placed the species inside the worse
and not inside the better genus, when it is at the same time
related in like manner to both, as (e.g.) if he has defined the
soul as a form of motion or a form of moving thing. For the
same soul is usually thought to be a principle alike of rest and
of motion, so that, if rest is the better of the two, this is the
genus into which the soul should have been put.
Moreover, judge by means of greater and less degrees: if
overthrowing a view, see whether the genus admits of a greater
degree, whereas neither the species itself does so, nor any term
that is called after it: e.g. if virtue admits of a greater degree, so
too does justice and the just man: for one man is called more
just than another. If, therefore, the genus rendered admits of a
greater degree, whereas neither the species does so itself nor
yet any term called after it, then what has been rendered could
not be the genus.
Again, if what is more generally, or as generally, thought to be
the genus be not so, clearly neither is the genus rendered. The
commonplace rule in question is useful especially in cases
where the species appears to have several predicates in the
category of essence, and where no distinction has been drawn
between them, and we cannot say which of them is genus; e.g.
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416
Book V
1
The question whether the attribute stated is or is not a property,
should be examined by the following methods:
Any property rendered is always either essential and
permanent or relative and temporary: e.g. it is an essential
property of man to be by nature a civilized animal: a relative
property is one like that of the soul in relation to the body, viz.
that the one is fitted to command, and the other to obey: a
permanent property is one like the property which belongs to
God, of being an immortal living being: a temporary property
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2
First, see whether the property has or has not been rendered
correctly. Of a rendering being incorrect or correct, one test is to
see whether the terms in which the property is stated are not or
are more intelligible for destructive purposes, whether they
are not so, and for constructive purposes, whether they are so.
Of the terms not being more intelligible, one test is to see
whether the property which he renders is altogether more
unintelligible than the subject whose property he has stated:
for, if so, the property will not have been stated correctly. For the
object of getting a property constituted is to be intelligible: the
terms therefore in which it is rendered should be more
intelligible: for in that case it will be possible to conceive it more
adequately, e.g. any one who has stated that it is a property of
fire to bear a very close resemblance to the soul, uses the
term soul, which is less intelligible than fire for we know
better what fire is than what soul is , and therefore a very
close resemblance to the soul could not be correctly stated to
be a property of fire. Another test is to see whether the
attribution of A (property) to B (subject) fails to be more
intelligible. For not only should the property be more intelligible
than its subject, but also it should be something whose
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Next, for destructive purposes, see whether the same term has
been repeated in the property. For people often do this
undetected in rendering properties also, just as they do in their
definitions as well: but a property to which this has happened
will not have been correctly stated: for the repetition of it
confuses the hearer; thus inevitably the meaning becomes
obscure, and further, such people are thought to babble.
Repetition of the same term is likely to happen in two ways; one
is, when a man repeatedly uses the same word, as would
happen if any one were to render, as a property of fire, the body
which is the most rarefied of bodies (for he has repeated the
word body); the second is, if a man replaces words by their
definitions, as would happen if any one were to render, as a
property of earth, the substance which is by its nature most
easily of all bodies borne downwards in space, and were then to
substitute substances of such and such a kind for the word
bodies: for body and a substance of such and such a kind
mean one and the same thing. For he will have repeated the
word substance, and accordingly neither of the properties
would be correctly stated. For constructive purposes, on the
other hand, see whether he avoids ever repeating the same
term; for then the property will in this respect have been
correctly rendered. Thus (e.g.) seeing that he who has stated
animal capable of acquiring knowledge as a property of man
has avoided repeating the same term several times, the
property would in this respect have been correctly rendered of
man.
Next, for destructive purposes, see whether he has rendered in
the property any such term as is a universal attribute. For one
which does not distinguish its subject from other things is
useless, and it is the business of the language Of properties, as
also of the language of definitions, to distinguish. In the case
contemplated, therefore, the property will not have been
correctly rendered. Thus (e.g.) a man who has stated that it is a
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3
Next, for destructive purposes, see whether he has employed
either the actual subject whose property he is rendering, or any
of its species: for then the property will not have been correctly
stated. For the object of rendering the property is that people
may understand: now the subject itself is just as unintelligible
as it was to start with, while any one of its species is posterior
to it, and so is no more intelligible. Accordingly it is impossible
to understand anything further by the use of these terms. Thus
(e.g.) any one who has said that it is property of animal to be
the substance to which man belongs as a species has
employed one of its species, and therefore the property could
not have been correctly stated. For constructive purposes, on
the other hand, see whether he avoids introducing either the
subject itself or any of its species: for then the property will in
this respect have been correctly stated. Thus (e.g.) a man who
has stated that it is a property of a living creature to be
compounded of soul and body has avoided introducing among
the rest either the subject itself or any of its species, and
therefore in this respect the property of a living creature would
have been correctly rendered.
You should inquire in the same way also in the case of other
terms that do or do not make the subject more intelligible: thus,
for destructive purposes, see whether he has employed
anything either opposite to the subject or, in general, anything
simultaneous by nature with it or posterior to it: for then the
property will not have been correctly stated. For an opposite is
simultaneous by nature with its opposite, and what is
simultaneous by nature or is posterior to it does not make its
subject more intelligible. Thus (e.g.) any one who has said that it
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4
The inquiry, then, whether the property has been correctly
rendered or no, should be made by these means. The question,
on the other hand, whether what is stated is or is not a property
at all, you should examine from the following points of view. For
the commonplace arguments which establish absolutely that
the property is accurately stated will be the same as those that
constitute it a property at all: accordingly they will be described
in the course of them.
Firstly, then, for destructive purposes, take a look at each
subject of which he has rendered the property, and see (e.g.) if it
fails to belong to any of them at all, or to be true of them in that
particular respect, or to be a property of each of them in respect
of that character of which he has rendered the property: for
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5
Next, for destructive purposes, see if, while intending to render
an attribute that naturally belongs, he states it in his language
in such a way as to indicate one that invariably belongs: for
then it would be generally agreed that what has been stated to
be a property is upset. Thus (e.g.) the man who has said that
biped is a property of man intends to render the attribute that
naturally belongs, but his expression actually indicates one that
invariably belongs: accordingly, biped could not be a property
of man: for not every man is possessed of two feet. For
constructive purposes, on the other hand, see if he intends to
render the property that naturally belongs, and indicates it in
that way in his language: for then the property will not be upset
in this respect. Thus (e.g.) he who renders as a property of man
the phrase an animal capable of receiving knowledge both
intends, and by his language indicates, the property that
belongs by nature, and so an animal capable of receiving
knowledge would not be upset or shown in that respect not to
be a property of man.
Moreover, as regards all the things that are called as they are
primarily after something else, or primarily in themselves, it is a
job to render the property of such things. For if you render a
property as belonging to the subject that is so called after
something else, then it will be true of its primary subject as
well; whereas if you state it of its primary subject, then it will be
predicated also of the thing that is so called after this other.
Thus (e.g.) if any one renders , coloured as the property of
surface, coloured will be true of body as well; whereas if he
render it of body, it will be predicated also of surface. Hence
the name as well will not be true of that of which the
description is true.
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things that consist of like parts a man may have his eye on the
whole, while sometimes he may address himself to what is
predicated of the part: and then in neither case will it have been
rightly rendered. Take an instance referring to the whole: the
man who has said that it is a property of the sea to be the
largest volume of salt water, has stated the property of
something that consists of like parts, but has rendered an
attribute of such a kind as is not true of the part (for a particular
sea is not the largest volume of salt water); and so the largest
volume of salt water could not be a property of the sea. Now
take one referring to the part: the man who has stated that it is
a property of air to be breathable has stated the property of
something that consists of like parts, but he has stated an
attribute such as, though true of some air, is still not predicable
of the whole (for the whole of the air is not breathable); and so
breathable could not be a property of air. For constructive
purposes, on the other hand, see whether, while it is true of
each of the things with similar parts, it is on the other hand a
property of them taken as a collective whole: for then what has
been stated not to be a property will be a property. Thus (e.g.)
while it is true of earth everywhere that it naturally falls
downwards, it is a property of the various particular pieces of
earth taken as the Earth, so that it would be a property of
earth naturally to fall downwards.
6
Next, look from the point of view of the respective opposites,
and first (a) from that of the contraries, and see, for destructive
purposes, if the contrary of the term rendered fails to be a
property of the contrary subject. For then neither will the
contrary of the first be a property of the contrary of the second.
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442
7
Next, look from the point of view of things that are in a like
relation, and see, for destructive purposes, if what is in a
relation like that of the property rendered fails to be a property
of what is in a relation like that of the subject: for then neither
will what is in a relation like that of the first be a property of
what is in a relation like that of the second. Thus (e.g.)
inasmuch as the relation of the builder towards the production
of a house is like that of the doctor towards the production of
health, and it is not a property of a doctor to produce health, it
could not be a property of a builder to produce a house. For
constructive purposes, on the other hand, see if what is in a
relation like that of the property rendered is a property of what
is in a relation like that of the subject: for then also what is in a
relation like that of the first will be a property of what is in a
relation like that of the second. Thus (e.g.) inasmuch as the
relation of a doctor towards the possession of ability to produce
health is like that of a trainer towards the possession of ability
to produce vigour, and it is a property of a trainer to possess the
ability to produce vigour, it would be a property of a doctor to
possess the ability to produce health.
Next look from the point of view of things that are identically
related, and see, for destructive purposes, if the predicate that is
identically related towards two subjects fails to be a property of
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8
Next look from the point of view of greater and less degrees,
and first (a) for destructive purposes, see if what is more-P fails
to be a property of what is more-S: for then neither will what is
less-P be a property of what is less-S, nor least-P of least-S, nor
most-P of most-S, nor P simply of S simply. Thus (e.g.) inasmuch
as being more highly coloured is not a property of what is more
a body, neither could being less highly coloured be a property of
what is less a body, nor being coloured be a property of body at
all. For constructive purposes, on the other hand, see if what is
more-P is a property of what is more-S: for then also what is
less-P will be a property of what is less S, and least-P of least-S,
and most-P of most-S, and P simply of S simply. Thus (e.g.)
inasmuch as a higher degree of sensation is a property of a
higher degree of life, a lower degree of sensation also would be a
property of a lower degree of life, and the highest of the highest
and the lowest of the lowest degree, and sensation simply of life
simply.
Also you should look at the argument from a simple predication
to the same qualified types of predication, and see, for
destructive purposes, if P simply fails to be a property of S
simply; for then neither will more-P be a property of more-S,
nor less-P of less-S, nor most-P of most-S, nor least-P of least-S.
Thus (e.g.) inasmuch as virtuous is not a property of man,
neither could more virtuous be a property of what is more
human. For constructive purposes, on the other hand, see if P
simply is a property of S simply: for then more P also will be a
property of more-S, and less-P of less-S, and least-P of least-S,
and most-P of most-S. Thus (e.g.) a tendency to move upwards
by nature is a property of fire, and so also a greater tendency to
move upwards by nature would be a property of what is more
fiery. In the same way too one should look at all these matters
from the point of view of the others as well.
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Book VI
1
The discussion of Definitions falls into five parts. For you have
to show either (1) that it is not true at all to apply the expression
as well to that to which the term is applied (for the definition of
Man ought to be true of every man); or (2) that though the object
has a genus, he has failed to put the object defined into the
genus, or to put it into the appropriate genus (for the framer of a
definition should first place the object in its genus, and then
append its differences: for of all the elements of the definition
the genus is usually supposed to be the principal mark of the
essence of what is defined): or (3) that the expression is not
peculiar to the object (for, as we said above as well, a definition
ought to be peculiar): or else (4) see if, though he has observed
all the aforesaid cautions, he has yet failed to define the object,
that is, to express its essence. (5) It remains, apart from the
foregoing, to see if he has defined it, but defined it incorrectly.
Whether, then, the expression be not also true of that of which
the term is true you should proceed to examine according to the
commonplace rules that relate to Accident. For there too the
question is always Is so and so true or untrue?: for whenever
we argue that an accident belongs, we declare it to be true,
while whenever we argue that it does not belong, we declare it
to be untrue. If, again, he has failed to place the object in the
appropriate genus, or if the expression be not peculiar to the
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2
One commonplace rule, then, in regard to obscurity is, See if the
meaning intended by the definition involves an ambiguity with
any other, e.g. Becoming is a passage into being, or Health is
the balance of hot and cold elements. Here passage and
balance are ambiguous terms: it is accordingly not clear which
of the several possible senses of the term he intends to convey.
Likewise also, if the term defined be used in different senses
and he has spoken without distinguishing between them: for
then it is not clear to which of them the definition rendered
applies, and one can then bring a captious objection on the
ground that the definition does not apply to all the things
whose definition he has rendered: and this kind of thing is
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particularly easy in the case where the definer does not see the
ambiguity of his terms. Or, again, the questioner may himself
distinguish the various senses of the term rendered in the
definition, and then institute his argument against each: for if
the expression used be not adequate to the subject in any of its
senses, it is clear that he cannot have defined it in any sense
aright.
Another rule is, See if he has used a metaphorical expression,
as, for instance, if he has defined knowledge as
unsupplantable, or the earth as a nurse, or temperance as a
harmony. For a metaphorical expression is always obscure. It is
possible, also, to argue sophistically against the user of a
metaphorical expression as though he had used it in its literal
sense: for the definition stated will not apply to the term
defined, e.g. in the case of temperance: for harmony is always
found between notes. Moreover, if harmony be the genus of
temperance, then the same object will occur in two genera of
which neither contains the other: for harmony does not contain
virtue, nor virtue harmony. Again, see if he uses terms that are
unfamiliar, as when Plato describes the eye as brow-shaded, or
a certain spider as poison-fanged, or the marrow as
boneformed. For an unusual phrase is always obscure.
Sometimes a phrase is used neither ambiguously, nor yet
metaphorically, nor yet literally, as when the law is said to be
the measure or image of the things that are by nature just.
Such phrases are worse than metaphor; for the latter does make
its meaning to some extent clear because of the likeness
involved; for those who use metaphors do so always in view of
some likeness: whereas this kind of phrase makes nothing
clear; for there is no likeness to justify the description measure
or image, as applied to the law, nor is the law ordinarily so
called in a literal sense. So then, if a man says that the law is
literally a measure or an image, he speaks falsely: for an
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3
If, then, the definition be not clear, you should proceed to
examine on lines such as these. If, on the other hand, he has
phrased the definition redundantly, first of all look and see
whether he has used any attribute that belongs universally,
either to real objects in general, or to all that fall under the
same genus as the object defined: for the mention of this is sure
to be redundant. For the genus ought to divide the object from
things in general, and the differentia from any of the things
contained in the same genus. Now any term that belongs to
everything separates off the given object from absolutely
nothing, while any that belongs to all the things that fall under
the same genus does not separate it off from the things
contained in the same genus. Any addition, then, of that kind
will be pointless.
Or see if, though the additional matter may be peculiar to the
given term, yet even when it is struck out the rest of the
expression too is peculiar and makes clear the essence of the
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4
Whether, then, a man defines a thing correctly or incorrectly
you should proceed to examine on these and similar lines. But
whether he has mentioned and defined its essence or no,
should be examined as follows: First of all, see if he has failed to
make the definition through terms that are prior and more
intelligible. For the reason why the definition is rendered is to
make known the term stated, and we make things known by
taking not any random terms, but such as are prior and more
intelligible, as is done in demonstrations (for so it is with all
teaching and learning); accordingly, it is clear that a man who
does not define through terms of this kind has not defined at
all. Otherwise, there will be more than one definition of the
same thing: for clearly he who defines through terms that are
prior and more intelligible has also framed a definition, and a
better one, so that both would then be definitions of the same
object. This sort of view, however, does not generally find
acceptance: for of each real object the essence is single: if, then,
there are to be a number of definitions of the same thing, the
essence of the object will be the same as it is represented to be
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through its genus and its differentiae, and these belong to the
order of things which are absolutely more intelligible than, and
prior to, the species. For annul the genus and differentia, and
the species too is annulled, so that these are prior to the
species. They are also more intelligible; for if the species be
known, the genus and differentia must of necessity be known
as well (for any one who knows what a man is knows also what
animal and walking are), whereas if the genus or the
differentia be known it does not follow of necessity that the
species is known as well: thus the species is less intelligible.
Moreover, those who say that such definitions, viz. those which
proceed from what is intelligible to this, that, or the other man,
are really and truly definitions, will have to say that there are
several definitions of one and the same thing. For, as it happens,
different things are more intelligible to different people, not the
same things to all; and so a different definition would have to
be rendered to each several person, if the definition is to be
constructed from what is more intelligible to particular
individuals. Moreover, to the same people different things are
more intelligible at different times; first of all the objects of
sense; then, as they become more sharpwitted, the converse; so
that those who hold that a definition ought to be rendered
through what is more intelligible to particular individuals would
not have to render the same definition at all times even to the
same person. It is clear, then, that the right way to define is not
through terms of that kind, but through what is absolutely more
intelligible: for only in this way could the definition come
always to be one and the same. Perhaps, also, what is absolutely
intelligible is what is intelligible, not to all, but to those who are
in a sound state of understanding, just as what is absolutely
healthy is what is healthy to those in a sound state of body. All
such points as this ought to be made very precise, and made
use of in the course of discussion as occasion requires. The
demolition of a definition will most surely win a general
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5
Generally speaking, then, one commonplace rule relates to the
failure to frame the expression by means of terms that are prior
and more intelligible: and of this the subdivisions are those
specified above. A second is, see whether, though the object is in
a genus, it has not been placed in a genus. This sort of error is
always found where the essence of the object does not stand
first in the expression, e.g. the definition of body as that which
has three dimensions, or the definition of man, supposing any
one to give it, as that which knows how to count: for it is not
stated what it is that has three dimensions, or what it is that
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6
Again, in regard to the differentiae, we must examine in like
manner whether the differentiae, too, that he has stated be
those of the genus. For if a man has not defined the object by
the differentiae peculiar to it, or has mentioned something such
as is utterly incapable of being a differentia of anything, e.g.
animal or substance, clearly he has not defined it at all: for
the aforesaid terms do not differentiate anything at all. Further,
we must see whether the differentia stated possesses anything
that is co-ordinate with it in a division; for, if not, clearly the
one stated could not be a differentia of the genus. For a genus is
always divided by differentiae that are co-ordinate members of
a division, as, for instance, by the terms walking, flying,
aquatic, and biped. Or see if, though the contrasted differentia
exists, it yet is not true of the genus, for then, clearly, neither of
them could be a differentia of the genus; for differentiae that
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accidental attribute, any more than the genus is: for the
differentia of a thing cannot both belong and not belong to it.
Moreover, if either the differentia or the species, or any of the
things which are under the species, is predicable of the genus,
then he could not have defined the term. For none of the
aforesaid can possibly be predicated of the genus, seeing that
the genus is the term with the widest range of all. Again, see if
the genus be predicated of the differentia; for the general view
is that the genus is predicated, not of the differentia, but of the
objects of which the differentia is predicated. Animal (e.g.) is
predicated of man or ox or other walking animals, not of the
actual differentia itself which we predicate of the species. For if
animal is to be predicated of each of its differentiae, then
animal would be predicated of the species several times over;
for the differentiae are predicates of the species. Moreover, the
differentiae will be all either species or individuals, if they are
animals; for every animal is either a species or an individual.
Likewise you must inquire also if the species or any of the
objects that come under it is predicated of the differentia: for
this is impossible, seeing that the differentia is a term with a
wider range than the various species. Moreover, if any of the
species be predicated of it, the result will be that the differentia
is a species: if, for instance, man be predicated, the differentia
is clearly the human race. Again, see if the differentia fails to be
prior to the species: for the differentia ought to be posterior to
the genus, but prior to the species.
Look and see also if the differentia mentioned belongs to a
different genus, neither contained in nor containing the genus
in question. For the general view is that the same differentia
cannot be used of two non-subaltern genera. Else the result will
be that the same species as well will be in two non-subaltern
genera: for each of the differentiae imports its own genus, e.g.
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walking and biped import with them the genus animal. If,
then, each of the genera as well is true of that of which the
differentia is true, it clearly follows that the species must be in
two non-subaltern genera. Or perhaps it is not impossible for
the same differentia to be used of two non-subaltern genera,
and we ought to add the words except they both be subordinate
members of the same genus. Thus walking animal and flying
animal are non-subaltern genera, and biped is the differentia
of both. The words except they both be subordinate members of
the same genus ought therefore to be added; for both these are
subordinate to animal. From this possibility, that the same
differentia may be used of two non-subaltern genera, it is clear
also that there is no necessity for the differentia to carry with it
the whole of the genus to which it belongs, but only the one or
the other of its limbs together with the genera that are higher
than this, as biped carries with it either flying or walking
animal.
See, too, if he has rendered existence in something as the
differentia of a things essence: for the general view is that
locality cannot differentiate between one essence and another.
Hence, too, people condemn those who divide animals by
means of the terms walking and aquatic, on the ground that
walking and aquatic indicate mere locality. Or possibly in this
case the censure is undeserved; for aquatic does not mean in
anything; nor does it denote a locality, but a certain quality: for
even if the thing be on the dry land, still it is aquatic: and
likewise a land-animal, even though it be in the water, will still
be a and not an aquatic-animal. But all the same, if ever the
differentia does denote existence in something, clearly he will
have made a bad mistake.
Again, see if he has rendered an affection as the differentia: for
every affection, if intensified, subverts the essence of the thing,
while the differentia is not of that kind: for the differentia is
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7
You should look and see also whether the term being defined is
applied in consideration of something other than the definition
rendered. Suppose (e.g.) a definition of justice as the ability to
distribute what is equal. This would not be right, for just
describes rather the man who chooses, than the man who is
able to distribute what is equal: so that justice could not be an
ability to distribute what is equal: for then also the most just
man would be the man with the most ability to distribute what
is equal.
Moreover, see if the thing admits of degrees, whereas what is
rendered according to the definition does not, or, vice versa,
what is rendered according to the definition admits of degrees
471
while the thing does not. For either both must admit them or
else neither, if indeed what is rendered according to the
definition is the same as the thing. Moreover, see if, while both
of them admit of degrees, they yet do not both become greater
together: e.g. suppose sexual love to be the desire for
intercourse: for he who is more intensely in love has not a more
intense desire for intercourse, so that both do not become
intensified at once: they certainly should, however, had they
been the same thing.
Moreover, suppose two things to be before you, see if the term
to be defined applies more particularly to the one to which the
content of the definition is less applicable. Take, for instance,
the definition of fire as the body that consists of the most
rarefied particles. For fire denotes flame rather than light, but
flame is less the body that consists of the most rarefied
particles than is light: whereas both ought to be more applicable
to the same thing, if they had been the same. Again, see if the
one expression applies alike to both the objects before you,
while the other does not apply to both alike, but more
particularly to one of them.
Moreover, see if he renders the definition relative to two things
taken separately: thus, the beautiful is what is pleasant to the
eyes or to the ears: or the real is what is capable of being
acted upon or of acting. For then the same thing will be both
beautiful and not beautiful, and likewise will be both real and
not real. For pleasant to the ears will be the same as beautiful,
so that not pleasant to the ears will be the same as not
beautiful: for of identical things the opposites, too, are
identical, and the opposite of beautiful is not beautiful, while
of pleasant to the ears the opposite is not pleasant to the cars:
clearly, then, not pleasant to the ears is the same thing as not
beautiful. If, therefore, something be pleasant to the eyes but
not to the ears, it will be both beautiful and not beautiful. In like
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manner we shall show also that the same thing is both real and
unreal.
Moreover, of both genera and differentiae and all the other
terms rendered in definitions you should frame definitions in
lieu of the terms, and then see if there be any discrepancy
between them.
8
If the term defined be relative, either in itself or in respect of its
genus, see whether the definition fails to mention that to which
the term, either in itself or in respect of its genus, is relative, e.g.
if he has defined knowledge as an incontrovertible conception
or wishing as painless conation. For of everything relative the
essence is relative to something else, seeing that the being of
every relative term is identical with being in a certain relation to
something. He ought, therefore, to have said that knowledge is
conception of a knowable and that wishing is conation for a
good. Likewise, also, if he has defined grammar as knowledge
of letters: whereas in the definition there ought to be rendered
either the thing to which the term itself is relative, or that,
whatever it is, to which its genus is relative. Or see if a relative
term has been described not in relation to its end, the end in
anything being whatever is best in it or gives its purpose to the
rest. Certainly it is what is best or final that should be stated,
e.g. that desire is not for the pleasant but for pleasure: for this is
our purpose in choosing what is pleasant as well.
Look and see also if that in relation to which he has rendered
the term be a process or an activity: for nothing of that kind is
an end, for the completion of the activity or process is the end
rather than the process or activity itself. Or perhaps this rule is
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not true in all cases, for almost everybody prefers the present
experience of pleasure to its cessation, so that they would count
the activity as the end rather than its completion.
Again see in some cases if he has failed to distinguish the
quantity or quality or place or other differentiae of an object;
e.g. the quality and quantity of the honour the striving for
which makes a man ambitious: for all men strive for honour, so
that it is not enough to define the ambitious man as him who
strives for honour, but the aforesaid differentiae must be added.
Likewise, also, in defining the covetous man the quantity of
money he aims at, or in the case of the incontinent man the
quality of the pleasures, should be stated. For it is not the man
who gives way to any sort of pleasure whatever who is called
incontinent, but only he who gives way to a certain kind of
pleasure. Or again, people sometimes define night as a shadow
on the earth, or an earthquake as a movement of the earth, or
a cloud as condensation of the air, or a wind as a movement of
the air; whereas they ought to specify as well quantity, quality,
place, and cause. Likewise, also, in other cases of the kind: for by
omitting any differentiae whatever he fails to state the essence
of the term. One should always attack deficiency. For a
movement of the earth does not constitute an earthquake, nor a
movement of the air a wind, irrespective of its manner and the
amount involved.
Moreover, in the case of conations, and in any other cases
where it applies, see if the word apparent is left out, e.g.
wishing is a conation after the good, or desire is a conation
after the pleasant instead of saying the apparently good, or
pleasant. For often those who exhibit the conation do not
perceive what is good or pleasant, so that their aim need not be
really good or pleasant, but only apparently so. They ought,
therefore, to have rendered the definition also accordingly. On
the other hand, any one who maintains the existence of Ideas
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9
Moreover, if the definition be of the state of anything, look at
what is in the state, while if it be of what is in the state, look at
the state: and likewise also in other cases of the kind. Thus if
the pleasant be identical with the beneficial, then, too, the man
who is pleased is benefited. Speaking generally, in definitions of
this sort it happens that what the definer defines is in a sense
more than one thing: for in defining knowledge, a man in a
sense defines ignorance as well, and likewise also what has
knowledge and what lacks it, and what it is to know and to be
ignorant. For if the first be made clear, the others become in a
certain sense clear as well. We have, then, to be on our guard in
all such cases against discrepancy, using the elementary
principles drawn from consideration of contraries and of
coordinates.
Moreover, in the case of relative terms, see if the species is
rendered as relative to a species of that to which the genus is
rendered as relative, e.g. supposing belief to be relative to some
object of belief, see whether a particular belief is made relative
to some particular object of belief: and, if a multiple be relative
to a fraction, see whether a particular multiple be made relative
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10
Moreover, see whether the like inflexions in the definition apply
to the like inflexions of the term; e.g. if beneficial means
productive of health, does beneficially mean productively of
health and a benefactor a producer of health?
Look too and see whether the definition given will apply to the
Idea as well. For in some cases it will not do so; e.g. in the
Platonic definition where he adds the word mortal in his
definitions of living creatures: for the Idea (e.g. the absolute
Man) is not mortal, so that the definition will not fit the Idea. So
always wherever the words capable of acting on or capable of
being acted upon are added, the definition and the Idea are
absolutely bound to be discrepant: for those who assert the
existence of Ideas hold that they are incapable of being acted
upon, or of motion. In dealing with these people even
arguments of this kind are useful.
Further, see if he has rendered a single common definition of
terms that are used ambiguously. For terms whose definition
corresponding their common name is one and the same, are
synonymous; if, then, the definition applies in a like manner to
the whole range of the ambiguous term, it is not true of any one
of the objects described by the term. This is, moreover, what
happens to Dionysius definition of life when stated as a
movement of a creature sustained by nutriment, congenitally
present with it: for this is found in plants as much as in
animals, whereas life is generally understood to mean not one
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11
Suppose now that a definition has been rendered of some
complex term, take away the definition of one of the elements
in the complex, and see if also the rest of the definition defines
the rest of it: if not, it is clear that neither does the whole
definition define the whole complex. Suppose, e.g. that some
one has defined a finite straight line as the limit of a finite
plane, such that its centre is in a line with its extremes; if now
the definition of a finite line be the limit of a finite plane, the
rest (viz. such that its centre is in a line with its extremes)
ought to be a definition of straight. But an infinite straight line
has neither centre nor extremes and yet is straight so that this
remainder does not define the remainder of the term.
Moreover, if the term defined be a compound notion, see if the
definition rendered be equimembral with the term defined. A
definition is said to be equimembral with the term defined
when the number of the elements compounded in the latter is
the same as the number of nouns and verbs in the definition.
For the exchange in such cases is bound to be merely one of
term for term, in the case of some if not of all, seeing that there
are no more terms used now than formerly; whereas in a
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12
Again, see if the term of which he renders the definition is a
reality, whereas what is contained in the definition is not, e.g.
Suppose white to be defined as colour mingled with fire: for
what is bodiless cannot be mingled with body, so that colour
mingled with fire could not exist, whereas white does exist.
Moreover, those who in the case of relative terms do not
distinguish to what the object is related, but have described it
only so as to include it among too large a number of things, are
wrong either wholly or in part; e.g. suppose some one to have
defined medicine as a science of Reality. For if medicine be
not a science of anything that is real, the definition is clearly
altogether false; while if it be a science of some real thing, but
not of another, it is partly false; for it ought to hold of all reality,
if it is said to be of Reality essentially and not accidentally: as is
the case with other relative terms: for every object of knowledge
is a term relative to knowledge: likewise, also, with other
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13
See also whether in defining anything a man has defined it as
an A and B, or as a product of A and B or as an A+B. If he
defines it as and B, the definition will be true of both and yet of
neither of them; suppose, e.g. justice to be defined as
temperance and courage. For if of two persons each has one of
the two only, both and yet neither will be just: for both together
have justice, and yet each singly fails to have it. Even if the
situation here described does not so far appear very absurd
because of the occurrence of this kind of thing in other cases
also (for it is quite possible for two men to have a mina between
them, though neither of them has it by himself), yet least that
they should have contrary attributes surely seems quite absurd;
and yet this will follow if the one be temperate and yet a
coward, and the other, though brave, be a profligate; for then
both will exhibit both justice and injustice: for if justice be
temperance and bravery, then injustice will be cowardice and
profligacy. In general, too, all the ways of showing that the
whole is not the same as the sum of its parts are useful in
meeting the type just described; for a man who defines in this
way seems to assert that the parts are the same as the whole.
The arguments are particularly appropriate in cases where the
process of putting the parts together is obvious, as in a house
and other things of that sort: for there, clearly, you may have the
parts and yet not have the whole, so that parts and whole
cannot be the same.
484
If, however, he has said that the term being defined is not A and
B but the product of A and B, look and see in the first place if A
and B cannot in the nature of things have a single product: for
some things are so related to one another that nothing can
come of them, e.g. a line and a number. Moreover, see if the
term that has been defined is in the nature of things found
primarily in some single subject, whereas the things which he
has said produce it are not found primarily in any single subject,
but each in a separate one. If so, clearly that term could not be
the product of these things: for the whole is bound to be in the
same things wherein its parts are, so that the whole will then be
found primarily not in one subject only, but in a number of
them. If, on the other hand, both parts and whole are found
primarily in some single subject, see if that medium is not the
same, but one thing in the case of the whole and another in
that of the parts. Again, see whether the parts perish together
with the whole: for it ought to happen, vice versa, that the
whole perishes when the parts perish; when the whole
perishes, there is no necessity that the parts should perish too.
Or again, see if the whole be good or evil, and the parts neither,
or, vice versa, if the parts be good or evil and the whole neither.
For it is impossible either for a neutral thing to produce
something good or bad, or for things good or bad to produce a
neutral thing. Or again, see if the one thing is more distinctly
good than the other is evil, and yet the product be no more good
than evil, e.g. suppose shamelessness be defined as the product
of courage and false opinion: here the goodness of courage
exceeds the evil of false opinion; accordingly the product of
these ought to have corresponded to this excess, and to be
either good without qualification, or at least more good than
evil. Or it may be that this does not necessarily follow, unless
each be in itself good or bad; for many things that are
productive are not good in themselves, but only in combination;
or, per contra, they are good taken singly, and bad or neutral in
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486
containing them (as e.g. justice and courage are found in the
soul), or else in the same place or in the same time, and if this
be in no way true of the A and B in question, clearly the
definition rendered could not hold of anything, as there is no
possible way in which A can exist B. If, however, among the
various senses above distinguished, it be true that A and B are
each found in the same time as the other, look and see if
possibly the two are not used in the same relation. Thus e.g.
suppose courage to have been defined as daring with right
reasoning: here it is possible that the person exhibits daring in
robbery, and right reasoning in regard to the means of health:
but he may have the former quality+the latter at the same
time, and not as yet be courageous! Moreover, even though both
be used in the same relation as well, e.g. in relation to medical
treatment (for a man may exhibit both daring and right
reasoning in respect of medical treatment), still, none the less,
not even this combination of the one+the other makes him
courageous. For the two must not relate to any casual object
that is the same, any more than each to a different object;
rather, they must relate to the function of courage, e.g. meeting
the perils of war, or whatever is more properly speaking its
function than this.
Some definitions rendered in this form fail to come under the
aforesaid division at all, e.g. a definition of anger as pain with a
consciousness of being slighted. For what this means to say is
that it is because of a consciousness of this sort that the pain
occurs; but to occur because of a thing is not the same as to
occur + a thing in any of its aforesaid senses.
487
14
Again, if he have described the whole compounded as the
composition of these things (e.g. a living creature as a
composition of soul and body), first of all see whether he has
omitted to state the kind of composition, as (e.g.) in a definition
of flesh or bone as the composition of fire, earth, and air. For
it is not enough to say it is a composition, but you should also
go on to define the kind of composition: for these things do not
form flesh irrespective of the manner of their composition, but
when compounded in one way they form flesh, when in
another, bone. It appears, moreover, that neither of the
aforesaid substances is the same as a composition at all: for a
composition always has a decomposition as its contrary,
whereas neither of the aforesaid has any contrary. Moreover, if
it is equally probable that every compound is a composition or
else that none is, and every kind of living creature, though a
compound, is never a composition, then no other compound
could be a composition either.
Again, if in the nature of a thing two contraries are equally
liable to occur, and the thing has been defined through the one,
clearly it has not been defined; else there will be more than one
definition of the same thing; for how is it any more a definition
to define it through this one than through the other, seeing that
both alike are naturally liable to occur in it? Such is the
definition of the soul, if defined as a substance capable of
receiving knowledge: for it has a like capacity for receiving
ignorance.
Also, even when one cannot attack the definition as a whole for
lack of acquaintance with the whole, one should attack some
part of it, if one knows that part and sees it to be incorrectly
rendered: for if the part be demolished, so too is the whole
definition. Where, again, a definition is obscure, one should first
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Book VII
489
1
Whether two things are the same or different, in the most
literal of the meanings ascribed to sameness (and we said that
the same applies in the most literal sense to what is
numerically one), may be examined in the light of their
inflexions and coordinates and opposites. For if justice be the
same as courage, then too the just man is the same as the brave
man, and justly is the same as bravely. Likewise, too, in the
case of their opposites: for if two things be the same, their
opposites also will be the same, in any of the recognized forms
of opposition. For it is the same thing to take the opposite of the
one or that of the other, seeing that they are the same. Again it
may be examined in the light of those things which tend to
produce or to destroy the things in question of their formation
and destruction, and in general of any thing that is related in
like manner to each. For where things are absolutely the same,
their formations and destructions also are the same, and so are
the things that tend to produce or to destroy them. Look and
see also, in a case where one of two things is said to be
something or other in a superlative degree, if the other of these
alleged identical things can also be described by a superlative in
the same respect. Thus Xenocrates argues that the happy life
and the good life are the same, seeing that of all forms of life
the good life is the most desirable and so also is the happy life:
for the most desirable and the greatest apply but to one thing.
Likewise also in other cases of the kind. Each, however, of the
two things termed greatest or most desirable must be
numerically one: otherwise no proof will have been given that
they are the same; for it does not follow because
Peloponnesians and Spartans are the bravest of the Greeks, that
Peloponnesians are the same as Spartans, seeing that
Peloponnesian is not any one person nor yet Spartan; it only
follows that the one must be included under the other as
Spartans are under Peloponnesians: for otherwise, if the one
490
class be not included under the other, each will be better than
the other. For then the Peloponnesians are bound to be better
than the Spartans, seeing that the one class is not included
under the other; for they are better than anybody else. Likewise
also the Spartans must perforce be better than the
Peloponnesians; for they too are better than anybody else; each
then is better than the other! Clearly therefore what is styled
best and greatest must be a single thing, if it is to be proved to
be the same as another. This also is why Xenocrates fails to
prove his case: for the happy life is not numerically single, nor
yet the good life, so that it does not follow that, because they are
both the most desirable, they are therefore the same, but only
that the one falls under the other.
Again, look and see if, supposing the one to be the same as
something, the other also is the same as it: for if they be not
both the same as the same thing, clearly neither are they the
same as one another.
Moreover, examine them in the light of their accidents or of the
things of which they are accidents: for any accident belonging
to the one must belong also to the other, and if the one belong
to anything as an accident, so must the other also. If in any of
these respects there is a discrepancy, clearly they are not the
same.
See further whether, instead of both being found in one class of
predicates, the one signifies a quality and the other a quantity
or relation. Again, see if the genus of each be not the same, the
one being good and the other evil, or the one being virtue and
the other knowledge: or see if, though the genus is the same,
the differentiae predicted of either be not the same, the one
(e.g.) being distinguished as a speculative science, the other as
a practical science. Likewise also in other cases.
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2
Such is the number of the commonplace rules that relate to
sameness. It is clear from what has been said that all the
destructive commonplaces relating to sameness are useful also
in questions of definition, as was said before: for if what is
signified by the term and by the expression be not the same,
clearly the expression rendered could not be a definition. None
of the constructive commonplaces, on the other hand, helps in
the matter of definition; for it is not enough to show the
sameness of content between the expression and the term, in
order to establish that the former is a definition, but a definition
must have also all the other characters already announced.
3
This then is the way, and these the arguments, whereby the
attempt to demolish a definition should always be made. If, on
the other hand, we desire to establish one, the first thing to
observe is that few if any who engage in discussion arrive at a
definition by reasoning: they always assume something of the
kind as their starting points both in geometry and in
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495
496
4
The most handy of all the commonplace arguments are those
just mentioned and those from co-ordinates and inflexions, and
these therefore are those which it is most important to master
and to have ready to hand: for they are the most useful on the
greatest number of occasions. Of the rest, too, the most
important are those of most general application: for these are
the most effective, e.g. that you should examine the individual
cases, and then look to see in the case of their various species
whether the definition applies. For the species is synonymous
with its individuals. This sort of inquiry is of service against
those who assume the existence of Ideas, as has been said
before. Moreover see if a man has used a term metaphorically,
or predicated it of itself as though it were something different.
So too if any other of the commonplace rules is of general
application and effective, it should be employed.
5
That it is more difficult to establish than to overthrow a
definition, is obvious from considerations presently to be urged.
For to see for oneself, and to secure from those whom one is
questioning, an admission of premisses of this sort is no simple
matter, e.g. that of the elements of the definition rendered the
one is genus and the other differentia, and that only the genus
and differentiae are predicated in the category of essence. Yet
without these premisses it is impossible to reason to a
definition; for if any other things as well are predicated of the
thing in the category of essence, there is no telling whether the
formula stated or some other one is its definition, for a
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reason to them all. Then, too, nearly all the other rules that
apply to the definition will apply also to the property of a thing.
For in establishing a property one has to show that it is true of
everything included under the term in question, whereas to
overthrow one it is enough to show in a single case only that it
fails to belong: further, even if it belongs to everything falling
under the term, but not to that only, it is overthrown in this case
as well, as was explained in the case of the definition. In regard
to the genus, it is clear that you are bound to establish it in one
way only, viz. by showing that it belongs in every case, while of
overthrowing it there are two ways: for if it has been shown that
it belongs either never or not in a certain case, the original
statement has been demolished. Moreover, in establishing a
genus it is not enough to show that it belongs, but also that it
belongs as genus has to be shown; whereas in overthrowing it,
it is enough to show its failure to belong either in some
particular case or in every case. It appears, in fact, as though,
just as in other things to destroy is easier than to create, so in
these matters too to overthrow is easier than to establish.
In the case of an accidental attribute the universal proposition
is easier to overthrow than to establish; for to establish it, one
has to show that it belongs in every case, whereas to overthrow
it, it is enough to show that it does not belong in one single
case. The particular proposition is, on the contrary, easier to
establish than to overthrow: for to establish it, it is enough to
show that it belongs in a particular instance, whereas to
overthrow it, it has to be shown that it never belongs at all.
It is clear also that the easiest thing of all is to overthrow a
definition. For on account of the number of statements involved
we are presented in the definition with the greatest number of
points for attack, and the more plentiful the material, the
quicker an argument comes: for there is more likelihood of a
mistake occurring in a large than in a small number of things.
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500
Book VIII
1
Next there fall to be discussed the problems of arrangement
and method in pitting questions. Any one who intends to frame
questions must, first of all, select the ground from which he
should make his attack; secondly, he must frame them and
arrange them one by one to himself; thirdly and lastly, he must
proceed actually to put them to the other party. Now so far as
the selection of his ground is concerned the problem is one
alike for the philosopher and the dialectician; but how to go on
to arrange his points and frame his questions concerns the
dialectician only: for in every problem of that kind a reference
to another party is involved. Not so with the philosopher, and
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502
503
504
505
been secured also. Again, one should put last the point which
one most wishes to have conceded; for people are specially
inclined to deny the first questions put to them, because most
people in asking questions put first the points which they are
most eager to secure. On the other hand, in dealing with some
people propositions of this sort should be put forward first: for
ill-tempered men admit most readily what comes first, unless
the conclusion that will result actually stares them in the face,
while at the close of an argument they show their ill-temper.
Likewise also with those who consider themselves smart at
answering: for when they have admitted most of what you want
they finally talk clap-trap to the effect that the conclusion does
not follow from their admissions: yet they say Yes readily,
confident in their own character, and imagining that they
cannot suffer any reverse. Moreover, it is well to expand the
argument and insert things that it does not require at all, as do
those who draw false geometrical figures: for in the multitude
of details the whereabouts of the fallacy is obscured. For this
reason also a questioner sometimes evades observation as he
adds in a corner what, if he formulated it by itself, would not be
granted.
For concealment, then, the rules which should be followed are
the above. Ornament is attained by induction and distinction of
things closely akin. What sort of process induction is obvious: as
for distinction, an instance of the kind of thing meant is the
distinction of one form of knowledge as better than another by
being either more accurate, or concerned with better objects; or
the distinction of sciences into speculative, practical, and
productive. For everything of this kind lends additional
ornament to the argument, though there is no necessity to say
them, so far as the conclusion goes.
For clearness, examples and comparisons should be adduced,
and let the illustrations be relevant and drawn from things that
506
2
In dialectics, syllogism should be employed in reasoning against
dialecticians rather than against the crowd: induction, on the
other hand, is most useful against the crowd. This point has
been treated previously as well. In induction, it is possible in
some cases to ask the question in its universal form, but in
others this is not easy, because there is no established general
term that covers all the resemblances: in this case, when people
need to secure the universal, they use the phrase in all cases of
this sort. But it is one of the very hardest things to distinguish
which of the things adduced are of this sort, and which are
not: and in this connexion people often throw dust in each
others eyes in their discussion, the one party asserting the
likeness of things that are not alike, and the other disputing the
likeness of things that are. One ought, therefore, to try oneself
to coin a word to cover all things of the given sort, so as to leave
no opportunity either to the answerer to dispute, and say that
the thing advanced does not answer to a like description, or to
the questioner to suggest falsely that it does answer to a like
description, for many things appear to answer to like
descriptions that do not really do so.
If one has made an induction on the strength of several cases
and yet the answerer refuses to grant the universal proposition,
then it is fair to demand his objection. But until one has oneself
stated in what cases it is so, it is not fair to demand that he
shall say in what cases it is not so: for one should make the
induction first, and then demand the objection. One ought,
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509
510
3
There are certain hypotheses upon which it is at once difficult
to bring, and easy to stand up to, an argument. Such (e.g.) are
those things which stand first and those which stand last in the
order of nature. For the former require definition, while the
latter have to be arrived at through many steps if one wishes to
secure a continuous proof from first principles, or else all
discussion about them wears the air of mere sophistry: for to
prove anything is impossible unless one begins with the
appropriate principles, and connects inference with inference
till the last are reached. Now to define first principles is just
what answerers do not care to do, nor do they pay any attention
if the questioner makes a definition: and yet until it is clear
what it is that is proposed, it is not easy to discuss it. This sort
of thing happens particularly in the case of the first principles:
for while the other propositions are shown through these, these
cannot be shown through anything else: we are obliged to
understand every item of that sort by a definition. The
inferences, too, that lie too close to the first principle are hard to
treat in argument: for it is not possible to bring many arguments
in regard to them, because of the small number of those steps,
between the conclusion and the principle, whereby the
succeeding propositions have to be shown. The hardest,
however, of all definitions to treat in argument are those that
employ terms about which, in the first place, it is uncertain
whether they are used in one sense or several, and, further,
whether they are used literally or metaphorically by the definer.
For because of their obscurity, it is impossible to argue upon
such terms; and because of the impossibility of saying whether
this obscurity is due to their being used metaphorically, it is
impossible to refute them.
In general, it is safe to suppose that, whenever any problem
proves intractable, it either needs definition or else bears either
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512
4
As to the formulation, then, and arrangement of ones
questions, about enough has been said.
With regard to the giving of answers, we must first define what
is the business of a good answerer, as of a good questioner. The
business of the questioner is so to develop the argument as to
make the answerer utter the most extrvagant paradoxes that
necessarily follow because of his position: while that of the
answerer is to make it appear that it is not he who is
responsible for the absurdity or paradox, but only his position:
for one may, perhaps, distinguish between the mistake of taking
up a wrong position to start with, and that of not maintaining it
properly, when once taken up.
513
5
Inasmuch as no rules are laid down for those who argue for the
sake of training and of examination: and the aim of those
engaged in teaching or learning is quite different from that of
those engaged in a competition; as is the latter from that of
those who discuss things together in the spirit of inquiry: for a
learner should always state what he thinks: for no one is even
trying to teach him what is false; whereas in a competition the
business of the questioner is to appear by all means to produce
an effect upon the other, while that of the answerer is to appear
unaffected by him; on the other hand, in an assembly of
disputants discussing in the spirit not of a competition but of
an examination and inquiry, there are as yet no articulate rules
about what the answerer should aim at, and what kind of things
he should and should not grant for the correct or incorrect
defence of his position: inasmuch, then, as we have no
tradition bequeathed to us by others, let us try to say something
upon the matter for ourselves.
The thesis laid down by the answerer before facing the
questioners argument is bound of necessity to be one that is
either generally accepted or generally rejected or else is neither:
and moreover is so accepted or rejected either absolutely or else
with a restriction, e.g. by some given person, by the speaker or
by some one else. The manner, however, of its acceptance or
rejection, whatever it be, makes no difference: for the right way
to answer, i.e. to admit or to refuse to admit what has been
asked, will be the same in either case. If, then, the statement
laid down by the answerer be generally rejected, the conclusion
aimed at by the questioner is bound to be one generally
accepted, whereas if the former be generally accepted, the latter
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6
It is clear, then, what the aims of the answerer should be,
whether the position he lays down be a view generally accepted
without qualification or accepted by some definite person. Now
every question asked is bound to involve some view that is
either generally held or generally rejected or neither, and is also
bound to be either relevant to the argument or irrelevant: if
then it be a view generally accepted and irrelevant, the
answerer should grant it and remark that it is the accepted
view: if it be a view not generally accepted and irrelevant, he
should grant it but add a comment that it is not generally
accepted, in order to avoid the appearance of being a simpleton.
If it be relevant and also be generally accepted, he should admit
516
that it is the view generally accepted but say that it lies too
close to the original proposition, and that if it be granted the
problem proposed collapses. If what is claimed by the
questioner be relevant but too generally rejected, the answerer,
while admitting that if it be granted the conclusion sought
follows, should yet protest that the proposition is too absurd to
be admitted. Suppose, again, it be a view that is neither rejected
generally nor generally accepted, then, if it be irrelevant to the
argument, it may be granted without restriction; if, however, it
be relevant, the answerer should add the comment that, if it be
granted, the original problem collapses. For then the answerer
will not be held to be personally accountable for what happens
to him, if he grants the several points with his eyes open, and
also the questioner will be able to draw his inference, seeing
that all the premisses that are more generally accepted than the
conclusion are granted him. Those who try to draw an inference
from premisses more generally rejected than the conclusion
clearly do not reason correctly: hence, when men ask these
things, they ought not to be granted.
7
The questioner should be met in a like manner also in the case
of terms used obscurely, i.e. in several senses. For the answerer,
if he does not understand, is always permitted to say I do not
understand: he is not compelled to reply Yes or No to a
question which may mean different things. Clearly, then, in the
first place, if what is said be not clear, he ought not to hesitate
to say that he does not understand it; for often people
encounter some difficulty from assenting to questions that are
not clearly put. If he understands the question and yet it covers
many senses, then supposing what it says to be universally true
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8
A premiss in reasoning always either is one of the constituent
elements in the reasoning, or else goes to establish one of these:
(and you can always tell when it is secured in order to establish
something else by the fact of a number of similar questions
being put: for as a rule people secure their universal by means
either of induction or of likeness): accordingly the particular
propositions should all be admitted, if they are true and
generally held. On the other hand, against the universal one
should try to bring some negative instance; for to bring the
argument to a standstill without a negative instance, either real
or apparent, shows ill-temper. If, then, a man refuses to grant
the universal when supported by many instances, although he
has no negative instance to show, he obviously shows illtemper. If, moreover, he cannot even attempt a counter-proof
that it is not true, far more likely is he to be thought illtempered although even counter-proof is not enough: for we
often hear arguments that are contrary to common opinions,
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9
Before maintaining either a thesis or a definition the answerer
should try his hand at attacking it by himself; for clearly his
business is to oppose those positions from which questioners
demolish what he has laid down.
He should beware of maintaining a hypothesis that is generally
rejected: and this it may be in two ways: for it may be one
which results in absurd statements, e.g. suppose any one were
to say that everything is in motion or that nothing is; and also
there are all those which only a bad character would choose,
and which are implicitly opposed to mens wishes, e.g. that
pleasure is the good, and that to do injustice is better than to
suffer it. For people then hate him, supposing him to maintain
them not for the sake of argument but because he really thinks
them.
10
Of all arguments that reason to a false conclusion the right
solution is to demolish the point on which the fallacy that
occurs depends: for the demolition of any random point is no
solution, even though the point demolished be false. For the
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11
Adverse criticism of an argument on its own merits, and of it
when presented in the form of questions, are two different
things. For often the failure to carry through the argument
correctly in discussion is due to the person questioned, because
he will not grant the steps of which a correct argument might
have been made against his position: for it is not in the power of
the one side only to effect properly a result that depends on
both alike. Accordingly it sometimes becomes necessary to
attack the speaker and not his position, when the answerer lies
in wait for the points that are contrary to the questioner and
becomes abusive as well: when people lose their tempers in this
way, their argument becomes a contest, not a discussion.
Moreover, since arguments of this kind are held not for the sake
of instruction but for purposes of practice and examination,
clearly one has to reason not only to true conclusions, but also
to false ones, and not always through true premisses, but
sometimes through false as well. For often, when a true
proposition is put forward, the dialectician is compelled to
demolish it: and then false propositions have to be formulated.
Sometimes also when a false proposition is put forward, it has
to be demolished by means of false propositions: for it is
possible for a given man to believe what is not the fact more
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523
524
pro and con be alike in the case of the premisses, they will be
alike for the conclusion also: if, on the other hand, the one
preponderates, the conclusion too will follow suit.
It is also a fault in reasoning when a man shows something
through a long chain of steps, when he might employ fewer
steps and those already included in his argument: suppose him
to be showing (e.g.) that one opinion is more properly so called
than another, and suppose him to make his postulates as
follows: x-in-itself is more fully x than anything else: there
genuinely exists an object of opinion in itself: therefore the
object-of-opinion-in-itself is more fully an object of opinion
than the particular objects of opinion. Now a relative term is
more fully itself when its correlate is more fully itself: and
there exists a genuine opinion-in-itself, which will be opinion
in a more accurate sense than the particular opinions: and it
has been postulated both that a genuine opinion-in-itself
exists, and that x-in-itself is more fully x than anything else:
therefore this will be opinion in a more accurate sense.
Wherein lies the viciousness of the reasoning? Simply in that it
conceals the ground on which the argument depends.
12
An argument is clear in one, and that the most ordinary, sense,
if it be so brought to a conclusion as to make no further
questions necessary: in another sense, and this is the type most
usually advanced, when the propositions secured are such as
compel the conclusion, and the argument is concluded through
premisses that are themselves conclusions: moreover, it is so
also if some step is omitted that generally is firmly accepted.
525
13
Of the ways in which a questioner may beg the original
question and also beg contraries the true account has been
given in the Analytics: but an account on the level of general
opinion must be given now.
People appear to beg their original question in five ways: the
first and most obvious being if any one begs the actual point
requiring to be shown: this is easily detected when put in so
many words; but it is more apt to escape detection in the case
of different terms, or a term and an expression, that mean the
same thing. A second way occurs whenever any one begs
universally something which he has to demonstrate in a
particular case: suppose (e.g.) he were trying to prove that the
knowledge of contraries is one and were to claim that the
knowledge of opposites in general is one: for then he is
generally thought to be begging, along with a number of other
things, that which he ought to have shown by itself. A third way
is if any one were to beg in particular cases what he undertakes
to show universally: e.g. if he undertook to show that the
knowledge of contraries is always one, and begged it of certain
pairs of contraries: for he also is generally considered to be
begging independently and by itself what, together with a
number of other things, he ought to have shown. Again, a man
begs the question if he begs his conclusion piecemeal:
supposing e.g. that he had to show that medicine is a science of
what leads to health and to disease, and were to claim first the
one, then the other; or, fifthly, if he were to beg the one or the
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14
The best way to secure training and practice in arguments of
this kind is in the first place to get into the habit of converting
the arguments. For in this way we shall be better equipped for
dealing with the proposition stated, and after a few attempts we
shall know several arguments by heart. For by conversion of an
argument is meant the taking the reverse of the conclusion
together with the remaining propositions asked and so
demolishing one of those that were conceded: for it follows
necessarily that if the conclusion be untrue, some one of the
premisses is demolished, seeing that, given all the premisses,
the conclusion was bound to follow. Always, in dealing with any
proposition, be on the look-out for a line of argument both pro
and con: and on discovering it at once set about looking for the
solution of it: for in this way you will soon find that you have
trained yourself at the same time in both asking questions and
answering them. If we cannot find any one else to argue with,
we should argue with ourselves. Select, moreover, arguments
relating to the same thesis and range them side by side: for this
produces a plentiful supply of arguments for carrying a point by
sheer force, and in refutation also it is of great service,
whenever one is well stocked with arguments pro and con: for
then you find yourself on your guard against contrary
statements to the one you wish to secure. Moreover, as
contributing to knowledge and to philosophic wisdom the
power of discerning and holding in one view the results of
either of two hypotheses is no mean instrument; for it then
only remains to make a right choice of one of them. For a task of
this kind a certain natural ability is required: in fact real natural
ability just is the power right to choose the true and shun the
false. Men of natural ability can do this; for by a right liking or
disliking for whatever is proposed to them they rightly select
what is best.
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will enable one to turn a single rule into several. A like rule
applies in Rhetoric as well to enthymemes. For yourself,
however, you should as far as possible avoid universalizing your
reasonings. You should, moreover, always examine arguments
to see whether they rest on principles of general application: for
all particular arguments really reason universally, as well, i.e. a
particular demonstration always contains a universal
demonstration, because it is impossible to reason at all without
using universals.
You should display your training in inductive reasoning against
a young man, in deductive against an expert. You should try,
moreover, to secure from those skilled in deduction their
premisses, from inductive reasoners their parallel cases; for this
is the thing in which they are respectively trained. In general,
too, from your exercises in argumentation you should try to
carry away either a syllogism on some subject or a refutation or
a proposition or an objection, or whether some one put his
question properly or improperly (whether it was yourself or
some one else) and the point which made it the one or the
other. For this is what gives one ability, and the whole object of
training is to acquire ability, especially in regard to propositions
and objections. For it is the skilled propounder and objector
who is, speaking generally, a dialectician. To formulate a
proposition is to form a number of things into one for the
conclusion to which the argument leads must be taken
generally, as a single thing whereas to formulate an objection
is to make one thing into many; for the objector either
distinguishes or demolishes, partly granting, partly denying the
statements proposed.
Do not argue with every one, nor practise upon the man in the
street: for there are some people with whom any argument is
bound to degenerate. For against any one who is ready to try all
means in order to seem not to be beaten, it is indeed fair to try
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1
Let us now discuss sophistic refutations, i.e. what appear to be
refutations but are really fallacies instead. We will begin in the
natural order with the first.
That some reasonings are genuine, while others seem to be so
but are not, is evident. This happens with arguments, as also
elsewhere, through a certain likeness between the genuine and
the sham. For physically some people are in a vigorous
condition, while others merely seem to be so by blowing and
rigging themselves out as the tribesmen do their victims for
sacrifice; and some people are beautiful thanks to their beauty,
while others seem to be so, by dint of embellishing themselves.
So it is, too, with inanimate things; for of these, too, some are
really silver and others gold, while others are not and merely
seem to be such to our sense; e.g. things made of litharge and
tin seem to be of silver, while those made of yellow metal look
golden. In the same way both reasoning and refutation are
sometimes genuine, sometimes not, though inexperience may
make them appear so: for inexperienced people obtain only, as
it were, a distant view of these things. For reasoning rests on
certain statements such that they involve necessarily the
assertion of something other than what has been stated,
through what has been stated: refutation is reasoning involving
the contradictory of the given conclusion. Now some of them do
not really achieve this, though they seem to do so for a number
of reasons; and of these the most prolific and usual domain is
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2
Of arguments in dialogue form there are four classes:
Didactic, Dialectical, Examination-arguments, and Contentious
arguments. Didactic arguments are those that reason from the
principles appropriate to each subject and not from the
opinions held by the answerer (for the learner should take
things on trust): dialectical arguments are those that reason
from premisses generally accepted, to the contradictory of a
given thesis: examination-arguments are those that reason
from premisses which are accepted by the answerer and which
any one who pretends to possess knowledge of the subject is
bound to know-in what manner, has been defined in another
treatise: contentious arguments are those that reason or appear
to reason to a conclusion from premisses that appear to be
generally accepted but are not so. The subject, then, of
demonstrative arguments has been discussed in the Analytics,
while that of dialectic arguments and examination-arguments
has been discussed elsewhere: let us now proceed to speak of
the arguments used in competitions and contests.
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3
First we must grasp the number of aims entertained by those
who argue as competitors and rivals to the death. These are five
in number, refutation, fallacy, paradox, solecism, and fifthly to
reduce the opponent in the discussion to babbling i.e. to
constrain him to repeat himself a number of times: or it is to
produce the appearance of each of these things without the
reality. For they choose if possible plainly to refute the other
party, or as the second best to show that he is committing some
fallacy, or as a third best to lead him into paradox, or fourthly to
reduce him to solecism, i.e. to make the answerer, in
consequence of the argument, to use an ungrammatical
expression; or, as a last resort, to make him repeat himself.
4
There are two styles of refutation: for some depend on the
language used, while some are independent of language. Those
ways of producing the false appearance of an argument which
depend on language are six in number: they are ambiguity,
amphiboly, combination, division of words, accent, form of
expression. Of this we may assure ourselves both by induction,
and by syllogistic proof based on this and it may be on other
assumptions as well that this is the number of ways in which
we might fall to mean the same thing by the same names or
expressions. Arguments such as the following depend upon
ambiguity. Those learn who know: for it is those who know
their letters who learn the letters dictated to them. For to
learn is ambiguous; it signifies both to understand by the use
of knowledge, and also to acquire knowledge. Again, Evils are
good: for what needs to be is good, and evils must needs be. For
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5
Fallacies, then, that depend on Accident occur whenever any
attribute is claimed to belong in like manner to a thing and to
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its accident. For since the same thing has many accidents there
is no necessity that all the same attributes should belong to all
of a things predicates and to their subject as well. Thus (e.g.), If
Coriscus be different from man, he is different from himself:
for he is a man: or If he be different from Socrates, and
Socrates be a man, then, they say, he has admitted that
Coriscus is different from a man, because it so happens (accidit)
that the person from whom he said that he (Coriscus) is
different is a man.
Those that depend on whether an expression is used absolutely
or in a certain respect and not strictly, occur whenever an
expression used in a particular sense is taken as though it were
used absolutely, e.g. in the argument If what is not is the object
of an opinion, then what is not is: for it is not the same thing
to be x and to be absolutely. Or again, What is, is not, if it is
not a particular kind of being, e.g. if it is not a man. For it is not
the same thing not to be x and not to be at all: it looks as if it
were, because of the closeness of the expression, i.e. because to
be x is but little different from to be, and not to be x from not
to be. Likewise also with any argument that turns upon the
point whether an expression is used in a certain respect or used
absolutely. Thus e.g. Suppose an Indian to be black all over, but
white in respect of his teeth; then he is both white and not
white. Or if both characters belong in a particular respect, then,
they say, contrary attributes belong at the same time. This kind
of thing is in some cases easily seen by any one, e.g. suppose a
man were to secure the statement that the Ethiopian is black,
and were then to ask whether he is white in respect of his
teeth; and then, if he be white in that respect, were to suppose
at the conclusion of his questions that therefore he had proved
dialectically that he was both white and not white. But in some
cases it often passes undetected, viz. in all cases where,
whenever a statement is made of something in a certain
respect, it would be generally thought that the absolute
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proof that the soul and life are not the same: for if coming-tobe be contrary to perishing, then a particular form of perishing
will have a particular form of coming-to-be as its contrary: now
death is a particular form of perishing and is contrary to life:
life, therefore, is a coming to-be, and to live is to come-to-be. But
this is impossible: accordingly, the soul and life are not the
same. Now this is not proved: for the impossibility results all
the same, even if one does not say that life is the same as the
soul, but merely says that life is contrary to death, which is a
form of perishing, and that perishing has coming-to-be as its
contrary. Arguments of that kind, then, though not inconclusive
absolutely, are inconclusive in relation to the proposed
conclusion. Also even the questioners themselves often fail
quite as much to see a point of that kind.
Such, then, are the arguments that depend upon the
consequent and upon false cause. Those that depend upon the
making of two questions into one occur whenever the plurality
is undetected and a single answer is returned as if to a single
question. Now, in some cases, it is easy to see that there is more
than one, and that an answer is not to be given, e.g. Does the
earth consist of sea, or the sky? But in some cases it is less
easy, and then people treat the question as one, and either
confess their defeat by failing to answer the question, or are
exposed to an apparent refutation. Thus Is A and is B a man?
Yes. Then if any one hits A and B, he will strike a man
(singular),not men (plural). Or again, where part is good and
part bad, is the whole good or bad? For whichever he says, it is
possible that he might be thought to expose himself to an
apparent refutation or to make an apparently false statement:
for to say that something is good which is not good, or not good
which is good, is to make a false statement. Sometimes,
however, additional premisses may actually give rise to a
genuine refutation; e.g. suppose a man were to grant that the
descriptions white and naked and blind apply to one thing
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6
The right way, then, is either to divide apparent proofs and
refutations as above, or else to refer them all to ignorance of
what refutation is, and make that our starting-point: for it is
possible to analyse all the aforesaid modes of fallacy into
breaches of the definition of a refutation. In the first place, we
may see if they are inconclusive: for the conclusion ought to
result from the premisses laid down, so as to compel us
necessarily to state it and not merely to seem to compel us.
Next we should also take the definition bit by bit, and try the
fallacy thereby. For of the fallacies that consist in language,
some depend upon a double meaning, e.g. ambiguity of words
and of phrases, and the fallacy of like verbal forms (for we
habitually speak of everything as though it were a particular
substance) while fallacies of combination and division and
accent arise because the phrase in question or the term as
altered is not the same as was intended. Even this, however,
should be the same, just as the thing signified should be as well,
if a refutation or proof is to be effected; e.g. if the point concerns
a doublet, then you should draw the conclusion of a doublet,
not of a cloak. For the former conclusion also would be true,
but it has not been proved; we need a further question to show
that doublet means the same thing, in order to satisfy any one
who asks why you think your point proved.
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thing are also the same as one another, and this is the ground of
a refutation dependent on the consequent. It is, however, not
always true, e.g. suppose that and B are the same as C per
accidens; for both snow and the swan are the same as
something white. Or again, as in Melissus argument, a man
assumes that to have been generated and to have a beginning
are the same thing, or to become equal and to assume the
same magnitude. For because what has been generated has a
beginning, he claims also that what has a beginning has been
generated, and argues as though both what has been generated
and what is finite were the same because each has a beginning.
Likewise also in the case of things that are made equal he
assumes that if things that assume one and the same
magnitude become equal, then also things that become equal
assume one magnitude: i.e. he assumes the consequent.
Inasmuch, then, as a refutation depending on accident consists
in ignorance of what a refutation is, clearly so also does a
refutation depending on the consequent. We shall have further
to examine this in another way as well.
Those fallacies that depend upon the making of several
questions into one consist in our failure to dissect the definition
of proposition. For a proposition is a single statement about a
single thing. For the same definition applies to one single thing
only and to the thing, simply, e.g. to man and to one single
man only and likewise also in other cases. If, then, a single
proposition be one which claims a single thing of a single thing,
a proposition, simply, will also be the putting of a question of
that kind. Now since a proof starts from propositions and
refutation is a proof, refutation, too, will start from propositions.
If, then, a proposition is a single statement about a single thing,
it is obvious that this fallacy too consists in ignorance of what a
refutation is: for in it what is not a proposition appears to be
one. If, then, the answerer has returned an answer as though to
a single question, there will be a refutation; while if he has
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7
The deception comes about in the case of arguments that
depend on ambiguity of words and of phrases because we are
unable to divide the ambiguous term (for some terms it is not
easy to divide, e.g. unity, being, and sameness), while in
those that depend on combination and division, it is because we
suppose that it makes no difference whether the phrase be
combined or divided, as is indeed the case with most phrases.
Likewise also with those that depend on accent: for the
lowering or raising of the voice upon a phrase is thought not to
alter its meaning with any phrase, or not with many. With
those that depend on the of expression it is because of the
likeness of expression. For it is hard to distinguish what kind of
things are signified by the same and what by different kinds of
expression: for a man who can do this is practically next door to
the understanding of the truth. A special reason why a man is
liable to be hurried into assent to the fallacy is that we suppose
every predicate of everything to be an individual thing, and we
understand it as being one with the thing: and we therefore
treat it as a substance: for it is to that which is one with a thing
or substance, as also to substance itself, that individually and
being are deemed to belong in the fullest sense. For this
reason, too, this type of fallacy is to be ranked among those that
depend on language; in the first place, because the deception is
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8
Since we know on how many points apparent syllogisms
depend, we know also on how many sophistical syllogisms and
refutations may depend. By a sophistical refutation and
syllogism I mean not only a syllogism or refutation which
appears to be valid but is not, but also one which, though it is
valid, only appears to be appropriate to the thing in question.
These are those which fail to refute and prove people to be
ignorant according to the nature of the thing in question, which
was the function of the art of examination. Now the art of
examining is a branch of dialectic: and this may prove a false
conclusion because of the ignorance of the answerer. Sophistic
refutations on the other hand, even though they prove the
contradictory of his thesis, do not make clear whether he is
ignorant: for sophists entangle the scientist as well with these
arguments.
That we know them by the same line of inquiry is clear: for the
same considerations which make it appear to an audience that
the points required for the proof were asked in the questions
and that the conclusion was proved, would make the answerer
think so as well, so that false proof will occur through all or
some of these means: for what a man has not been asked but
thinks he has granted, he would also grant if he were asked. Of
course, in some cases the moment we add the missing
question, we also show up its falsity, e.g. in fallacies that depend
on language and on solecism. If then, fallacious proofs of the
contradictory of a thesis depend on their appearing to refute, it
is clear that the considerations on which both proofs of false
conclusions and an apparent refutation depend must be the
same in number. Now an apparent refutation depends upon the
elements involved in a genuine one: for the failure of one or
other of these must make the refutation merely apparent, e.g.
that which depends on the failure of the conclusion to follow
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9
The number of considerations on which depend the refutations
of those who are refuted, we ought not to try to grasp without a
knowledge of everything that is. This, however, is not the
province of any special study: for possibly the sciences are
infinite in number, so that obviously demonstrations may be
infinite too. Now refutations may be true as well as false: for
whenever it is possible to demonstrate something, it is also
possible to refute the man who maintains the contradictory of
the truth; e.g. if a man has stated that the diagonal is
commensurate with the side of the square, one might refute
him by demonstrating that it is incommensurate. Accordingly,
to exhaust all possible refutations we shall have to have
scientific knowledge of everything: for some refutations depend
upon the principles that rule in geometry and the conclusions
that follow from these, others upon those that rule in medicine,
and others upon those of the other sciences. For the matter of
that, the false refutations likewise belong to the number of the
infinite: for according to every art there is false proof, e.g.
according to geometry there is false geometrical proof, and
according to medicine there is false medical proof. By according
to the art, I mean according to the principles of it. Clearly,
then, it is not of all refutations, but only of those that depend
upon dialectic that we need to grasp the common-place rules:
for these stand in a common relation to every art and faculty.
And as regards the refutation that is according to one or other
of the particular sciences it is the task of that particular
scientist to examine whether it is merely apparent without
being real, and, if it be real, what is the reason for it: whereas it
is the business of dialecticians so to examine the refutation that
proceeds from the common first principles that fall under no
particular special study. For if we grasp the startingpoints of the
accepted proofs on any subject whatever we grasp those of the
refutations current on that subject. For a refutation is the proof
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It is no true distinction between arguments which some people
draw when they say that some arguments are directed against
the expression, and others against the thought expressed: for it
is absurd to suppose that some arguments are directed against
the expression and others against the thought, and that they
are not the same. For what is failure to direct an argument
against the thought except what occurs whenever a man does
not in using the expression think it to be used in his question in
the same sense in which the person questioned granted it? And
this is the same thing as to direct the argument against the
expression. On the other hand, it is directed against the thought
whenever a man uses the expression in the same sense which
the answerer had in mind when he granted it. If now any (i.e.
both the questioner and the person questioned), in dealing with
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expression: but these are not all even apparent refutations, let
alone all refutations. For there are also apparent refutations
which do not depend upon language, e.g. those that depend
upon accident, and others.
If, however, any one claims that one should actually draw the
distinction, and say, By speaking of the silent I mean, in one
sense this and in the other sense that, surely to claim this is in
the first place absurd (for sometimes the questioner does not
see the ambiguity of his question, and he cannot possibly draw
a distinction which he does not think to be there): in the second
place, what else but this will didactic argument be? For it will
make manifest the state of the case to one who has never
considered, and does not know or suppose that there is any
other meaning but one. For what is there to prevent the same
thing also happening to us in cases where there is no double
meaning? Are the units in four equal to the twos? Observe that
the twos are contained in four in one sense in this way, in
another sense in that. Also, Is the knowledge of contraries one
or not? Observe that some contraries are known, while others
are unknown. Thus the man who makes this claim seems to be
unaware of the difference between didactic and dialectical
argument, and of the fact that while he who argues didactically
should not ask questions but make things clear himself, the
other should merely ask questions.
11
Moreover, to claim a Yes or No answer is the business not of a
man who is showing something, but of one who is holding an
examination. For the art of examining is a branch of dialectic
and has in view not the man who has knowledge, but the
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arguments, but not with the same motives: and the same
argument will be sophistical and contentious, but not in the
same respect; rather, it will be contentious in so far as its aim is
an apparent victory, while in so far as its aim is an apparent
wisdom, it will be sophistical: for the art of sophistry is a certain
appearance of wisdom without the reality. The contentious
argument stands in somewhat the same relation to the
dialectical as the drawer of false diagrams to the geometrician;
for it beguiles by misreasoning from the same principles as
dialectic uses, just as the drawer of a false diagram beguiles the
geometrician. But whereas the latter is not a contentious
reasoner, because he bases his false diagram on the principles
and conclusions that fall under the art of geometry, the
argument which is subordinate to the principles of dialectic will
yet clearly be contentious as regards other subjects. Thus, e.g.
though the squaring of the circle by means of the lunules is not
contentious, Brysons solution is contentious: and the former
argument cannot be adapted to any subject except geometry,
because it proceeds from principles that are peculiar to
geometry, whereas the latter can be adapted as an argument
against all the number of people who do not know what is or is
not possible in each particular context: for it will apply to them
all. Or there is the method whereby Antiphon squared the circle.
Or again, an argument which denied that it was better to take a
walk after dinner, because of Zenos argument, would not be a
proper argument for a doctor, because Zenos argument is of
general application. If, then, the relation of the contentious
argument to the dialectical were exactly like that of the drawer
of false diagrams to the geometrician, a contentious argument
upon the aforesaid subjects could not have existed. But, as it is,
the dialectical argument is not concerned with any definite kind
of being, nor does it show anything, nor is it even an argument
such as we find in the general philosophy of being. For all
beings are not contained in any one kind, nor, if they were,
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12
So much, then, for apparent refutations. As for showing that the
answerer is committing some fallacy, and drawing his argument
into paradox for this was the second item of the sophists
programme in the first place, then, this is best brought about
by a certain manner of questioning and through the question.
For to put the question without framing it with reference to any
definite subject is a good bait for these purposes: for people are
more inclined to make mistakes when they talk at large, and
they talk at large when they have no definite subject before
them. Also the putting of several questions, even though the
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13
Paradoxes, then, you should seek to elicit by means of these
common-place rules. Now as for making any one babble, we
have already said what we mean by to babble. This is the object
in view in all arguments of the following kind: If it is all the
same to state a term and to state its definition, the double and
double of half are the same: if then double be the double of
half, it will be the double of half of half. And if, instead of
double, double of half be again put, then the same expression
will be repeated three times, double of half of half of half. Also
desire is of the pleasant, isnt it? desire is conation for the
pleasant: accordingly, desire is conation for the pleasant for
the pleasant.
All arguments of this kind occur in dealing (1) with any relative
terms which not only have relative genera, but are also
themselves relative, and are rendered in relation to one and the
same thing, as e.g. conation is conation for something, and
desire is desire of something, and double is double of
something, i.e. double of half: also in dealing (2) with any terms
which, though they be not relative terms at all, yet have their
substance, viz. the things of which they are the states or
affections or what not, indicated as well in their definition, they
being predicated of these things. Thus e.g. odd is a number
containing a middle: but there is an odd number: therefore
there is a number-containing-a-middle number. Also, if
snubness be a concavity of the nose, and there be a snub nose,
there is therefore a concave-nose nose.
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14
We have said before what kind of thing solecism is. It is
possible both to commit it, and to seem to do so without doing
so, and to do so without seeming to do so. Suppose, as
Protagoras used to say that menis (wrath) and pelex (helmet)
are masculine: according to him a man who calls wrath a
destructress (oulomenen) commits a solecism, though he does
not seem to do so to other people, where he who calls it a
destructor (oulomenon) commits no solecism though he
seems to do so. It is clear, then, that any one could produce this
effect by art as well: and for this reason many arguments seem
to lead to solecism which do not really do so, as happens in the
case of refutations.
Almost all apparent solecisms depend upon the word this
(tode), and upon occasions when the inflection denotes neither
a masculine nor a feminine object but a neuter. For he (outos)
signifies a masculine, and she (aute) feminine; but this
(touto), though meant to signify a neuter, often also signifies
one or other of the former: e.g. What is this? It is Calliope; it
is a log; it is Coriscus. Now in the masculine and feminine the
inflections are all different, whereas in the neuter some are and
some are not. Often, then, when this (touto) has been granted,
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15
With a view then to refutation, one resource is length for it is
difficult to keep several things in view at once; and to secure
length the elementary rules that have been stated before should
be employed. One resource, on the other hand, is speed; for
when people are left behind they look ahead less. Moreover,
there is anger and contentiousness, for when agitated
everybody is less able to take care of himself. Elementary rules
for producing anger are to make a show of the wish to play foul,
and to be altogether shameless. Moreover, there is the putting
of ones questions alternately, whether one has more than one
argument leading to the same conclusion, or whether one has
arguments to show both that something is so, and that it is not
so: for the result is that he has to be on his guard at the same
time either against more than one line, or against contrary
lines, of argument. In general, all the methods described before
of producing concealment are useful also for purposes of
contentious argument: for the object of concealment is to avoid
detection, and the object of this is to deceive.
To counter those who refuse to grant whatever they suppose to
help ones argument, one should put the question negatively, as
though desirous of the opposite answer, or at any rate as though
one put the question without prejudice; for when it is obscure
what answer one wants to secure, people are less refractory.
Also when, in dealing with particulars, a man grants the
individual case, when the induction is done you should often
not put the universal as a question, but take it for granted and
use it: for sometimes people themselves suppose that they have
granted it, and also appear to the audience to have done so, for
they remember the induction and assume that the questions
could not have been put for nothing. In cases where there is no
term to indicate the universal, still you should avail yourself of
the resemblance of the particulars to suit your purpose; for
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16
We have now therefore dealt with the sources of questions, and
the methods of questioning in contentious disputations: next
568
569
17
First then, just as we say that we ought sometimes to choose to
prove something in the general estimation rather than in truth,
so also we have sometimes to solve arguments rather in the
general estimation than according to the truth. For it is a
general rule in fighting contentious persons, to treat them not
as refuting, but as merely appearing to refute: for we say that
they dont really prove their case, so that our object in
correcting them must be to dispel the appearance of it. For if
refutation be an unambiguous contradiction arrived at from
certain views, there could be no need to draw distinctions
against amphiboly and ambiguity: they do not effect a proof.
The only motive for drawing further distinctions is that the
conclusion reached looks like a refutation. What, then, we have
to beware of, is not being refuted, but seeming to be, because of
course the asking of amphibolies and of questions that turn
upon ambiguity, and all the other tricks of that kind, conceal
even a genuine refutation, and make it uncertain who is refuted
and who is not. For since one has the right at the end, when the
conclusion is drawn, to say that the only denial made of Ones
statement is ambiguous, no matter how precisely he may have
addressed his argument to the very same point as oneself, it is
not clear whether one has been refuted: for it is not clear
whether at the moment one is speaking the truth. If, on the
other hand, one had drawn a distinction, and questioned him
on the ambiguous term or the amphiboly, the refutation would
not have been a matter of uncertainty. Also what is incidentally
the object of contentious arguers, though less so nowadays than
570
571
572
573
574
18
Inasmuch as a proper solution is an exposure of false reasoning,
showing on what kind of question the falsity depends, and
whereas false reasoning has a double meaning for it is used
either if a false conclusion has been proved, or if there is only
an apparent proof and no real one there must be both the kind
of solution just described, and also the correction of a merely
apparent proof, so as to show upon which of the questions the
appearance depends. Thus it comes about that one solves
arguments that are properly reasoned by demolishing them,
whereas one solves merely apparent arguments by drawing
distinctions. Again, inasmuch as of arguments that are properly
reasoned some have a true and others a false conclusion, those
that are false in respect of their conclusion it is possible to solve
in two ways; for it is possible both by demolishing one of the
premisses asked, and by showing that the conclusion is not the
real state of the case: those, on the other hand, that are false in
respect of the premisses can be solved only by a demolition of
one of them; for the conclusion is true. So that those who wish
to solve an argument should in the first place look and see if it
is properly reasoned, or is unreasoned; and next, whether the
conclusion be true or false, in order that we may effect the
solution either by drawing some distinction or by demolishing
575
19
Of the refutations, then, that depend upon ambiguity and
amphiboly some contain some question with more than one
meaning, while others contain a conclusion bearing a number
of senses: e.g. in the proof that speaking of the silent is
possible, the conclusion has a double meaning, while in the
proof that he who knows does not understand what he knows
one of the questions contains an amphiboly. Also the doubleedged saying is true in one context but not in another: it means
something that is and something that is not.
Whenever, then, the many senses lie in the conclusion no
refutation takes place unless the sophist secures as well the
contradiction of the conclusion he means to prove; e.g. in the
proof that seeing of the blind is possible: for without the
contradiction there was no refutation. Whenever, on the other
hand, the many senses lie in the questions, there is no necessity
to begin by denying the double-edged premiss: for this was not
the goal of the argument but only its support. At the start, then,
one should reply with regard to an ambiguity, whether of a term
or of a phrase, in this manner, that in one sense it is so, and in
another not so, as e.g. that speaking of the silent is in one
sense possible but in another not possible: also that in one
sense one should do what must needs be done, but not in
another: for what must needs be bears a number of senses. If,
576
20
It is evident also how one should solve those refutations that
depend upon the division and combination of words: for if the
expression means something different when divided and when
combined, as soon as ones opponent draws his conclusion one
should take the expression in the contrary way. All such
expressions as the following depend upon the combination or
division of the words: Was X being beaten with that with which
you saw him being beaten? and Did you see him being beaten
with that with which he was being beaten? This fallacy has also
in it an element of amphiboly in the questions, but it really
depends upon combination. For the meaning that depends
upon the division of the words is not really a double meaning
(for the expression when divided is not the same), unless also
the word that is pronounced, according to its breathing, as eros
and eros is a case of double meaning. (In writing, indeed, a word
577
same point the solution is the same, whereas this will not fit all
cases of the kind nor yet all ways of putting the questions: it is
valid against the questioner, but not against his argument.
21
Accentuation gives rise to no fallacious arguments, either as
written or as spoken, except perhaps some few that might be
made up; e.g. the following argument. Is ou katalueis a house?
Yes. Is then ou katalueis the negation of katalueis? Yes. But
you said that ou katalueis is a house: therefore the house is a
negation. How one should solve this, is clear: for the word does
not mean the same when spoken with an acuter and when
spoken with a graver accent.
22
It is clear also how one must meet those fallacies that depend
on the identical expressions of things that are not identical,
seeing that we are in possession of the kinds of predications.
For the one man, say, has granted, when asked, that a term
denoting a substance does not belong as an attribute, while the
other has shown that some attribute belongs which is in the
Category of Relation or of Quantity, but is usually thought to
denote a substance because of its expression; e.g. in the
following argument: Is it possible to be doing and to have done
the same thing at the same time? No. But, you see, it is surely
possible to be seeing and to have seen the same thing at the
same time, and in the same aspect. Again, Is any mode of
579
23
It is a general rule in dealing with arguments that depend on
language that the solution always follows the opposite of the
point on which the argument turns: e.g. if the argument
depends upon combination, then the solution consists in
division; if upon division, then in combination. Again, if it
depends on an acute accent, the solution is a grave accent; if on
a grave accent, it is an acute. If it depends on ambiguity, one can
solve it by using the opposite term; e.g. if you find yourself
calling something inanimate, despite your previous denial that
it was so, show in what sense it is alive: if, on the other hand,
one has declared it to be inanimate and the sophist has proved
it to be animate, say how it is inanimate. Likewise also in a case
of amphiboly. If the argument depends on likeness of
expression, the opposite will be the solution. Could a man give
what he has not got? No, not what he has not got; but he could
give it in a way in which he has not got it, e.g. one die by itself.
583
24
In dealing with arguments that depend on Accident, one and
the same solution meets all cases. For since it is indeterminate
when an attribute should be ascribed to a thing, in cases where
it belongs to the accident of the thing, and since in some cases
it is generally agreed and people admit that it belongs, while in
others they deny that it need belong, we should therefore, as
soon as the conclusion has been drawn, say in answer to them
all alike, that there is no need for such an attribute to belong.
One must, however, be prepared to adduce an example of the
kind of attribute meant. All arguments such as the following
depend upon Accident. Do you know what I am going to ask
you? you know the man who is approaching, or the man in the
mask? Is the statue your work of art? or Is the dog your
father? Is the product of a small number with a small number
a small number? For it is evident in all these cases that there is
no necessity for the attribute which is true of the things
accident to be true of the thing as well. For only to things that
are indistinguishable and one in essence is it generally agreed
that all the same attributes belong; whereas in the case of a
good thing, to be good is not the same as to be going to be the
subject of a question; nor in the case of a man approaching, or
wearing a mask, is to be approaching the same thing as to be
Coriscus, so that suppose I know Coriscus, but do not know the
man who is approaching, it still isnt the case that I both know
584
and do not know the same man; nor, again, if this is mine and is
also a work of art, is it therefore my work of art, but my property
or thing or something else. (The solution is after the same
manner in the other cases as well.)
Some solve these refutations by demolishing the original
proposition asked: for they say that it is possible to know and
not to know the same thing, only not in the same respect:
accordingly, when they dont know the man who is coming
towards them, but do know Corsicus, they assert that they do
know and dont know the same object, but not in the same
respect. Yet, as we have already remarked, the correction of
arguments that depend upon the same point ought to be the
same, whereas this one will not stand if one adopts the same
principle in regard not to knowing something, but to being, or to
being is a in a certain state, e.g. suppose that X is father, and is
also yours: for if in some cases this is true and it is possible to
know and not to know the same thing, yet with that case the
solution stated has nothing to do. Certainly there is nothing to
prevent the same argument from having a number of flaws; but
it is not the exposition of any and every fault that constitutes a
solution: for it is possible for a man to show that a false
conclusion has been proved, but not to show on what it
depends, e.g. in the case of Zenos argument to prove that
motion is impossible. So that even if any one were to try to
establish that this doctrine is an impossible one, he still is
mistaken, and even if he proved his case ten thousand times
over, still this is no solution of Zenos argument: for the solution
was all along an exposition of false reasoning, showing on what
its falsity depends. If then he has not proved his case, or is
trying to establish even a true proposition, or a false one, in a
false manner, to point this out is a true solution. Possibly,
indeed, the present suggestion may very well apply in some
cases: but in these cases, at any rate, not even this would be
generally agreed: for he knows both that Coriscus is Coriscus
585
586
25
Those arguments which depend upon an expression that is
valid of a particular thing, or in a particular respect, or place, or
manner, or relation, and not valid absolutely, should be solved
by considering the conclusion in relation to its contradictory, to
see if any of these things can possibly have happened to it. For
it is impossible for contraries and opposites and an affirmative
and a negative to belong to the same thing absolutely; there is,
however, nothing to prevent each from belonging in a particular
respect or relation or manner, or to prevent one of them from
belonging in a particular respect and the other absolutely. So
that if this one belongs absolutely and that one in a particular
respect, there is as yet no refutation. This is a feature one has to
find in the conclusion by examining it in comparison with its
contradictory.
587
588
589
26
Refutations that depend on the definition of a refutation must,
according to the plan sketched above, be met by comparing
together the conclusion with its contradictory, and seeing that it
shall involve the same attribute in the same respect and
relation and manner and time. If this additional question be put
at the start, you should not admit that it is impossible for the
same thing to be both double and not double, but grant that it is
possible, only not in such a way as was agreed to constitute a
refutation of your case. All the following arguments depend
upon a point of that kind. Does a man who knows A to be A,
know the thing called A? and in the same way, is one who is
ignorant that A is A ignorant of the thing called A? Yes. But
one who knows that Coriscus is Coriscus might be ignorant of
the fact that he is musical, so that he both knows and is
ignorant of the same thing. Is a thing four cubits long greater
than a thing three cubits long? Yes. But a thing might grow
from three to four cubits in length; now what is greater is
greater than a less: accordingly the thing in question will be
both greater and less than itself in the same respect.
27
As to refutations that depend on begging and assuming the
original point to be proved, suppose the nature of the question
to be obvious, one should not grant it, even though it be a view
generally held, but should tell him the truth. Suppose, however,
that it escapes one, then, thanks to the badness of arguments of
that kind, one should make ones error recoil upon the
questioner, and say that he has brought no argument: for a
590
28
Also, those refutations that bring one to their conclusion
through the consequent you should show up in the course of
the argument itself. The mode in which consequences follow is
twofold. For the argument either is that as the universal follows
on its particular as (e.g.) animal follows from man so does
the particular on its universal: for the claim is made that if A is
always found with B, then B also is always found with A. Or else
it proceeds by way of the opposites of the terms involved: for if
A follows B, it is claimed that As opposite will follow Bs
opposite. On this latter claim the argument of Melissus also
depends: for he claims that because that which has come to be
has a beginning, that which has not come to be has none, so
that if the heaven has not come to be, it is also eternal. But that
is not so; for the sequence is vice versa.
29
In the case of any refutations whose reasoning depends on
some addition, look and see if upon its subtraction the
absurdity follows none the less: and then if so, the answerer
should point this out, and say that he granted the addition not
591
because he really thought it, but for the sake of the argument,
whereas the questioner has not used it for the purpose of his
argument at all.
30
To meet those refutations which make several questions into
one, one should draw a distinction between them straight away
at the start. For a question must be single to which there is a
single answer, so that one must not affirm or deny several
things of one thing, nor one thing of many, but one of one. But
just as in the case of ambiguous terms, an attribute belongs to a
term sometimes in both its senses, and sometimes in neither,
so that a simple answer does one, as it happens, no harm
despite the fact that the question is not simple, so it is in these
cases of double questions too. Whenever, then, the several
attributes belong to the one subject, or the one to the many, the
man who gives a simple answer encounters no obstacle even
though he has committed this mistake: but whenever an
attribute belongs to one subject but not to the other, or there is
a question of a number of attributes belonging to a number of
subjects and in one sense both belong to both, while in another
sense, again, they do not, then there is trouble, so that one must
beware of this. Thus (e.g.) in the following arguments:
Supposing to be good and B evil, you will, if you give a single
answer about both, be compelled to say that it is true to call
these good, and that it is true to call them evil and likewise to
call them neither good nor evil (for each of them has not each
character), so that the same thing will be both good and evil and
neither good nor evil. Also, since everything is the same as itself
and different from anything else, inasmuch as the man who
answers double questions simply can be made to say that
592
31
With regard to those who draw one into repeating the same
thing a number of times, it is clear that one must not grant that
predications of relative terms have any meaning in abstraction
by themselves, e.g. that double is a significant term apart from
the whole phrase double of half merely on the ground that it
figures in it. For ten figures in ten minus one and in not do,
and generally the affirmation in the negation; but for all that,
suppose any one were to say, This is not white, he does not say
that it is white. The bare word double, one may perhaps say,
has not even any meaning at all, any more than has the in the
half: and even if it has a meaning, yet it has not the same
meaning as in the combination. Nor is knowledge the same
thing in a specific branch of it (suppose it, e.g. to be medical
593
32
With regard to solecisms, we have previously said what it is that
appears to bring them about; the method of their solution will
be clear in the course of the arguments themselves. Solecism is
the result aimed at in all arguments of the following kind: Is a
thing truly that which you truly call it? Yes. But, speaking of a
stone, you call him real: therefore of a stone it follows that him
is real. No: rather, talking of a stone means not saying which
but whom, and not that but him. If, then, any one were to
ask, Is a stone him whom you truly call him? he would be
generally thought not to be speaking good Greek, any more than
if he were to ask, Is he what you call her? Speak in this way of
a stick or any neuter word, and the difference does not break
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595
was that you understand that, not of that, of which you have
understanding, so that you understand not of a stone, but the
stone.
Thus that arguments of this kind do not prove solecism but
merely appear to do so, and both why they so appear and how
you should meet them, is clear from what has been said.
33
We must also observe that of all the arguments aforesaid it is
easier with some to see why and where the reasoning leads the
hearer astray, while with others it is more difficult, though often
they are the same arguments as the former. For we must call an
argument the same if it depends upon the same point; but the
same argument is apt to be thought by some to depend on
diction, by others on accident, and by others on something else,
because each of them, when worked with different terms, is not
so clear as it was. Accordingly, just as in fallacies that depend
on ambiguity, which are generally thought to be the silliest form
of fallacy, some are clear even to the man in the street (for
humorous phrases nearly all depend on diction; e.g. The man
got the cart down from the stand; and Where are you bound?
To the yard arm; and Which cow will calve afore? Neither, but
both behind; and Is the North wind clear? No, indeed; for it
has murdered the beggar and the merchant. Is he a Good
enough-King? No, indeed; a Rob-son: and so with the great
majority of the rest as well), while others appear to elude the
most expert (and it is a symptom of this that they often fight
about their terms, e.g. whether the meaning of Being and One
is the same in all their applications or different; for some think
that Being and One mean the same; while others solve the
596
34
As to the number, then, and kind of sources whence fallacies
arise in discussion, and how we are to show that our opponent
is committing a fallacy and make him utter paradoxes;
moreover, by the use of what materials solescism is brought
598
about, and how to question and what is the way to arrange the
questions; moreover, as to the question what use is served by all
arguments of this kind, and concerning the answerers part,
both as a whole in general, and in particular how to solve
arguments and solecisms on all these things let the foregoing
discussion suffice. It remains to recall our original proposal and
to bring our discussion to a close with a few words upon it.
Our programme was, then, to discover some faculty of
reasoning about any theme put before us from the most
generally accepted premisses that there are. For that is the
essential task of the art of discussion (dialectic) and of
examination (peirastic). Inasmuch, however, as it is annexed to
it, on account of the near presence of the art of sophistry
(sophistic), not only to be able to conduct an examination
dialectically but also with a show of knowledge, we therefore
proposed for our treatise not only the aforesaid aim of being
able to exact an account of any view, but also the aim of
ensuring that in standing up to an argument we shall defend
our thesis in the same manner by means of views as generally
held as possible. The reason of this we have explained; for this,
too, was why Socrates used to ask questions and not to answer
them; for he used to confess that he did not know. We have
made clear, in the course of what precedes, the number both of
the points with reference to which, and of the materials from
which, this will be accomplished, and also from what sources
we can become well supplied with these: we have shown,
moreover, how to question or arrange the questioning as a
whole, and the problems concerning the answers and solutions
to be used against the reasonings of the questioner. We have
also cleared up the problems concerning all other matters that
belong to the same inquiry into arguments. In addition to this
we have been through the subject of Fallacies, as we have
already stated above.
599
600
601
Aristotle Physics
[Translated by R. P. Hardie and R. K. Gaye]
Book I
1
When the objects of an inquiry, in any department, have
principles, conditions, or elements, it is through acquaintance
with these that knowledge, that is to say scientific knowledge, is
attained. For we do not think that we know a thing until we are
acquainted with its primary conditions or first principles, and
have carried our analysis as far as its simplest elements. Plainly
therefore in the science of Nature, as in other branches of study,
our first task will be to try to determine what relates to its
principles.
The natural way of doing this is to start from the things which
are more knowable and obvious to us and proceed towards
those which are clearer and more knowable by nature; for the
same things are not knowable relatively to us and knowable
without qualification. So in the present inquiry we must follow
this method and advance from what is more obscure by nature,
but clearer to us, towards what is more clear and more
knowable by nature.
Now what is to us plain and obvious at first is rather confused
masses, the elements and principles of which become known to
us later by analysis. Thus we must advance from generalities to
particulars; for it is a whole that is best known to senseperception, and a generality is a kind of whole, comprehending
602
many things within it, like parts. Much the same thing happens
in the relation of the name to the formula. A name, e.g. round,
means vaguely a sort of whole: its definition analyses this into
its particular senses. Similarly a child begins by calling all men
father, and all women mother, but later on distinguishes each
of them.
2
The principles in question must be either (a) one or (b) more
than one. If (a) one, it must be either (i) motionless, as
Parmenides and Melissus assert, or (ii) in motion, as the
physicists hold, some declaring air to be the first principle,
others water. If (b) more than one, then either (i) a finite or (ii)
an infinite plurality. If (i) finite (but more than one), then either
two or three or four or some other number. If (ii) infinite, then
either as Democritus believed one in kind, but differing in shape
or form; or different in kind and even contrary.
A similar inquiry is made by those who inquire into the number
of existents: for they inquire whether the ultimate constituents
of existing things are one or many, and if many, whether a finite
or an infinite plurality. So they too are inquiring whether the
principle or element is one or many.
Now to investigate whether Being is one and motionless is not a
contribution to the science of Nature. For just as the geometer
has nothing more to say to one who denies the principles of his
science this being a question for a different science or for or
common to all so a man investigating principles cannot argue
with one who denies their existence. For if Being is just one, and
one in the way mentioned, there is a principle no longer, since a
principle must be the principle of some thing or things.
603
604
605
606
3
If, then, we approach the thesis in this way it seems impossible
for all things to be one. Further, the arguments they use to prove
their position are not difficult to expose. For both of them
reason contentiously I mean both Melissus and Parmenides.
[Their premisses are false and their conclusions do not follow.
Or rather the argument of Melissus is gross and palpable and
offers no difficulty at all: admit one ridiculous proposition and
the rest follows a simple enough proceeding.] The fallacy of
Melissus is obvious. For he supposes that the assumption what
has come into being always has a beginning justifies the
assumption what has not come into being has no beginning.
Then this also is absurd, that in every case there should be a
beginning of the thing not of the time and not only in the case
of coming to be in the full sense but also in the case of coming
to have a quality as if change never took place suddenly.
Again, does it follow that Being, if one, is motionless? Why
should it not move, the whole of it within itself, as parts of it do
which are unities, e.g. this water? Again, why is qualitative
change impossible? But, further, Being cannot be one in form,
though it may be in what it is made of. (Even some of the
physicists hold it to be one in the latter way, though not in the
former.) Man obviously differs from horse in form, and
contraries from each other.
The same kind of argument holds good against Parmenides
also, besides any that may apply specially to his view: the
answer to him being that this is not true and that does not
follow. His assumption that one is used in a single sense only is
false, because it is used in several. His conclusion does not
follow, because if we take only white things, and if white has a
single meaning, none the less what is white will be many and
not one. For what is white will not be one either in the sense
that it is continuous or in the sense that it must be defined in
607
608
609
4
The physicists on the other hand have two modes of
explanation.
The first set make the underlying body one either one of the
three or something else which is denser than fire and rarer than
air then generate everything else from this, and obtain
multiplicity by condensation and rarefaction. Now these are
contraries, which may be generalized into excess and defect.
(Compare Platos Great and Small except that he make these
his matter, the one his form, while the others treat the one
which underlies as matter and the contraries as differentiae, i.e.
forms).
The second set assert that the contrarieties are contained in the
one and emerge from it by segregation, for example
Anaximander and also all those who assert that what is is one
and many, like Empedocles and Anaxagoras; for they too
produce other things from their mixture by segregation. These
differ, however, from each other in that the former imagines a
cycle of such changes, the latter a single series. Anaxagoras
again made both his homceomerous substances and his
610
611
612
5
All thinkers then agree in making the contraries principles, both
those who describe the All as one and unmoved (for even
613
614
not into any chance thing other than musical, but into
unmusical or any intermediate state there may be.
The same holds of other things also: even things which are not
simple but complex follow the same principle, but the opposite
state has not received a name, so we fail to notice the fact. What
is in tune must come from what is not in tune, and vice versa;
the tuned passes into untunedness and not into any
untunedness, but into the corresponding opposite. It does not
matter whether we take attunement, order, or composition for
our illustration; the principle is obviously the same in all, and in
fact applies equally to the production of a house, a statue, or
any other complex. A house comes from certain things in a
certain state of separation instead of conjunction, a statue (or
any other thing that has been shaped) from shapelessness
each of these objects being partly order and partly composition.
If then this is true, everything that comes to be or passes away
from, or passes into, its contrary or an intermediate state. But
the intermediates are derived from the contraries colours, for
instance, from black and white. Everything, therefore, that
comes to be by a natural process is either a contrary or a
product of contraries.
Up to this point we have practically had most of the other
writers on the subject with us, as I have said already: for all of
them identify their elements, and what they call their
principles, with the contraries, giving no reason indeed for the
theory, but contrained as it were by the truth itself. They differ,
however, from one another in that some assume contraries
which are more primary, others contraries which are less so:
some those more knowable in the order of explanation, others
those more familiar to sense. For some make hot and cold, or
again moist and dry, the conditions of becoming; while others
615
make odd and even, or again Love and Strife; and these differ
from each other in the way mentioned.
Hence their principles are in one sense the same, in another
different; different certainly, as indeed most people think, but
the same inasmuch as they are analogous; for all are taken from
the same table of columns, some of the pairs being wider,
others narrower in extent. In this way then their theories are
both the same and different, some better, some worse; some, as
I have said, take as their contraries what is more knowable in
the order of explanation, others what is more familiar to sense.
(The universal is more knowable in the order of explanation, the
particular in the order of sense: for explanation has to do with
the universal, sense with the particular.) The great and the
small, for example, belong to the former class, the dense and
the rare to the latter.
It is clear then that our principles must be contraries.
6
The next question is whether the principles are two or three or
more in number.
One they cannot be, for there cannot be one contrary. Nor can
they be innumerable, because, if so, Being will not be knowable:
and in any one genus there is only one contrariety, and
substance is one genus: also a finite number is sufficient, and a
finite number, such as the principles of Empedocles, is better
than an infinite multitude; for Empedocles professes to obtain
from his principles all that Anaxagoras obtains from his
innumerable principles. Lastly, some contraries are more
primary than others, and some arise from others for example
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sweet and bitter, white and black whereas the principles must
always remain principles.
This will suffice to show that the principles are neither one nor
innumerable.
Granted, then, that they are a limited number, it is plausible to
suppose them more than two. For it is difficult to see how either
density should be of such a nature as to act in any way on rarity
or rarity on density. The same is true of any other pair of
contraries; for Love does not gather Strife together and make
things out of it, nor does Strife make anything out of Love, but
both act on a third thing different from both. Some indeed
assume more than one such thing from which they construct
the world of nature.
Other objections to the view that it is not necessary to assume a
third principle as a substratum may be added. (1) We do not find
that the contraries constitute the substance of any thing. But
what is a first principle ought not to be the predicate of any
subject. If it were, there would be a principle of the supposed
principle: for the subject is a principle, and prior presumably to
what is predicated of it. Again (2) we hold that a substance is
not contrary to another substance. How then can substance be
derived from what are not substances? Or how can nonsubstances be prior to substance?
If then we accept both the former argument and this one, we
must, to preserve both, assume a third somewhat as the
substratum of the contraries, such as is spoken of by those who
describe the All as one nature water or fire or what is
intermediate between them. What is intermediate seems
preferable; for fire, earth, air, and water are already involved
with pairs of contraries. There is, therefore, much to be said for
those who make the underlying substance different from these
four; of the rest, the next best choice is air, as presenting
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7
We will now give our own account, approaching the question
first with reference to becoming in its widest sense: for we shall
be following the natural order of inquiry if we speak first of
common
characteristics,
and
then
investigate
the
characteristics of special cases.
We say that one thing comes to be from another thing, and one
sort of thing from another sort of thing, both in the case of
simple and of complex things. I mean the following. We can say
(1) man becomes musical, (2) what is not-musical becomes
musical, or (3), the not-musical man becomes a musical man.
Now what becomes in (1) and (2) man and not musical I
call simple, and what each becomes musical simple also.
But when (3) we say the not-musical man becomes a musical
man, both what becomes and what it becomes are complex.
As regards one of these simple things that become we say not
only this becomes so-and-so, but also from being this, comes
to be so-and-so, as from being not-musical comes to be
musical; as regards the other we do not say this in all cases, as
we do not say (1) from being a man he came to be musical but
only the man became musical.
When a simple thing is said to become something, in one case
(1) it survives through the process, in the other (2) it does not.
For man remains a man and is such even when he becomes
musical, whereas what is not musical or is unmusical does not
continue to exist, either simply or combined with the subject.
These distinctions drawn, one can gather from surveying the
various cases of becoming in the way we are describing that, as
we say, there must always be an underlying something, namely
that which becomes, and that this, though always one
numerically, in form at least is not one. (By that I mean that it
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621
in the process.) And the positive form is one the order, the
acquired art of music, or any similar predicate.
There is a sense, therefore, in which we must declare the
principles to be two, and a sense in which they are three; a
sense in which the contraries are the principles say for
example the musical and the unmusical, the hot and the cold,
the tuned and the untuned and a sense in which they are not,
since it is impossible for the contraries to be acted on by each
other. But this difficulty also is solved by the fact that the
substratum is different from the contraries, for it is itself not a
contrary. The principles therefore are, in a way, not more in
number than the contraries, but as it were two, nor yet precisely
two, since there is a difference of essential nature, but three. For
to be man is different from to be unmusical, and to be
unformed from to be bronze.
We have now stated the number of the principles of natural
objects which are subject to generation, and how the number is
reached: and it is clear that there must be a substratum for the
contraries, and that the contraries must be two. (Yet in another
way of putting it this is not necessary, as one of the contraries
will serve to effect the change by its successive absence and
presence.)
The underlying nature is an object of scientific knowledge, by
an analogy. For as the bronze is to the statue, the wood to the
bed, or the matter and the formless before receiving form to any
thing which has form, so is the underlying nature to substance,
i.e. the this or existent.
This then is one principle (though not one or existent in the
same sense as the this), and the definition was one as we
agreed; then further there is its contrary, the privation. In what
sense these are two, and in what sense more, has been stated
above. Briefly, we explained first that only the contraries were
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8
We will now proceed to show that the difficulty of the early
thinkers, as well as our own, is solved in this way alone.
The first of those who studied science were misled in their
search for truth and the nature of things by their inexperience,
which as it were thrust them into another path. So they say that
none of the things that are either comes to be or passes out of
existence, because what comes to be must do so either from
what is or from what is not, both of which are impossible. For
what is cannot come to be (because it is already), and from what
is not nothing could have come to be (because something must
be present as a substratum). So too they exaggerated the
consequence of this, and went so far as to deny even the
existence of a plurality of things, maintaining that only Being
itself is. Such then was their opinion, and such the reason for its
adoption.
Our explanation on the other hand is that the phrases
something comes to be from what is or from what is not, what
is not or what is does something or has something done to it or
623
becomes some particular thing, are to be taken (in the first way
of putting our explanation) in the same sense as a doctor does
something or has something done to him, is or becomes
something from being a doctor. These expressions may be
taken in two senses, and so too, clearly, may from being, and
being acts or is acted on. A doctor builds a house, not qua
doctor, but qua housebuilder, and turns gray, not qua doctor, but
qua dark-haired. On the other hand he doctors or fails to doctor
qua doctor. But we are using words most appropriately when we
say that a doctor does something or undergoes something, or
becomes something from being a doctor, if he does, undergoes,
or becomes qua doctor. Clearly then also to come to be so-andso from not-being means qua not-being.
It was through failure to make this distinction that those
thinkers gave the matter up, and through this error that they
went so much farther astray as to suppose that nothing else
comes to be or exists apart from Being itself, thus doing away
with all becoming.
We ourselves are in agreement with them in holding that
nothing can be said without qualification to come from what is
not. But nevertheless we maintain that a thing may come to be
from what is not that is, in a qualified sense. For a thing
comes to be from the privation, which in its own nature is notbeing, this not surviving as a constituent of the result. Yet this
causes surprise, and it is thought impossible that something
should come to be in the way described from what is not.
In the same way we maintain that nothing comes to be from
being, and that being does not come to be except in a qualified
sense. In that way, however, it does, just as animal might come
to be from animal, and an animal of a certain kind from an
animal of a certain kind. Thus, suppose a dog to come to be
from a horse. The dog would then, it is true, come to be from
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9
Others, indeed, have apprehended the nature in question, but
not adequately.
In the first place they allow that a thing may come to be
without qualification from not being, accepting on this point
the statement of Parmenides. Secondly, they think that if the
substratum is one numerically, it must have also only a single
potentiality which is a very different thing.
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which it should come and which should persist in it; but this is
its own special nature, so that it will be before coming to be. (For
my definition of matter is just this-the primary substratum of
each thing, from which it comes to be without qualification, and
which persists in the result.) And if it ceases to be it will pass
into that at the last, so it will have ceased to be before ceasing
to be.
The accurate determination of the first principle in respect of
form, whether it is one or many and what it is or what they are,
is the province of the primary type of science; so these
questions may stand over till then. But of the natural, i.e.
perishable, forms we shall speak in the expositions which
follow.
The above, then, may be taken as sufficient to establish that
there are principles and what they are and how many there are.
Now let us make a fresh start and proceed.
Book II
1
Of things that exist, some exist by nature, some from other
causes.
627
By nature the animals and their parts exist, and the plants and
the simple bodies (earth, fire, air, water) for we say that these
and the like exist by nature.
All the things mentioned present a feature in which they differ
from things which are not constituted by nature. Each of them
has within itself a principle of motion and of stationariness (in
respect of place, or of growth and decrease, or by way of
alteration). On the other hand, a bed and a coat and anything
else of that sort, qua receiving these designations i.e. in so far as
they are products of art have no innate impulse to change. But
in so far as they happen to be composed of stone or of earth or
of a mixture of the two, they do have such an impulse, and just
to that extent which seems to indicate that nature is a source or
cause of being moved and of being at rest in that to which it
belongs primarily, in virtue of itself and not in virtue of a
concomitant attribute.
I say not in virtue of a concomitant attribute, because (for
instance) a man who is a doctor might cure himself.
Nevertheless it is not in so far as he is a patient that he
possesses the art of medicine: it merely has happened that the
same man is doctor and patient and that is why these
attributes are not always found together. So it is with all other
artificial products. None of them has in itself the source of its
own production. But while in some cases (for instance houses
and the other products of manual labour) that principle is in
something else external to the thing, in others those which may
cause a change in themselves in virtue of a concomitant
attribute it lies in the things themselves (but not in virtue of
what they are).
Nature then is what has been stated. Things have a
naturewhich have a principle of this kind. Each of them is a
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629
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figure is art, then on the same principle the shape of man is his
nature. For man is born from man.
We also speak of a things nature as being exhibited in the
process of growth by which its nature is attained. The nature in
this sense is not like doctoring, which leads not to the art of
doctoring but to health. Doctoring must start from the art, not
lead to it. But it is not in this way that nature (in the one sense)
is related to nature (in the other). What grows qua growing
grows from something into something. Into what then does it
grow? Not into that from which it arose but into that to which it
tends. The shape then is nature.
Shape and nature, it should be added, are in two senses. For
the privation too is in a way form. But whether in unqualified
coming to be there is privation, i.e. a contrary to what comes to
be, we must consider later.
2
We have distinguished, then, the different ways in which the
term nature is used.
The next point to consider is how the mathematician differs
from the physicist. Obviously physical bodies contain surfaces
and volumes, lines and points, and these are the subject-matter
of mathematics.
Further, is astronomy different from physics or a department of
it? It seems absurd that the physicist should be supposed to
know the nature of sun or moon, but not to know any of their
essential attributes, particularly as the writers on physics
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633
3
Now that we have established these distinctions, we must
proceed to consider causes, their character and number.
Knowledge is the object of our inquiry, and men do not think
they know a thing till they have grasped the why of (which is
to grasp its primary cause). So clearly we too must do this as
regards both coming to be and passing away and every kind of
physical change, in order that, knowing their principles, we may
try to refer to these principles each of our problems.
In one sense, then, (1) that out of which a thing comes to be and
which persists, is called cause, e.g. the bronze of the statue, the
silver of the bowl, and the genera of which the bronze and the
silver are species.
In another sense (2) the form or the archetype, i.e. the
statement of the essence, and its genera, are called causes (e.g.
of the octave the relation of 2:1, and generally number), and the
parts in the definition.
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635
products, fire, &c., of bodies, the parts of the whole, and the
premisses of the conclusion, in the sense of that from which.
Of these pairs the one set are causes in the sense of substratum,
e.g. the parts, the other set in the sense of essence the whole
and the combination and the form. But the seed and the doctor
and the adviser, and generally the maker, are all sources
whence the change or stationariness originates, while the
others are causes in the sense of the end or the good of the rest;
for that for the sake of which means what is best and the end
of the things that lead up to it. (Whether we say the good itself
or the apparent good makes no difference.)
Such then is the number and nature of the kinds of cause.
Now the modes of causation are many, though when brought
under heads they too can be reduced in number. For cause is
used in many senses and even within the same kind one may
be prior to another (e.g. the doctor and the expert are causes of
health, the relation 2:1 and number of the octave), and always
what is inclusive to what is particular. Another mode of
causation is the incidental and its genera, e.g. in one way
Polyclitus, in another sculptor is the cause of a statue,
because being Polyclitus and sculptor are incidentally
conjoined. Also the classes in which the incidental attribute is
included; thus a man could be said to be the cause of a statue
or, generally, a living creature. An incidental attribute too may
be more or less remote, e.g. suppose that a pale man or a
musical man were said to be the cause of the statue.
All causes, both proper and incidental, may be spoken of either
as potential or as actual; e.g. the cause of a house being built is
either house-builder or house-builder building.
Similar distinctions can be made in the things of which the
causes are causes, e.g. of this statue or of statue or of image
generally, of this bronze or of bronze or of material generally.
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4
But chance also and spontaneity are reckoned among causes:
many things are said both to be and to come to be as a result of
chance and spontaneity. We must inquire therefore in what
manner chance and spontaneity are present among the causes
enumerated, and whether they are the same or different, and
generally what chance and spontaneity are.
Some people even question whether they are real or not. They
say that nothing happens by chance, but that everything which
we ascribe to chance or spontaneity has some definite cause,
e.g. coming by chance into the market and finding there a man
whom one wanted but did not expect to meet is due to ones
wish to go and buy in the market. Similarly in other cases of
chance it is always possible, they maintain, to find something
which is the cause; but not chance, for if chance were real, it
would seem strange indeed, and the question might be raised,
why on earth none of the wise men of old in speaking of the
causes of generation and decay took account of chance; whence
it would seem that they too did not believe that anything is by
chance. But there is a further circumstance that is surprising.
Many things both come to be and are by chance and
spontaneity, and although know that each of them can be
ascribed to some cause (as the old argument said which denied
chance), nevertheless they speak of some of these things as
happening by chance and others not. For this reason also they
ought to have at least referred to the matter in some way or
other.
Certainly the early physicists found no place for chance among
the causes which they recognized love, strife, mind, fire, or the
like. This is strange, whether they supposed that there is no
such thing as chance or whether they thought there is but
omitted to mention it and that too when they sometimes used
638
it, as Empedocles does when he says that the air is not always
separated into the highest region, but as it may chance. At any
rate he says in his cosmogony that it happened to run that way
at that time, but it often ran otherwise. He tells us also that
most of the parts of animals came to be by chance.
There are some too who ascribe this heavenly sphere and all
the worlds to spontaneity. They say that the vortex arose
spontaneously, i.e. the motion that separated and arranged in
its present order all that exists. This statement might well cause
surprise. For they are asserting that chance is not responsible
for the existence or generation of animals and plants, nature or
mind or something of the kind being the cause of them (for it is
not any chance thing that comes from a given seed but an olive
from one kind and a man from another); and yet at the same
time they assert that the heavenly sphere and the divinest of
visible things arose spontaneously, having no such cause as is
assigned to animals and plants. Yet if this is so, it is a fact which
deserves to be dwelt upon, and something might well have been
said about it. For besides the other absurdities of the statement,
it is the more absurd that people should make it when they see
nothing coming to be spontaneously in the heavens, but much
happening by chance among the things which as they say are
not due to chance; whereas we should have expected exactly
the opposite.
Others there are who, indeed, believe that chance is a cause, but
that it is inscrutable to human intelligence, as being a divine
thing and full of mystery.
Thus we must inquire what chance and spontaneity are,
whether they are the same or different, and how they fit into
our division of causes.
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5
First then we observe that some things always come to pass in
the same way, and others for the most part. It is clearly of
neither of these that chance is said to be the cause, nor can the
effect of chance be identified with any of the things that come
to pass by necessity and always, or for the most part. But as
there is a third class of events besides these two events which
all say are by chance it is plain that there is such a thing as
chance and spontaneity; for we know that things of this kind
are due to chance and that things due to chance are of this
kind.
But, secondly, some events are for the sake of something, others
not. Again, some of the former class are in accordance with
deliberate intention, others not, but both are in the class of
things which are for the sake of something. Hence it is clear
that even among the things which are outside the necessary
and the normal, there are some in connexion withwhich the
phrase for the sake of something is applicable. (Events that are
for the sake of something include whatever may be done as a
result of thought or of nature.) Things of this kind, then, when
they come to pass incidental are said to be by chance. For just
as a thing is something either in virtue of itself or incidentally,
so may it be a cause. For instance, the housebuilding faculty is
in virtue of itself the cause of a house, whereas the pale or the
musical is the incidental cause. That which is per se cause of
the effect is determinate, but the incidental cause is
indeterminable, for the possible attributes of an individual are
innumerable. To resume then; when a thing of this kind comes
to pass among events which are for the sake of something, it is
said to be spontaneous or by chance. (The distinction between
the two must be made later for the present it is sufficient if it
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is plain that both are in the sphere of things done for the sake
of something.)
Example: A man is engaged in collecting subscriptions for a
feast. He would have gone to such and such a place for the
purpose of getting the money, if he had known. He actually
went there for another purpose and it was only incidentally that
he got his money by going there; and this was not due to the
fact that he went there as a rule or necessarily, nor is the end
effected (getting the money) a cause present in himself it
belongs to the class of things that are intentional and the result
of intelligent deliberation. It is when these conditions are
satisfied that the man is said to have gone by chance. If he had
gone of deliberate purpose and for the sake of this if he always
or normally went there when he was collecting payments he
would not be said to have gone by chance.
It is clear then that chance is an incidental cause in the sphere
of those actions for the sake of something which involve
purpose. Intelligent reflection, then, and chance are in the same
sphere, for purpose implies intelligent reflection.
It is necessary, no doubt, that the causes of what comes to pass
by chance be indefinite; and that is why chance is supposed to
belong to the class of the indefinite and to be inscrutable to
man, and why it might be thought that, in a way, nothing occurs
by chance. For all these statements are correct, because they are
well grounded. Things do, in a way, occur by chance, for they
occur incidentally and chance is an incidental cause. But strictly
it is not the cause without qualification of anything; for
instance, a housebuilder is the cause of a house; incidentally, a
fluteplayer may be so.
And the causes of the mans coming and getting the money
(when he did not come for the sake of that) are innumerable. He
may have wished to see somebody or been following somebody
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6
They differ in that spontaneity is the wider term. Every result
of chance is from what is spontaneous, but not everything that
is from what is spontaneous is from chance.
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the bowels; if this does not follow after walking, we say that we
have walked in vain and that the walking was vain. This
implies that what is naturally the means to an end is in vain,
when it does not effect the end towards which it was the
natural means for it would be absurd for a man to say that he
had bathed in vain because the sun was not eclipsed, since the
one was not done with a view to the other. Thus the
spontaneous is even according to its derivation the case in
which the thing itself happens in vain. The stone that struck the
man did not fall for the purpose of striking him; therefore it fell
spontaneously, because it might have fallen by the action of an
agent and for the purpose of striking. The difference between
spontaneity and what results by chance is greatest in things
that come to be by nature; for when anything comes to be
contrary to nature, we do not say that it came to be by chance,
but by spontaneity. Yet strictly this too is different from the
spontaneous proper; for the cause of the latter is external, that
of the former internal.
We have now explained what chance is and what spontaneity
is, and in what they differ from each other. Both belong to the
mode of causation source of change, for either some natural or
some intelligent agent is always the cause; but in this sort of
causation the number of possible causes is infinite.
Spontaneity and chance are causes of effects which though they
might result from intelligence or nature, have in fact been
caused by something incidentally. Now since nothing which is
incidental is prior to what is per se, it is clear that no incidental
cause can be prior to a cause per se. Spontaneity and chance,
therefore, are posterior to intelligence and nature. Hence,
however true it may be that the heavens are due to spontaneity,
it will still be true that intelligence and nature will be prior
causes of this All and of many things in it besides.
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7
It is clear then that there are causes, and that the number of
them is what we have stated. The number is the same as that of
the things comprehended under the question why. The why is
referred ultimately either (1), in things which do not involve
motion, e.g. in mathematics, to the what (to the definition of
straight line or commensurable, &c.), or (2) to what initiated a
motion, e.g. why did they go to war? because there had been a
raid; or (3) we are inquiring for the sake of what? that they
may rule; or (4), in the case of things that come into being, we
are looking for the matter. The causes, therefore, are these and
so many in number.
Now, the causes being four, it is the business of the physicist to
know about them all, and if he refers his problems back to all of
them, he will assign the why in the way proper to his science
the matter, the form, the mover, that for the sake of which. The
last three often coincide; for the what and that for the sake of
which are one, while the primary source of motion is the same
in species as these (for man generates man), and so too, in
general, are all things which cause movement by being
themselves moved; and such as are not of this kind are no
longer inside the province of physics, for they cause motion not
by possessing motion or a source of motion in themselves, but
being themselves incapable of motion. Hence there are three
branches of study, one of things which are incapable of motion,
the second of things in motion, but indestructible, the third of
destructible things.
The question why, then, is answered by reference to the
matter, to the form, and to the primary moving cause. For in
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8
We must explain then (1) that Nature belongs to the class of
causes which act for the sake of something; (2) about the
necessary and its place in physical problems, for all writers
ascribe things to this cause, arguing that since the hot and the
cold, &c., are of such and such a kind, therefore certain things
necessarily are and come to be and if they mention any other
cause (one his friendship and strife, another his mind), it is
only to touch on it, and then good-bye to it.
A difficulty presents itself: why should not nature work, not for
the sake of something, nor because it is better so, but just as the
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sky rains, not in order to make the corn grow, but of necessity?
What is drawn up must cool, and what has been cooled must
become water and descend, the result of this being that the
corn grows. Similarly if a mans crop is spoiled on the threshingfloor, the rain did not fall for the sake of this in order that the
crop might be spoiled but that result just followed. Why then
should it not be the same with the parts in nature, e.g. that our
teeth should come up of necessity the front teeth sharp, fitted
for tearing, the molars broad and useful for grinding down the
food since they did not arise for this end, but it was merely a
coincident result; and so with all other parts in which we
suppose that there is purpose? Wherever then all the parts
came about just what they would have been if they had come be
for an end, such things survived, being organized spontaneously
in a fitting way; whereas those which grew otherwise perished
and continue to perish, as Empedocles says his man-faced oxprogeny did.
Such are the arguments (and others of the kind) which may
cause difficulty on this point. Yet it is impossible that this
should be the true view. For teeth and all other natural things
either invariably or normally come about in a given way; but of
not one of the results of chance or spontaneity is this true. We
do not ascribe to chance or mere coincidence the frequency of
rain in winter, but frequent rain in summer we do; nor heat in
the dog-days, but only if we have it in winter. If then, it is agreed
that things are either the result of coincidence or for an end,
and these cannot be the result of coincidence or spontaneity, it
follows that they must be for an end; and that such things are
all due to nature even the champions of the theory which is
before us would agree. Therefore action for an end is present in
things which come to be and are by nature.
Further, where a series has a completion, all the preceding steps
are for the sake of that. Now surely as in intelligent action, so in
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As regards what is of necessity, we must ask whether the
necessity is hypothetical, or simple as well. The current view
places what is of necessity in the process of production, just as
if one were to suppose that the wall of a house necessarily
comes to be because what is heavy is naturally carried
downwards and what is light to the top, wherefore the stones
and foundations take the lowest place, with earth above
because it is lighter, and wood at the top of all as being the
lightest. Whereas, though the wall does not come to be without
these, it is not due to these, except as its material cause: it
comes to be for the sake of sheltering and guarding certain
things. Similarly in all other things which involve production for
an end; the product cannot come to be without things which
have a necessary nature, but it is not due to these (except as its
material); it comes to be for an end. For instance, why is a saw
such as it is? To effect so-and-so and for the sake of so-and-so.
This end, however, cannot be realized unless the saw is made of
iron. It is, therefore, necessary for it to be of iron, it we are to
have a saw and perform the operation of sawing. What is
necessary then, is necessary on a hypothesis; it is not a result
necessarily determined by antecedents. Necessity is in the
matter, while that for the sake of which is in the definition.
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come about unless the saw has teeth of a certain kind; and
these cannot be unless it is of iron. For in the definition too
there are some parts that are, as it were, its matter.
Book III
1
Nature has been defined as a principle of motion and change,
and it is the subject of our inquiry. We must therefore see that
we understand the meaning of motion; for if it were unknown,
the meaning of nature too would be unknown.
When we have determined the nature of motion, our next task
will be to attack in the same way the terms which are involved
in it. Now motion is supposed to belong to the class of things
which are continuous; and the infinite presents itself first in the
continuous that is how it comes about that infinite is often
used in definitions of the continuous (what is infinitely
divisible is continuous). Besides these, place, void, and time are
thought to be necessary conditions of motion.
Clearly, then, for these reasons and also because the attributes
mentioned are common to, and coextensive with, all the objects
of our science, we must first take each of them in hand and
discuss it. For the investigation of special attributes comes after
that of the common attributes.
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2
The soundness of this definition is evident both when we
consider the accounts of motion that the others have given, and
also from the difficulty of defining it otherwise.
One could not easily put motion and change in another genus
this is plain if we consider where some people put it; they
identify motion with or inequality or not being; but such
things are not necessarily moved, whether they are different or
unequal or non-existent; Nor is change either to or from
these rather than to or from their opposites.
The reason why they put motion into these genera is that it is
thought to be something indefinite, and the principles in the
second column are indefinite because they are privative: none
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3
The solution of the difficulty that is raised about the motion
whether it is in the movable is plain. It is the fulfilment of this
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What then Motion is, has been stated both generally and
particularly. It is not difficult to see how each of its types will be
defined alteration is the fulfillment of the alterable qua
alterable (or, more scientifically, the fulfilment of what can act
and what can be acted on, as such) generally and again in
each particular case, building, healing, &c. A similar definition
will apply to each of the other kinds of motion.
4
The science of nature is concerned with spatial magnitudes and
motion and time, and each of these at least is necessarily
infinite or finite, even if some things dealt with by the science
are not, e.g. a quality or a point it is not necessary perhaps
that such things should be put under either head. Hence it is
incumbent on the person who specializes in physics to discuss
the infinite and to inquire whether there is such a thing or not,
and, if there is, what it is.
The appropriateness to the science of this problem is clearly
indicated. All who have touched on this kind of science in a way
worth considering have formulated views about the infinite, and
indeed, to a man, make it a principle of things.
(1) Some, as the Pythagoreans and Plato, make the infinite a
principle in the sense of a self-subsistent substance, and not as
a mere attribute of some other thing. Only the Pythagoreans
place the infinite among the objects of sense (they do not regard
number as separable from these), and assert that what is
outside the heaven is infinite. Plato, on the other hand, holds
that there is no body outside (the Forms are not outside because
they are nowhere),yet that the infinite is present not only in the
objects of sense but in the Forms also.
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Further, the Pythagoreans identify the infinite with the even. For
this, they say, when it is cut off and shut in by the odd, provides
things with the element of infinity. An indication of this is what
happens with numbers. If the gnomons are placed round the
one, and without the one, in the one construction the figure
that results is always different, in the other it is always the
same. But Plato has two infinites, the Great and the Small.
The physicists, on the other hand, all of them, always regard the
infinite as an attribute of a substance which is different from it
and belongs to the class of the so-called elements water or air
or what is intermediate between them. Those who make them
limited in number never make them infinite in amount. But
those who make the elements infinite in number, as
Anaxagoras and Democritus do, say that the infinite is
continuous by contact compounded of the homogeneous parts
according to the one, of the seed-mass of the atomic shapes
according to the other.
Further, Anaxagoras held that any part is a mixture in the same
way as the All, on the ground of the observed fact that anything
comes out of anything. For it is probably for this reason that he
maintains that once upon a time all things were together. (This
flesh and this bone were together, and so of any thing: therefore
all things: and at the same time too.) For there is a beginning of
separation, not only for each thing, but for all. Each thing that
comes to be comes from a similar body, and there is a coming to
be of all things, though not, it is true, at the same time. Hence
there must also be an origin of coming to be. One such source
there is which he calls Mind, and Mind begins its work of
thinking from some starting-point. So necessarily all things
must have been together at a certain time, and must have
begun to be moved at a certain time.
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5
Now it is impossible that the infinite should be a thing which is
itself infinite, separable from sensible objects. If the infinite is
neither a magnitude nor an aggregate, but is itself a substance
and not an attribute, it will be indivisible; for the divisible must
be either a magnitude or an aggregate. But if indivisible, then
not infinite, except in the sense (1) in which the voice is
invisible. But this is not the sense in which it is used by those
who say that the infinite exists, nor that in which we are
investigating it, namely as (2) that which cannot be gone
through. But if the infinite exists as an attribute, it would not
be, qua infinite an element in substances, any more than the
invisible would be an element of speech, though the voice is
invisible.
Further, how can the infinite be itself any thing, unless both
number and magnitude, of which it is an essential attribute,
exist in that way? If they are not substances, a fortiori the
infinite is not.
It is plain, too, that the infinite cannot be an actual thing and a
substance and principle. For any part of it that is taken will be
infinite, if it has parts: for to be infinite and the infinite are
the same, if it is a substance and not predicated of a subject.
Hence it will be either indivisible or divisible into infinites. But
the same thing cannot be many infinites. (Yet just as part of air
is air, so a part of the infinite would be infinite, if it is supposed
to be a substance and principle.) Therefore the infinite must be
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heavy rests at the centre and the earth is at the centre, similarly
the infinite also would rest in itself, not because it is infinite
and fixes itself, but owing to some other cause.
Another difficulty emerges at the same time. Any part of the
infinite body ought to remain at rest. Just as the infinite
remains at rest in itself because it fixes itself, so too any part of
it you may take will remain in itself. The appropriate places of
the whole and of the part are alike, e.g. of the whole earth and
of a clod the appropriate place is the lower region; of fire as a
whole and of a spark, the upper region. If, therefore, to be in
itself is the place of the infinite, that also will be appropriate to
the part. Therefore it will remain in itself.
In general, the view that there is an infinite body is plainly
incompatible with the doctrine that there is necessarily a
proper place for each kind of body, if every sensible body has
either weight or lightness, and if a body has a natural
locomotion towards the centre if it is heavy, and upwards if it is
light. This would need to be true of the infinite also. But neither
character can belong to it: it cannot be either as a whole, nor
can it be half the one and half the other. For how should you
divide it? or how can the infinite have the one part up and the
other down, or an extremity and a centre?
Further, every sensible body is in place, and the kinds or
differences of place are up-down, before-behind, right-left; and
these distinctions hold not only in relation to us and by
arbitrary agreement, but also in the whole itself. But in the
infinite body they cannot exist. In general, if it is impossible
that there should be an infinite place, and if every body is in
place, there cannot be an infinite body.
Surely what is in a special place is in place, and what is in place
is in a special place. Just, then, as the infinite cannot be quantity
that would imply that it has a particular quantity, e,g, two or
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But on the other hand to suppose that the infinite does not
exist in any way leads obviously to many impossible
consequences: there will be a beginning and an end of time, a
magnitude will not be divisible into magnitudes, number will
not be infinite. If, then, in view of the above considerations,
neither alternative seems possible, an arbiter must be called in;
and clearly there is a sense in which the infinite exists and
another in which it does not.
We must keep in mind that the word is means either what
potentially is or what fully is. Further, a thing is infinite either
by addition or by division.
Now, as we have seen, magnitude is not actually infinite. But by
division it is infinite. (There is no difficulty in refuting the
theory of indivisible lines.) The alternative then remains that
the infinite has a potential existence.
But the phrase potential existence is ambiguous. When we
speak of the potential existence of a statue we mean that there
will be an actual statue. It is not so with the infinite. There will
not be an actual infinite. The word is has many senses, and we
say that the infinite is in the sense in which we say it is day or
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The infinite, then, exists in no other way, but in this way it does
exist, potentially and by reduction. It exists fully in the sense in
which we say it is day or it is the games; and potentially as
matter exists, not independently as what is finite does.
By addition then, also, there is potentially an infinite, namely,
what we have described as being in a sense the same as the
infinite in respect of division. For it will always be possible to
take something ah extra. Yet the sum of the parts taken will not
exceed every determinate magnitude, just as in the direction of
division every determinate magnitude is surpassed in smallness
and there will be a smaller part.
But in respect of addition there cannot be an infinite which
even potentially exceeds every assignable magnitude, unless it
has the attribute of being actually infinite, as the physicists hold
to be true of the body which is outside the world, whose
essential nature is air or something of the kind. But if there
cannot be in this way a sensible body which is infinite in the
full sense, evidently there can no more be a body which is
potentially infinite in respect of addition, except as the inverse
of the infinite by division, as we have said. It is for this reason
that Plato also made the infinites two in number, because it is
supposed to be possible to exceed all limits and to proceed ad
infinitum in the direction both of increase and of reduction. Yet
though he makes the infinites two, he does not use them. For in
the numbers the infinite in the direction of reduction is not
present, as the monad is the smallest; nor is the infinite in the
direction of increase, for the parts number only up to the decad.
The infinite turns out to be the contrary of what it is said to be.
It is not what has nothing outside it that is infinite, but what
always has something outside it. This is indicated by the fact
that rings also that have no bezel are described as endless,
because it is always possible to take a part which is outside a
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7
It is reasonable that there should not be held to be an infinite in
respect of addition such as to surpass every magnitude, but that
there should be thought to be such an infinite in the direction of
division. For the matter and the infinite are contained inside
what contains them, while it is the form which contains. It is
natural too to suppose that in number there is a limit in the
direction of the minimum, and that in the other direction every
assigned number is surpassed. In magnitude, on the contrary,
every assigned magnitude is surpassed in the direction of
smallness, while in the other direction there is no infinite
magnitude. The reason is that what is one is indivisible
whatever it may be, e.g. a man is one man, not many. Number
on the other hand is a plurality of ones and a certain quantity
of them. Hence number must stop at the indivisible: for two
and three are merely derivative terms, and so with each of the
other numbers. But in the direction of largeness it is always
possible to think of a larger number: for the number of times a
magnitude can be bisected is infinite. Hence this infinite is
potential, never actual: the number of parts that can be taken
always surpasses any assigned number. But this number is not
separable from the process of bisection, and its infinity is not a
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8
It remains to dispose of the arguments which are supposed to
support the view that the infinite exists not only potentially but
as a separate thing. Some have no cogency; others can be met
by fresh objections that are valid.
(1) In order that coming to be should not fail, it is not necessary
that there should be a sensible body which is actually infinite.
The passing away of one thing may be the coming to be of
another, the All being limited.
(2) There is a difference between touching and being limited.
The former is relative to something and is the touching of
something (for everything that touches touches something), and
further is an attribute of some one of the things which are
limited. On the other hand, what is limited is not limited in
relation to anything. Again, contact is not necessarily possible
between any two things taken at random.
(3) To rely on mere thinking is absurd, for then the excess or
defect is not in the thing but in the thought. One might think
that one of us is bigger than he is and magnify him ad
infinitum. But it does not follow that he is bigger than the size
we are, just because some one thinks he is, but only because he
is the size he is. The thought is an accident.
(a) Time indeed and movement are infinite, and also thinking, in
the sense that each part that is taken passes in succession out
of existence.
(b) Magnitude is not infinite either in the way of reduction or of
magnification in thought.
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Book IV
1
The physicist must have a knowledge of Place, too, as well as of
the infinite namely, whether there is such a thing or not, and
the manner of its existence and what it is both because all
suppose that things which exist are somewhere (the nonexistent is nowhere where is the goat-stag or the sphinx?),
and because motion in its most general and primary sense is
change of place, which we call locomotion.
The question, what is place? presents many difficulties. An
examination of all the relevant facts seems to lead to divergent
conclusions. Moreover, we have inherited nothing from previous
thinkers, whether in the way of a statement of difficulties or of
a solution.
The existence of place is held to be obvious from the fact of
mutual replacement. Where water now is, there in turn, when
the water has gone out as from a vessel, air is present. When
therefore another body occupies this same place, the place is
thought to be different from all the bodies which come to be in
it and replace one another. What now contains air formerly
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(4) Also we may ask: of what in things is space the cause? None
of the four modes of causation can be ascribed to it. It is neither
in the sense of the matter of existents (for nothing is composed
of it), nor as the form and definition of things, nor as end, nor
does it move existents.
(5) Further, too, if it is itself an existent, where will it be? Zenos
difficulty demands an explanation: for if everything that exists
has a place, place too will have a place, and so on ad infinitum.
(6) Again, just as every body is in place, so, too, every place has a
body in it. What then shall we say about growing things? It
follows from these premisses that their place must grow with
them, if their place is neither less nor greater than they are.
By asking these questions, then, we must raise the whole
problem about place not only as to what it is, but even
whether there is such a thing.
2
We may distinguish generally between predicating B of A
because it (A) is itself, and because it is something else; and
particularly between place which is common and in which all
bodies are, and the special place occupied primarily by each. I
mean, for instance, that you are now in the heavens because
you are in the air and it is in the heavens; and you are in the air
because you are on the earth; and similarly on the earth
because you are in this place which contains no more than you.
Now if place is what primarily contains each body, it would be a
limit, so that the place would be the form or shape of each body
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3
The next step we must take is to see in how many senses one
thing is said to be in another.
(1) As the finger is in the hand and generally the part in the
whole.
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(2) As the whole is in the parts: for there is no whole over and
above the parts.
(3) As man is in animal and generally species in genus.
(4) As the genus is in the species and generally the part of the
specific form in the definition of the specific form.
(5) As health is in the hot and the cold and generally the form
in the matter.
(6) As the affairs of Greece centre in the king, and generally
events centre in their primary motive agent.
(7) As the existence of a thing centres in its good and generally
in its end, i.e. in that for the sake of which it exists.
(8) In the strictest sense of all, as a thing is in a vessel, and
generally in place.
One might raise the question whether a thing can be in itself, or
whether nothing can be in itself everything being either
nowhere or in something else.
The question is ambiguous; we may mean the thing qua itself
or qua something else.
When there are parts of a whole the one that in which a thing
is, the other the thing which is in it the whole will be
described as being in itself. For a thing is described in terms of
its parts, as well as in terms of the thing as a whole, e.g. a man
is said to be white because the visible surface of him is white, or
to be scientific because his thinking faculty has been trained.
The jar then will not be in itself and the wine will not be in
itself. But the jar of wine will: for the contents and the container
are both parts of the same whole.
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4
What then after all is place? The answer to this question may be
elucidated as follows.
Let us take for granted about it the various characteristics which
are supposed correctly to belong to it essentially. We assume
then
(1) Place is what contains that of which it is the place.
(2) Place is no part of the thing.
(3) The immediate place of a thing is neither less nor greater
than the thing.
(4) Place can be left behind by the thing and is separable. In
addition:
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(5) All place admits of the distinction of up and down, and each
of the bodies is naturally carried to its appropriate place and
rests there, and this makes the place either up or down.
Having laid these foundations, we must complete the theory.
We ought to try to make our investigation such as will render an
account of place, and will not only solve the difficulties
connected with it, but will also show that the attributes
supposed to belong to it do really belong to it, and further will
make clear the cause of the trouble and of the difficulties about
it. Such is the most satisfactory kind of exposition.
First then we must understand that place would not have been
thought of, if there had not been a special kind of motion,
namely that with respect to place. It is chiefly for this reason
that we suppose the heaven also to be in place, because it is in
constant movement. Of this kind of change there are two
species locomotion on the one hand and, on the other,
increase and diminution. For these too involve variation of
place: what was then in this place has now in turn changed to
what is larger or smaller.
Again, when we say a thing is moved, the predicate either (1)
belongs to it actually, in virtue of its own nature, or (2) in virtue
of something conjoined with it. In the latter case it may be
either (a) something which by its own nature is capable of being
moved, e.g. the parts of the body or the nail in the ship, or (b)
something which is not in itself capable of being moved, but is
always moved through its conjunction with something else, as
whiteness or science. These have changed their place only
because the subjects to which they belong do so.
We say that a thing is in the world, in the sense of in place,
because it is in the air, and the air is in the world; and when we
say it is in the air, we do not mean it is in every part of the air,
but that it is in the air because of the outer surface of the air
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which surrounds it; for if all the air were its place, the place of a
thing would not be equal to the thing which it is supposed to
be, and which the primary place in which a thing is actually is.
When what surrounds, then, is not separate from the thing, but
is in continuity with it, the thing is said to be in what surrounds
it, not in the sense of in place, but as a part in a whole. But
when the thing is separate and in contact, it is immediately in
the inner surface of the surrounding body, and this surface is
neither a part of what is in it nor yet greater than its extension,
but equal to it; for the extremities of things which touch are
coincident.
Further, if one body is in continuity with another, it is not
moved in that but with that. On the other hand it is moved in
that if it is separate. It makes no difference whether what
contains is moved or not.
Again, when it is not separate it is described as a part in a
whole, as the pupil in the eye or the hand in the body: when it is
separate, as the water in the cask or the wine in the jar. For the
hand is moved with the body and the water in the cask.
It will now be plain from these considerations what place is.
There are just four things of which place must be one the
shape, or the matter, or some sort of extension between the
bounding surfaces of the containing body, or this boundary
itself if it contains no extension over and above the bulk of the
body which comes to be in it.
Three of these it obviously cannot be:
(1) The shape is supposed to be place because it surrounds, for
the extremities of what contains and of what is contained are
coincident. Both the shape and the place, it is true, are
boundaries. But not of the same thing: the form is the boundary
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naturally carried up, and the heavy what is carried down, the
boundary which contains in the direction of the middle of the
universe, and the middle itself, are down, and that which
contains in the direction of the outermost part of the universe,
and the outermost part itself, are up.
For this reason, too, place is thought to be a kind of surface, and
as it were a vessel, i.e. a container of the thing.
Further, place is coincident with the thing, for boundaries are
coincident with the bounded.
5
If then a body has another body outside it and containing it, it is
in place, and if not, not. That is why, even if there were to be
water which had not a container, the parts of it, on the one
hand, will be moved (for one part is contained in another),
while, on the other hand, the whole will be moved in one sense,
but not in another. For as a whole it does not simultaneously
change its place, though it will be moved in a circle: for this
place is the place of its parts. (Some things are moved, not up
and down, but in a circle; others up and down, such things
namely as admit of condensation and rarefaction.)
As was explained, some things are potentially in place, others
actually. So, when you have a homogeneous substance which is
continuous, the parts are potentially in place: when the parts
are separated, but in contact, like a heap, they are actually in
place.
Again, (1) some things are per se in place, namely every body
which is movable either by way of locomotion or by way of
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6
The investigation of similar questions about the void, also, must
be held to belong to the physicist namely whether it exists or
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7
As a step towards settling which view is true, we must
determine the meaning of the name.
The void is thought to be place with nothing in it. The reason
for this is that people take what exists to be body, and hold that
while every body is in place, void is place in which there is no
body, so that where there is no body, there must be void.
Every body, again, they suppose to be tangible; and of this
nature is whatever has weight or lightness.
Hence, by a syllogism, what has nothing heavy or light in it, is
void.
This result, then, as I have said, is reached by syllogism. It
would be absurd to suppose that the point is void; for the void
must be place which has in it an interval in tangible body.
But at all events we observe then that in one way the void is
described as what is not full of body perceptible to touch; and
what has heaviness and lightness is perceptible to touch. So we
would raise the question: what would they say of an interval
that has colour or sound is it void or not? Clearly they would
reply that if it could receive what is tangible it was void, and if
not, not.
In another way void is that in which there is no this or
corporeal substance. So some say that the void is the matter of
the body (they identify the place, too, with this), and in this they
speak incorrectly; for the matter is not separable from the
things, but they are inquiring about the void as about something
separable.
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Let us explain again that there is no void existing separately, as
some maintain. If each of the simple bodies has a natural
locomotion, e.g. fire upward and earth downward and towards
the middle of the universe, it is clear that it cannot be the void
that is the condition of locomotion. What, then, will the void be
the condition of? It is thought to be the condition of movement
in respect of place, and it is not the condition of this.
Again, if void is a sort of place deprived of body, when there is a
void where will a body placed in it move to? It certainly cannot
move into the whole of the void. The same argument applies as
against those who think that place is something separate, into
which things are carried; viz. how will what is placed in it move,
or rest? Much the same argument will apply to the void as to
the up and down in place, as is natural enough since those
who maintain the existence of the void make it a place.
And in what way will things be present either in place or in
the void? For the expected result does not take place when a
body is placed as a whole in a place conceived of as separate
and permanent; for a part of it, unless it be placed apart, will
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can take place, nor can anything be moved save as that which is
carried is moved.
Further, no one could say why a thing once set in motion should
stop anywhere; for why should it stop here rather than here? So
that a thing will either be at rest or must be moved ad
infinitum, unless something more powerful get in its way.
Further, things are now thought to move into the void because it
yields; but in a void this quality is present equally everywhere,
so that things should move in all directions.
Further, the truth of what we assert is plain from the following
considerations. We see the same weight or body moving faster
than another for two reasons, either because there is a
difference in what it moves through, as between water, air, and
earth, or because, other things being equal, the moving body
differs from the other owing to excess of weight or of lightness.
Now the medium causes a difference because it impedes the
moving thing, most of all if it is moving in the opposite
direction, but in a secondary degree even if it is at rest; and
especially a medium that is not easily divided, i.e. a medium
that is somewhat dense. A, then, will move through B in time G,
and through D, which is thinner, in time E (if the length of B is
egual to D), in proportion to the density of the hindering body.
For let B be water and D air; then by so much as air is thinner
and more incorporeal than water, A will move through D faster
than through B. Let the speed have the same ratio to the speed,
then, that air has to water. Then if air is twice as thin, the body
will traverse B in twice the time that it does D, and the time G
will be twice the time E. And always, by so much as the medium
is more incorporeal and less resistant and more easily divided,
the faster will be the movement.
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the void, just as if the water or air had not been displaced by the
wooden cube, but had penetrated right through it.
But the cube also has a magnitude equal to that occupied by the
void; a magnitude which, if it is also hot or cold, or heavy or
light, is none the less different in essence from all its attributes,
even if it is not separable from them; I mean the volume of the
wooden cube. So that even if it were separated from everything
else and were neither heavy nor light, it will occupy an equal
amount of void, and fill the same place, as the part of place or of
the void equal to itself. How then will the body of the cube differ
from the void or place that is equal to it? And if there can be
two such things, why cannot there be any number coinciding?
This, then, is one absurd and impossible implication of the
theory. It is also evident that the cube will have this same
volume even if it is displaced, which is an attribute possessed
by all other bodies also. Therefore if this differs in no respect
from its place, why need we assume a place for bodies over and
above the volume of each, if their volume be conceived of as
free from attributes? It contributes nothing to the situation if
there is an equal interval attached to it as well. [Further it ought
to be clear by the study of moving things what sort of thing void
is. But in fact it is found nowhere in the world. For air is
something, though it does not seem to be so nor, for that
matter, would water, if fishes were made of iron; for the
discrimination of the tangible is by touch.]
It is clear, then, from these considerations that there is no
separate void.
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There are some who think that the existence of rarity and
density shows that there is a void. If rarity and density do not
exist, they say, neither can things contract and be compressed.
But if this were not to take place, either there would be no
movement at all, or the universe would bulge, as Xuthus said, or
air and water must always change into equal amounts (e.g. if air
has been made out of a cupful of water, at the same time out of
an equal amount of air a cupful of water must have been made),
or void must necessarily exist; for compression and expansion
cannot take place otherwise.
Now, if they mean by the rare that which has many voids
existing separately, it is plain that if void cannot exist separate
any more than a place can exist with an extension all to itself,
neither can the rare exist in this sense. But if they mean that
there is void, not separately existent, but still present in the
rare, this is less impossible, yet, first, the void turns out not to
be a condition of all movement, but only of movement upwards
(for the rare is light, which is the reason why they say fire is
rare); second, the void turns out to be a condition of movement
not as that in which it takes place, but in that the void carries
things up as skins by being carried up themselves carry up what
is continuous with them. Yet how can void have a local
movement or a place? For thus that into which void moves is till
then void of a void.
Again, how will they explain, in the case of what is heavy, its
movement downwards? And it is plain that if the rarer and
more void a thing is the quicker it will move upwards, if it were
completely void it would move with a maximum speed! But
perhaps even this is impossible, that it should move at all; the
same reason which showed that in the void all things are
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incapable of moving shows that the void cannot move, viz. the
fact that the speeds are incomparable.
Since we deny that a void exists, but for the rest the problem
has been truly stated, that either there will be no movement, if
there is not to be condensation and rarefaction, or the universe
will bulge, or a transformation of water into air will always be
balanced by an equal transformation of air into water (for it is
clear that the air produced from water is bulkier than the
water): it is necessary therefore, if compression does not exist,
either that the next portion will be pushed outwards and make
the outermost part bulge, or that somewhere else there must be
an equal amount of water produced out of air, so that the entire
bulk of the whole may be equal, or that nothing moves. For
when anything is displaced this will always happen, unless it
comes round in a circle; but locomotion is not always circular,
but sometimes in a straight line.
These then are the reasons for which they might say that there
is a void; our statement is based on the assumption that there is
a single matter for contraries, hot and cold and the other
natural contrarieties, and that what exists actually is produced
from a potential existent, and that matter is not separable from
the contraries but its being is different, and that a single matter
may serve for colour and heat and cold.
The same matter also serves for both a large and a small body.
This is evident; for when air is produced from water, the same
matter has become something different, not by acquiring an
addition to it, but has become actually what it was potentially,
and, again, water is produced from air in the same way, the
change being sometimes from smallness to greatness, and
sometimes from greatness to smallness. Similarly, therefore, if
air which is large in extent comes to have a smaller volume, or
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rate the matter of the heavy and the light, qua matter of them,
would be the void; for the dense and the rare are productive of
locomotion in virtue of this contrariety, and in virtue of their
hardness and softness productive of passivity and impassivity,
i.e. not of locomotion but rather of qualitative change.
So much, then, for the discussion of the void, and of the sense
in which it exists and the sense in which it does not exist.
10
Next for discussion after the subjects mentioned is Time. The
best plan will be to begin by working out the difficulties
connected with it, making use of the current arguments. First,
does it belong to the class of things that exist or to that of
things that do not exist? Then secondly, what is its nature? To
start, then: the following considerations would make one
suspect that it either does not exist at all or barely, and in an
obscure way. One part of it has been and is not, while the other
is going to be and is not yet. Yet time both infinite time and
any time you like to take is made up of these. One would
naturally suppose that what is made up of things which do not
exist could have no share in reality.
Further, if a divisible thing is to exist, it is necessary that, when
it exists, all or some of its parts must exist. But of time some
parts have been, while others have to be, and no part of it is
though it is divisible. For what is now is not a part: a part is a
measure of the whole, which must be made up of parts. Time,
on the other hand, is not held to be made up of nows.
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Again, the now which seems to bound the past and the future
does it always remain one and the same or is it always other
and other? It is hard to say.
(1) If it is always different and different, and if none of the parts
in time which are other and other are simultaneous (unless the
one contains and the other is contained, as the shorter time is
by the longer), and if the now which is not, but formerly was,
must have ceased-to-be at some time, the nows too cannot be
simultaneous with one another, but the prior now must always
have ceased-to-be. But the prior now cannot have ceased-to-be
in itself (since it then existed); yet it cannot have ceased-to-be
in another now. For we may lay it down that one now cannot
be next to another, any more than point to point. If then it did
not cease-to-be in the next now but in another, it would exist
simultaneously with the innumerable nows between the two
which is impossible.
Yes, but (2) neither is it possible for the now to remain always
the same. No determinate divisible thing has a single
termination, whether it is continuously extended in one or in
more than one dimension: but the now is a termination, and it
is possible to cut off a determinate time. Further, if coincidence
in time (i.e. being neither prior nor posterior) means to be in
one and the same now, then, if both what is before and what
is after are in this same now, things which happened ten
thousand years ago would be simultaneous with what has
happened to-day, and nothing would be before or after anything
else.
This may serve as a statement of the difficulties about the
attributes of time.
As to what time is or what is its nature, the traditional accounts
give us as little light as the preliminary problems which we
have worked through.
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11
But neither does time exist without change; for when the state
of our own minds does not change at all, or we have not noticed
its changing, we do not realize that time has elapsed, any more
than those who are fabled to sleep among the heroes in
Sardinia do when they are awakened; for they connect the
earlier now with the later and make them one, cutting out the
interval because of their failure to notice it. So, just as, if the
now were not different but one and the same, there would not
have been time, so too when its difference escapes our notice
the interval does not seem to be time. If, then, the nonrealization of the existence of time happens to us when we do
not distinguish any change, but the soul seems to stay in one
indivisible state, and when we perceive and distinguish we say
time has elapsed, evidently time is not independent of
movement and change. It is evident, then, that time is neither
movement nor independent of movement.
We must take this as our starting-point and try to discover
since we wish to know what time is what exactly it has to do
with movement.
Now we perceive movement and time together: for even when it
is dark and we are not being affected through the body, if any
movement takes place in the mind we at once suppose that
some time also has elapsed; and not only that but also, when
some time is thought to have passed, some movement also
along with it seems to have taken place. Hence time is either
movement or something that belongs to movement. Since then
it is not movement, it must be the other.
But what is moved is moved from something to something, and
all magnitude is continuous. Therefore the movement goes with
the magnitude. Because the magnitude is continuous, the
movement too must be continuous, and if the movement, then
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the time; for the time that has passed is always thought to be in
proportion to the movement.
The distinction of before and after holds primarily, then, in
place; and there in virtue of relative position. Since then before
and after hold in magnitude, they must hold also in
movement, these corresponding to those. But also in time the
distinction of before and after must hold, for time and
movement always correspond with each other. The before and
after in motion is identical in substratum with motion yet
differs from it in definition, and is not identical with motion.
But we apprehend time only when we have marked motion,
marking it by before and after; and it is only when we have
perceived before and after in motion that we say that time
has elapsed. Now we mark them by judging that A and B are
different, and that some third thing is intermediate to them.
When we think of the extremes as different from the middle
and the mind pronounces that the nows are two, one before
and one after, it is then that we say that there is time, and this
that we say is time. For what is bounded by the now is thought
to be time we may assume this.
When, therefore, we perceive the now one, and neither as
before and after in a motion nor as an identity but in relation to
a before and an after, no time is thought to have elapsed,
because there has been no motion either. On the other hand,
when we do perceive a before and an after, then we say that
there is time. For time is just this number of motion in respect
of before and after.
Hence time is not movement, but only movement in so far as it
admits of enumeration. A proof of this: we discriminate the
more or the less by number, but more or less movement by
time. Time then is a kind of number. (Number, we must note, is
used in two senses both of what is counted or the countable
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12
The smallest number, in the strict sense of the word number, is
two. But of number as concrete, sometimes there is a minimum,
sometimes not: e.g. of a line, the smallest in respect of
multiplicity is two (or, if you like, one), but in respect of size
there is no minimum; for every line is divided ad infinitum.
Hence it is so with time. In respect of number the minimum is
one (or two); in point of extent there is no minimum.
It is clear, too, that time is not described as fast or slow, but as
many or few and as long or short. For as continuous it is long or
short and as a number many or few, but it is not fast or slow
any more than any number with which we number is fast or
slow.
Further, there is the same time everywhere at once, but not the
same time before and after, for while the present change is one,
the change which has happened and that which will happen
are different. Time is not number with which we count, but the
number of things which are counted, and this according as it
occurs before or after is always different, for the nows are
different. And the number of a hundred horses and a hundred
men is the same, but the things numbered are different the
horses from the men. Further, as a movement can be one and
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the same again and again, so too can time, e.g. a year or a spring
or an autumn.
Not only do we measure the movement by the time, but also the
time by the movement, because they define each other. The
time marks the movement, since it is its number, and the
movement the time. We describe the time as much or little,
measuring it by the movement, just as we know the number by
what is numbered, e.g. the number of the horses by one horse
as the unit. For we know how many horses there are by the use
of the number; and again by using the one horse as unit we
know the number of the horses itself. So it is with the time and
the movement; for we measure the movement by the time and
vice versa. It is natural that this should happen; for the
movement goes with the distance and the time with the
movement, because they are quanta and continuous and
divisible. The movement has these attributes because the
distance is of this nature, and the time has them because of the
movement. And we measure both the distance by the
movement and the movement by the distance; for we say that
the road is long, if the journey is long, and that this is long, if
the road is long the time, too, if the movement, and the
movement, if the time.
Time is a measure of motion and of being moved, and it
measures the motion by determining a motion which will
measure exactly the whole motion, as the cubit does the length
by determining an amount which will measure out the whole.
Further to be in time means for movement, that both it and its
essence are measured by time (for simultaneously it measures
both the movement and its essence, and this is what being in
time means for it, that its essence should be measured).
Clearly then to be in time has the same meaning for other
things also, namely, that their being should be measured by
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Hence, plainly, things which are always are not, as such, in time,
for they are not contained time, nor is their being measured by
time. A proof of this is that none of them is affected by time,
which indicates that they are not in time.
Since time is the measure of motion, it will be the measure of
rest too indirectly. For all rest is in time. For it does not follow
that what is in time is moved, though what is in motion is
necessarily moved. For time is not motion, but number of
motion: and what is at rest, also, can be in the number of
motion. Not everything that is not in motion can be said to be
at rest but only that which can be moved, though it actually
is not moved, as was said above.
To be in number means that there is a number of the thing,
and that its being is measured by the number in which it is.
Hence if a thing is in time it will be measured by time. But time
will measure what is moved and what is at rest, the one qua
moved, the other qua at rest; for it will measure their motion
and rest respectively.
Hence what is moved will not be measurable by the time simply
in so far as it has quantity, but in so far as its motion has
quantity. Thus none of the things which are neither moved nor
at rest are in time: for to be in time is to be measured by time,
while time is the measure of motion and rest.
Plainly, then, neither will everything that does not exist be in
time, i.e. those non-existent things that cannot exist, as the
diagonal cannot be commensurate with the side.
Generally, if time is directly the measure of motion and
indirectly of other things, it is clear that a thing whose
existence is measured by it will have its existence in rest or
motion. Those things therefore which are subject to perishing
and becoming generally, those which at one time exist, at
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13
The now is the link of time, as has been said (for it connects
past and future time), and it is a limit of time (for it is the
beginning of the one and the end of the other). But this is not
obvious as it is with the point, which is fixed. It divides
potentially, and in so far as it is dividing the now is always
different, but in so far as it connects it is always the same, as it
is with mathematical lines. For the intellect it is not always one
and the same point, since it is other and other when one divides
the line; but in so far as it is one, it is the same in every respect.
So the now also is in one way a potential dividing of time, in
another the termination of both parts, and their unity. And the
dividing and the uniting are the same thing and in the same
reference, but in essence they are not the same.
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just been taken we do not say that, because it is too far from
the now. Lately, too, refers to the part of past time which is
near the present now. When did you go? Lately, if the time is
near the existing now. Long ago refers to the distant past.
Suddenly refers to what has departed from its former
condition in a time imperceptible because of its smallness; but
it is the nature of all change to alter things from their former
condition. In time all things come into being and pass away; for
which reason some called it the wisest of all things, but the
Pythagorean Paron called it the most stupid, because in it we
also forget; and his was the truer view. It is clear then that it
must be in itself, as we said before, the condition of destruction
rather than of coming into being (for change, in itself, makes
things depart from their former condition), and only
incidentally of coming into being, and of being. A sufficient
evidence of this is that nothing comes into being without itself
moving somehow and acting, but a thing can be destroyed even
if it does not move at all. And this is what, as a rule, we chiefly
mean by a things being destroyed by time. Still, time does not
work even this change; even this sort of change takes place
incidentally in time.
We have stated, then, that time exists and what it is, and in how
many senses we speak of the now, and what at some time,
lately, presently or just, long ago, and suddenly mean.
14
These distinctions having been drawn, it is evident that every
change and everything that moves is in time; for the distinction
of faster and slower exists in reference to all change, since it is
found in every instance. In the phrase moving faster I refer to
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One might also raise the question what sort of movement time
is the number of. Must we not say of any kind? For things both
come into being in time and pass away, and grow, and are
altered in time, and are moved locally; thus it is of each
movement qua movement that time is the number. And so it is
simply the number of continuous movement, not of any
particular kind of it.
But other things as well may have been moved now, and there
would be a number of each of the two movements. Is there
another time, then, and will there be two equal times at once?
Surely not. For a time that is both equal and simultaneous is
one and the same time, and even those that are not
simultaneous are one in kind; for if there were dogs, and horses,
and seven of each, it would be the same number. So, too,
movements that have simultaneous limits have the same time,
yet the one may in fact be fast and the other not, and one may
be locomotion and the other alteration; still the time of the two
changes is the same if their number also is equal and
simultaneous; and for this reason, while the movements are
different and separate, the time is everywhere the same,
because the number of equal and simultaneous movements is
everywhere one and the same.
Now there is such a thing as locomotion, and in locomotion
there is included circular movement, and everything is
measured by some one thing homogeneous with it, units by a
unit, horses by a horse, and similarly times by some definite
time, and, as we said, time is measured by motion as well as
motion by time (this being so because by a motion definite in
time the quantity both of the motion and of the time is
measured): if, then, what is first is the measure of everything
homogeneous with it, regular circular motion is above all else
the measure, because the number of this is the best known.
Now neither alteration nor increase nor coming into being can
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We have now discussed time both time itself and the matters
appropriate to the consideration of it.
Book V
1
Everything which changes does so in one of three senses. It may
change (1) accidentally, as for instance when we say that
something musical walks, that which walks being something in
which aptitude for music is an accident. Again (2) a thing is said
without qualification to change because something belonging to
it changes, i.e. in statements which refer to part of the thing in
question: thus the body is restored to health because the eye or
the chest, that is to say a part of the whole body, is restored to
health. And above all there is (3) the case of a thing which is in
motion neither accidentally nor in respect of something else
belonging to it, but in virtue of being itself directly in motion.
Here we have a thing which is essentially movable: and that
which is so is a different thing according to the particular
variety of motion: for instance it may be a thing capable of
alteration: and within the sphere of alteration it is again a
different thing according as it is capable of being restored to
health or capable of being heated. And there are the same
distinctions in the case of the mover: (1) one thing causes
motion accidentally, (2) another partially (because something
belonging to it causes motion), (3) another of itself directly, as,
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2
In respect of Substance there is no motion, because Substance
has no contrary among things that are. Nor is there motion in
respect of Relation: for it may happen that when one correlative
changes, the other, although this does not itself change, is no
longer applicable, so that in these cases the motion is
accidental. Nor is there motion in respect of Agent and Patient
in fact there can never be motion of mover and moved, because
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3
Let us now proceed to define the terms together and apart, in
contact, between, in succession, contiguous, and
continuous, and to show in what circumstances each of these
terms is naturally applicable.
Things are said to be together in place when they are in one
place (in the strictest sense of the word place) and to be apart
when they are in different places.
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4
There are many senses in which motion is said to be one: for
we use the term one in many senses.
Motion is one generically according to the different categories to
which it may be assigned: thus any locomotion is one
generically with any other locomotion, whereas alteration is
different generically from locomotion.
Motion is one specifically when besides being one generically it
also takes place in a species incapable of subdivision: e.g. colour
has specific differences: therefore blackening and whitening
differ specifically; but at all events every whitening will be
specifically the same with every other whitening and every
blackening with every other blackening. But white is not further
subdivided by specific differences: hence any whitening is
specifically one with any other whitening. Where it happens
that the genus is at the same time a species, it is clear that the
motion will then in a sense be one specifically though not in an
unqualified sense: learning is an example of this, knowledge
being on the one hand a species of apprehension and on the
other hand a genus including the various knowledges. A
difficulty, however, may be raised as to whether a motion is
specifically one when the same thing changes from the same to
the same, e.g. when one point changes again and again from a
particular place to a particular place: if this motion is
specifically one, circular motion will be the same as rectilinear
motion, and rolling the same as walking. But is not this
difficulty removed by the principle already laid down that if that
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continuity only when the ends of the two things are one. Hence
motions may be consecutive or successive in virtue of the time
being continuous, but there can be continuity only in virtue of
the motions themselves being continuous, that is when the end
of each is one with the end of the other. Motion, therefore, that
is in an unqualified sense continuous and one must be
specifically the same, of one thing, and in one time. Unity is
required in respect of time in order that there may be no
interval of immobility, for where there is intermission of motion
there must be rest, and a motion that includes intervals of rest
will be not one but many, so that a motion that is interrupted by
stationariness is not one or continuous, and it is so interrupted
if there is an interval of time. And though of a motion that is not
specifically one (even if the time is unintermittent) the time is
one, the motion is specifically different, and so cannot really be
one, for motion that is one must be specifically one, though
motion that is specifically one is not necessarily one in an
unqualified sense. We have now explained what we mean when
we call a motion one without qualification.
Further, a motion is also said to be one generically, specifically,
or essentially when it is complete, just as in other cases
completeness and wholeness are characteristics of what is one:
and sometimes a motion even if incomplete is said to be one,
provided only that it is continuous.
And besides the cases already mentioned there is another in
which a motion is said to be one, viz. when it is regular: for in a
sense a motion that is irregular is not regarded as one, that title
belonging rather to that which is regular, as a straight line is
regular, the irregular being as such divisible. But the difference
would seem to be one of degree. In every kind of motion we may
have regularity or irregularity: thus there may be regular
alteration, and locomotion in a regular path, e.g. in a circle or on
a straight line, and it is the same with regard to increase and
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5
We have further to determine what motions are contrary to
each other, and to determine similarly how it is with rest. And
we have first to decide whether contrary motions are motions
respectively from and to the same thing, e.g. a motion from
health and a motion to health (where the opposition, it would
seem, is of the same kind as that between coming to be and
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6
But since a motion appears to have contrary to it not only
another motion but also a state of rest, we must determine how
this is so. A motion has for its contrary in the strict sense of the
term another motion, but it also has for an opposite a state of
rest (for rest is the privation of motion and the privation of
anything may be called its contrary), and motion of one kind
has for its opposite rest of that kind, e.g. local motion has local
rest. This statement, however, needs further qualification: there
remains the question, is the opposite of remaining at a
particular place motion from or motion to that place? It is
surely clear that since there are two subjects between which
motion takes place, motion from one of these (A) to its contrary
(B) has for its opposite remaining in A while the reverse motion
has for its opposite remaining in B. At the same time these two
are also contrary to each other: for it would be absurd to
suppose that there are contrary motions and not opposite states
of rest. States of rest in contraries are opposed. To take an
example, a state of rest in health is (1) contrary to a state of rest
in disease, and (2) the motion to which it is contrary is that from
health to disease. For (2) it would be absurd that its contrary
motion should be that from disease to health, since motion to
that in which a thing is at rest is rather a coming to rest, the
coming to rest being found to come into being simultaneously
with the motion; and one of these two motions it must be. And
(1) rest in whiteness is of course not contrary to rest in health.
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earth during the time that it was being carried violently upward
was coming to a standstill. But whereas the velocity of that
which comes to a standstill seems always to increase, the
velocity of that which is carried violently seems always to
decrease: so it will he in a state of rest without having become
so. Moreover coming to a standstill is generally recognized to
be identical or at least concomitant with the locomotion of a
thing to its proper place.
There is also another difficulty involved in the view that
remaining in a particular place is contrary to motion from that
place. For when a thing is moving from or discarding something,
it still appears to have that which is being discarded, so that if a
state of rest is itself contrary to the motion from the state of
rest to its contrary, the contraries rest and motion will be
simultaneously predicable of the same thing. May we not say,
however, that in so far as the thing is still stationary it is in a
state of rest in a qualified sense? For, in fact, whenever a thing
is in motion, part of it is at the starting-point while part is at the
goal to which it is changing: and consequently a motion finds
its true contrary rather in another motion than in a state of rest.
With regard to motion and rest, then, we have now explained in
what sense each of them is one and under what conditions they
exhibit contrariety.
[With regard to coming to a standstill the question may be
raised whether there is an opposite state of rest to unnatural as
well as to natural motions. It would be absurd if this were not
the case: for a thing may remain still merely under violence:
thus we shall have a thing being in a non-permanent state of
rest without having become so. But it is clear that it must be the
case: for just as there is unnatural motion, so, too, a thing may
be in an unnatural state of rest. Further, some things have a
natural and an unnatural motion, e.g. fire has a natural upward
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Book VI
1
Now if the terms continuous, in contact, and in succession
are understood as defined above things being continuous if
their extremities are one, in contact if their extremities are
together, and in succession if there is nothing of their own
kind intermediate between them nothing that is continuous
can be composed of indivisibles: e.g. a line cannot be
composed of points, the line being continuous and the point
indivisible. For the extremities of two points can neither be one
(since of an indivisible there can be no extremity as distinct
from some other part) nor together (since that which has no
parts can have no extremity, the extremity and the thing of
which it is the extremity being distinct).
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motion will consist not of motions but of starts, and will take
place by a things having completed a motion without being in
motion: for on this assumption it has completed its passage
through A without passing through it. So it will be possible for a
thing to have completed a walk without ever walking: for on
this assumption it has completed a walk over a particular
distance without walking over that distance. Since, then,
everything must be either at rest or in motion, and O is
therefore at rest in each of the sections A, B, and G, it follows
that a thing can be continuously at rest and at the same time in
motion: for, as we saw, O is in motion over the whole ABG and
at rest in any part (and consequently in the whole) of it.
Moreover, if the indivisibles composing DEZ are motions, it
would be possible for a thing in spite of the presence in it of
motion to be not in motion but at rest, while if they are not
motions, it would be possible for motion to be composed of
something other than motions.
And if length and motion are thus indivisible, it is neither more
nor less necessary that time also be similarly indivisible, that is
to say be composed of indivisible moments: for if the whole
distance is divisible and an equal velocity will cause a thing to
pass through less of it in less time, the time must also be
divisible, and conversely, if the time in which a thing is carried
over the section A is divisible, this section A must also be
divisible.
2
And since every magnitude is divisible into magnitudes for we
have shown that it is impossible for anything continuous to be
composed of indivisible parts, and every magnitude is
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nor more time. It can only be, then, that it occupies less time,
and thus we get the necessary consequence that the quicker
will pass over an equal magnitude (as well as a greater) in less
time than the slower.
And since every motion is in time and a motion may occupy any
time, and the motion of everything that is in motion may be
either quicker or slower, both quicker motion and slower
motion may occupy any time: and this being so, it necessarily
follows that time also is continuous. By continuous I mean that
which is divisible into divisibles that are infinitely divisible: and
if we take this as the definition of continuous, it follows
necessarily that time is continuous. For since it has been shown
that the quicker will pass over an equal magnitude in less time
than the slower, suppose that A is quicker and B slower, and
that the slower has traversed the magnitude GD in the time ZH.
Now it is clear that the quicker will traverse the same
magnitude in less time than this: let us say in the time ZO.
Again, since the quicker has passed over the whole D in the
time ZO, the slower will in the same time pass over GK, say,
which is less than GD. And since B, the slower, has passed over
GK in the time ZO, the quicker will pass over it in less time: so
that the time ZO will again be divided. And if this is divided the
magnitude GK will also be divided just as GD was: and again, if
the magnitude is divided, the time will also be divided. And we
can carry on this process for ever, taking the slower after the
quicker and the quicker after the slower alternately, and using
what has been demonstrated at each stage as a new point of
departure: for the quicker will divide the time and the slower
will divide the length. If, then, this alternation always holds
good, and at every turn involves a division, it is evident that all
time must be continuous. And at the same time it is clear that
all magnitude is also continuous; for the divisions of which time
and magnitude respectively are susceptible are the same and
equal.
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ZH. Then the time may also be divided into three indivisibles,
for an equal magnitude will be passed over in an equal time.
Suppose then that it is thus divided into KL, LM, MN. Again,
since in the same time the slower has been carried over EZ, ZH,
the time may also be similarly divided into two. Thus the
indivisible will be divisible, and that which has no parts will be
passed over not in an indivisible but in a greater time. It is
evident, therefore, that nothing continuous is without parts.
3
The present also is necessarily indivisible the present, that is,
not in the sense in which the word is applied to one thing in
virtue of another, but in its proper and primary sense; in which
sense it is inherent in all time. For the present is something that
is an extremity of the past (no part of the future being on this
side of it) and also of the future (no part of the past being on the
other side of it): it is, as we have said, a limit of both. And if it is
once shown that it is essentially of this character and one and
the same, it will at once be evident also that it is indivisible.
Now the present that is the extremity of both times must be
one and the same: for if each extremity were different, the one
could not be in succession to the other, because nothing
continuous can be composed of things having no parts: and if
the one is apart from the other, there will be time intermediate
between them, because everything continuous is such that
there is something intermediate between its limits and
described by the same name as itself. But if the intermediate
thing is time, it will be divisible: for all time has been shown to
be divisible. Thus on this assumption the present is divisible.
But if the present is divisible, there will be part of the past in the
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future and part of the future in the past: for past time will be
marked off from future time at the actual point of division. Also
the present will be a present not in the proper sense but in
virtue of something else: for the division which yields it will not
be a division proper. Furthermore, there will be a part of the
present that is past and a part that is future, and it will not
always be the same part that is past or future: in fact one and
the same present will not be simultaneous: for the time may be
divided at many points. If, therefore, the present cannot
possibly have these characteristics, it follows that it must be the
same present that belongs to each of the two times. But if this is
so it is evident that the present is also indivisible: for if it is
divisible it will be involved in the same implications as before. It
is clear, then, from what has been said that time contains
something indivisible, and this is what we call a present.
We will now show that nothing can be in motion in a present.
For if this is possible, there can be both quicker and slower
motion in the present. Suppose then that in the present N the
quicker has traversed the distance AB. That being so, the slower
will in the same present traverse a distance less than AB, say
AG. But since the slower will have occupied the whole present
in traversing AG, the quicker will occupy less than this in
traversing it. Thus we shall have a division of the present,
whereas we found it to be indivisible. It is impossible, therefore,
for anything to be in motion in a present.
Nor can anything be at rest in a present: for, as we were saying,
only can be at rest which is naturally designed to be in motion
but is not in motion when, where, or as it would naturally be so:
since, therefore, nothing is naturally designed to be in motion in
a present, it is clear that nothing can be at rest in a present
either.
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4
Further, everything that changes must be divisible. For since
every change is from something to something, and when a
thing is at the goal of its change it is no longer changing, and
when both it itself and all its parts are at the starting-point of
its change it is not changing (for that which is in whole and in
part in an unvarying condition is not in a state of change); it
follows, therefore, that part of that which is changing must be
at the starting-point and part at the goal: for as a whole it
cannot be in both or in neither. (Here by goal of change I mean
that which comes first in the process of change: e.g. in a process
of change from white the goal in question will be grey, not
black: for it is not necessary that that that which is changing
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5
Since everything that changes changes from something to
something, that which has changed must at the moment when
it has first changed be in that to which it has changed. For that
which changes retires from or leaves that from which it
changes: and leaving, if not identical with changing, is at any
rate a consequence of it. And if leaving is a consequence of
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6
Now everything that changes changes time, and that in two
senses: for the time in which a thing is said to change may be
the primary time, or on the other hand it may have an extended
reference, as e.g. when we say that a thing changes in a
particular year because it changes in a particular day. That being
so, that which changes must be changing in any part of the
primary time in which it changes. This is clear from our
definition of primary, in which the word is said to express just
this: it may also, however, be made evident by the following
argument. Let ChRh be the primary time in which that which is
in motion is in motion: and (as all time is divisible) let it be
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7
Now since the motion of everything that is in motion occupies a
period of time, and a greater magnitude is traversed in a longer
time, it is impossible that a thing should undergo a finite
motion in an infinite time, if this is understood to mean not
that the same motion or a part of it is continually repeated, but
that the whole infinite time is occupied by the whole finite
motion. In all cases where a thing is in motion with uniform
velocity it is clear that the finite magnitude is traversed in a
finite time. For if we take a part of the motion which shall be a
measure of the whole, the whole motion is completed in as
many equal periods of the time as there are parts of the motion.
Consequently, since these parts are finite, both in size
individually and in number collectively, the whole time must
also be finite: for it will be a multiple of the portion, equal to the
time occupied in completing the aforesaid part multiplied by
the number of the parts.
But it makes no difference even if the velocity is not uniform.
For let us suppose that the line AB represents a finite stretch
over which a thing has been moved in the given time, and let
GD be the infinite time. Now if one part of the stretch must have
been traversed before another part (this is clear, that in the
earlier and in the later part of the time a different part of the
stretch has been traversed: for as the time lengthens a different
part of the motion will always be completed in it, whether the
thing in motion changes with uniform velocity or not: and
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8
Since everything to which motion or rest is natural is in motion
or at rest in the natural time, place, and manner, that which is
coming to a stand, when it is coming to a stand, must be in
motion: for if it is not in motion it must be at rest: but that
which is at rest cannot be coming to rest. From this it evidently
follows that coming to a stand must occupy a period of time: for
the motion of that which is in motion occupies a period of time,
and that which is coming to a stand has been shown to be in
motion: consequently coming to a stand must occupy a period
of time.
Again, since the terms quicker and slower are used only of
that which occupies a period of time, and the process of coming
to a stand may be quicker or slower, the same conclusion
follows.
And that which is coming to a stand must be coming to a stand
in any part of the primary time in which it is coming to a stand.
For if it is coming to a stand in neither of two parts into which
the time may be divided, it cannot be coming to a stand in the
whole time, with the result that that that which is coming to a
stand will not be coming to a stand. If on the other hand it is
coming to a stand in only one of the two parts of the time, the
whole cannot be the primary time in which it is coming to a
stand: for it is coming to a stand in the whole time not primarily
but in virtue of something distinct from itself, the argument
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over against that which is at rest: for that would involve the
conclusion that that which is in locomotion is at rest.
9
Zenos reasoning, however, is fallacious, when he says that if
everything when it occupies an equal space is at rest, and if that
which is in locomotion is always occupying such a space at any
moment, the flying arrow is therefore motionless. This is false,
for time is not composed of indivisible moments any more than
any other magnitude is composed of indivisibles.
Zenos arguments about motion, which cause so much
disquietude to those who try to solve the problems that they
present, are four in number. The first asserts the non-existence
of motion on the ground that that which is in locomotion must
arrive at the half-way stage before it arrives at the goal. This we
have discussed above.
The second is the so-called Achilles, and it amounts to this,
that in a race the quickest runner can never overtake the
slowest, since the pursuer must first reach the point whence
the pursued started, so that the slower must always hold a lead.
This argument is the same in principle as that which depends
on bisection, though it differs from it in that the spaces with
which we successively have to deal are not divided into halves.
The result of the argument is that the slower is not overtaken:
but it proceeds along the same lines as the bisection-argument
(for in both a division of the space in a certain way leads to the
result that the goal is not reached, though the Achilles goes
further in that it affirms that even the quickest runner in
legendary tradition must fail in his pursuit of the slowest), so
that the solution must be the same. And the axiom that that
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A. Thirdly, at the same moment all the Bs have passed all the
Gs: for the first G and the first B will simultaneously reach the
opposite ends of the course, since (so says Zeno) the time
occupied by the first G in passing each of the Bs is equal to that
occupied by it in passing each of the As, because an equal time
is occupied by both the first B and the first G in passing all the
As. This is the argument, but it presupposed the aforesaid
fallacious assumption.
Nor in reference to contradictory change shall we find anything
unanswerable in the argument that if a thing is changing from
not-white, say, to white, and is in neither condition, then it will
be neither white nor not-white: for the fact that it is not wholly
in either condition will not preclude us from calling it white or
not-white. We call a thing white or not-white not necessarily
because it is be one or the other, but cause most of its parts or
the most essential parts of it are so: not being in a certain
condition is different from not being wholly in that condition.
So, too, in the case of being and not-being and all other
conditions which stand in a contradictory relation: while the
changing thing must of necessity be in one of the two opposites,
it is never wholly in either.
Again, in the case of circles and spheres and everything whose
motion is confined within the space that it occupies, it is not
true to say the motion can be nothing but rest, on the ground
that such things in motion, themselves and their parts, will
occupy the same position for a period of time, and that
therefore they will be at once at rest and in motion. For in the
first place the parts do not occupy the same position for any
period of time: and in the second place the whole also is always
changing to a different position: for if we take the orbit as
described from a point A on a circumference, it will not be the
same as the orbit as described from B or G or any other point on
the same circumference except in an accidental sense, the
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10
Our next point is that that which is without parts cannot be in
motion except accidentally: i.e. it can be in motion only in so far
as the body or the magnitude is in motion and the partless is in
motion by inclusion therein, just as that which is in a boat may
be in motion in consequence of the locomotion of the boat, or a
part may be in motion in virtue of the motion of the whole. (It
must be remembered, however, that by that which is without
parts I mean that which is quantitatively indivisible (and that
the case of the motion of a part is not exactly parallel): for parts
have motions belonging essentially and severally to themselves
distinct from the motion of the whole. The distinction may be
seen most clearly in the case of a revolving sphere, in which the
velocities of the parts near the centre and of those on the
surface are different from one another and from that of the
whole; this implies that there is not one motion but many). As
we have said, then, that which is without parts can be in motion
in the sense in which a man sitting in a boat is in motion when
the boat is travelling, but it cannot be in motion of itself. For
suppose that it is changing from AB to BG either from one
magnitude to another, or from one form to another, or from
some state to its contradictory and let D be the primary time
in which it undergoes the change. Then in the time in which it
is changing it must be either in AB or in BG or partly in one and
partly in the other: for this, as we saw, is true of everything that
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Book VII
1
Everything that is in motion must be moved by something. For if
it has not the source of its motion in itself it is evident that it is
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2
That which is the first movement of a thing in the sense that
it supplies not that for the sake of which but the source of the
motion is always together with that which is moved by it by
together I mean that there is nothing intermediate between
them). This is universally true wherever one thing is moved by
another. And since there are three kinds of motion, local,
qualitative, and quantitative, there must also be three kinds of
movent, that which causes locomotion, that which causes
alteration, and that which causes increase or decrease.
Let us begin with locomotion, for this is the primary motion.
Everything that is in locomotion is moved either by itself or by
something else. In the case of things that are moved by
themselves it is evident that the moved and the movent are
together: for they contain within themselves their first movent,
so that there is nothing in between. The motion of things that
are moved by something else must proceed in one of four ways:
for there are four kinds of locomotion caused by something
other than that which is in motion, viz. pulling, pushing,
carrying, and twirling. All forms of locomotion are reducible to
these. Thus pushing on is a form of pushing in which that
which is causing motion away from itself follows up that which
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it pushes and continues to push it: pushing off occurs when the
movent does not follow up the thing that it has moved:
throwing when the movent causes a motion away from itself
more violent than the natural locomotion of the thing moved,
which continues its course so long as it is controlled by the
motion imparted to it. Again, pushing apart and pushing
together are forms respectively of pushing off and pulling:
pushing apart is pushing off, which may be a motion either
away from the pusher or away from something else, while
pushing together is pulling, which may be a motion towards
something else as well as the puller. We may similarly classify
all the varieties of these last two, e.g. packing and combing: the
former is a form of pushing together, the latter a form of
pushing apart. The same is true of the other processes of
combination and separation (they will all be found to be forms
of pushing apart or of pushing together), except such as are
involved in the processes of becoming and perishing. (At same
time it is evident that there is no other kind of motion but
combination and separation: for they may all be apportioned to
one or other of those already mentioned.) Again, inhaling is a
form of pulling, exhaling a form of pushing: and the same is
true of spitting and of all other motions that proceed through
the body, whether secretive or assimilative, the assimilative
being forms of pulling, the secretive of pushing off. All other
kinds of locomotion must be similarly reduced, for they all fall
under one or other of our four heads. And again, of these four,
carrying and twirling are to pulling and pushing. For carrying
always follows one of the other three methods, for that which is
carried is in motion accidentally, because it is in or upon
something that is in motion, and that which carries it is in
doing so being either pulled or pushed or twirled; thus carrying
belongs to all the other three kinds of motion in common. And
twirling is a compound of pulling and pushing, for that which is
twirling a thing must be pulling one part of the thing and
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pushing another part, since it impels one part away from itself
and another part towards itself. If, therefore, it can be shown
that that which is pushing and that which is pushing and
pulling are adjacent respectively to that which is being pushed
and that which is being pulled, it will be evident that in all
locomotion there is nothing intermediate between moved and
movent. But the former fact is clear even from the definitions of
pushing and pulling, for pushing is motion to something else
from oneself or from something else, and pulling is motion from
something else to oneself or to something else, when the
motion of that which is pulling is quicker than the motion that
would separate from one another the two things that are
continuous: for it is this that causes one thing to be pulled on
along with the other. (It might indeed be thought that there is a
form of pulling that arises in another way: that wood, e.g. pulls
fire in a manner different from that described above. But it
makes no difference whether that which pulls is in motion or is
stationary when it is pulling: in the latter case it pulls to the
place where it is, while in the former it pulls to the place where
it was.) Now it is impossible to move anything either from
oneself to something else or something else to oneself without
being in contact with it: it is evident, therefore, that in all
locomotion there is nothing intermediate between moved and
movent.
Nor again is there anything intermediate between that which
undergoes and that which causes alteration: this can be proved
by induction: for in every case we find that the respective
extremities of that which causes and that which undergoes
alteration are adjacent. For our assumption is that things that
are undergoing alteration are altered in virtue of their being
affected in respect of their so-called affective qualities, since
that which is of a certain quality is altered in so far as it is
sensible, and the characteristics in which bodies differ from one
another are sensible characteristics: for every body differs from
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3
Everything, we say, that undergoes alteration is altered by
sensible causes, and there is alteration only in things that are
said to be essentially affected by sensible things. The truth of
this is to be seen from the following considerations. Of all other
things it would be most natural to suppose that there is
alteration in figures and shapes, and in acquired states and in
the processes of acquiring and losing these: but as a matter of
fact in neither of these two classes of things is there alteration.
In the first place, when a particular formation of a thing is
completed, we do not call it by the name of its material: e.g. we
do not call the statue bronze or the pyramid wax or the bed
wood, but we use a derived expression and call them of
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And the case is similar in regard to the states of the soul, all of
which (like those of body) exist in virtue of particular relations,
the excellences being perfections of nature and the defects
departures from it: moreover, excellence puts its possessor in
good condition, while defect puts its possessor in a bad
condition, to meet his proper affections. Consequently these
cannot any more than the bodily states be alterations, nor can
the processes of losing and acquiring them be so, though their
becoming is necessarily the result of an alteration of the
sensitive part of the soul, and this is altered by sensible objects:
for all moral excellence is concerned with bodily pleasures and
pains, which again depend either upon acting or upon
remembering or upon anticipating. Now those that depend
upon action are determined by sense-perception, i.e. they are
stimulated by something sensible: and those that depend upon
memory or anticipation are likewise to be traced to senseperception, for in these cases pleasure is felt either in
remembering what one has experienced or in anticipating what
one is going to experience. Thus all pleasure of this kind must
be produced by sensible things: and since the presence in any
one of moral defect or excellence involves the presence in him
of pleasure or pain (with which moral excellence and defect are
always concerned), and these pleasures and pains are
alterations of the sensitive part, it is evident that the loss and
acquisition of these states no less than the loss and acquisition
of the states of the body must be the result of the alteration of
something else. Consequently, though their becoming is
accompanied by an alteration, they are not themselves
alterations.
Again, the states of the intellectual part of the soul are not
alterations, nor is there any becoming of them. In the first place
it is much more true of the possession of knowledge that it
depends upon a particular relation. And further, it is evident
that there is no becoming of these states. For that which is
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4
A difficulty may be raised as to whether every motion is
commensurable with every other or not. Now if they are all
commensurable and if two things to have the same velocity
must accomplish an equal motion in an equal time, then we
may have a circumference equal to a straight line, or, of course,
the one may be greater or less than the other. Further, if one
thing alters and another accomplishes a locomotion in an equal
time, we may have an alteration and a locomotion equal to one
another: thus an affection will be equal to a length, which is
impossible. But is it not only when an equal motion is
accomplished by two things in an equal time that the velocities
of the two are equal? Now an affection cannot be equal to a
length. Therefore there cannot be an alteration equal to or less
than a locomotion: and consequently it is not the case that
every motion is commensurable with every other.
But how will our conclusion work out in the case of the circle
and the straight line? It would be absurd to suppose that the
motion of one in a circle and of another in a straight line cannot
be similar, but that the one must inevitably move more quickly
or more slowly than the other, just as if the course of one were
downhill and of the other uphill. Moreover it does not as a
matter of fact make any difference to the argument to say that
the one motion must inevitably be quicker or slower than the
other: for then the circumference can be greater or less than the
straight line; and if so it is possible for the two to be equal. For if
in the time A the quicker (B) passes over the distance B and the
slower (G) passes over the distance G, B will be greater than G:
for this is what we took quicker to mean: and so quicker
motion also implies that one thing traverses an equal distance
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5
Now since wherever there is a movent, its motion always acts
upon something, is always in something, and always extends to
something (by is always in something I mean that it occupies a
time: and by extends to something I mean that it involves the
traversing of a certain amount of distance: for at any moment
when a thing is causing motion, it also has caused motion, so
that there must always be a certain amount of distance that has
been traversed and a certain amount of time that has been
occupied). then, A the movement have moved B a distance G in
a time D, then in the same time the same force A will move 1/2B
twice the distance G, and in 1/2D it will move 1/2B the whole
distance for G: thus the rules of proportion will be observed.
Again if a given force move a given weight a certain distance in
a certain time and half the distance in half the time, half the
motive power will move half the weight the same distance in
the same time. Let E represent half the motive power A and Z
half the weight B: then the ratio between the motive power and
the weight in the one case is similar and proportionate to the
ratio in the other, so that each force will cause the same
distance to be traversed in the same time. But if E move Z a
distance G in a time D, it does not necessarily follow that E can
move twice Z half the distance G in the same time. If, then, A
move B a distance G in a time D, it does not follow that E, being
half of A, will in the time D or in any fraction of it cause B to
traverse a part of G the ratio between which and the whole of G
is proportionate to that between A and E (whatever fraction of
AE may be): in fact it might well be that it will cause no motion
at all; for it does not follow that, if a given motive power causes
a certain amount of motion, half that power will cause motion
either of any particular amount or in any length of time:
otherwise one man might move a ship, since both the motive
power of the ship-haulers and the distance that they all cause
the ship to traverse are divisible into as many parts as there are
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Book VIII
1
It remains to consider the following question. Was there ever a
becoming of motion before which it had no being, and is it
perishing again so as to leave nothing in motion? Or are we to
say that it never had any becoming and is not perishing, but
always was and always will be? Is it in fact an immortal neverfailing property of things that are, a sort of life as it were to all
naturally constituted things?
Now the existence of motion is asserted by all who have
anything to say about nature, because they all concern
themselves with the construction of the world and study the
question of becoming and perishing, which processes could not
come about without the existence of motion. But those who say
that there is an infinite number of worlds, some of which are in
process of becoming while others are in process of perishing,
assert that there is always motion (for these processes of
becoming and perishing of the worlds necessarily involve
motion), whereas those who hold that there is only one world,
whether everlasting or not, make corresponding assumptions in
regard to motion. If then it is possible that at any time nothing
should be in motion, this must come about in one of two ways:
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803
2
The arguments that may be advanced against this position are
not difficult to dispose of. The chief considerations that might
be thought to indicate that motion may exist though at one
time it had not existed at all are the following:
First, it may be said that no process of change is eternal: for the
nature of all change is such that it proceeds from something to
something, so that every process of change must be bounded by
the contraries that mark its course, and no motion can go on to
infinity.
Secondly, we see that a thing that neither is in motion nor
contains any motion within itself can be set in motion; e.g.
inanimate things that are (whether the whole or some part is in
question) not in motion but at rest, are at some moment set in
motion: whereas, if motion cannot have a becoming before
which it had no being, these things ought to be either always or
never in motion.
Thirdly, the fact is evident above all in the case of animate
beings: for it sometimes happens that there is no motion in us
and we are quite still, and that nevertheless we are then at
some moment set in motion, that is to say it sometimes
happens that we produce a beginning of motion in ourselves
spontaneously without anything having set us in motion from
without. We see nothing like this in the case of inanimate
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3
Our enquiry will resolve itself at the outset into a consideration
of the above-mentioned problem what can be the reason why
some things in the world at one time are in motion and at
another are at rest again? Now one of three things must be true:
either all things are always at rest, or all things are always in
motion, or some things are in motion and others at rest: and in
this last case again either the things that are in motion are
always in motion and the things that are at rest are always at
rest, or they are all constituted so as to be capable alike of
motion and of rest; or there is yet a third possibility remaining
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it does not follow that half the amount has previously been
extruded or removed in half the time: the case of the hauled
ship is exactly comparable: here we have so many drops setting
so much in motion, but a part of them will not set as much in
motion in any period of time. The amount removed is, it is true,
divisible into a number of parts, but no one of these was set in
motion separately: they were all set in motion together. It is
evident, then, that from the fact that the decrease is divisible
into an infinite number of parts it does not follow that some
part must always be passing away: it all passes away at a
particular moment. Similarly, too, in the case of any alteration
whatever if that which suffers alteration is infinitely divisible it
does not follow from this that the same is true of the alteration
itself, which often occurs all at once, as in freezing. Again, when
any one has fallen ill, there must follow a period of time in
which his restoration to health is in the future: the process of
change cannot take place in an instant: yet the change cannot
be a change to anything else but health. The assertion.
therefore, that alteration is continuous is an extravagant calling
into question of the obvious: for alteration is a change from one
contrary to another. Moreover, we notice that a stone becomes
neither harder nor softer. Again, in the matter of locomotion, it
would be a strange thing if a stone could be falling or resting on
the ground without our being able to perceive the fact. Further,
it is a law of nature that earth and all other bodies should
remain in their proper places and be moved from them only by
violence: from the fact then that some of them are in their
proper places it follows that in respect of place also all things
cannot be in motion. These and other similar arguments, then,
should convince us that it is impossible either that all things are
always in motion or that all things are always at rest.
Nor again can it be that some things are always at rest, others
always in motion, and nothing sometimes at rest and
sometimes in motion. This theory must be pronounced
808
4
Now of things that cause motion or suffer motion, to some the
motion is accidental, to others essential: thus it is accidental to
what merely belongs to or contains as a part a thing that causes
motion or suffers motion, essential to a thing that causes
motion or suffers motion not merely by belonging to such a
thing or containing it as a part.
Of things to which the motion is essential some derive their
motion from themselves, others from something else: and in
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5
Now this may come about in either of two ways. Either the
movent is not itself responsible for the motion, which is to be
referred to something else which moves the movent, or the
movent is itself responsible for the motion. Further, in the latter
case, either the movent immediately precedes the last thing in
the series, or there may be one or more intermediate links: e.g.
the stick moves the stone and is moved by the hand, which
again is moved by the man: in the man, however, we have
reached a movent that is not so in virtue of being moved by
something else. Now we say that the thing is moved both by the
last and by the first movent in the series, but more strictly by
the first, since the first movent moves the last, whereas the last
does not move the first, and the first will move the thing
without the last, but the last will not move it without the first:
e.g. the stick will not move anything unless it is itself moved by
the man. If then everything that is in motion must be moved by
something, and the movent must either itself be moved by
something else or not, and in the former case there must be
some first movent that is not itself moved by anything else,
while in the case of the immediate movent being of this kind
there is no need of an intermediate movent that is also moved
(for it is impossible that there should be an infinite series of
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from itself: and that which is further from the thing that is
moved is nearer to the principle of motion than that which is
intermediate. In the second place, there is no necessity for the
movent part to be moved by anything but itself: so it can only be
accidentally that the other part moves it in return. I take then
the possible case of its not moving it: then there will be a part
that is moved and a part that is an unmoved movent. In the
third place, there is no necessity for the movent to be moved in
return: on the contrary the necessity that there should always
be motion makes it necessary that there should be some
movent that is either unmoved or moved by itself. In the fourth
place we should then have a thing undergoing the same motion
that it is causing that which is producing heat, therefore, being
heated. But as a matter of fact that which primarily moves itself
cannot contain either a single part that moves itself or a
number of parts each of which moves itself. For, if the whole is
moved by itself, it must be moved either by some part of itself
or as a whole by itself as a whole. If, then, it is moved in virtue
of some part of it being moved by that part itself, it is this part
that will be the primary self-movent, since, if this part is
separated from the whole, the part will still move itself, but the
whole will do so no longer. If on the other hand the whole is
moved by itself as a whole, it must be accidentally that the parts
move themselves: and therefore, their self-motion not being
necessary, we may take the case of their not being moved by
themselves. Therefore in the whole of the thing we may
distinguish that which imparts motion without itself being
moved and that which is moved: for only in this way is it
possible for a thing to be self-moved. Further, if the whole
moves itself we may distinguish in it that which imparts the
motion and that which is moved: so while we say that AB is
moved by itself, we may also say that it is moved by A. And
since that which imparts motion may be either a thing that is
moved by something else or a thing that is unmoved, and that
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Since there must always be motion without intermission, there
must necessarily be something, one thing or it may be a
plurality, that first imparts motion, and this first movent must
be unmoved. Now the question whether each of the things that
are unmoved but impart motion is eternal is irrelevant to our
present argument: but the following considerations will make it
clear that there must necessarily be some such thing, which,
while it has the capacity of moving something else, is itself
unmoved and exempt from all change, which can affect it
neither in an unqualified nor in an accidental sense. Let us
suppose, if any one likes, that in the case of certain things it is
possible for them at different times to be and not to be, without
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things that are always unmoved and some things that are
always in motion. In the course of our argument directed to this
end we established the fact that everything that is in motion is
moved by something, and that the movent is either unmoved or
in motion, and that, if it is in motion, it is moved either by itself
or by something else and so on throughout the series: and so we
proceeded to the position that the first principle that directly
causes things that are in motion to be moved is that which
moves itself, and the first principle of the whole series is the
unmoved. Further it is evident from actual observation that
there are things that have the characteristic of moving
themselves, e.g. the animal kingdom and the whole class of
living things. This being so, then, the view was suggested that
perhaps it may be possible for motion to come to be in a thing
without having been in existence at all before, because we see
this actually occurring in animals: they are unmoved at one
time and then again they are in motion, as it seems. We must
grasp the fact, therefore, that animals move themselves only
with one kind of motion, and that this is not strictly originated
by them. The cause of it is not derived from the animal itself: it
is connected with other natural motions in animals, which they
do not experience through their own instrumentality, e.g.
increase, decrease, and respiration: these are experienced by
every animal while it is at rest and not in motion in respect of
the motion set up by its own agency: here the motion is caused
by the atmosphere and by many things that enter into the
animal: thus in some cases the cause is nourishment: when it is
being digested animals sleep, and when it is being distributed
through the system they awake and move themselves, the first
principle of this motion being thus originally derived from
outside. Therefore animals are not always in continuous motion
by their own agency: it is something else that moves them, itself
being in motion and changing as it comes into relation with
each several thing that moves itself. (Moreover in all these self-
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This matter will be made clearer, however, if we start afresh
from another point. We must consider whether it is or is not
possible that there should be a continuous motion, and, if it is
possible, which this motion is, and which is the primary motion:
for it is plain that if there must always be motion, and a
particular motion is primary and continuous, then it is this
motion that is imparted by the first movent, and so it is
necessarily one and the same and continuous and primary.
Now of the three kinds of motion that there are motion in
respect of magnitude, motion in respect of affection, and
motion in respect of place it is this last, which we call
locomotion, that must be primary. This may be shown as
follows. It is impossible that there should be increase without
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8
Let us now proceed to maintain that it is possible that there
should be an infinite motion that is single and continuous, and
that this motion is rotatory motion. The motion of everything
that is in process of locomotion is either rotatory or rectilinear
or a compound of the two: consequently, if one of the former
two is not continuous, that which is composed of them both
cannot be continuous either. Now it is plain that if the
locomotion of a thing is rectilinear and finite it is not
continuous locomotion: for the thing must turn back, and that
which turns back in a straight line undergoes two contrary
locomotions, since, so far as motion in respect of place is
concerned, upward motion is the contrary of downward motion,
forward motion of backward motion, and motion to the left of
motion to the right, these being the pairs of contraries in the
sphere of place. But we have already defined single and
continuous motion to be motion of a single thing in a single
period of time and operating within a sphere admitting of no
further specific differentiation (for we have three things to
consider, first that which is in motion, e.g. a man or a god,
833
secondly the when of the motion, that is to say, the time, and
thirdly the sphere within which it operates, which may be
either place or affection or essential form or magnitude): and
contraries are specifically not one and the same but distinct:
and within the sphere of place we have the above-mentioned
distinctions. Moreover we have an indication that motion from
A to B is the contrary of motion from B to A in the fact that, if
they occur at the same time, they arrest and stop each other.
And the same is true in the case of a circle: the motion from A
towards B is the contrary of the motion from A towards G: for
even if they are continuous and there is no turning back they
arrest each other, because contraries annihilate or obstruct one
another. On the other hand lateral motion is not the contrary of
upward motion. But what shows most clearly that rectilinear
motion cannot be continuous is the fact that turning back
necessarily implies coming to a stand, not only when it is a
straight line that is traversed, but also in the case of locomotion
in a circle (which is not the same thing as rotatory locomotion:
for, when a thing merely traverses a circle, it may either proceed
on its course without a break or turn back again when it has
reached the same point from which it started). We may assure
ourselves of the necessity of this coming to a stand not only on
the strength of observation, but also on theoretical grounds. We
may start as follows: we have three points, starting-point,
middle-point, and finishing-point, of which the middle-point in
virtue of the relations in which it stands severally to the other
two is both a starting-point and a finishing-point, and though
numerically one is theoretically two. We have further the
distinction between the potential and the actual. So in the
straight line in question any one of the points lying between the
two extremes is potentially a middle-point: but it is not actually
so unless that which is in motion divides the line by coming to
a stand at that point and beginning its motion again: thus the
middle-point becomes both a starting-point and a goal, the
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9
It can now be shown plainly that rotation is the primary
locomotion. Every locomotion, as we said before, is either
rotatory or rectilinear or a compound of the two: and the two
former must be prior to the last, since they are the elements of
which the latter consists. Moreover rotatory locomotion is prior
to rectilinear locomotion, because it is more simple and
complete, which may be shown as follows. The straight line
traversed in rectilinear motion cannot be infinite: for there is no
such thing as an infinite straight line; and even if there were, it
would not be traversed by anything in motion: for the
impossible does not happen and it is impossible to traverse an
infinite distance. On the other hand rectilinear motion on a
finite straight line is if it turns back a composite motion, in fact
two motions, while if it does not turn back it is incomplete and
perishable: and in the order of nature, of definition, and of time
alike the complete is prior to the incomplete and the
imperishable to the perishable. Again, a motion that admits of
being eternal is prior to one that does not. Now rotatory motion
can be eternal: but no other motion, whether locomotion or
motion of any other kind, can be so, since in all of them rest
must occur and with the occurrence of rest the motion has
perished. Moreover the result at which we have arrived, that
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We have now to assert that the first movent must be without
parts and without magnitude, beginning with the establishment
of the premisses on which this conclusion depends.
One of these premisses is that nothing finite can cause motion
during an infinite time. We have three things, the movent, the
moved, and thirdly that in which the motion takes place,
namely the time: and these are either all infinite or all finite or
partly that is to say two of them or one of them finite and
partly infinite. Let A be the movement, B the moved, and G the
infinite time. Now let us suppose that D moves E, a part of B.
Then the time occupied by this motion cannot be equal to G: for
the greater the amount moved, the longer the time occupied. It
follows that the time Z is not infinite. Now we see that by
continuing to add to D, I shall use up A and by continuing to add
to E, I shall use up B: but I shall not use up the time by
continually subtracting a corresponding amount from it,
because it is infinite. Consequently the duration of the part of G
which is occupied by all A in moving the whole of B, will be
finite. Therefore a finite thing cannot impart to anything an
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851
Book I
1
The science which has to do with nature clearly concerns itself for
the most part with bodies and magnitudes and their properties and
movements, but also with the principles of this sort of substance, as
many as they may be. For of things constituted by nature some are
bodies and magnitudes, some possess body and magnitude, and
some are principles of things which possess these. Now a continuum
is that which is divisible into parts always capable of subdivision, and
a body is that which is every way divisible. A magnitude if divisible
one way is a line, if two ways a surface, and if three a body. Beyond
these there is no other magnitude, because the three dimensions are
all that there are, and that which is divisible in three directions is
divisible in all. For, as the Pythagoreans say, the world and all that is
in it is determined by the number three, since beginning and middle
and end give the number of an all, and the number they give is the
triad. And so, having taken these three from nature as (so to speak)
laws of it, we make further use of the number three in the worship of
the Gods. Further, we use the terms in practice in this way. Of two
things, or men, we say both, but not all: three is the first number to
which the term all has been appropriated. And in this, as we have
said, we do but follow the lead which nature gives. Therefore, since
every and all and complete do not differ from one another in
respect of form, but only, if at all, in their matter and in that to which
they are applied, body alone among magnitudes can be complete. For
it alone is determined by the three dimensions, that is, is an all. But
if it is divisible in three dimensions it is every way divisible, while the
other magnitudes are divisible in one dimension or in two alone: for
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2
The question as to the nature of the whole, whether it is infinite in
size or limited in its total mass, is a matter for subsequent inquiry.
We will now speak of those parts of the whole which are specifically
distinct. Let us take this as our starting-point. All natural bodies and
magnitudes we hold to be, as such, capable of locomotion; for nature,
we say, is their principle of movement. But all movement that is in
place, all locomotion, as we term it, is either straight or circular or a
combination of these two, which are the only simple movements.
And the reason of this is that these two, the straight and the circular
line, are the only simple magnitudes. Now revolution about the
centre is circular motion, while the upward and downward
movements are in a straight line, upward meaning motion away
from the centre, and downward motion towards it. All simple
motion, then, must be motion either away from or towards or about
the centre. This seems to be in exact accord with what we said above:
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3
In consequence of what has been said, in part by way of assumption
and in part by way of proof, it is clear that not every body either
possesses lightness or heaviness. As a preliminary we must explain
in what sense we are using the words heavy and light, sufficiently,
at least, for our present purpose: we can examine the terms more
closely later, when we come to consider their essential nature. Let us
then apply the term heavy to that which naturally moves towards
the centre, and light to that which moves naturally away from the
centre. The heaviest thing will be that which sinks to the bottom of
all things that move downward, and the lightest that which rises to
the surface of everything that moves upward. Now, necessarily,
everything which moves either up or down possesses lightness or
heaviness or both but not both relatively to the same thing: for
things are heavy and light relatively to one another; air, for instance,
is light relatively to water, and water light relatively to earth. The
body, then, which moves in a circle cannot possibly possess either
heaviness or lightness. For neither naturally nor unnaturally can it
move either towards or away from the centre. Movement in a straight
line certainly does not belong to it naturally, since one sort of
movement is, as we saw, appropriate to each simple body, and so we
should be compelled to identify it with one of the bodies which move
in this way. Suppose, then, that the movement is unnatural. In that
case, if it is the downward movement which is unnatural, the upward
movement will be natural; and if it is the upward which is unnatural,
the downward will be natural. For we decided that of contrary
movements, if the one is unnatural to anything, the other will be
natural to it. But since the natural movement of the whole and of its
part of earth, for instance, as a whole and of a small clod have one
and the same direction, it results, in the first place, that this body can
possess no lightness or heaviness at all (for that would mean that it
could move by its own nature either from or towards the centre,
which, as we know, is impossible); and, secondly, that it cannot
possibly move in the way of locomotion by being forced violently
aside in an upward or downward direction. For neither naturally nor
unnaturally can it move with any other motion but its own, either
856
itself or any part of it, since the reasoning which applies to the whole
applies also to the part.
It is equally reasonable to assume that this body will be ungenerated
and indestructible and exempt from increase and alteration, since
everything that comes to be comes into being from its contrary and
in some substrate, and passes away likewise in a substrate by the
action of the contrary into the contrary, as we explained in our
opening discussions. Now the motions of contraries are contrary. If
then this body can have no contrary, because there can be no
contrary motion to the circular, nature seems justly to have
exempted from contraries the body which was to be ungenerated and
indestructible. For it is in contraries that generation and decay
subsist. Again, that which is subject to increase increases upon
contact with a kindred body, which is resolved into its matter. But
there is nothing out of which this body can have been generated. And
if it is exempt from increase and diminution, the same reasoning
leads us to suppose that it is also unalterable. For alteration is
movement in respect of quality; and qualitative states and
dispositions, such as health and disease, do not come into being
without changes of properties. But all natural bodies which change
their properties we see to be subject without exception to increase
and diminution. This is the case, for instance, with the bodies of
animals and their parts and with vegetable bodies, and similarly also
with those of the elements. And so, if the body which moves with a
circular motion cannot admit of increase or diminution, it is
reasonable to suppose that it is also unalterable.
The reasons why the primary body is eternal and not subject to
increase or diminution, but unaging and unalterable and unmodified,
will be clear from what has been said to any one who believes in our
assumptions. Our theory seems to confirm experience and to be
confirmed by it. For all men have some conception of the nature of
the gods, and all who believe in the existence of gods at all, whether
barbarian or Greek, agree in allotting the highest place to the deity,
surely because they suppose that immortal is linked with immortal
and regard any other supposition as inconceivable. If then there is, as
there certainly is, anything divine, what we have just said about the
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primary bodily substance was well said. The mere evidence of the
senses is enough to convince us of this, at least with human
certainty. For in the whole range of time past, so far as our inherited
records reach, no change appears to have taken place either in the
whole scheme of the outermost heaven or in any of its proper parts.
The common name, too, which has been handed down from our
distant ancestors even to our own day, seems to show that they
conceived of it in the fashion which we have been expressing. The
same ideas, one must believe, recur in mens minds not once or twice
but again and again. And so, implying that the primary body is
something else beyond earth, fire, air, and water, they gave the
highest place a name of its own, aither, derived from the fact that it
runs always for an eternity of time. Anaxagoras, however,
scandalously misuses this name, taking aither as equivalent to fire.
It is also clear from what has been said why the number of what we
call simple bodies cannot be greater than it is. The motion of a simple
body must itself be simple, and we assert that there are only these
two simple motions, the circular and the straight, the latter being
subdivided into motion away from and motion towards the centre.
4
That there is no other form of motion opposed as contrary to the
circular may be proved in various ways. In the first place, there is an
obvious tendency to oppose the straight line to the circular. For
concave and convex are a not only regarded as opposed to one
another, but they are also coupled together and treated as a unity in
opposition to the straight. And so, if there is a contrary to circular
motion, motion in a straight line must be recognized as having the
best claim to that name. But the two forms of rectilinear motion are
opposed to one another by reason of their places; for up and down is
a difference and a contrary opposition in place. Secondly, it may be
thought that the same reasoning which holds good of the rectilinear
path applies also the circular, movement from A to B being opposed
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5
This being clear, we must go on to consider the questions which
remain. First, is there an infinite body, as the majority of the ancient
philosophers thought, or is this an impossibility? The decision of this
question, either way, is not unimportant, but rather all-important, to
our search for the truth. It is this problem which has practically
always been the source of the differences of those who have written
about nature as a whole. So it has been and so it must be; since the
least initial deviation from the truth is multiplied later a
thousandfold. Admit, for instance, the existence of a minimum
magnitude, and you will find that the minimum which you have
introduced, small as it is, causes the greatest truths of mathematics
to totter. The reason is that a principle is great rather in power than
in extent; hence that which was small at the start turns out a giant at
the end. Now the conception of the infinite possesses this power of
principles, and indeed in the sphere of quantity possesses it in a
higher degree than any other conception; so that it is in no way
absurd or unreasonable that the assumption that an infinite body
exists should be of peculiar moment to our inquiry. The infinite, then,
we must now discuss, opening the whole matter from the beginning.
Every body is necessarily to be classed either as simple or as
composite; the infinite body, therefore, will be either simple or
composite.
But it is clear, further, that if the simple bodies are finite, the
composite must also be finite, since that which is composed of
bodies finite both in number and in magnitude is itself finite in
respect of number and magnitude: its quantity is in fact the same as
that of the bodies which compose it. What remains for us to consider,
then, is whether any of the simple bodies can be infinite in
magnitude, or whether this is impossible. Let us try the primary body
first, and then go on to consider the others.
The body which moves in a circle must necessarily be finite in every
respect, for the following reasons. (1) If the body so moving is infinite,
the radii drawn from the centre will be infinite. But the space
between infinite radii is infinite: and by the space between the radii I
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(6) Again, if the heaven is infinite and moves in a circle, we shall have
to admit that in a finite time it has traversed the infinite. For suppose
the fixed heaven infinite, and that which moves within it equal to it.
It results that when the infinite body has completed its revolution, it
has traversed an infinite equal to itself in a finite time. But that we
know to be impossible.
(7) It can also be shown, conversely, that if the time of revolution is
finite, the area traversed must also be finite; but the area traversed
was equal to itself; therefore, it is itself finite.
We have now shown that the body which moves in a circle is not
endless or infinite, but has its limit.
6
Further, neither that which moves towards nor that which moves
away from the centre can be infinite. For the upward and downward
motions are contraries and are therefore motions towards contrary
places. But if one of a pair of contraries is determinate, the other
must be determinate also. Now the centre is determined; for, from
whatever point the body which sinks to the bottom starts its
downward motion, it cannot go farther than the centre. The centre,
therefore, being determinate, the upper place must also be
determinate. But if these two places are determined and finite, the
corresponding bodies must also be finite. Further, if up and down are
determinate, the intermediate place is also necessarily determinate.
For, if it is indeterminate, the movement within it will be infinite; and
that we have already shown to be an impossibility. The middle region
then is determinate, and consequently any body which either is in it,
or might be in it, is determinate. But the bodies which move up and
down may be in it, since the one moves naturally away from the
centre and the other towards it.
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7
Every body must necessarily be either finite or infinite, and if infinite,
either of similar or of dissimilar parts. If its parts are dissimilar, they
must represent either a finite or an infinite number of kinds. That the
kinds cannot be infinite is evident, if our original presuppositions
remain unchallenged. For the primary movements being finite in
number, the kinds of simple body are necessarily also finite, since the
movement of a simple body is simple, and the simple movements are
finite, and every natural body must always have its proper motion.
Now if the infinite body is to be composed of a finite number of
kinds, then each of its parts must necessarily be infinite in quantity,
that is to say, the water, fire, &c., which compose it. But this is
impossible, because, as we have already shown, infinite weight and
lightness do not exist. Moreover it would be necessary also that their
places should be infinite in extent, so that the movements too of all
these bodies would be infinite. But this is not possible, if we are to
hold to the truth of our original presuppositions and to the view that
neither that which moves downward, nor, by the same reasoning,
that which moves upward, can prolong its movement to infinity. For
it is true in regard to quality, quantity, and place alike that any
process of change is impossible which can have no end. I mean that
if it is impossible for a thing to have come to be white, or a cubit long,
or in Egypt, it is also impossible for it to be in process of coming to be
any of these. It is thus impossible for a thing to be moving to a place
at which in its motion it can never by any possibility arrive. Again,
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8
We must now proceed to explain why there cannot be more than one
heaven the further question mentioned above. For it may be
thought that we have not proved universal of bodies that none
whatever can exist outside our universe, and that our argument
applied only to those of indeterminate extent.
Now all things rest and move naturally and by constraint. A thing
moves naturally to a place in which it rests without constraint, and
rests naturally in a place to which it moves without constraint. On
the other hand, a thing moves by constraint to a place in which it
rests by constraint, and rests by constraint in a place to which it
moves by constraint. Further, if a given movement is due to
constraint, its contrary is natural. If, then, it is by constraint that
earth moves from a certain place to the centre here, its movement
from here to there will be natural, and if earth from there rests here
without constraint, its movement hither will be natural. And the
natural movement in each case is one. Further, these worlds, being
similar in nature to ours, must all be composed of the same bodies as
it. Moreover each of the bodies, fire, I mean, and earth and their
intermediates, must have the same power as in our world. For if
these names are used equivocally, if the identity of name does not
rest upon an identity of form in these elements and ours, then the
whole to which they belong can only be called a world by
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from any other. What I mean is this: if the portions in this world
behave similarly both to one another and to those in another world,
then the portion which is taken hence will not behave differently
either from the portions in another world or from those in the same
world, but similarly to them, since in form no portion differs from
another. The result is that we must either abandon our present
assumption or assert that the centre and the extremity are each
numerically one. But this being so, the heaven, by the same evidence
and the same necessary inferences, must be one only and no more.
A consideration of the other kinds of movement also makes it plain
that there is some point to which earth and fire move naturally. For
in general that which is moved changes from something into
something, the starting-point and the goal being different in form,
and always it is a finite change. For instance, to recover health is to
change from disease to health, to increase is to change from
smallness to greatness. Locomotion must be similar: for it also has its
goal and starting-point and therefore the starting-point and the
goal of the natural movement must differ in form just as the
movement of coming to health does not take any direction which
chance or the wishes of the mover may select. Thus, too, fire and
earth move not to infinity but to opposite points; and since the
opposition in place is between above and below, these will be the
limits of their movement. (Even in circular movement there is a sort
of opposition between the ends of the diameter, though the
movement as a whole has no contrary: so that here too the
movement has in a sense an opposed and finite goal.) There must
therefore be some end to locomotion: it cannot continue to infinity.
This conclusion that local movement is not continued to infinity is
corroborated by the fact that earth moves more quickly the nearer it
is to the centre, and fire the nearer it is to the upper place. But if
movement were infinite speed would be infinite also; and if speed
then weight and lightness. For as superior speed in downward
movement implies superior weight, so infinite increase of weight
necessitates infinite increase of speed.
872
Further, it is not the action of another body that makes one of these
bodies move up and the other down; nor is it constraint, like the
extrusion of some writers. For in that case the larger the mass of fire
or earth the slower would be the upward or downward movement;
but the fact is the reverse: the greater the mass of fire or earth the
quicker always is its movement towards its own place. Again, the
speed of the movement would not increase towards the end if it were
due to constraint or extrusion; for a constrained movement always
diminishes in speed as the source of constraint becomes more
distant, and a body moves without constraint to the place whence it
was moved by constraint.
A consideration of these points, then, gives adequate assurance of
the truth of our contentions. The same could also be shown with the
aid of the discussions which fall under First Philosophy, as well as
from the nature of the circular movement, which must be eternal
both here and in the other worlds. It is plain, too, from the following
considerations that the universe must be one.
The bodily elements are three, and therefore the places of the
elements will be three also; the place, first, of the body which sinks to
the bottom, namely the region about the centre; the place, secondly,
of the revolving body, namely the outermost place, and thirdly, the
intermediate place, belonging to the intermediate body. Here in this
third place will be the body which rises to the surface; since, if not
here, it will be elsewhere, and it cannot be elsewhere: for we have
two bodies, one weightless, one endowed with weight, and below is
place of the body endowed with weight, since the region about the
centre has been given to the heavy body. And its position cannot be
unnatural to it, for it would have to be natural to something else, and
there is nothing else. It must then occupy the intermediate place.
What distinctions there are within the intermediate itself we will
explain later on.
We have now said enough to make plain the character and number of
the bodily elements, the place of each, and further, in general, how
many in number the various places are.
873
9
We must show not only that the heaven is one, but also that more
than one heaven is and, further, that, as exempt from decay and
generation, the heaven is eternal. We may begin by raising a
difficulty. From one point of view it might seem impossible that the
heaven should be one and unique, since in all formations and
products whether of nature or of art we can distinguish the shape in
itself and the shape in combination with matter. For instance the
form of the sphere is one thing and the gold or bronze sphere
another; the shape of the circle again is one thing, the bronze or
wooden circle another. For when we state the essential nature of the
sphere or circle we do not include in the formula gold or bronze,
because they do not belong to the essence, but if we are speaking of
the copper or gold sphere we do include them. We still make the
distinction even if we cannot conceive or apprehend any other
example beside the particular thing. This may, of course, sometimes
be the case: it might be, for instance, that only one circle could be
found; yet none the less the difference will remain between the being
of circle and of this particular circle, the one being form, the other
form in matter, i.e. a particular thing. Now since the universe is
perceptible it must be regarded as a particular; for everything that is
perceptible subsists, as we know, in matter. But if it is a particular,
there will be a distinction between the being of this universe and of
universe unqualified. There is a difference, then, between this
universe and simple universe; the second is form and shape, the
first form in combination with matter; and any shape or form has, or
may have, more than one particular instance.
On the supposition of Forms such as some assert, this must be the
case, and equally on the view that no such entity has a separate
existence. For in every case in which the essence is in matter it is a
fact of observation that the particulars of like form are several or
infinite in number. Hence there either are, or may be, more heavens
than one. On these grounds, then, it might be inferred either that
there are or that there might be several heavens. We must, however,
874
return and ask how much of this argument is correct and how much
not.
Now it is quite right to say that the formula of the shape apart from
the matter must be different from that of the shape in the matter,
and we may allow this to be true. We are not, however, therefore
compelled to assert a plurality of worlds. Such a plurality is in fact
impossible if this world contains the entirety of matter, as in fact it
does. But perhaps our contention can be made clearer in this way.
Suppose aquilinity to be curvature in the nose or flesh, and flesh to
be the matter of aquilinity. Suppose further, that all flesh came
together into a single whole of flesh endowed with this aquiline
quality. Then neither would there be, nor could there arise, any other
thing that was aquiline. Similarly, suppose flesh and bones to be the
matter of man, and suppose a man to be created of all flesh and all
bones in indissoluble union. The possibility of another man would be
removed. Whatever case you took it would be the same. The general
rule is this: a thing whose essence resides in a substratum of matter
can never come into being in the absence of all matter. Now the
universe is certainly a particular and a material thing: if however, it is
composed not of a part but of the whole of matter, then though the
being of universe and of this universe are still distinct, yet there is
no other universe, and no possibility of others being made, because
all the matter is already included in this. It remains, then, only to
prove that it is composed of all natural perceptible body.
First, however, we must explain what we mean by heaven and in
how many senses we use the word, in order to make clearer the
object of our inquiry. (a) In one sense, then, we call heaven the
substance of the extreme circumference of the whole, or that natural
body whose place is at the extreme circumference. We recognize
habitually a special right to the name heaven in the extremity or
upper region, which we take to be the seat of all that is divine. (b) In
another sense, we use this name for the body continuous with the
extreme circumference which contains the moon, the sun, and some
of the stars; these we say are in the heaven. (c) In yet another sense
we give the name to all body included within extreme circumference,
875
since we habitually call the whole or totality the heaven. The word,
then, is used in three senses.
Now the whole included within the extreme circumference must be
composed of all physical and sensible body, because there neither is,
nor can come into being, any body outside the heaven. For if there is
a natural body outside the extreme circumference it must be either a
simple or a composite body, and its position must be either natural or
unnatural. But it cannot be any of the simple bodies. For, first, it has
been shown that that which moves in a circle cannot change its
place. And, secondly, it cannot be that which moves from the centre
or that which lies lowest. Naturally they could not be there, since
their proper places are elsewhere; and if these are there unnaturally,
the exterior place will be natural to some other body, since a place
which is unnatural to one body must be natural to another: but we
saw that there is no other body besides these. Then it is not possible
that any simple body should be outside the heaven. But, if no simple
body, neither can any mixed body be there: for the presence of the
simple body is involved in the presence of the mixture. Further
neither can any body come into that place: for it will do so either
naturally or unnaturally, and will be either simple or composite; so
that the same argument will apply, since it makes no difference
whether the question is does A exist? or could A come to exist?
From our arguments then it is evident not only that there is not, but
also that there could never come to be, any bodily mass whatever
outside the circumference. The world as a whole, therefore, includes
all its appropriate matter, which is, as we saw, natural perceptible
body. So that neither are there now, nor have there ever been, nor can
there ever be formed more heavens than one, but this heaven of ours
is one and unique and complete.
It is therefore evident that there is also no place or void or time
outside the heaven. For in every place body can be present; and void
is said to be that in which the presence of body, though not actual, is
possible; and time is the number of movement. But in the absence of
natural body there is no movement, and outside the heaven, as we
have shown, body neither exists nor can come to exist. It is clear then
that there is neither place, nor void, nor time, outside the heaven.
876
10
Having established these distinctions, we may now proceed to the
question whether the heaven is ungenerated or generated,
indestructible or destructible. Let us start with a review of the
theories of other thinkers; for the proofs of a theory are difficulties
for the contrary theory. Besides, those who have first heard the pleas
of our adversaries will be more likely to credit the assertions which
we are going to make. We shall be less open to the charge of
procuring judgement by default. To give a satisfactory decision as to
the truth it is necessary to be rather an arbitrator than a party to the
dispute.
877
That the world was generated all are agreed, but, generation over,
some say that it is eternal, others say that it is destructible like any
other natural formation. Others again, with Empedliocles of Acragas
and Heraclitus of Ephesus, believe that there is alternation in the
destructive process, which takes now this direction, now that, and
continues without end.
Now to assert that it was generated and yet is eternal is to assert the
impossible; for we cannot reasonably attribute to anything any
characteristics but those which observation detects in many or all
instances. But in this case the facts point the other way: generated
things are seen always to be destroyed. Further, a thing whose
present state had no beginning and which could not have been other
than it was at any previous moment throughout its entire duration,
cannot possibly be changed. For there will have to be some cause of
change, and if this had been present earlier it would have made
possible another condition of that to which any other condition was
impossible. Suppose that the world was formed out of elements
which were formerly otherwise conditioned than as they are now.
Then (1) if their condition was always so and could not have been
otherwise, the world could never have come into being. And (2) if the
world did come into being, then, clearly, their condition must have
been capable of change and not eternal: after combination therefore
they will be dispersed, just as in the past after dispersion they came
into combination, and this process either has been, or could have
been, indefinitely repeated. But if this is so, the world cannot be
indestructible, and it does not matter whether the change of
condition has actually occurred or remains a possibility.
Some of those who hold that the world, though indestructible, was
yet generated, try to support their case by a parallel which is illusory.
They say that in their statements about its generation they are doing
what geometricians do when they construct their figures, not
implying that the universe really had a beginning, but for didactic
reasons facilitating understanding by exhibiting the object, like the
figure, as in course of formation. The two cases, as we said, are not
parallel; for, in the construction of the figure, when the various steps
are completed the required figure forthwith results; but in these
878
879
11
We must first distinguish the senses in which we use the words
ungenerated and generated, destructible and indestructible.
These have many meanings, and though it may make no difference
to the argument, yet some confusion of mind must result from
treating as uniform in its use a word which has several distinct
applications. The character which is the ground of the predication
will always remain obscure.
The word ungenerated then is used (a) in one sense whenever
something now is which formerly was not, no process of becoming or
change being involved. Such is the case, according to some, with
contact and motion, since there is no process of coming to be in
contact or in motion. (b) It is used in another sense, when something
which is capable of coming to be, with or without process, does not
exist; such a thing is ungenerated in the sense that its generation is
not a fact but a possibility. (c) It is also applied where there is general
impossibility of any generation such that the thing now is which
then was not. And impossibility has two uses: first, where it is
untrue to say that the thing can ever come into being, and secondly,
where it cannot do so easily, quickly, or well. In the same way the
word generated is used, (a) first, where what formerly was not
afterwards is, whether a process of becoming was or was not
involved, so long as that which then was not, now is; (b) secondly, of
anything capable of existing, capable being defined with reference
either to truth or to facility; (c) thirdly, of anything to which the
passage from not being to being belongs, whether already actual, if
its existence is due to a past process of becoming, or not yet actual
but only possible. The uses of the words destructible and
indestructible are similar. Destructible is applied (a) to that which
formerly was and afterwards either is not or might not be, whether a
period of being destroyed and changed intervenes or not; and (b)
sometimes we apply the word to that which a process of destruction
may cause not to be; and also (c) in a third sense, to that which is
easily destructible, to the easily destroyed, so to speak. Of the
880
indestructible the same account holds good. It is either (a) that which
now is and now is not, without any process of destruction, like
contact, which without being destroyed afterwards is not, though
formerly it was; or (b) that which is but might not be, or which will at
some time not be, though it now is. For you exist now and so does the
contact; yet both are destructible, because a time will come when it
will not be true of you that you exist, nor of these things that they are
in contact. Thirdly (c) in its most proper use, it is that which is, but is
incapable of any destruction such that the thing which now is later
ceases to be or might cease to be; or again, that which has not yet
been destroyed, but in the future may cease to be. For indestructible
is also used of that which is destroyed with difficulty.
This being so, we must ask what we mean by possible and
impossible. For in its most proper use the predicate indestructible
is given because it is impossible that the thing should be destroyed,
i.e. exist at one time and not at another. And ungenerated also
involves impossibility when used for that which cannot be generated,
in such fashion that, while formerly it was not, later it is. An instance
is a commensurable diagonal. Now when we speak of a power to
move or to lift weights, we refer always to the maximum. We speak,
for instance, of a power to lift a hundred talents or walk a hundred
stades though a power to effect the maximum is also a power to
effect any part of the maximum since we feel obliged in defining
the power to give the limit or maximum. A thing, then, which is
within it. If, for example, a man can lift a hundred talents, he can also
lift two, and if he can walk a hundred stades, he can also walk two.
But the power is of the maximum, and a thing said, with reference to
its maximum, to be incapable of so much is also incapable of any
greater amount. It is, for instance, clear that a person who cannot
walk a thousand stades will also be unable to walk a thousand and
one. This point need not trouble us, for we may take it as settled that
what is, in the strict sense, possible is determined by a limiting
maximum. Now perhaps the objection might be raised that there is
no necessity in this, since he who sees a stade need not see the
smaller measures contained in it, while, on the contrary, he who can
see a dot or hear a small sound will perceive what is greater. This,
however, does not touch our argument. The maximum may be
881
12
Having established these distinctions we car now proceed to the
sequel. If there are thing! capable both of being and of not being,
there must be some definite maximum time of their being and not
being; a time, I mean, during which continued existence is possible to
them and a time during which continued nonexistence is possible.
And this is true in every category, whether the thing is, for example,
man, or white, or three cubits long, or whatever it may be. For if
the time is not definite in quantity, but longer than any that can be
suggested and shorter than none, then it will be possible for one and
the same thing to exist for infinite time and not to exist for another
infinity. This, however, is impossible.
Let us take our start from this point. The impossible and the false
have not the same significance. One use of impossible and possible,
and false and true, is hypothetical. It is impossible, for instance, on
a certain hypothesis that the triangle should have its angles equal to
two right angles, and on another the diagonal is commensurable. But
there are also things possible and impossible, false and true,
absolutely. Now it is one thing to be absolutely false, and another
thing to be absolutely impossible. To say that you are standing when
you are not standing is to assert a falsehood, but not an impossibility.
Similarly to say that a man who is playing the harp, but not singing,
is singing, is to say what is false but not impossible. To say, however,
that you are at once standing and sitting, or that the diagonal is
commensurable, is to say what is not only false but also impossible.
Thus it is not the same thing to make a false and to make an
impossible hypothesis, and from the impossible hypothesis
impossible results follow. A man has, it is true, the capacity at once of
sitting and of standing, because when he possesses the one he also
882
possesses the other; but it does not follow that he can at once sit and
stand, only that at another time he can do the other also. But if a
thing has for infinite time more than one capacity, another time is
impossible and the times must coincide. Thus if a thing which exists
for infinite time is destructible, it will have the capacity of not being.
Now if it exists for infinite time let this capacity be actualized; and it
will be in actuality at once existent and non-existent. Thus a false
conclusion would follow because a false assumption was made, but if
what was assumed had not been impossible its consequence would
not have been impossible.
Anything then which always exists is absolutely imperishable. It is
also ungenerated, since if it was generated it will have the power for
some time of not being. For as that which formerly was, but now is
not, or is capable at some future time of not being, is destructible, so
that which is capable of formerly not having been is generated. But in
the case of that which always is, there is no time for such a capacity
of not being, whether the supposed time is finite or infinite; for its
capacity of being must include the finite time since it covers infinite
time.
It is therefore impossible that one and the same thing should be
capable of always existing and of always not-existing. And not
always existing, the contradictory, is also excluded. Thus it is
impossible for a thing always to exist and yet to be destructible. Nor,
similarly, can it be generated. For of two attributes if B cannot be
present without A, the impossibility A of proves the impossibility of
B. What always is, then, since it is incapable of ever not being, cannot
possibly be generated. But since the contradictory of that which is
always capable of being that which is not always capable of being;
while that which is always capable of not being is the contrary,
whose contradictory in turn is that which is not always capable of
not being, it is necessary that the contradictories of both terms
should be predicable of one and the same thing, and thus that,
intermediate between what always is and what always is not, there
should be that to which being and not-being are both possible; for
the contradictory of each will at times be true of it unless it always
exists. Hence that which not always is not will sometimes be and
883
sometimes not be; and it is clear that this is true also of that which
cannot always be but sometimes is and therefore sometimes is not.
One thing, then, will have the power of being, and will thus be
intermediate between the other two.
Expresed universally our argument is as follows. Let there be two
attributes, A and B, not capable of being present in any one thing
together, while either A or C and either B or D are capable of being
present in everything. Then C and D must be predicated of everything
of which neither A nor B is predicated. Let E lie between A and B; for
that which is neither of two contraries is a mean between them. In E
both C and D must be present, for either A or C is present everywhere
and therefore in E. Since then A is impossible, C must be present, and
the same argument holds of D.
Neither that which always is, therefore, nor that which always is not
is either generated or destructible. And clearly whatever is generated
or destructible is not eternal. If it were, it would be at once capable of
always being and capable of not always being, but it has already been
shown that this is impossible. Surely then whatever is ungenerated
and in being must be eternal, and whatever is indestructible and in
being must equally be so. (I use the words ungenerated and
indestructible in their proper sense, ungenerated for that which
now is and could not at any previous time have been truly said not to
be; indestructible for that which now is and cannot at any future
time be truly said not to be.) If, again, the two terms are coincident, if
the ungenerated is indestructible, and the indestructible
ungenearted, then each of them is coincident with eternal; anything
ungenerated is eternal and anything indestructible is eternal. This is
clear too from the definition of the terms, Whatever is destructible
must be generated; for it is either ungenerated, or generated, but, if
ungenerated, it is by hypothesis indestructible. Whatever, further, is
generated must be destructible. For it is either destructible or
indestructible, but, if indestructible, it is by hypothesis ungenerated.
If, however, indestructible and ungenerated are not coincident,
there is no necessity that either the ungenerated or the
indestructible should be eternal. But they must be coincident, for the
884
one direction is neither infinite or finite. (2) Further, why, after always
existing, was the thing destroyed, why, after an infinity of not being,
was it generated, at one moment rather than another? If every
moment is alike and the moments are infinite in number, it is clear
that a generated or destructible thing existed for an infinite time. It
has therefore for an infinite time the capacity of not being (since the
capacity of being and the capacity of not being will be present
together), if destructible, in the time before destruction, if generated,
in the time after generation. If then we assume the two capacities to
be actualized, opposites will be present together. (3) Further, this
second capacity will be present like the first at every moment, so that
the thing will have for an infinite time the capacity both of being and
of not being; but this has been shown to be impossible. (4) Again, if
the capacity is present prior to the activity, it will be present for all
time, even while the thing was as yet ungenerated and non-existent,
throughout the infinite time in which it was capable of being
generated. At that time, then, when it was not, at that same time it
had the capacity of being, both of being then and of being thereafter,
and therefore for an infinity of time.
It is clear also on other grounds that it is impossible that the
destructible should not at some time be destroyed. For otherwise it
will always be at once destructible and in actuality indestructible, so
that it will be at the same time capable of always existing and of not
always existing. Thus the destructible is at some time actually
destroyed. The generable, similarly, has been generated, for it is
capable of having been generated and thus also of not always
existing.
We may also see in the following way how impossible it is either for a
thing which is generated to be thenceforward indestructible, or for a
thing which is ungenerated and has always hitherto existed to be
destroyed. Nothing that is by chance can be indestructible or
ungenerated, since the products of chance and fortune are opposed
to what is, or comes to be, always or usually, while anything which
exists for a time infinite either absolutely or in one direction, is in
existence either always or usually. That which is by chance, then, is
by nature such as to exist at one time and not at another. But in
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Book II
887
1
That the heaven as a whole neither came into being nor admits of
destruction, as some assert, but is one and eternal, with no end or
beginning of its total duration, containing and embracing in itself the
infinity of time, we may convince ourselves not only by the
arguments already set forth but also by a consideration of the views
of those who differ from us in providing for its generation. If our view
is a possible one, and the manner of generation which they assert is
impossible, this fact will have great weight in convincing us of the
immortality and eternity of the world. Hence it is well to persuade
oneself of the truth of the ancient and truly traditional theories, that
there is some immortal and divine thing which possesses movement,
but movement such as has no limit and is rather itself the limit of all
other movement. A limit is a thing which contains; and this motion,
being perfect, contains those imperfect motions which have a limit
and a goal, having itself no beginning or end, but unceasing through
the infinity of time, and of other movements, to some the cause of
their beginning, to others offering the goal. The ancients gave to the
Gods the heaven or upper place, as being alone immortal; and our
present argument testifies that it is indestructible and ungenerated.
Further, it is unaffected by any mortal discomfort, and, in addition,
effortless; for it needs no constraining necessity to keep it to its path,
and prevent it from moving with some other movement more natural
to itself. Such a constrained movement would necessarily involve
effort the more so, the more eternal it were and would be
inconsistent with perfection. Hence we must not believe the old tale
which says that the world needs some Atlas to keep it safe a tale
composed, it would seem, by men who, like later thinkers, conceived
of all the upper bodies as earthy and endowed with weight, and
therefore supported it in their fabulous way upon animate necessity.
We must no more believe that than follow Empedocles when he says
that the world, by being whirled round, received a movement quick
enough to overpower its own downward tendency, and thus has been
kept from destruction all this time. Nor, again, is it conceivable that it
should persist eternally by the necessitation of a soul. For a soul
could not live in such conditions painlessly or happily, since the
movement involves constraint, being imposed on the first body,
888
2
Since there are some who say that there is a right and a left in the
heaven, with those who are known as Pythagoreans to whom
indeed the view really belongs we must consider whether, if we are
to apply these principles to the body of the universe, we should
follow their statement of the matter or find a better way. At the start
we may say that, if right and left are applicable, there are prior
principles which must first be applied. These principles have been
analysed in the discussion of the movements of animals, for the
reason that they are proper to animal nature. For in some animals we
find all such distinctions of parts as this of right and left clearly
present, and in others some; but in plants we find only above and
below. Now if we are to apply to the heaven such a distinction of
parts, we must exect, as we have said, to find in it also the distinction
which in animals is found first of them all. The distinctions are three,
namely, above and below, front and its opposite, right and left all
these three oppositions we expect to find in the perfect body and
each may be called a principle. Above is the principle of length, right
of breadth, front of depth. Or again we may connect them with the
various movements, taking principle to mean that part, in a thing
capable of movement, from which movement first begins. Growth
starts from above, locomotion from the right, sensemovement from
in front (for front is simply the part to which the senses are directed).
Hence we must not look for above and below, right and left, front and
889
back, in every kind of body, but only in those which, being animate,
have a principle of movement within themselves. For in no inanimate
thing do we observe a part from which movement originates. Some
do not move at all, some move, but not indifferently in any direction;
fire, for example, only upward, and earth only to the centre. It is true
that we speak of above and below, right and left, in these bodies
relatively to ourselves. The reference may be to our own right hands,
as with the diviner, or to some similarity to our own members, such
as the parts of a statue possess; or we may take the contrary spatial
order, calling right that which is to our left, and left that which is to
our right. We observe, however, in the things themselves none of
these distinctions; indeed if they are turned round we proceed to
speak of the opposite parts as right and left, a boy land below, front
and back. Hence it is remarkable that the Pythagoreans should have
spoken of these two principles, right and left, only, to the exclusion of
the other four, which have as good a title as they. There is no less
difference between above and below or front and back in animals
generally than between right and left. The difference is sometimes
only one of function, sometimes also one of shape; and while the
distinction of above and below is characteristic of all animate things,
whether plants or animals, that of right and left is not found in
plants. Further, inasmuch as length is prior to breadth, if above is the
principle of length, right of breadth, and if the principle of that which
is prior is itself prior, then above will be prior to right, or let us say,
since prior is ambiguous, prior in order of generation. If, in addition,
above is the region from which movement originates, right the region
in which it starts, front the region to which it is directed, then on this
ground too above has a certain original character as compared with
the other forms of position. On these two grounds, then, they may
fairly be criticized, first, for omitting the more fundamental
principles, and secondly, for thinking that the two they mentioned
were attributable equally to everything.
Since we have already determined that functions of this kind belong
to things which possess, a principle of movement, and that the
heaven is animate and possesses a principle of movement, clearly
the heaven must also exhibit above and below, right and left. We need
not be troubled by the question, arising from the spherical shape of
890
the world, how there can be a distinction of right and left within it, all
parts being alike and all for ever in motion. We must think of the
world as of something in which right differs from left in shape as
well as in other respects, which subsequently is included in a sphere.
The difference of function will persist, but will appear not to by
reason of the regularity of shape. In the same fashion must we
conceive of the beginning of its movement. For even if it never began
to move, yet it must possess a principle from which it would have
begun to move if it had begun, and from which it would begin again if
it came to a stand. Now by its length I mean the interval between its
poles, one pole being above and the other below; for two
hemispheres are specially distinguished from all others by the
immobility of the poles. Further, by transverse in the universe we
commonly mean, not above and below, but a direction crossing the
line of the poles, which, by implication, is length: for transverse
motion is motion crossing motion up and down. Of the poles, that
which we see above us is the lower region, and that which we do not
see is the upper. For right in anything is, as we say, the region in
which locomotion originates, and the rotation of the heaven
originates in the region from which the stars rise. So this will be the
right, and the region where they set the left. If then they begin from
the right and move round to the right, the upper must be the unseen
pole. For if it is the pole we see, the movement will be leftward, which
we deny to be the fact. Clearly then the invisible pole is above. And
those who live in the other hemisphere are above and to the right,
while we are below and to the left. This is just the opposite of the
view of the Pythagoreans, who make us above and on the right side
and those in the other hemisphere below and on the left side; the
fact being the exact opposite. Relatively, however, to the secondary
revolution, I mean that of the planets, we are above and on the right
and they are below and on the left. For the principle of their
movement has the reverse position, since the movement itself is the
contrary of the other: hence it follows that we are at its beginning
and they at its end. Here we may end our discussion of the
distinctions of parts created by the three dimensions and of the
consequent differences of position.
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3
Since circular motion is not the contrary of the reverse circular
motion, we must consider why there is more than one motion,
though we have to pursue our inquiries at a distance a distance
created not so much by our spatial position as by the fact that our
senses enable us to perceive very few of the attributes of the
heavenly bodies. But let not that deter us. The reason must be sought
in the following facts. Everything which has a function exists for its
function. The activity of God is immortality, i.e. eternal life. Therefore
the movement of that which is divine must be eternal. But such is the
heaven, viz. a divine body, and for that reason to it is given the
circular body whose nature it is to move always in a circle. Why, then,
is not the whole body of the heaven of the same character as that
part? Because there must be something at rest at the centre of the
revolving body; and of that body no part can be at rest, either
elsewhere or at the centre. It could do so only if the bodys natural
movement were towards the centre. But the circular movement is
natural, since otherwise it could not be eternal: for nothing unnatural
is eternal. The unnatural is subsequent to the natural, being a
derangement of the natural which occurs in the course of its
generation. Earth then has to exist; for it is earth which is at rest at
the centre. (At present we may take this for granted: it shall be
explained later.) But if earth must exist, so must fire. For, if one of a
pair of contraries naturally exists, the other, if it is really contrary,
exists also naturally. In some form it must be present, since the
matter of contraries is the same. Also, the positive is prior to its
privation (warm, for instance, to cold), and rest and heaviness stand
for the privation of lightness and movement. But further, if fire and
earth exist, the intermediate bodies must exist also: each element
stands in a contrary relation to every other. (This, again, we will here
take for granted and try later to explain.) these four elements
generation clearly is involved, since none of them can be eternal: for
contraries interact with one another and destroy one another.
Further, it is inconceivable that a movable body should be eternal, if
its movement cannot be regarded as naturally eternal: and these
892
4
The shape of the heaven is of necessity spherical; for that is the
shape most appropriate to its substance and also by nature primary.
First, let us consider generally which shape is primary among planes
and solids alike. Every plane figure must be either rectilinear or
curvilinear. Now the rectilinear is bounded by more than one line, the
curvilinear by one only. But since in any kind the one is naturally
prior to the many and the simple to the complex, the circle will be
the first of plane figures. Again, if by complete, as previously defined,
we mean a thing outside which no part of itself can be found, and if
addition is always possible to the straight line but never to the
circular, clearly the line which embraces the circle is complete. If
then the complete is prior to the incomplete, it follows on this ground
also that the circle is primary among figures. And the sphere holds
the same position among solids. For it alone is embraced by a single
surface, while rectilinear solids have several. The sphere is among
solids what the circle is among plane figures. Further, those who
divide bodies into planes and generate them out of planes seem to
bear witness to the truth of this. Alone among solids they leave the
sphere undivided, as not possessing more than one surface: for the
division into surfaces is not just dividing a whole by cutting it into its
893
upon themselves the line which bounds the circle is the shortest; and
that movement is the swiftest which follows the shortest line.
Therefore, if the heaven moves in a circle and moves more swiftly
than anything else, it must necessarily be spherical.
Corroborative evidence may be drawn from the bodies whose
position is about the centre. If earth is enclosed by water, water by air,
air by fire, and these similarly by the upper bodies which while not
continuous are yet contiguous with them and if the surface of
water is spherical, and that which is continuous with or embraces
the spherical must itself be spherical, then on these grounds also it is
clear that the heavens are spherical. But the surface of water is seen
to be spherical if we take as our starting-point the fact that water
naturally tends to collect in a hollow place hollow meaning nearer
the centre. Draw from the centre the lines AB, AC, and let their
extremities be joined by the straight line BC. The line AD, drawn to
the base of the triangle, will be shorter than either of the radii.
Therefore the place in which it terminates will be a hollow place. The
water then will collect there until equality is established, that is until
the line AE is equal to the two radii. Thus water forces its way to the
ends of the radii, and there only will it rest: but the line which
connects the extremities of the radii is circular: therefore the surface
of the water BEC is spherical.
It is plain from the foregoing that the universe is spherical. It is plain,
further, that it is turned (so to speak) with a finish which no
manufactured thing nor anything else within the range of our
observation can even approach. For the matter of which these are
composed does not admit of anything like the same regularity and
finish as the substance of the enveloping body; since with each step
away from earth the matter manifestly becomes finer in the same
proportion as water is finer than earth.
895
5
Now there are two ways of moving along a circle, from A to B or from
A to C, and we have already explained that these movements are not
contrary to one another. But nothing which concerns the eternal can
be a matter of chance or spontaneity, and the heaven and its circular
motion are eternal. We must therefore ask why this motion takes one
direction and not the other. Either this is itself an ultimate fact or
there is an ultimate fact behind it. It may seem evidence of excessive
folly or excessive zeal to try to provide an explanation of some
things, or of everything, admitting no exception. The criticism,
however, is not always just: one should first consider what reason
there is for speaking, and also what kind of certainty is looked for,
whether human merely or of a more cogent kind. When any one shall
succeed in finding proofs of greater precision, gratitude will be due to
him for the discovery, but at present we must be content with a
probable solution. If nature always follows the best course possible,
and, just as upward movement is the superior form of rectilinear
movement, since the upper region is more divine than the lower, so
forward movement is superior to backward, then front and back
exhibits, like right and left, as we said before and as the difficulty just
stated itself suggests, the distinction of prior and posterior, which
provides a reason and so solves our difficulty. Supposing that nature
is ordered in the best way possible, this may stand as the reason of
the fact mentioned. For it is best to move with a movement simple
and unceasing, and, further, in the superior of two possible
directions.
6
We have next to show that the movement of the heaven is regular
and not irregular. This applies only to the first heaven and the first
movement; for the lower spheres exhibit a composition of several
movements into one. If the movement is uneven, clearly there will be
acceleration, maximum speed, and retardation, since these appear in
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all irregular motions. The maximum may occur either at the startingpoint or at the goal or between the two; and we expect natural
motion to reach its maximum at the goal, unnatural motion at the
starting-point, and missiles midway between the two. But circular
movement, having no beginning or limit or middle in the direct sense
of the words, has neither whence nor whither nor middle: for in time
it is eternal, and in length it returns upon itself without a break. If
then its movement has no maximum, it can have no irregularity,
since irregularity is produced by retardation and acceleration.
Further, since everything that is moved is moved by something, the
cause of the irregularity of movement must lie either in the mover or
in the moved or both. For if the mover moved not always with the
same force, or if the moved were altered and did not remain the
same, or if both were to change, the result might well be an irregular
movement in the moved. But none of these possibilities can be
conceived as actual in the case of the heavens. As to that which is
moved, we have shown that it is primary and simple and
ungenerated and indestructible and generally unchanging; and the
mover has an even better right to these attributes. It is the primary
that moves the primary, the simple the simple, the indestructible and
ungenerated that which is indestructible and ungenerated. Since
then that which is moved, being a body, is nevertheless unchanging,
how should the mover, which is incorporeal, be changed?
It follows then, further, that the motion cannot be irregular. For if
irregularity occurs, there must be change either in the movement as
a whole, from fast to slow and slow to fast, or in its parts. That there
is no irregularity in the parts is obvious, since, if there were, some
divergence of the stars would have taken place before now in the
infinity of time, as one moved slower and another faster: but no
alteration of their intervals is ever observed. Nor again is a change in
the movement as a whole admissible. Retardation is always due to
incapacity, and incapacity is unnatural. The incapacities of animals,
age, decay, and the like, are all unnatural, due, it seems, to the fact
that the whole animal complex is made up of materials which differ
in respect of their proper places, and no single part occupies its own
place. If therefore that which is primary contains nothing unnatural,
being simple and unmixed and in its proper place and having no
897
7
We have next to speak of the stars, as they are called, of their
composition, shape, and movements. It would be most natural and
consequent upon what has been said that each of the stars should be
898
8
Since changes evidently occur not only in the position of the stars
but also in that of the whole heaven, there are three possibilities.
Either (1) both are at rest, or (2) both are in motion, or (3) the one is at
rest and the other in motion.
(1) That both should be at rest is impossible; for, if the earth is at rest,
the hypothesis does not account for the observations; and we take it
as granted that the earth is at rest. It remains either that both are
moved, or that the one is moved and the other at rest.
899
(2) On the view, first, that both are in motion, we have the absurdity
that the stars and the circles move with the same speed, i.e. that the
ace of every star is that of the circle in it moves. For star and circle
are seen to come back to the same place at the same moment; from
which it follows that the star has traversed the circle and the circle
has completed its own movement, i.e. traversed its own
circumference, at one and the same moment. But it is difficult to
conceive that the pace of each star should be exactly proportioned to
the size of its circle. That the pace of each circle should be
proportionate to its size is not absurd but inevitable: but that the
same should be true of the movement of the stars contained in the
circles is quite incredible. For if, on the one and, we suppose that the
star which moves on the greater circle is necessarily swifter, clearly
we also admit that if stars shifted their position so as to exchange
circles, the slower would become swifter and the swifter slower. But
this would show that their movement was not their own, but due to
the circles. If, on the other hand, the arrangement was a chance
combination, the coincidence in every case of a greater circle with a
swifter movement of the star contained in it is too much to believe. In
one or two cases it might not inconceivably fall out so, but to imagine
it in every case alike is a mere fiction. Besides, chance has no place in
that which is natural, and what happens everywhere and in every
case is no matter of chance.
(3) The same absurdity is equally plain if it is supposed that the
circles stand still and that it is the stars themselves which move. For
it will follow that the outer stars are the swifter, and that the pace of
the stars corresponds to the size of their circles.
Since, then, we cannot reasonably suppose either that both are in
motion or that the star alone moves, the remaining alternative is that
the circles should move, while the stars are at rest and move with the
circles to which they are attached. Only on this supposition are we
involved in no absurd consequence. For, in the first place, the quicker
movement of the larger circle is natural when all the circles are
attached to the same centre. Whenever bodies are moving with their
proper motion, the larger moves quicker. It is the same here with the
revolving bodies: for the are intercepted by two radii will be larger in
900
the larger circle, and hence it is not surprising that the revolution of
the larger circle should take the same time as that of the smaller.
And secondly, the fact that the heavens do not break in pieces
follows not only from this but also from the proof already given of
the continuity of the whole.
Again, since the stars are spherical, as our opponents assert and we
may consistently admit, inasmuch as we construct them out of the
spherical body, and since the spherical body has two movements
proper to itself, namely rolling and spinning, it follows that if the
stars have a movement of their own, it will be one of these. But
neither is observed. (1) Suppose them to spin. They would then stay
where they were, and not change their place, as, by observation and
general consent, they do. Further, one would expect them all to
exhibit the same movement: but the only star which appears to
possess this movement is the sun, at sunrise or sunset, and this
appearance is due not to the sun itself but to the distance from
which we observe it. The visual ray being excessively prolonged
becomes weak and wavering. The same reason probably accounts for
the apparent twinkling of the fixed stars and the absence of
twinkling in the planets. The planets are near, so that the visual ray
reaches them in its full vigour, but when it comes to the fixed stars it
is quivering because of the distance and its excessive extension; and
its tremor produces an appearance of movement in the star: for it
makes no difference whether movement is set up in the ray or in the
object of vision.
(2) On the other hand, it is also clear that the stars do not roll. For
rolling involves rotation: but the face, as it is called, of the moon is
always seen. Therefore, since any movement of their own which the
stars possessed would presumably be one proper to themselves, and
no such movement is observed in them, clearly they have no
movement of their own.
There is, further, the absurdity that nature has bestowed upon them
no organ appropriate to such movement. For nature leaves nothing to
chance, and would not, while caring for animals, overlook things so
precious. Indeed, nature seems deliberately to have stripped them of
901
9
From all this it is clear that the theory that the movement of the stars
produces a harmony, i.e. that the sounds they make are concordant,
in spite of the grace and originality with which it has been stated, is
nevertheless untrue. Some thinkers suppose that the motion of
bodies of that size must produce a noise, since on our earth the
motion of bodies far inferior in size and in speed of movement has
that effect. Also, when the sun and the moon, they say, and all the
stars, so great in number and in size, are moving with so rapid a
motion, how should they not produce a sound immensely great?
Starting from this argument and from the observation that their
speeds, as measured by their distances, are in the same ratios as
musical concordances, they assert that the sound given forth by the
circular movement of the stars is a harmony. Since, however, it
appears unaccountable that we should not hear this music, they
explain this by saying that the sound is in our ears from the very
moment of birth and is thus indistinguishable from its contrary
silence, since sound and silence are discriminated by mutual
contrast. What happens to men, then, is just what happens to
coppersmiths, who are so accustomed to the noise of the smithy that
902
903
10
With their order I mean the position of each, as involving the
priority of some and the posteriority of others, and their respective
distances from the extremity with this astronomy may be left to
deal, since the astronomical discussion is adequate. This discussion
shows that the movements of the several stars depend, as regards
the varieties of speed which they exhibit, on the distance of each
from the extremity. It is established that the outermost revolution of
the heavens is a simple movement and the swiftest of all, and that
the movement of all other bodies is composite and relatively slow, for
the reason that each is moving on its own circle with the reverse
motion to that of the heavens. This at once leads us to expect that
the body which is nearest to that first simple revolution should take
the longest time to complete its circle, and that which is farthest
from it the shortest, the others taking a longer time the nearer they
are and a shorter time the farther away they are. For it is the nearest
body which is most strongly influenced, and the most remote, by
reason of its distance, which is least affected, the influence on the
intermediate bodies varying, as the mathematicians show, with their
distance.
11
With regard to the shape of each star, the most reasonable view is
that they are spherical. It has been shown that it is not in their
nature to move themselves, and, since nature is no wanton or
random creator, clearly she will have given things which possess no
movement a shape particularly unadapted to movement. Such a
shape is the sphere, since it possesses no instrument of movement.
Clearly then their mass will have the form of a sphere. Again, what
holds of one holds of all, and the evidence of our eyes shows us that
the moon is spherical. For how else should the moon as it waxes and
904
12
There are two difficulties, which may very reasonably here be raised,
of which we must now attempt to state the probable solution: for we
regard the zeal of one whose thirst after philosophy leads him to
accept even slight indications where it is very difficult to see ones
way, as a proof rather of modesty than of overconfidence.
Of many such problems one of the strangest is the problem why we
find the greatest number of movements in the intermediate bodies,
and not, rather, in each successive body a variety of movement
proportionate to its distance from the primary motion. For we should
expect, since the primary body shows one motion only, that the body
which is nearest to it should move with the fewest movements, say
two, and the one next after that with three, or some similar
arrangement. But the opposite is the case. The movements of the sun
and moon are fewer than those of some of the planets. Yet these
planets are farther from the centre and thus nearer to the primary
body than they, as observation has itself revealed. For we have seen
the moon, half-full, pass beneath the planet Mars, which vanished on
its shadow side and came forth by the bright and shining part.
Similar accounts of other stars are given by the Egyptians and
Babylonians, whose observations have been kept for very many years
past, and from whom much of our evidence about particular stars is
derived. A second difficulty which may with equal justice be raised is
this. Why is it that the primary motion includes such a multitude of
stars that their whole array seems to defy counting, while of the
other stars each one is separated off, and in no case do we find two
or more attached to the same motion?
905
906
907
13
It remains to speak of the earth, of its position, of the question
whether it is at rest or in motion, and of its shape.
I. As to its position there is some difference of opinion. Most people
all, in fact, who regard the whole heaven as finite say it lies at the
centre. But the Italian philosophers known as Pythagoreans take the
contrary view. At the centre, they say, is fire, and the earth is one of
the stars, creating night and day by its circular motion about the
centre. They further construct another earth in opposition to ours to
which they give the name counterearth. In all this they are not
seeking for theories and causes to account for observed facts, but
rather forcing their observations and trying to accommodate them to
certain theories and opinions of their own. But there are many others
who would agree that it is wrong to give the earth the central
position, looking for confirmation rather to theory than to the facts of
observation. Their view is that the most precious place befits the
most precious thing: but fire, they say, is more precious than earth,
and the limit than the intermediate, and the circumference and the
centre are limits. Reasoning on this basis they take the view that it is
not earth that lies at the centre of the sphere, but rather fire. The
Pythagoreans have a further reason. They hold that the most
important part of the world, which is the centre, should be most
strictly guarded, and name it, or rather the fire which occupies that
place, the Guardhouse of Zeus, as if the word centre were quite
unequivocal, and the centre of the mathematical figure were always
the same with that of the thing or the natural centre. But it is better
to conceive of the case of the whole heaven as analogous to that of
animals, in which the centre of the animal and that of the body are
different. For this reason they have no need to be so disturbed about
the world, or to call in a guard for its centre: rather let them look for
the centre in the other sense and tell us what it is like and where
nature has set it. That centre will be something primary and precious;
but to the mere position we should give the last place rather than the
first. For the middle is what is defined, and what defines it is the
908
limit, and that which contains or limits is more precious than that
which is limited, see ing that the latter is the matter and the former
the essence of the system.
II. As to the position of the earth, then, this is the view which some
advance, and the views advanced concerning its rest or motion are
similar. For here too there is no general agreement. All who deny that
the earth lies at the centre think that it revolves about the centre, and
not the earth only but, as we said before, the counter-earth as well.
Some of them even consider it possible that there are several bodies
so moving, which are invisible to us owing to the interposition of the
earth. This, they say, accounts for the fact that eclipses of the moon
are more frequent than eclipses of the sun: for in addition to the
earth each of these moving bodies can obstruct it. Indeed, as in any
case the surface of the earth is not actually a centre but distant from
it a full hemisphere, there is no more difficulty, they think, in
accounting for the observed facts on their view that we do not dwell
at the centre, than on the common view that the earth is in the
middle. Even as it is, there is nothing in the observations to suggest
that we are removed from the centre by half the diameter of the
earth. Others, again, say that the earth, which lies at the centre, is
rolled, and thus in motion, about the axis of the whole heaven, So it
stands written in the Timaeus.
III. There are similar disputes about the shape of the earth. Some
think it is spherical, others that it is flat and drum-shaped. For
evidence they bring the fact that, as the sun rises and sets, the part
concealed by the earth shows a straight and not a curved edge,
whereas if the earth were spherical the line of section would have to
be circular. In this they leave out of account the great distance of the
sun from the earth and the great size of the circumference, which,
seen from a distance on these apparently small circles appears
straight. Such an appearance ought not to make them doubt the
circular shape of the earth. But they have another argument. They say
that because it is at rest, the earth must necessarily have this shape.
For there are many different ways in which the movement or rest of
the earth has been conceived.
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911
rest. If, then, it is by constraint that the earth now keeps its place, the
so-called whirling movement by which its parts came together at
the centre was also constrained. (The form of causation supposed
they all borrow from observations of liquids and of air, in which the
larger and heavier bodies always move to the centre of the whirl. This
is thought by all those who try to generate the heavens to explain
why the earth came together at the centre. They then seek a reason
for its staying there; and some say, in the manner explained, that the
reason is its size and flatness, others, with Empedocles, that the
motion of the heavens, moving about it at a higher speed, prevents
movement of the earth, as the water in a cup, when the cup is given a
circular motion, though it is often underneath the bronze, is for this
same reason prevented from moving with the downward movement
which is natural to it.) But suppose both the whirl and its flatness
(the air beneath being withdrawn) cease to prevent the earths
motion, where will the earth move to then? Its movement to the
centre was constrained, and its rest at the centre is due to constraint;
but there must be some motion which is natural to it. Will this be
upward motion or downward or what? It must have some motion;
and if upward and downward motion are alike to it, and the air above
the earth does not prevent upward movement, then no more could
air below it prevent downward movement. For the same cause must
necessarily have the same effect on the same thing.
Further, against Empedocles there is another point which might be
made. When the elements were separated off by Hate, what caused
the earth to keep its place? Surely the whirl cannot have been then
also the cause. It is absurd too not to perceive that, while the whirling
movement may have been responsible for the original coming
together of the art of earth at the centre, the question remains, why
now do all heavy bodies move to the earth. For the whirl surely does
not come near us. Why, again, does fire move upward? Not, surely,
because of the whirl. But if fire is naturally such as to move in a
certain direction, clearly the same may be supposed to hold of earth.
Again, it cannot be the whirl which determines the heavy and the
light. Rather that movement caused the pre-existent heavy and light
things to go to the middle and stay on the surface respectively. Thus,
before ever the whirl began, heavy and light existed; and what can
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14
Let us first decide the question whether the earth moves or is at rest.
For, as we said, there are some who make it one of the stars, and
others who, setting it at the centre, suppose it to be rolled and in
motion about the pole as axis. That both views are untenable will be
clear if we take as our starting-point the fact that the earths motion,
whether the earth be at the centre or away from it, must needs be a
constrained motion. It cannot be the movement of the earth itself. If
it were, any portion of it would have this movement; but in fact every
part moves in a straight line to the centre. Being, then, constrained
and unnatural, the movement could not be eternal. But the order of
the universe is eternal. Again, everything that moves with the
circular movement, except the first sphere, is observed to be passed,
and to move with more than one motion. The earth, then, also,
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915
then, it would require a force greater than itself to move it, it must
needs stay at the centre. This view is further supported by the
contributions of mathematicians to astronomy, since the
observations made as the shapes change by which the order of the
stars is determined, are fully accounted for on the hypothesis that
the earth lies at the centre. Of the position of the earth and of the
manner of its rest or movement, our discussion may here end.
Its shape must necessarily be spherical. For every portion of earth has
weight until it reaches the centre, and the jostling of parts greater
and smaller would bring about not a waved surface, but rather
compression and convergence of part and part until the centre is
reached. The process should be conceived by supposing the earth to
come into being in the way that some of the natural philosophers
describe. Only they attribute the downward movement to constraint,
and it is better to keep to the truth and say that the reason of this
motion is that a thing which possesses weight is naturally endowed
with a centripetal movement. When the mixture, then, was merely
potential, the things that were separated off moved similarly from
every side towards the centre. Whether the parts which came
together at the centre were distributed at the extremities evenly, or in
some other way, makes no difference. If, on the one hand, there were
a similar movement from each quarter of the extremity to the single
centre, it is obvious that the resulting mass would be similar on every
side. For if an equal amount is added on every side the extremity of
the mass will be everywhere equidistant from its centre, i.e. the
figure will be spherical. But neither will it in any way affect the
argument if there is not a similar accession of concurrent fragments
from every side. For the greater quantity, finding a lesser in front of it,
must necessarily drive it on, both having an impulse whose goal is
the centre, and the greater weight driving the lesser forward till this
goal is reached. In this we have also the solution of a possible
difficulty. The earth, it might be argued, is at the centre and spherical
in shape: if, then, a weight many times that of the earth were added
to one hemisphere, the centre of the earth and of the whole will no
longer be coincident. So that either the earth will not stay still at the
centre, or if it does, it will be at rest without having its centre at the
place to which it is still its nature to move. Such is the difficulty. A
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Book III
1
We have already discussed the first heaven and its parts, the moving
stars within it, the matter of which these are composed and their
bodily constitution, and we have also shown that they are
ungenerated and indestructible. Now things that we call natural are
either substances or functions and attributes of substances. As
substances I class the simple bodies fire, earth, and the other terms
of the series and all things composed of them; for example, the
heaven as a whole and its parts, animals, again, and plants and their
parts. By attributes and functions I mean the movements of these
918
921
clearly the line and the point will have weight. For the three cases
are, as we said before, analogous. But if the reason of differences of
weight is not this, but rather the heaviness of earth and the lightness
of fire, then some of the planes will be light and others heavy (which
involves a similar distinction in the lines and the points); the
earthplane, I mean, will be heavier than the fire-plane. In general, the
result is either that there is no magnitude at all, or that all magnitude
could be done away with. For a point is to a line as a line is to a plane
and as a plane is to a body. Now the various forms in passing into one
another will each be resolved into its ultimate constituents. It might
happen therefore that nothing existed except points, and that there
was no body at all. A further consideration is that if time is similarly
constituted, there would be, or might be, a time at which it was done
away with. For the indivisible now is like a point in a line. The same
consequences follow from composing the heaven of numbers, as
some of the Pythagoreans do who make all nature out of numbers.
For natural bodies are manifestly endowed with weight and
lightness, but an assemblage of units can neither be composed to
form a body nor possess weight.
2
The necessity that each of the simple bodies should have a natural
movement may be shown as follows. They manifestly move, and if
they have no proper movement they must move by constraint: and
the constrained is the same as the unnatural. Now an unnatural
movement presupposes a natural movement which it contravenes,
and which, however many the unnatural movements, is always one.
For naturally a thing moves in one way, while its unnatural
movements are manifold. The same may be shown, from the fact of
rest. Rest, also, must either be constrained or natural, constrained in
a place to which movement was constrained, natural in a place
movement to which was natural. Now manifestly there is a body
which is at rest at the centre. If then this rest is natural to it, clearly
motion to this place is natural to it. If, on the other hand, its rest is
922
923
in the same time move the distance CD. A weightless body, therefore,
and one which has weight will move the same distance, which is
impossible. And the same argument would fit the case of lightness.
Again, a body which is in motion but has neither weight nor
lightness, must be moved by constraint, and must continue its
constrained movement infinitely. For there will be a force which
moves it, and the smaller and lighter a body is the further will a given
force move it. Now let A, the weightless body, be moved the distance
CE, and B, which has weight, be moved in the same time the distance
CD. Dividing the heavy body in the proportion CE:CD, we subtract
from the heavy body a part which will in the same time move the
distance CE, since the whole moved CD: for the relative speeds of the
two bodies will be in inverse ratio to their respective sizes. Thus the
weightless body will move the same distance as the heavy in the
same time. But this is impossible. Hence, since the motion of the
weightless body will cover a greater distance than any that is
suggested, it will continue infinitely. It is therefore obvious that every
body must have a definite weight or lightness. But since nature
means a source of movement within the thing itself, while a force is
a source of movement in something other than it or in itself qua
other, and since movement is always due either to nature or to
constraint, movement which is natural, as downward movement is to
a stone, will be merely accelerated by an external force, while an
unnatural movement will be due to the force alone. In either case the
air is as it were instrumental to the force. For air is both light and
heavy, and thus qua light produces upward motion, being propelled
and set in motion by the force, and qua heavy produces a downward
motion. In either case the force transmits the movement to the body
by first, as it were, impregnating the air. That is why a body moved by
constraint continues to move when that which gave the impulse
ceases to accompany it. Otherwise, i.e. if the air were not endowed
with this function, constrained movement would be impossible. And
the natural movement of a body may be helped on in the same way.
This discussion suffices to show (1) that all bodies are either light or
heavy, and (2) how unnatural movement takes place.
From what has been said earlier it is plain that there cannot be
generation either of everything or in an absolute sense of anything. It
925
is impossible that everything should be generated, unless an extracorporeal void is possible. For, assuming generation, the place which
is to be occupied by that which is coming to be, must have been
previously occupied by void in which no body was. Now it is quite
possible for one body to be generated out of another, air for instance
out of fire, but in the absence of any pre-existing mass generation is
impossible. That which is potentially a certain kind of body may, it is
true, become such in actuality, But if the potential body was not
already in actuality some other kind of body, the existence of an
extra-corporeal void must be admitted.
3
It remains to say what bodies are subject to generation, and why.
Since in every case knowledge depends on what is primary, and the
elements are the primary constituents of bodies, we must ask which
of such bodies are elements, and why; and after that what is their
number and character. The answer will be plain if we first explain
what kind of substance an element is. An element, we take it, is a
body into which other bodies may be analysed, present in them
potentially or in actuality (which of these, is still disputable), and not
itself divisible into bodies different in form. That, or something like it,
is what all men in every case mean by element. Now if what we have
described is an element, clearly there must be such bodies. For flesh
and wood and all other similar bodies contain potentially fire and
earth, since one sees these elements exuded from them; and, on the
other hand, neither in potentiality nor in actuality does fire contain
flesh or wood, or it would exude them. Similarly, even if there were
only one elementary body, it would not contain them. For though it
will be either flesh or bone or something else, that does not at once
show that it contained these in potentiality: the further question
remains, in what manner it becomes them. Now Anaxagoras opposes
Empedocles view of the elements. Empedocles says that fire and
earth and the related bodies are elementary bodies of which all
things are composed; but this Anaxagoras denies. His elements are
926
the homoeomerous things, viz. flesh, bone, and the like. Earth and
fire are mixtures, composed of them and all the other seeds, each
consisting of a collection of all the homoeomerous bodies, separately
invisible; and that explains why from these two bodies all others are
generated. (To him fire and aither are the same thing.) But since
every natural body has it proper movement, and movements are
either simple or mixed, mixed in mixed bodies and simple in simple,
there must obviously be simple bodies; for there are simple
movements. It is plain, then, that there are elements, and why.
4
The next question to consider is whether the elements are finite or
infinite in number, and, if finite, what their number is. Let us first
show reason or denying that their number is infinite, as some
suppose. We begin with the view of Anaxagoras that all the
homoeomerous bodies are elements. Any one who adopts this view
misapprehends the meaning of element. Observation shows that
even mixed bodies are often divisible into homoeomerous parts;
examples are flesh, bone, wood, and stone. Since then the composite
cannot be an element, not every homoeomerous body can be an
element; only, as we said before, that which is not divisible into
bodies different in form. But even taking element as they do, they
need not assert an infinity of elements, since the hypothesis of a
finite number will give identical results. Indeed even two or three
such bodies serve the purpose as well, as Empedocles attempt
shows. Again, even on their view it turns out that all things are not
composed of homocomerous bodies. They do not pretend that a face
is composed of faces, or that any other natural conformation is
composed of parts like itself. Obviously then it would be better to
assume a finite number of principles. They should, in fact, be as few
as possible, consistently with proving what has to be proved. This is
the common demand of mathematicians, who always assume as
principles things finite either in kind or in number. Again, if body is
distinguished from body by the appropriate qualitative difference,
927
5
Since the number of the elements must be limited, it remains to
inquire whether there is more than one element. Some assume one
only, which is according to some water, to others air, to others fire, to
others again something finer than water and denser than air, an
infinite body so they say bracing all the heavens.
Now those who decide for a single element, which is either water or
air or a body finer than water and denser than air, and proceed to
generate other things out of it by use of the attributes density and
rarity, all alike fail to observe the fact that they are depriving the
element of its priority. Generation out of the elements is, as they say,
synthesis, and generation into the elements is analysis, so that the
body with the finer parts must have priority in the order of nature.
But they say that fire is of all bodies the finest. Hence fire will be first
in the natural order. And whether the finest body is fire or not makes
no difference; anyhow it must be one of the other bodies that is
primary and not that which is intermediate. Again, density and rarity,
as instruments of generation, are equivalent to fineness and
coarseness, since the fine is rare, and coarse in their use means
dense. But fineness and coarseness, again, are equivalent to
greatness and smallness, since a thing with small parts is fine and a
thing with large parts coarse. For that which spreads itself out widely
is fine, and a thing composed of small parts is so spread out. In the
end, then, they distinguish the various other substances from the
element by the greatness and smallness of their parts. This method
of distinction makes all judgement relative. There will be no absolute
929
distinction between fire, water, and air, but one and the same body
will be relatively to this fire, relatively to something else air. The same
difficulty is involved equally in the view elements and distinguishes
them by their greatness and smallness. The principle of distinction
between bodies being quantity, the various sizes will be in a definite
ratio, and whatever bodies are in this ratio to one another must be
air, fire, earth, and water respectively. For the ratios of smaller bodies
may be repeated among greater bodies.
Those who start from fire as the single element, while avoiding this
difficulty, involve themselves in many others. Some of them give fire
a particular shape, like those who make it a pyramid, and this on one
of two grounds. The reason given may be more crudely that the
pyramid is the most piercing of figures as fire is of bodies, or more
ingeniously the position may be supported by the following
argument. As all bodies are composed of that which has the finest
parts, so all solid figures are composed of pryamids: but the finest
body is fire, while among figures the pyramid is primary and has the
smallest parts; and the primary body must have the primary figure:
therefore fire will be a pyramid. Others, again, express no opinion on
the subject of its figure, but simply regard it as the of the finest parts,
which in combination will form other bodies, as the fusing of golddust produces solid gold. Both of these views involve the same
difficulties. For (1) if, on the one hand, they make the primary body
an atom, the view will be open to the objections already advanced
against the atomic theory. And further the theory is inconsistent with
a regard for the facts of nature. For if all bodies are quantitatively
commensurable, and the relative size of the various homoeomerous
masses and of their several elements are in the same ratio, so that
the total mass of water, for instance, is related to the total mass of air
as the elements of each are to one another, and so on, and if there is
more air than water and, generally, more of the finer body than of the
coarser, obviously the element of water will be smaller than that of
air. But the lesser quantity is contained in the greater. Therefore the
air element is divisible. And the same could be shown of fire and of
all bodies whose parts are relatively fine. (2) If, on the other hand, the
primary body is divisible, then (a) those who give fire a special shape
will have to say that a part of fire is not fire, because a pyramid is not
930
6
First we must inquire whether the elements are eternal or subject to
generation and destruction; for when this question has been
answered their number and character will be manifest. In the first
place, they cannot be eternal. It is a matter of observation that fire,
water, and every simple body undergo a process of analysis, which
must either continue infinitely or stop somewhere. (1) Suppose it
infinite. Then the time occupied by the process will be infinite, and
also that occupied by the reverse process of synthesis. For the
processes of analysis and synthesis succeed one another in the
various parts. It will follow that there are two infinite times which are
931
since that which comes into being and that out of which it comes
must needs be together. The elements therefore cannot be generated
from something incorporeal nor from a body which is not an
element, and the only remaining alternative is that they are
generated from one another.
7
We must, therefore, turn to the question, what is the manner of their
generation from one another? Is it as Empedocles and Democritus
say, or as those who resolve bodies into planes say, or is there yet
another possibility? (1) What the followers of Empedocles do, though
without observing it themselves, is to reduce the generation of
elements out of one another to an illusion. They make it a process of
excretion from a body of what was in it all the time as though
generation required a vessel rather than a material so that it
involves no change of anything. And even if this were accepted, there
are other implications equally unsatisfactory. We do not expect a
mass of matter to be made heavier by compression. But they will be
bound to maintain this, if they say that water is a body present in air
and excreted from air, since air becomes heavier when it turns into
water. Again, when the mixed body is divided, they can show no
reason why one of the constituents must by itself take up more room
than the body did: but when water turns into air, the room occupied
is increased. The fact is that the finer body takes up more room, as is
obvious in any case of transformation. As the liquid is converted into
vapour or air the vessel which contains it is often burst because it
does not contain room enough. Now, if there is no void at all, and if,
as those who take this view say, there is no expansion of bodies, the
impossibility of this is manifest: and if there is void and expansion,
there is no accounting for the fact that the body which results from
division cfpies of necessity a greater space. It is inevitable, too, that
generation of one out of another should come to a stop, since a finite
quantum cannot contain an infinity of finite quanta. When earth
produces water something is taken away from the earth, for the
933
process is one of excretion. The same thing happens again when the
residue produces water. But this can only go on for ever, if the finite
body contains an infinity, which is impossible. Therefore the
generation of elements out of one another will not always continue.
(2) We have now explained that the mutual transformations of the
elements cannot take place by means of excretion. The remaining
alternative is that they should be generated by changing into one
another. And this in one of two ways, either by change of shape, as
the same wax takes the shape both of a sphere and of a cube, or, as
some assert, by resolution into planes. (a) Generation by change of
shape would necessarily involve the assertion of atomic bodies. For if
the particles were divisible there would be a part of fire which was
not fire and a part of earth which was not earth, for the reason that
not every part of a pyramid is a pyramid nor of a cube a cube. But if
(b) the process is resolution into planes, the first difficulty is that the
elements cannot all be generated out of one another. This they are
obliged to assert, and do assert. It is absurd, because it is
unreasonable that one element alone should have no part in the
transformations, and also contrary to the observed data of sense,
according to which all alike change into one another. In fact their
explanation of the observations is not consistent with the
observations. And the reason is that their ultimate principles are
wrongly assumed: they had certain predetermined views, and were
resolved to bring everything into line with them. It seems that
perceptible things require perceptible principles, eternal things
eternal principles, corruptible things corruptible principles; and, in
general, every subject matter principles homogeneous with itself. But
they, owing to their love for their principles, fall into the attitude of
men who undertake the defence of a position in argument. In the
confidence that the principles are true they are ready to accept any
consequence of their application. As though some principles did not
require to be judged from their results, and particularly from their
final issue! And that issue, which in the case of productive knowledge
is the product, in the knowledge of nature is the unimpeachable
evidence of the senses as to each fact.
934
The result of their view is that earth has the best right to the name
element, and is alone indestructible; for that which is indissoluble is
indestructible and elementary, and earth alone cannot be dissolved
into any body but itself. Again, in the case of those elements which
do suffer dissolution, the suspension of the triangles is
unsatisfactory. But this takes place whenever one is dissolved into
another, because of the numerical inequality of the triangles which
compose them. Further, those who hold these views must needs
suppose that generation does not start from a body. For what is
generated out of planes cannot be said to have been generated from a
body. And they must also assert that not all bodies are divisible,
coming thus into conflict with our most accurate sciences, namely
the mathematical, which assume that even the intelligible is
divisible, while they, in their anxiety to save their hypothesis, cannot
even admit this of every perceptible thing. For any one who gives
each element a shape of its own, and makes this the ground of
distinction between the substances, has to attribute to them
indivisibility; since division of a pyramid or a sphere must leave
somewhere at least a residue which is not sphere or a pyramid.
Either, then, a part of fire is not fire, so that there is a body prior to
the element for every body is either an element or composed of
elements or not every body is divisible.
8
In general, the attempt to give a shape to each of the simple bodies is
unsound, for the reason, first, that they will not succeed in filling the
whole. It is agreed that there are only three plane figures which can
fill a space, the triangle, the square, and the hexagon, and only two
solids, the pyramid and the cube. But the theory needs more than
these because the elements which it recognizes are more in number.
Secondly, it is manifest that the simple bodies are often given a
shape by the place in which they are included, particularly water and
air. In such a case the shape of the element cannot persist; for, if it
did, the contained mass would not be in continuous contact with the
935
937
From what has been said it is clear that the difference of the
elements does not depend upon their shape. Now their most
important differences are those of property, function, and power; for
every natural body has, we maintain, its own functions, properties,
and powers. Our first business, then, will be to speak of these, and
that inquiry will enable us to explain the differences of each from
each.
Book IV
1
We have now to consider the terms heavy and light. We must ask
what the bodies so called are, how they are constituted, and what is
the reason of their possessing these powers. The consideration of
these questions is a proper part of the theory of movement, since we
call things heavy and light because they have the power of being
moved naturally in a certain way. The activities corresponding to
these powers have not been given any name, unless it is thought that
impetus is such a name. But because the inquiry into nature is
concerned with movement, and these things have in themselves
some spark (as it were) of movement, all inquirers avail themselves
of these powers, though in all but a few cases without exact
discrimination. We must then first look at whatever others have said,
and formulate the questions which require settlement in the
interests of this inquiry, before we go on to state our own view of the
matter.
Language recognizes (a) an absolute, (b) a relative heavy and light. Of
two heavy things, such as wood and bronze, we say that the one is
938
relatively light, the other relatively heavy. Our predecessors have not
dealt at all with the absolute use, of the terms, but only with the
relative. I mean, they do not explain what the heavy is or what the
light is, but only the relative heaviness and lightness of things
possessing weight. This can be made clearer as follows. There are
things whose constant nature it is to move away from the centre,
while others move constantly towards the centre; and of these
movements that which is away from the centre I call upward
movement and that which is towards it I call downward movement.
(The view, urged by some, that there is no up and no down in the
heaven, is absurd. There can be, they say, no up and no down, since
the universe is similar every way, and from any point on the earths
surface a man by advancing far enough will come to stand foot to
foot with himself. But the extremity of the whole, which we call
above, is in position above and in nature primary. And since the
universe has an extremity and a centre, it must clearly have an up
and down. Common usage is thus correct, though inadequate. And
the reason of its inadequacy is that men think that the universe is
not similar every way. They recognize only the hemisphere which is
over us. But if they went on to think of the world as formed on this
pattern all round, with a centre identically related to each point on
the extremity, they would have to admit that the extremity was above
and the centre below.) By absolutely light, then, we mean that which
moves upward or to the extremity, and by absolutely heavy that
which moves downward or to the centre. By lighter or relatively light
we mean that one, of two bodies endowed with weight and equal in
bulk, which is exceeded by the other in the speed of its natural
downward movement.
2
Those of our predecessors who have entered upon this inquiry have
for the most part spoken of light and heavy things only in the sense
in which one of two things both endowed with weight is said to be
the lighter. And this treatment they consider a sufficient analysis also
939
equal number of primary parts: for that would give equality of bulk.
Those who maintain that the primary or atomic parts, of which
bodies endowed with weight are composed, are planes, cannot so
speak without absurdity; but those who regard them as solids are in a
better position to assert that of such bodies the larger is the heavier.
But since in composite bodies the weight obviously does not
correspond in this way to the bulk, the lesser bulk being often
superior in weight (as, for instance, if one be wool and the other
bronze), there are some who think and say that the cause is to be
found elsewhere. The void, they say, which is imprisoned in bodies,
lightens them and sometimes makes the larger body the lighter. The
reason is that there is more void. And this would also account for the
fact that a body composed of a number of solid parts equal to, or
even smaller than, that of another is sometimes larger in bulk than it.
In short, generally and in every case a body is relatively light when it
contains a relatively large amount of void. This is the way they put it
themselves, but their account requires an addition. Relative lightness
must depend not only on an excess of void, but also an a defect of
solid: for if the ratio of solid to void exceeds a certain proportion, the
relative lightness will disappear. Thus fire, they say, is the lightest of
things just for this reason that it has the most void. But it would
follow that a large mass of gold, as containing more void than a small
mass of fire, is lighter than it, unless it also contains many times as
much solid. The addition is therefore necessary.
Of those who deny the existence of a void some, like Anaxagoras and
Empedocles, have not tried to analyse the notions of light and heavy
at all; and those who, while still denying the existence of a void, have
attempted this, have failed to explain why there are bodies which are
absolutely heavy and light, or in other words why some move upward
and others downward. The fact, again, that the body of greater bulk is
sometimes lighter than smaller bodies is one which they have passed
over in silence, and what they have said gives no obvious suggestion
for reconciling their views with the observed facts.
But those who attribute the lightness of fire to its containing so much
void are necessarily involved in practically the same difficulties. For
though fire be supposed to contain less solid than any other body, as
941
well as more void, yet there will be a certain quantum of fire in which
the amount of solid or plenum is in excess of the solids contained in
some small quantity of earth. They may reply that there is an excess
of void also. But the question is, how will they discriminate the
absolutely heavy? Presumably, either by its excess of solid or by its
defect of void. On the former view there could be an amount of earth
so small as to contain less solid than a large mass of fire. And
similarly, if the distinction rests on the amount of void, there will be a
body, lighter than the absolutely light, which nevertheless moves
downward as constantly as the other moves upward. But that cannot
be so, since the absolutely light is always lighter than bodies which
have weight and move downward, while, on the other hand, that
which is lighter need not be light, because in common speech we
distinguish a lighter and a heavier (viz. water and earth) among
bodies endowed with weight. Again, the suggestion of a certain ratio
between the void and the solid in a body is no more equal to solving
the problem before us. The manner of speaking will issue in a similar
impossibility. For any two portions of fire, small or great, will exhibit
the same ratio of solid to void, but the upward movement of the
greater is quicker than that of the less, just as the downward
movement of a mass of gold or lead, or of any other body endowed
with weight, is quicker in proportion to its size. This, however, should
not be the case if the ratio is the ground of distinction between heavy
things and light. There is also an absurdity in attributing the upward
movement of bodies to a void which does not itself move. If, however,
it is the nature of a void to move upward and of a plenum to move
downward, and therefore each causes a like movement in other
things, there was no need to raise the question why composite bodies
are some light and some heavy; they had only to explain why these
two things are themselves light and heavy respectively, and to give,
further, the reason why the plenum and the void are not eternally
separated. It is also unreasonable to imagine a place for the void, as if
the void were not itself a kind of place. But if the void is to move, it
must have a place out of which and into which the change carries it.
Also what is the cause of its movement? Not, surely, its voidness: for
it is not the void only which is moved, but also the solid.
942
3
These, then, are the views which have been advanced by others and
the terms in which they state them. We may begin our own
statement by settling a question which to some has been the main
difficulty the question why some bodies move always and naturally
upward and others downward, while others again move both upward
and downward. After that we will inquire into light and heavy and of
the various phenomena connected with them. The local movement
of each body into its own place must be regarded as similar to what
happens in connexion with other forms of generation and change.
There are, in fact, three kinds of movement, affecting respectively the
943
size, the form, and the place of a thing, and in each it is observable
that change proceeds from a contrary to a contrary or to something
intermediate: it is never the change of any chance subject in any
chance direction, nor, similarly, is the relation of the mover to its
object fortuitous: the thing altered is different from the thing
increased, and precisely the same difference holds between that
which produces alteration and that which produces increase. In the
same manner it must be thought that produces local motion and that
which is so moved are not fortuitously related. Now, that which
produces upward and downward movement is that which produces
weight and lightness, and that which is moved is that which is
potentially heavy or light, and the movement of each body to its own
place is motion towards its own form. (It is best to interpret in this
sense the common statement of the older writers that like moves to
like. For the words are not in every sense true to fact. If one were to
remove the earth to where the moon now is, the various fragments of
earth would each move not towards it but to the place in which it
now is. In general, when a number of similar and undifferentiated
bodies are moved with the same motion this result is necessarily
produced, viz. that the place which is the natural goal of the
movement of each single part is also that of the whole. But since the
place of a thing is the boundary of that which contains it, and the
continent of all things that move upward or downward is the
extremity and the centre, and this boundary comes to be, in a sense,
the form of that which is contained, it is to its like that a body moves
when it moves to its own place. For the successive members of the
scries are like one another: water, I mean, is like air and air like fire,
and between intermediates the relation may be converted, though
not between them and the extremes; thus air is like water, but water
is like earth: for the relation of each outer body to that which is next
within it is that of form to matter.) Thus to ask why fire moves
upward and earth downward is the same as to ask why the healable,
when moved and changed qua healable, attains health and not
whiteness; and similar questions might be asked concerning any
other subject of aletion. Of course the subject of increase, when
changed qua increasable, attains not health but a superior size. The
same applies in the other cases. One thing changes in quality,
944
945
4
We have now to speak of the distinctive properties of these bodies
and of the various phenomena connected with them. In accordance
with general conviction we may distinguish the absolutely heavy, as
that which sinks to the bottom of all things, from the absolutely light,
which is that which rises to the surface of all things. I use the term
absolutely, in view of the generic character of light and heavy, in
order to confine the application to bodies which do not combine
lightness and heaviness. It is apparent, I mean, that fire, in whatever
quantity, so long as there is no external obstacle moves upward, and
earth downward; and, if the quantity is increased, the movement is
the same, though swifter. But the heaviness and lightness of bodies
which combine these qualities is different from this, since while they
rise to the surface of some bodies they sink to the bottom of others.
Such are air and water. Neither of them is absolutely either light or
heavy. Both are lighter than earth for any portion of either rises to
the surface of it but heavier than fire, since a portion of either,
whatever its quantity, sinks to the bottom of fire; compared together,
however, the one has absolute weight, the other absolute lightness,
since air in any quantity rises to the surface of water, while water in
any quantity sinks to the bottom of air. Now other bodies are
severally light and heavy, and evidently in them the attributes are
due to the difference of their uncompounded parts: that is to say,
according as the one or the other happens to preponderate the bodies
will be heavy and light respectively. Therefore we need only speak of
these parts, since they are primary and all else consequential: and in
so doing we shall be following the advice which we gave to those
whose attribute heaviness to the presence of plenum and lightness to
that of void. It is due to the properties of the elementary bodies that a
body which is regarded as light in one place is regarded as heavy in
another, and vice versa. In air, for instance, a talents weight of wood
is heavier than a mina of lead, but in water the wood is the lighter.
The reason is that all the elements except fire have weight and all
but earth lightness. Earth, then, and bodies in which earth
preponderates, must needs have weight everywhere, while water is
heavy anywhere but in earth, and air is heavy when not in water or
earth. In its own place each of these bodies has weight except fire,
946
even air. Of this we have evidence in the fact that a bladder when
inflated weighs more than when empty. A body, then, in which air
preponderates over earth and water, may well be lighter than
something in water and yet heavier than it in air, since such a body
does not rise in air but rises to the surface in water.
The following account will make it plain that there is an absolutely
light and an absolutely heavy body. And by absolutely light I mean
one which of its own nature always moves upward, by absolutely
heavy one which of its own nature always moves downward, if no
obstacle is in the way. There are, I say, these two kinds of body, and it
is not the case, as some maintain, that all bodies have weight.
Different views are in fact agreed that there is a heavy body, which
moves uniformly towards the centre. But is also similarly a light body.
For we see with our eyes, as we said before, that earthy things sink to
the bottom of all things and move towards the centre. But the centre
is a fixed point. If therefore there is some body which rises to the
surface of all things and we observe fire to move upward even in air
itself, while the air remains at rest clearly this body is moving
towards the extremity. It cannot then have any weight. If it had, there
would be another body in which it sank: and if that had weight, there
would be yet another which moved to the extremity and thus rose to
the surface of all moving things. In fact, however, we have no
evidence of such a body. Fire, then, has no weight. Neither has earth
any lightness, since it sinks to the bottom of all things, and that
which sinks moves to the centre. That there is a centre towards
which the motion of heavy things, and away from which that of light
things is directed, is manifest in many ways. First, because no
movement can continue to infinity. For what cannot be can no more
come-to-be than be, and movement is a coming-to-be in one place
from another. Secondly, like the upward movement of fire, the
downward movement of earth and all heavy things makes equal
angles on every side with the earths surface: it must therefore be
directed towards the centre. Whether it is really the centre of the
earth and not rather that of the whole to which it moves, may be left
to another inquiry, since these are coincident. But since that which
sinks to the bottom of all things moves to the centre, necessarily that
which rises to the surface moves to the extremity of the region in
947
which the movement of these bodies takes place. For the centre is
opposed as contrary to the extremity, as that which sinks is opposed
to that which rises to the surface. This also gives a reasonable ground
for the duality of heavy and light in the spatial duality centre and
extremity. Now there is also the intermediate region to which each
name is given in opposition to the other extreme. For that which is
intermediate between the two is in a sense both extremity and
centre. For this reason there is another heavy and light; namely,
water and air. But in our view the continent pertains to form and the
contained to matter: and this distinction is present in every genus.
Alike in the sphere of quality and in that of quantity there is that
which corresponds rather to form and that which corresponds to
matter. In the same way, among spatial distinctions, the above
belongs to the determinate, the below to matter. The same holds,
consequently, also of the matter itself of that which is heavy and
light: as potentially possessing the one character, it is matter for the
heavy, and as potentially possessing the other, for the light. It is the
same matter, but its being is different, as that which is receptive of
disease is the same as that which is receptive of health, though in
being different from it, and therefore diseasedness is different from
healthiness.
5
A thing then which has the one kind of matter is light and always
moves upward, while a thing which has the opposite matter is heavy
and always moves downward. Bodies composed of kinds of matter
different from these but having relatively to each other the character
which these have absolutely, possess both the upward and the
downward motion. Hence air and water each have both lightness and
weight, and water sinks to the bottom of all things except earth,
while air rises to the surface of all things except fire. But since there
is one body only which rises to the surface of all things and one only
which sinks to the bottom of all things, there must needs be two
other bodies which sink in some bodies and rise to the surface of
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6
The shape of bodies will not account for their moving upward or
downward in general, though it will account for their moving faster
or slower. The reasons for this are not difficult to see. For the problem
thus raised is why a flat piece of iron or lead floats upon water, while
smaller and less heavy things, so long as they are round or long a
needle, for instance sink down; and sometimes a thing floats
950
because it is small, as with gold dust and the various earthy and
dusty materials which throng the air. With regard to these questions,
it is wrong to accept the explanation offered by Democritus. He says
that the warm bodies moving up out of the water hold up heavy
bodies which are broad, while the narrow ones fall through, because
the bodies which offer this resistance are not numerous. But this
would be even more likely to happen in air an objection which he
himself raises. His reply to the objection is feeble. In the air, he says,
the drive (meaning by drive the movement of the upward moving
bodies) is not uniform in direction. But since some continua are
easily divided and others less easily, and things which produce
division differ similarly in the case with which they produce it, the
explanation must be found in this fact. It is the easily bounded, in
proportion as it is easily bounded, which is easily divided; and air is
more so than water, water than earth. Further, the smaller the
quantity in each kind, the more easily it is divided and disrupted.
Thus the reason why broad things keep their place is because they
cover so wide a surface and the greater quantity is less easily
disrupted. Bodies of the opposite shape sink down because they
occupy so little of the surface, which is therefore easily parted. And
these considerations apply with far greater force to air, since it is so
much more easily divided than water. But since there are two factors,
the force responsible for the downward motion of the heavy body
and the disruption-resisting force of the continuous surface, there
must be some ratio between the two. For in proportion as the force
applied by the heavy thing towards disruption and division exceeds
that which resides in the continuum, the quicker will it force its way
down; only if the force of the heavy thing is the weaker, will it ride
upon the surface.
We have now finished our examination of the heavy and the light
and of the phenomena connected with them.
951
Book I
1
Our next task is to study coming-to-be and passing-away. We
are to distinguish the causes, and to state the definitions, of
these processes considered in general as changes predicable
uniformly of all the things that come-to-be and pass-away by
nature. Further, we are to study growth and alteration. We
must inquire what each of them is; and whether alteration is
to be identified with coming-to-be, or whether to these different
names there correspond two separate processes with distinct
natures.
On this question, indeed, the early philosophers are divided.
Some of them assert that the so-called unqualified coming-tobe is alteration, while others maintain that alteration and
coming-to-be are distinct. For those who say that the universe is
one something (i.e. those who generate all things out of one
thing) are bound to assert that coming-to-be is alteration, and
that whatever comes-to-be in the proper sense of the term is
being altered: but those who make the matter of things more
than one must distinguish coming-to-be from alteration. To
this latter class belong Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Leucippus.
And yet Anaxagoras himself failed to understand his own
utterance. He says, at all events, that coming-to-be and passing-
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uses language to this effect, when he says There is no comingto-be of anything, but only a mingling and a divorce of what has
been mingled. Thus it is clear (i) that to describe coming-to-be
and passing-away in these terms is in accordance with their
fundamental assumption, and (ii) that they do in fact so
describe them: nevertheless, they too must recognize
alteration as a fact distinct from coming-to-be, though it is
impossible for them to do so consistently with what they say.
That we are right in this criticism is easy to perceive. For
alteration is a fact of observation. While the substance of the
thing remains unchanged, we see it altering just as we see in it
the changes of magnitude called growth and diminution.
Nevertheless, the statements of those who posit more original
reals than one make alteration impossible. For alteration, as
we assert, takes place in respect to certain qualities: and these
qualities (I mean, e.g. hot-cold, white-black, dry-moist, softhard, and so forth) are, all of them, differences characterizing
the elements. The actual words of Empedocles may be quoted
in illustration :
The sun everywhere bright to see, and hot,
The rain everywhere dark and cold;
and he distinctively characterizes his remaining elements in a
similar manner. Since, therefore, it is not possible for Fire to
become Water, or Water to become Earth, neither will it be
possible for anything white to become black, or anything soft to
become hard; and the same argument applies to all the other
qualities. Yet this is what alteration essentially is.
It follows, as an obvious corollary, that a single matter must
always be assumed as underlying the contrary poles of any
change whether change of place, or growth and diminution, or
alteration; further, that the being of this matter and the being
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2
We have therefore to discuss the whole subject of unqualified
coming-to-be and passing-away; we have to inquire whether
these changes do or do not occur and, if they occur, to explain
the precise conditions of their occurrence. We must also discuss
the remaining forms of change, viz. growth and alteration. For
though, no doubt, Plato investigated the conditions under which
things come-to-be and pass-away, he confined his inquiry to
these changes; and he discussed not all coming-to-be, but only
that of the elements. He asked no questions as to how flesh or
bones, or any of the other similar compound things, come-tobe; nor again did he examine the conditions under which
alteration or growth are attributable to things.
A similar criticism applies to all our predecessors with the
single exception of Democritus. Not one of them penetrated
below the surface or made a thorough examination of a single
one of the problems. Democritus, however, does seem not only
to have thought carefully about all the problems, but also to be
distinguished from the outset by his method. For, as we are
saying, none of the other philosophers made any definite
statement about growth, except such as any amateur might
have made. They said that things grow by the accession of like
to like, but they did not proceed to explain the manner of this
accession. Nor did they give any account of combination: and
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3
Now that we have established the preceding distinctions, we
must first consider whether there is anything which comes-tobe and passes-away in the unqualified sense: or whether
nothing comes-to-be in this strict sense, but everything always
comes-to-be something and out of something I mean, e.g.
comes-to-be-healthy out of being-ill and ill out of being-healthy,
comes-to-be-small out of being-big and big out of being-small,
and so on in every other instance. For if there is to be comingto-be without qualification, something must without
qualification come-to-be out of not-being, so that it would be
true to say that not-being is an attribute of some things. For
qualified coming-to-be is a process out of qualified not-being
(e.g. out of not-white or not-beautiful), but unqualified comingto-be is a process out of unqualified not-being.
Now unqulified means either (i) the primary predication within
each Category, or (ii) the universal, i.e. the all-comprehensive,
predication. Hence, if unqualified not-being means the
negation of being in the sense of the primary term of the
Category in question, we shall have, in unqualified coming-tobe, a coming-to-be of a substance out of not-substance. But
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Our new question too viz. what is the cause of the unbroken
continuity of coming-to-be? is sufficiently perplexing, if in
fact what passes-away vanishes into what is not and what is
not is nothing (since what is not is neither a thing, nor
possessed of a quality or quantity, nor in any place). If, then,
some one of the things which are constantly disappearing, why
has not the whole of what is been used up long ago and
vanished away assuming of course that the material of all the
several comings-to-be was finite? For, presumably, the unfailing
continuity of coming-to-be cannot be attributed to the infinity
of the material. That is impossible, for nothing is actually
infinite. A thing is infinite only potentially, i.e. the dividing of it
can continue indefinitely: so that we should have to suppose
there is only one kind of coming-to-be in the world viz. one
which never fails, because it is such that what comes-to-be is
on each successive occasion smaller than before. But in fact this
is not what we see occurring.
Why, then, is this form of change necessarily ceaseless? Is it
because the passing-away of this is a coming-to-be of
something else, and the coming-to-be of this a passing-away of
something else?
The cause implied in this solution must no doubt be considered
adequate to account for coming-to-be and passing-away in their
general character as they occur in all existing things alike. Yet, if
the same process is a coming-to-be of this but a passing-away
of that, and a passing-away of this but a coming-to-be of that,
why are some things said to come-to-be and pass-away without
qualification, but others only with a qualification?
The distinction must be investigated once more, for it demands
some explanation. (It is applied in a twofold manner.) For (i) we
say it is now passing-away without qualification, and not
merely this is passing-away: and we call this change coming-
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whereas cold is a privation, and that Earth and Fire differ from
one another by these constitutive differences.)
The opinion, however, which most people are inclined to prefer,
is that the distinction depends upon the difference between the
perceptible and the imperceptible. Thus, when there is a
change into perceptible material, people say there is coming-tobe; but when there is a change into invisible material, they call
it passing-away. For they distinguish what is and what is not
by their perceiving and not-perceiving, just as what is knowable
is and what is unknowable is not perception on their view
having the force of knowledge. Hence, just as they deem
themselves to live and to be in virtue of their perceiving or
their capacity to perceive, so too they deem the things to be
qua perceived or perceptible and in this they are in a sense on
the track of the truth, though what they actually say is not true.
Thus unqualified coming-to-be and passing-away turn out to be
different according to common opinion from what they are in
truth. For Wind and Air are in truth more real more a this
somewhat or a form than Earth. But they are less real to
perception which explains why things are commonly said to
pass-away without qualification when they change into Wind
and Air, and to come-to-be when they change into what is
tangible, i.e. into Earth.
We have now explained why there is unqualified coming-to-be
(though it is a passing-away-of-something) and unqualified
passing-away (though it is a coming-to-be-of-something). For
this distinction of appellation depends upon a difference in the
material out of which, and into which, the changes are effected.
It depends either upon whether the material is or is not
substantial, or upon whether it is more or less substantial, or
upon whether it is more or less perceptible.
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4
Next we must state what the difference is between coming-tobe and alteration for we maintain that these changes are
distinct from one another.
970
Since, then, we must distinguish (a) the substratum, and (b) the
property whose nature it is to be predicated of the substratum;
and since change of each of these occurs; there is alteration
when the substratum is perceptible and persists, but changes in
its own properties, the properties in question being opposed to
one another either as contraries or as intermediates. The body,
e.g. although persisting as the same body, is now healthy and
now ill; and the bronze is now spherical and at another time
angular, and yet remains the same bronze. But when nothing
perceptible persists in its identity as a substratum, and the
thing changes as a whole (when e.g. the seed as a whole is
converted into blood, or water into air, or air as a whole into
water), such an occurrence is no longer alteration. It is a
coming-to-be of one substance and a passing-away of the other
especially if the change proceeds from an imperceptible
something to something perceptible (either to touch or to all the
senses), as when water comes-to-be out of, or passes-away into,
air: for air is pretty well imperceptible. If, however, in such
cases, any property (being one of a pair of contraries) persists, in
the thing that has come-to-be, the same as it was in the thing
which has passed-away if, e.g. when water comes-to-be out of
air, both are transparent or cold the second thing, into which
the first changes, must not be a property of this persistent
identical something. Otherwise the change will be alteration.
Suppose, e.g. that the musical man passed-away and an
unmusical man came-to-be, and that the man persists as
something identical. Now, if musicalness and unmusicalness
had not been a property essentially inhering in man, these
changes would have been a coming-to-be of unmusicalness and
a passing-away of musicalness: but in fact musicalness and
unmusicalness are a property of the persistent identity, viz.
man. (Hence, as regards man, these changes are modifications;
though, as regards musical man and unmusical man, they are a
passing-away and a coming-to-be.) Consequently such changes
971
5
We must explain (i) wherein growth differs from coming-to-be
and from alteration, and ii) what is the process of growing and
the sprocess of diminishing in each and all of the things that
grow and diminish.
Hence our first question is this: Do these changes differ from
one another solely because of a difference in their respective
spheres? In other words, do they differ because, while a change
from this to that (viz. from potential to actual substance) is
coming-to-be, a change in the sphere of magnitude is growth
and one in the sphere of quality is alteration both growth and
alteration being changes from what is-potentially to what isactually magnitude and quality respectively? Or is there also a
difference in the manner of the change, since it is evident that,
whereas neither what is altering nor what is coming-to-be
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977
its constituents); and (ii) that flesh, bone, and every such part
like every other thing which has its form immersed in matter
has a twofold nature: for the form as well as the matter is called
flesh or bone.
Now, that any and every part of the tissue qua form should grow
and grow by the accession of something is possible, but not
that any and every part of the tissue qua matter should do so.
For we must think of the tissue after the image of flowing water
that is measured by one and the same measure: particle after
particle comes-to-be, and each successive particle is different.
And it is in this sense that the matter of the flesh grows, some
flowing out and some flowing in fresh; not in the sense that
fresh matter accedes to every particle of it. There is, however, an
accession to every part of its figure or form.
That growth has taken place proportionally, is more manifest in
the organic parts e.g. in the hand. For there the fact that the
matter is distinct from the form is more manifest than in flesh,
i.e. than in the tissues. That is why there is a greater tendency
to suppose that a corpse still possesses flesh and bone than
that it still has a hand or an arm.
Hence in one sense it is true that any and every part of the flesh
has grown; but in another sense it is false. For there has been an
accession to every part of the flesh in respect to its form, but
not in respect to its matter. The whole, however, has become
larger. And this increase is due (a) on the one hand to the
accession of something, which is called food and is said to be
contrary to flesh, but (b) on the other hand to the
transformation of this food into the same form as that of flesh
as if, e.g. moist were to accede to dry and, having acceded,
were to be transformed and to become dry. For in one sense
Like grows by Like, but in another sense Unlike grows by
Unlike.
978
6
(In discussing the causes of coming-to-be) we must first
investigate the matter, i.e. the so-called elements. We must ask
whether they really are clements or not, i.e. whether each of
them is eternal or whether there is a sense in which they cometo-be: and, if they do come-to-be, whether all of them come-tobe in the same manner reciprocally out of one another, or
whether one amongst them is something primary. Hence we
must begin by explaining certain preliminary matters, about
which the statements now current are vague.
For all (the pluralist philosophers) those who generate the
elements as well as those who generate the bodies that are
compounded of the elements make use of dissociation and
association, and of action and passion. Now association is
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7
Next in order we must discuss action and passion. The
traditional theories on the subject are conflicting. For (i) most
thinkers are unanimous in maintaining (a) that like is always
unaffected by like, because (as they argue) neither of two likes
is more apt than the other either to act or to suffer action, since
all the properties which belong to the one belong identically
and in the same degree to the other; and (b) that unlikes, i.e.
differents, are by nature such as to act and suffer action
reciprocally. For even when the smaller fire is destroyed by the
greater, it suffers this effect (they say) owing to its contrariety
since the great is contrary to the small. But (ii) Democritus
dissented from all the other thinkers and maintained a theory
peculiar to himself. He asserts that agent and patient are
identical, i.e. like. It is not possible (he says) that others, i.e.
differents, should suffer action from one another: on the
contrary, even if two things, being others, do act in some way
on one another, this happens to them not qua others but qua
possessing an identical property.
Such, then, are the traditional theories, and it looks as if the
statements of their advocates were in manifest conflict. But the
reason of this conflict is that each group is in fact stating a part,
whereas they ought to have taken a comprehensive view of the
subject as a whole. For (i) if A and B are like absolutely and in
all respects without difference from one another it is
reasonable to infer that neither is in any way affected by the
other. Why, indeed, should either of them tend to act any more
than the other? Moreover, if like can be affected by like, a
thing can also be affected by itself: and yet if that were so if
like tended in fact to act qua like there would be nothing
indestructible or immovable, for everything would move itself.
And (ii) the same consequence follows if A and B are absolutely
other, i.e. in no respect identical. Whiteness could not be
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8
Some philosophers think that the last agent the agent in the
strictest sense enters in through certain pores, and so the
patient suffers action. It is in this way, they assert, that we see
and hear and exercise all our other senses. Moreover, according
987
to them, things are seen through air and water and other
transparent bodies, because such bodies possess pores, invisible
indeed owing to their minuteness, but close-set and arranged in
rows: and the more transparent the body, the more frequent
and serial they suppose its pores to be. Such was the theory
which some philosophers (induding Empedocles) advanced in
regard to the structure of certain bodies. They do not restrict it
to the bodies which act and suffer action: but combination too,
they say, takes place only between bodies whose pores are in
reciprocal symmetry. The most systematic and consistent
theory, however, and one that applied to all bodies, was
advanced by Leucippus and Democritus: and, in maintaining it,
they took as their starting-point what naturally comes first.
For some of the older philosophers thought that what is must
of necessity be one and immovable. The void, they argue, is
not: but unless there is a void with a separate being of its own,
what is cannot be moved nor again can it be many, since
there is nothing to keep things apart. And in this respect, they
insist, the view that the universe is not continuous but
discretes-in-contact is no better than the view that there are
many (and not one) and a void. For (suppose that the universe
is discretes-in-contact. Then), if it is divisible through and
through, there is no one, and therefore no many either, but
the Whole is void; while to maintain that it is divisible at some
points, but not at others, looks like an arbitrary fiction. For up to
what limit is it divisible? And for what reason is part of the
Whole indivisible, i.e. a plenum, and part divided? Further, they
maintain, it is equally necessary to deny the existence of
motion.
Reasoning in this way, therefore, they were led to transcend
sense-perception, and to disregard it on the ground that one
ought to follow the argument: and so they assert that the
universe is one and immovable. Some of them add that it is
988
infinite, since the limit (if it had one) would be a limit against
the void.
There were, then, certain thinkers who, for the reasons we have
stated, enunciated views of this kind as their theory of The
Truth.... Moreover, although these opinions appear to follow
logically in a dialectical discussion, yet to believe them seems
next door to madness when one considers the facts. For indeed
no lunatic seems to be so far out of his senses as to suppose
that fire and ice are one: it is only between what is right and
what seems right from habit, that some people are mad enough
to see no difference.
Leucippus, however, thought he had a theory which harmonized
with sense-perception and would not abolish either coming-tobe and passing-away or motion and the multiplicity of things.
He made these concessions to the facts of perception: on the
other hand, he conceded to the Monists that there could be no
motion without a void. The result is a theory which he states as
follows: The void is a not being, and no part of what is is a
not-being; for what is in the strict sense of the term is an
absolute plenum. This plenum, however, is not one: on the
contrary, it is a many infinite in number and invisible owing to
the minuteness of their bulk. The many move in the void (for
there is a void): and by coming together they produce comingto-be, while by separating they produce passing-away.
Moreover, they act and suffer action wherever they chance to be
in contact (for there they are not one), and they generate by
being put together and becoming intertwined. From the
genuinely-one, on the other hand, there never could have cometo-be a multiplicity, nor from the genuinely-many a one: that
is impossible. But (just as Empedocles and some of the other
philosophers say that things suffer action through their pores,
so) all alteration and all passion take place in the way that
has been explained: breaking-up (i.e. passing-away) is effected
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9
Let explain the way in which things in fact possess the power of
generating, and of acting and suffering action: and let us start
from the principle we have often enunciated. For, assuming the
distinction between (a) that which is potentially and (b) that
which is actually such-and-such, it is the nature of the first,
precisely in so far as it is what it is, to suffer action through and
through, not merely to be susceptible in some parts while
insusceptible in others. But its susceptibility varies in degree,
according as it is more or less; such-and-such, and one would
be more justified in speaking of pores in this connexion: for
instance, in the metals there are veins of the susceptible
stretching continuously through the substance.
So long, indeed, as any body is naturally coherent and one, it is
insusceptible. So, too, bodies are insusceptible so long as they
are not in contact either with one another or with other bodies
which are by nature such as to act and suffer action. (To
illustrate my meaning: Fire heats not only when in contact, but
also from a distance. For the fire heats the air, and the air
being by nature such as both to act and suffer action heats the
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10
But we have still to explain combination, for that was the third
of the subjects we originally proposed to discuss. Our
explanation will proceed on the same method as before. We
must inquire: What is combination, and what is that which can
combine? Of what things, and under what conditions, is
combination a property? And, further, does combination exist
in fact, or is it false to assert its existence?
For, according to some thinkers, it is impossible for one thing to
be combined with another. They argue that (i) if both the
combined constituents persist unaltered, they are no more
combined now than they were before, but are in the same
condition: while (ii) if one has been destroyed, the constituents
have not been combined on the contrary, one constituent is
and the other is not, whereas combination demands
uniformity of condition in them both: and on the same principle
(iii) even if both the combining constituents have been
destroyed as the result of their coalescence, they cannot have
been combined since they have no being at all.
What we have in this argument is, it would seem, a demand for
the precise distinction of combination from coming-to-be and
passing-away (for it is obvious that combination, if it exists,
must differ from these processes) and for the precise distinction
of the combinable from that which is such as to come-to-be
and pass-away. As soon, therefore, as these distinctions are
clear, the difficulties raised by the argument would be solved.
996
Now (i) we do not speak of the wood as combined with the fire,
nor of its burning as a combining either of its particles with
one another or of itself with the fire: what we say is that the
fire is coming-to-be, but the wood is passing-away. Similarly,
we speak neither (ii) of the food as combining with the body,
nor (iii) of the shape as combining with the wax and thus
fashioning the lump. Nor can body combine with white, nor (to
generalize) properties and states with things: for we see
them persisting unaltered. But again (iv) white and knowledge
cannot be combined either, nor any other of the adjectivals.
(Indeed, this is a blemish in the theory of those who assert that
once upon a time all things were together and combined. For
not everything can combine with everything. On the contrary,
both of the constituents that are combined in the compound
must originally have existed in separation: but no property can
have separate existence.)
Since, however, some things are-potentially while others areactually, the constituents combined in a compound can be in a
sense and yet not-be. The compound may be-actually other
than the constituents from which it has resulted; nevertheless
each of them may still be-potentially what it was before they
were combined, and both of them may survive undestroyed.
(For this was the difficulty that emerged in the previous
argument: and it is evident that the combining constituents not
only coalesce, having formerly existed in separation, but also
can again be separated out from the compound.) The
constituents, therefore, neither (a) persist actually, as body and
white persist: nor (b) are they destroyed (either one of them or
both), for their power of action is preserved. Hence these
difficulties may be dismissed: but the problem immediately
connected with them whether combination is something
relative to perception must be set out and discussed.
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999
1000
Book II
1
We have explained under what conditions combination,
contact, and action-passion are attributable to the things
which undergo natural change. Further, we have discussed
unqualified coming-to-be and passing-away, and explained
under what conditions they are predicable, of what subject, and
owing to what cause. Similarly, we have also discussed
alteration, and explained what altering is and how it differs
from coming-to-be and passing-away. But we have still to
investigate the so-called elements of bodies.
For the complex substances whose formation and maintenance
are due to natural processes all presuppose the perceptible
bodies as the condition of their coming-to-be and passing-away:
but philosophers disagree in regard to the matter which
underlies these perceptible bodies. Some maintain it is single,
supposing it to be, e.g. Air or Fire, or an intermediate between
these two (but still a body with a separate existence). Others, on
the contrary, postulate two or more materials ascribing to
their association and dissociation, or to their alteration, the
coming-to-be and passing-away of things. (Some, for instance,
postulate Fire and Earth: some add Air, making three: and some,
like Empedocles, reckon Water as well, thus postulating four.)
1001
from, the contrary qualities: for the hot is not matter for the
cold nor the cold for the hot, but the substratum is matter for
them both. We therefore have to recognize three originative
sources: firstly that which potentially perceptible body,
secondly the contrarieties (I mean, e.g. heat and cold), and
thirdly Fire, Water, and the like. Only thirdly, however: for these
bodies change into one another (they are not immutable as
Empedocles and other thinkers assert, since alteration would
then have been impossible), whereas the contrarieties do not
change.
Nevertheless, even so the question remains: What sorts of
contrarieties, and how many of them, are to be accounted
originative sources of body? For all the other thinkers assume
and use them without explaining why they are these or why
they are just so many.
2
Since, then, we are looking for originative sources of
perceptible body; and since perceptible is equivalent to
tangible, and tangible is that of which the perception is touch;
it is clear that not all the contrarieties constitute forms and
originative sources of body, but only those which correspond to
touch. For it is in accordance with a contrariety a contrariety,
moreover, of tangible qualities that the primary bodies are
differentiated. That is why neither whiteness (and blackness),
nor sweetness (and bitterness), nor (similarly) any quality
belonging to the other perceptible contrarieties either,
constitutes an element. And yet vision is prior to touch, so that
its object also is prior to the object of touch. The object of vision,
however, is a quality of tangible body not qua tangible, but qua
1003
1004
derives from the moist: for the viscous (e.g. oil) is a moist
modified in a certain way. The brittle, on the other hand,
derives from the dry: for brittle is that which is completely dry
so completely, that its solidification has actually been due to
failure of moisture. Further (c) the soft derives from the moist.
For soft is that which yields to pressure by retiring into itself,
though it does not yield by total displacement as the moist does
which explains why the moist is not soft, although the soft
derives from the moist. The hard, on the other hand, derives
from the dry: for hard is that which is solidified, and the
solidified is dry.
The terms dry and moist have more senses than one. For the
damp, as well as the moist, is opposed to the dry: and again
the solidified, as well as the dry, is opposed to the moist. But
all these qualities derive from the dry and moist we mentioned
first. For (i) the dry is opposed to the damp: i.e. damp is that
which has foreign moisture on its surface (sodden being that
which is penetrated to its core), while dry is that which has
lost foreign moisture. Hence it is evident that the damp will
derive from the moist, and the dry which is opposed to it will
derive from the primary dry. Again (ii) the moist and the
solidified derive in the same way from the primary pair. For
moist is that which contains moisture of its own deep within it
(sodden being that which is deeply penetrated by foreign
mosture), whereas solidigied is that which has lost this inner
moisture. Hence these too derive from the primary pair, the
solidified from the dry and the solidified from the dry the
liquefiable from the moist.
It is clear, then, that all the other differences reduce to the first
four, but that these admit of no further reduction. For the hot is
not essentially moist or dry, nor the moist essentially hot or
cold: nor are the cold and the dry derivative forms, either of one
another or of the hot and the moist. Hence these must be four.
1005
3
The elementary qualities are four, and any four terms can be
combined in six couples. Contraries, however, refuse to be
coupled: for it is impossible for the same thing to be hot and
cold, or moist and dry. Hence it is evident that the couplings of
the elementary qualities will be four: hot with dry and moist
with hot, and again cold with dry and cold with moist. And
these four couples have attached themselves to the apparently
simple bodies (Fire, Air, Water, and Earth) in a manner
consonant with theory. For Fire is hot and dry, whereas Air is
hot and moist (Air being a sort of aqueous vapour); and Water is
cold and moist, while Earth is cold and dry. Thus the differences
are reasonably distributed among the primary bodies, and the
number of the latter is consonant with theory. For all who make
the simple bodies elements postulate either one, or two, or
three, or four. Now (i) those who assert there is one only, and
then generate everything else by condensation and rarefaction,
are in effect making their originative sources two, viz. the rare
and the dense, or rather the hot and the cold: for it is these
which are the moulding forces, while the one underlies them
as a matter. But (ii) those who postulate two from the start as
Parmenides postulated Fire and Earth make the intermediates
(e.g. Air and Water) blends of these. The same course is followed
(iii) by those who advocate three. (We may compare what Plato
does in Me Divisions: for he makes the middle a blend.)
Indeed, there is practically no difference between those who
postulate two and those who postulate three, except that the
former split the middle element into two, while the latter treat
it as only one. But (iv) some advocate four from the start, e.g.
1006
4
It has been established before that the coming-to-be of the
simple bodies is reciprocal. At the same time, it is manifest,
1007
1008
1009
5
If Water, Air, and the like are a matter of which the natural
bodies consist, as some thinkers in fact believe, these clements
must be either one, or two, or more. Now they cannot all of
them be one they cannot, e.g. all be Air or Water or Fire or
1010
1011
only (as Plato wrote in the Timaeus). Now it has been proved
before that they must undergo reciprocal transformation. It has
also been proved that the speed with which they come-to-be,
one out of another, is not uniform since the process of
reciprocal transformation is relatively quick between the
elements with a complementary factor, but relatively slow
between those which possess no such factor. Assuming, then,
that the contrariety, in respect to which they are transformed, is
one, the elements will inevitably be two: for it is matter that is
the mean between the two contraries, and matter is
imperceptible and inseparable from them. Since, however, the
elements are seen to be more than two, the contrarieties must
at the least be two. But the contrarieties being two, the
elements must be four (as they evidently are) and cannot be
three: for the couplings are four, since, though six are possible,
the two in which the qualities are contrary to one another
cannot occur.
These subjects have been discussed before: but the following
arguments will make it clear that, since the elements are
transformed into one another, it is impossible for any one of
them whether it be at the end or in the middle to be an
originative source of the rest. There can be no such originative
element at the ends: for all of them would then be Fire or Earth,
and this theory amounts to the assertion that all things are
made of Fire or Earth. Nor can a middle-element be such an
originative source as some thinkers suppose that Air is
transformed both into Fire and into Water, and Water both into
Air and into Earth, while the end-elements are not further
transformed into one another. For the process must come to a
stop, and cannot continue ad infinitum in a straight line in
either direction, since otherwise an infinite number of
contrarieties would attach to the single element. Let E stand
for Earth, W for Water, A for Air, and F for Fire. Then (i) since A is
transformed into F and W, there will be a contrariety belonging
1012
6
As for those who agree with Empedocles that the elements of
body are more than one, so that they are not transformed into
one another one may well wonder in what sense it is open to
them to maintain that the elements are comparable. Yet
Empedocles says For these are all not only equal...
If it is meant that they are comparable in their amount, all the
comparables must possess an identical something whereby
they are measured. If, e.g. one pint of Water yields ten of Air,
both are measured by the same unit; and therefore both were
from the first an identical something. On the other hand,
suppose (ii) they are not comparable in their amount in the
sense that so-much of the one yields so much of the other, but
comparable in power of action (a pint of Water, e.g. having a
power of cooling equal to that of ten pints of Air); even so, they
are comparable in their amount, though not qua amount but
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1016
7
The discussion of these difficulties, however, is a task
appropriate to a different investigation: let us return to the
elements of which bodies are composed. The theories that
1017
8
All the compound bodies all of which exist in the region
belonging to the central body are composed of all the simple
bodies. For they all contain Earth because every simple body is
to be found specially and most abundantly in its own place. And
they all contain Water because (a) the compound must possess
a definite outline and Water, alone of the simple bodies, is
readily adaptable in shape: moreover (b) Earth has no power of
cohesion without the moist. On the contrary, the moist is what
holds it together; for it would fall to pieces if the moist were
eliminated from it completely.
They contain Earth and Water, then, for the reasons we have
given: and they contain Air and Fire, because these are contrary
to Earth and Water (Earth being contrary to Air and Water to
Fire, in so far as one Substance can be contrary to another).
Now all compounds presuppose in their coming-to-be
constituents which are contrary to one another: and in all
1020
9
Since some things are such as to come-to-be and pass-away,
and since coming-to-be in fact occurs in the region about the
centre, we must explain the number and the nature of the
originative sources of all coming-to-be alike: for a grasp of the
true theory of any universal facilitates the understanding of its
specific forms.
1021
1022
1023
10
As to our own theory we have given a general account of the
causes in an earlier work we have now explained and
distinguished the matter and the form. Further, since the
change which is motion has been proved to be eternal, the
continuity of the occurrence of coming-to-be follows necessarily
from what we have established: for the eternal motion, by
causing the generator to approach and retire, will produce
coming-to-be uninterruptedly. At the same time it is clear that
we were right when, in an earlier work, we called motion (not
coming-to-be) the primary form of change. For it is far more
reasonable that what is should cause the coming-to-be of what
is not, than that what is not should cause the being of what is.
Now that which is being moved is, but that which is coming-tobe is not: hence, also, motion is prior to coming-to-be.
1024
and every time (i.e. every life) is measured by a period. Not all of
them, however, are measured by the same period, but some by a
smaller and others by a greater one: for to some of them the
period, which is their measure, is a year, while to some it is
longer and to others shorter.
And there are facts of observation in manifest agreement with
our theories. Thus we see that coming-to-be occurs as the sun
approaches and decay as it retreats; and we see that the two
processes occupy equal times. For the durations of the natural
processes of passing-away and coming-to-be are equal.
Nevertheless it Often happens that things pass-away in too
short a time. This is due to the intermingling by which the
things that come-to-be and pass-away are implicated with one
another. For their matter is irregular, i.e. is not everywhere the
same: hence the processes by which they come-to-be must be
irregular too, i.e. some too quick and others too slow.
Consequently the phenomenon in question occurs, because the
irregular coming-to-be of these things is the passing-away of
other things.
Coming-to-be and passing-away will, as we have said, always be
continuous, and will never fail owing to the cause we stated.
And this continuity has a sufficient reason on our theory. For in
all things, as we affirm, Nature always strives after the better.
Now being (we have explained elsewhere the exact variety of
meanings we recognize in this term) is better than not-being:
but not all things can possess being, since they are too far
removed from the originative source. God therefore adopted
the remaining alternative, and fulfilled the perfection of the
universe by making coming-to-be uninterrupted: for the
greatest possible coherence would thus be secured to existence,
because that coming-to-be should itself come-to-be
perpetually is the closest approximation to eternal being.
1026
1027
11
Wherever there is continuity in any process (coming-to-be or
alteration or any kind of change whatever) we observe
consecutiveness, i.e. this coming-to-be after that without any
interval. Hence we must investigate whether, amongst the
consecutive members, there is any whose future being is
necessary; or whether, on the contrary, every one of them may
fail to come-to-be. For that some of them may fail to occur, is
clear. (a) We need only appeal to the distinction between the
statements x will be and x is about to which depends upon
this fact. For if it be true to say of x that it will be, it must at
some time be true to say of it that it is: whereas, though it be
true to say of x now that it is about to occur, it is quite possible
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
Aristotle Meteorology
[Translated by E. W. Webster]
Book I
1
We have already discussed the first causes of nature, and all
natural motion, also the stars ordered in the motion of the
heavens, and the physical element enumerating and
specifying them and showing how they change into one
another and becoming and perishing in general. 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 order is less perfect than that of
the first of the elements of bodies. They take place in the region
nearest to the motion of the stars. Such are the milky way, and
comets, and the movements of meteors. It studies also all the
affections we may call common to air and water, and the kinds
and parts of the earth and the affections of its parts. These
throw light on the causes of winds and earthquakes and all the
consequences the motions of these kinds and parts involve. Of
these things some puzzle us, while others admit of explanation
in some degree. Further, the inquiry is concerned with the
falling of thunderbolts and with whirlwinds and fire-winds, and
further, the recurrent affections produced in these same bodies
by concretion. When the inquiry into these matters is concluded
let us consider 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
1033
2
We have already laid down that there is one physical element
which makes up the system of the bodies that move in a circle,
and besides this four bodies owing their existence to the four
principles, the motion of these latter bodies being 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 whole world surrounding the earth, 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 the
first cause. Besides, that clement 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.) So
we must treat fire and earth and the elements like them as the
material causes of the events in this world (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.
1034
3
Let us first recall our original principles and the distinctions
already drawn and then explain the milky way and comets and
the other phenomena akin to these.
Fire, air, water, earth, we assert, originate from one another, and
each of them exists potentially in each, as all things do that can
be resolved into a common and ultimate substrate.
The first difficulty is raised by what is called the air. What are
we to take its nature to be in the world surrounding the earth?
And what is its position relatively to 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 demonstrations 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 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 see,
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? 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.
This is an opinion we are not alone in holding: it 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, it is true, seems to me to think that the word
means the same as fire. For he thought that the upper regions
were full of fire, and that men referred to those regions when
1035
they spoke of ether. In the latter point he was right, for men
seem to have assumed that a body that was eternally in motion
was also divine in nature; and, as such a body was different
from any of the terrestrial elements, they determined to call it
ether.
For the um opinions appear in cycles among men not once nor
twice, but infinitely often.
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 moving bodies are
all of them of a small size, because they so to us, looking at
them from the earth.
This a matter which we have already discussed in our
treatment of the upper region, but we may return to the point
now.
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, the air would far exceed the quantitu
required to maintain its proper proportion to 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 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
1036
of water. Nor does it make any difference if any one denies that
the elements originate from one another, but asserts that they
are equal in power. For on this view it is 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 fills the intermediate
space.
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 stars in
the upper region impart heat to the earth and its
neighbourhood. Let us first treat of the air, as we proposed, and
then go on to these questions.
Since water is generated from air, and air from water, why are
clouds not formed in the upper air? They ought 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 relected from the earth. It is these that dissolve any
formation by their heat and so prevent clouds from forming
near the earth. For clouds gather at the point where the
reflected rays disperse in the infinity of space and are lost. To
explain this we must suppose either that it is not all air 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 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 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.
1037
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 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 the air
is not condensed into water, 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,
since heat is an affection of sense, but we may now explain how
it can be produced by the heavenly bodies which are not
themselves hot.
We see that motion is able to dissolve and inflame the air;
indeed, moving bodies are often actually found to melt. Now the
suns motion alone is sufficient to account for the 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
suns motion combines both conditions in a sufficient degree.
That most heat should be generated where the sun is present is
easy to understand if we consider 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
1039
4
Having determined these principles let us explain the cause of
the appearance in the sky of burning flames and of shootingstars, and of torches, and goats, as some people call them. All
these phenomena are one and the 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.
One kind is rather of the nature of vapour, 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, 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
1040
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5
Sometimes on a fine night we see a variety of appearances that
form in the sky: chasms for instance and trenches and bloodred colours. These, too, have the same cause. 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 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 look crimson.
The light will also create colours by reflection when the mirror
is such as to reflect colour only and not shape.
These appearances do not persist
condensation of the air is transient.
long,
because
the
1043
6
Let us go on to explain the nature of comets and the milky
way, after a preliminary discussion of the views of others.
Anaxagoras and Democritus declare that comets are a
conjunction of the planets approaching one another and so
appearing to touch one another.
Some of the Italians called Pythagoreans 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 consequently appears at great
intervals of time.
A view like theirs was also expressed by Hippocrates of Chios
and his pupil Aeschylus. Only they say that the tail does not
belong to the comet iself, 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 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 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 when it approaches the southern tropic, or at the
summer solstice. Hence in these regions it does not develop a
1044
1045
fact. For a star in the thigh of the Dog had a tail, though a faint
one. If you fixed your sight on it its light was dim, but if you just
glanced at it, it appeared 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 appeared to the west in winter in
frosty weather when the sky was clear, in the 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 receded as far as Orions 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 place,
and we have ourselves observed Jupiter coinciding 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. Consequently, just as, if they
really had been indivisible, their conjunction could not have
created any greater magnitude, so 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.
1046
7
We consider a satisfactory explanation of phenomena
inaccessible to observation to have been given when our
account of them is free from impossibilities. The observations
before us suggest the following account of the phenomena we
are now considering. We know that the dry and warm
exhalation is the outermost part of the 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 scattered stars. We may say, then, that a comet is
formed when the upper motion 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 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-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 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.
1047
1048
and fainter this effect does not appear in the same degree,
though as a rule the 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 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 the winter was dry and
north winds prevailed, and the wave was due to an opposition
of winds. For in the gulf a north wind blew and outside it a
violent south wind. Again in the archonship of Nicomachus 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.
That there are few comets and that they appear rarely and
outside the tropic circles more than within them is due to the
motion of the sun and the stars. 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.
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 some say that this is the path
of one of the stars that fell from heaven at the time of
Phaethons 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.
1049
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 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 except where a part of it touches the
circle of the milky way.
(2) Anaxagoras, Democritus, and their schools say that 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 of the sun. But the milky way is the
peculiar light of those stars which are shaded by the earth from
the suns rays.
This, too, is obviously impossible. The milky way is always
unchanged and among the same constellations (for it is clearly
a greatest circle), whereas, since the sun does not remain in the
same place, what is hidden from it differs at different times.
Consequently with the change of the suns position the milky
way ought to change its position 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 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.
(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.
1050
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 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
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
our sight is reflected; but we stand still. And the distance of
those two from us is constant and uniform, but their distance
from one another varies. For the Dolphin sometimes 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 this ought not to
be the case.
Again, we can see the milky way reflected at night in 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 handed down by
others hitherto.
Let us recall our fundamental principle and then explain our
views. We have already laid down 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 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
1051
1052
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 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 which the
sun moves. 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 suns rays
and the other heat from above, and rises. But when the heat
which was raising it leaves it, in part dispersing to the higher
1053
region, in part quenched through rising so far into the upper air,
then the vapour cools because its heat is gone and because the
place is cold, and condenses again and turns from air into
water. And after the water has formed it falls down again to the
earth.
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. So we get a circular
process that follows the course of the sun. For according as the
sun moves to this side or that, 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, 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.
So the moisture is always raised by the heat and descends 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.
10
Some of the vapour that is formed by day does not rise high
because the ratio of the fire that is raising it to the 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
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1055
too. Wells, for instance, give off more vapour 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 a south
wind the evaporation is allowed to accumulate.
Water, once formed, does not freeze on the surface of the earth,
in the way that it does in the region of the clouds.
11
From the latter there fall three bodies condensed by cold,
namely rain, snow, hail. Two of these correspond to the
phenomena on the lower level and are due to the same 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 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 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 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 the
1056
12
But we must go on to collect the facts bearing on the origin of it,
both those which raise no difficulties and those which seem
paradoxical.
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 a difficulty about water freezing in the
upper region. It 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
iar (the water swimming on the air just as small particles of
earth and gold often swim on water). In that case large drops
are 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 think that the cause and origin of hail is this. The cloud is
thrust up into the upper atmosphere, which is colder because
the reflection of the suns rays from the earth ceases there, and
upon its arrival there the water freezes. They think that this
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1058
and that the more the further the cloud has descended). 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 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 hailstones because of the shortness of their fall. For the
same reason large raindrops do not fall thickly. Hail is rarer in
summer 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.
The fact that the water has previously been warmed contributes
to its freezing quickly: for so it cools sooner. Hence many
people, when they want to cool hot water quickly, begin by
putting it in the sun. So the inhabitants of Pontus when they
encamp on the ice to fish (they cut a hole in the ice and then
fish) pour warm water round their reeds that it may freeze the
quicker, for they use the 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 torrents and
repeatedly on the same day. For the concentration 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, dew,
snow, hoar-frost, and hail.
1059
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 that the most ordinary man could
not have thought of.
Some 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 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 on each occasion, but really do not differ at all. This is just
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 one case than in the other, this
ingenious idea is plainly 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 the vessel is empty, as if let out of a wineskin, or, as
painters represent the winds, as drawing their source from
themselves.
We find analogous views about the origin of rivers. It is thought
that the water is raised by the sun and descends in rain and
1060
gathers below the earth and so flows from a great reservoir, all
the rivers from one, or each from a different one. No water at all
is generated, but the volume of the rivers 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 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.
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.
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 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.
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 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. When men construct an aqueduct they collect the
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1062
third part of the night before sunrise and again after sunset. Its
extent is proved by the fact that thought contains many
inhabitable regions which are occupied by many nations and in
which there are said to be great lakes, yet they say that all these
regions are visible up to the last peak. From Pyrene (this is a
mountain towards the west in Celtice) there flow the Istrus and
the Tartessus. The latter flows outside the pillars, while the
Istrus flows through all Europe into the Euxine. Most of the
remaining rivers flow northwards from the Hercynian
mountains, which are the greatest in height and extent about
that region. In the extreme north, beyond furthest Scythia, are
the mountains called Rhipae. The stories about their size are
altogether too fabulous: however, they say that the most and
(after the Istrus) the greatest rivers flow from them. So, too, in
Libya there flow from the Aethiopian mountains the Aegon and
the Nyses; and from the so-called Silver Mountain the two
greatest of named rivers, the river called Chremetes that flows
into the outer ocean, and the main source of the Nile. Of the
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 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 region of the
clouds would be) 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
1063
store. Secondly, the fact that rivers 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 about the existence of such places containing a
quantity of water like lakes: only they cannot be big enough to
produce 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 lakes to contain
the whole volume of water than these springs.
That there exist such chasms and cavities in the earth we 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 full of water, and this, having no outlet,
under the pressure of the water that is added above, finds a way
out for itself underground. In Greece this kind of thing happens
on quite a small scale, but the lake at the foot of the Caucasus,
which the inhabitants of these parts call a sea, is considerable.
Many great rivers fall into it and it has no visible outlet but
issues below the earth off the land of the Coraxi about the socalled 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 comes up sweet water over a large area, not all
of it together but in three places. And in Liguria a river equal in
size to the Rhodanus is swallowed up and appears again
elsewhere: the Rhodanus being a navigable river.
1064
14
The same parts of the earth are not always moist or dry, 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 does
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 dry land. 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 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 grow
old, while other parts in their turn are filled with life and
moisture. Now when places become drier the springs
necessarily give out, and when this happens the rivers first
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 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.
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 not observed, and
before their course can be recorded from beginning to end
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suppose that it suffices for a long time. We have seen that some
say that the size of the subterranean cavities is what makes
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 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 it tends to make the moisture of those places
almost everlasting. But as time goes on places of the latter type
dry up more, while those of the former, moist type, 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. 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 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 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 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 is now all gone. Again the
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Book II
1
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, for they want earth and sea to have foundations and
roots of their own. Presumably they 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.
Others, 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, while
the remainder forms the sea. So the sea is being dried up and is
growing less, and will end by being some day entirely dried up.
Others 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 say that the saltness is due to the earth.
Just as water strained through ashes becomes 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 has springs. (By a
spring, as we have explained above, we must not understand a
source from which waters are ladled as it were from a vessel,
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1071
Euxine and Maeotis than into the whole Mediterranean with its
much larger basin), and to their own shallowness. For we find
the sea getting 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 Heracles the sea is shallow owing to the
mud, but calm, for it lies in a hollow.) We see, then, that just as
single rivers flow from mountains, so it is 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. They believed
that 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.
2
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 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
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
1072
the rest of the elements are seen to lie. So 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 continuous process of becoming from day to day.
It was this 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, 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 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 both on the common view 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 returns to the earth. This, as we have said before, is
the regular course of nature.
Hence all my predecessors who supposed that the sun was
nourished by moisture are absurdly mistaken. Some go on to
say that the solstices are due to this, the reason 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 the only food for fire is
moisture. 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
1073
weight of the salt water 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
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 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 herest remains
for the reason we have explained. It is quite 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 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 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 about rivers and the sea is
impossible. There it is said that the earth is pierced by
intercommunicating channels and that the original head and
source of all waters is what is called Tartarus a mass of water
1075
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
earths centre and on that; for it has no fixed seat but is always
oscillating about the centre. 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
issued; for instance, if they started from the other side of the
earths 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 the kind of
earth the rivers happened to flow through.
But on this theory rivers do not always flow in the same 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, which is
impossible. Again, where is the water that is generated and
what goes up again as vapour to come from? For this must all of
it simply be ignored, 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 swallowed
up it comes to the surface again. And those rivers are large
which flow for a long distance through a lowying country, for by
their situation and length they cut off the course of many
others and swallow them up. 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 of them both. All of which is plainly impossible on the
theory, and the more so as it derives the sea from Tartarus.
1076
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, and to show that
the sea is the end rather than the source 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.
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 that the sea is
diminishing and will disappear in the end reminds us of Aesops
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 tale is appropriate 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 persist for ever. They must either deny that the water
raised by the sun will return at all, or, if it does, they 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 beforehand. So the sea will never dry
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up: for before that can happen the water that has gone up
beforehand will return to it: for if you say that this happens
once you must admit its recurrence. If you stop the suns 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 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. The
phenomenon is due to temporary excess of rain and not to any
process of becoming in which the universe or its parts are
involved. Some day the 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.
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 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, if it is maintained that an admixture of earth 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 should not be salt too. How
can the admixture of this earth have such a striking effect in a
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great quantity of 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.
It is equally absurd to suppose that anything has been
explained by calling the sea the sweat of the earth, like
Empedicles. Metaphors are poetical and so that expression 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 becomes salt sweat
whether it is merely by the departure of some element in it
which is sweetest, or by the admixture 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 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 the stuff out of the body), then no doubt the admixture
of something earthy with the water is what makes the sea 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 can the
drying and warming of the earth cause the secretion 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, why does not the earth sweat now when it
happens to be in process of drying? If it did so then, it ought to
do so now. But it does not: on the contrary, when it is dry it
graws moist, but when it is moist it does not secrete anything at
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all. How then was it possible for the earth at the beginning
when it was moist to sweat as it grew dry? Indeed, the theory
that maintains that most of the moisture departed and was
drawn up 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.
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 water and fire? All of these
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. They differ in that some of them change more rapidly or
more slowly than others; and they all are involved in a process
of perishing and becoming which yet affects them all in a
regular course.
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 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 everything that is digested is condensed), and also
sweat; in these then is excreted (along with other matter) an
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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 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 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 and all fluids that evaporate and condense
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 considered on
another more suitable occasion.
For the present let us say this. The sea is there and 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. This process prevents the sea, as it does rivers,
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 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 their situations.
There is more evidence to prove that saltness is due to the
admixture of some substance, besides that which we have
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put the ashes into water and boil it off. When a little water is
left and has cooled it gives a quantity of salt.
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 be due to the fire that
is or was 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 becomes 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. These differences are explained by a knowledge of
the particular mixtures that determine different savours. But
these have been explained in another treatise.
We have now given an account of waters and the sea, why they
persist, how they change, what their nature is, and have
explained most of their natural operations and affections.
4
Let us proceed to the theory of winds. Its basis is a distinction
we have already made. 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 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
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rain the earth is being dried by its 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 makes vapour form and condense into water.
Water also 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.
The cause of the predominance of winds from the north and
from the south is the same. (Most winds, as a matter of fact, are
north winds or south winds.) 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 moist evaporation, and when it recedes to the
opposite side there are storms and rain. So summer and winter
are due to the suns motion to and from the solstices, and water
ascends and falls again for the same reason. Now since 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, 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.)
The course of winds is oblique: for though the evaporation rises
straight up from the earth, they blow round it because all the
surrounding air follows the motion of the heavens. Hence the
question might be asked whether winds originate from above or
from below. The motion comes from above: before we feel the
wind blowing the air betrays its presence if there are clouds or a
1087
mist, for their motion shows that the wind has begun to blow
before it has actually reached us; and this implies that the
source 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 determines the processes
that are at a distance from the earth, and the motion from
below is vertical and every cause is more active where it is
nearest to the effect; but in its generation and origin wind
plainly derives from the earth.
The facts bear out the view that winds are formed by the
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; as they proceed and
leave their source at a distance they gather strength. Thus the
winter in the north is windless 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
wind and wind rises after rain, the prevalence of north and
south winds and also why wind moves in the way it does.
5
The sun both checks the formation of winds and stimulates it.
When the evaporation is small in amount and faint the sun
wastes it and dissipates by its greater heat the lesser heat
contained in the evaporation. It also dries up the earth, the
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is thrown to the south: and the regions below the Bear are
uninhabitable because of the cold.
(The Crown, too, moves over this region: for it is in the zenith
when it is on our meridian.)
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 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 anywhere. The records of journeys by sea
and land bear this 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 accurate
statement. Yet we know the whole breadth of the region we
dwell in up to the uninhabited parts: in one direction no one
lives because of the cold, in the other because of the heat.
But it is the sea which divides as it seems the parts beyond
India from those beyond the Pillars of Heracles and prevents the
earth from being inhabited all round.
Now since there must be a region bearing the same relation 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. This wind cannot
reach us since our own north wind is like a land breeze and
does not even reach the limits of the region we live in. The
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6
Let us now explain the position of the winds, their oppositions,
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 questions. 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 the zone in which we
live; for that can be divided in the same way. Let us also begin
by laying down that those things are locally contrary which are
locally most distant from one another, just as things specifically
most remote from one another are specific contraries. Now
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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 the
sun shines on the east longer, whereas it leaves the west sooner
and reaches it later.
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 simultaneously: for instance
the winds from Z and from D. 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.
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 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, 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 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.
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So much for the winds, their origin and nature and the
properties common to them all or peculiar to each.
7
We must go on to discuss earthquakes next, for their cause is
akin to our last subject.
The theories that have been put forward up to the present date
are three, and their authors three men, Anaxagoras of
Clazomenae, and before him Anaximenes of Miletus, and later
Democritus of Abdera.
Anaxagoras says that the ether, which naturally moves
upwards, is caught in hollows below the earth and so shakes it,
for though the earth is really all of it equally porous, its surface
is clogged up by rain. This implies that part of the whole sphere
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. 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, 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.
1097
Democritus 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 admit 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 water as it changes its
place causes the earthquake.
Anaximenes 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 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 frequently
occur in places which are not excessively subject to drought or
rain, as they ought to be on the theory? Besides, 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 this is impossible the theory
must be impossible too.
8
We have already shown that wet and dry must both give rise to
an evaporation: earthquakes are a necessary consequence of
this fact. The earth is essentially dry, but 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
1098
we must find 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 that which naturally
moves farthest. Wind satisfies these conditions in the highest
degree (fire only becomes flame 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 continuous
body in the direction in which it first started, and either all of it
flows inwards or all outwards, most earthquakes 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 blowing simultaneously. If one of
these enters the earth we get an 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 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 flow; especially towards dawn, for the winds, as a rule,
begin to blow then, and 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 of
currents or the earth spongy and cavernous: so they occur near
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vanished from the air but is dying away, the wind which causes
the earthquake before the eclipse, turns off into the earth, and
calm ensues. For there often are winds 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 the eclipse is going to take place. So the influence
which restrained and quieted the air weakens and the air
moves again and a wind rises, and does so later, the later the
eclipse.
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 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 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 which 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, are due to the wind; sometimes they
portend earthquakes but sometimes they have been 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
1103
thinner and passes through things 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 makes various noises, so that the earth sometimes
seems to bellow as the portentmongers 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 it drives the water along the
surface or up from below: just as winds are the causes of waves
and not waves of winds. 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 upsetting). 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 due to
the presence of contrary winds. It occurs when the wind 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 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. There a south wind
was blowing, but outside a north wind; then there was a calm
and the wind entered 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, 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 are not local. Such phenomena are local when
1104
1105
9
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, there are two kinds of exhalation, moist and
dry, and the atmosphere contains them both potentially. It, as
we have said before, condenses into cloud, and the density of
the clouds is highest at their upper limit. (For they must be
denser and colder on the side where the heat escapes to the
upper region and leaves them. This explains why hurricanes
and thunderbolts and all 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 up region.
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 clouds, and the sound
of this collision is what we call thunder. 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 flame in a body. So in the clouds,
the exhalation is projected and its impact on dense clouds
causes thunder: the variety of the sound is due to the
1106
1107
1108
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 in small and scattered quantities and 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. The fact that it issues in body
explains its violence: it is due to the rapidity of the secretion.
Now when this 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 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 cloud
1109
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
secreted, collides with another 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 in such cases that the
first part of the moving body is deflected because of the
resistance due either to the narrowness 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 resistance. 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. 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 the cloud 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 where the heat escapes. This
phenomenon is called a whirlwind when it is colourless; and it
is 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 wind, and
wind is a dry and warm evaporation. Now 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
hurricane to escape from its cloud: it is due to the resistance
1110
1111
2
Let us now explain the nature and cause of halo, rainbow, mock
suns, and rods, since the same account applies to them all.
We must first describe the phenomena and the circumstances
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 sunset.
The rainbow never forms a full circle, nor any segment greater
than a semicircle. At sunset and sunrise the circle is smallest
1112
and the segment largest: as the sun rises higher the circle is
larger and the segment smaller. After the autumn 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. Each of them is three-coloured; the
colours are the same in both 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
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.
Mock suns and rods are always seen by the side of the sun, not
above or below it nor in the opposite quarter of the sky. 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 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 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
1113
colours are not so easy to see in the dark 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, 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 the fact that 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 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 be reflected in them and figure cannot be, it
remains that colour alone should be reflected. The colour of a
bright 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 appearance of
another colour.
However, we must accept the account we have given of these
things in the theory of sensation, and take some 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.
1114
1115
equal, being in equal triangles. And they are all in one plane,
being all at right angles to AEB and meeting at a single point E.
So if you draw the line it will be a circle and E its centre. Now B
is the sun, A the eye, and the circumference passing through the
points GZD the cloud from which the line of sight is reflected to
the sun.
The mirrors must be thought of as contiguous: each of 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. The band of cloud next to
it is black, its colour being intensified by contrast with the
brightness of the halo. The halo is formed rather near the earth
because that is calmer: for where there is wind it is clear that
no halo can maintain its position.
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 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 air and
water among others. Air must be condensed if it is to act as a
mirror, though it often gives a reflection even uncondensed
1116
when the sight is weak. Such was the case of a man whose sight
was faint and indistinct. He always 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. So promontories in the sea loom when there
is a south-east wind, and everything seems bigger, and in a
mist, too, 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
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
that a mirror of this kind renders the colour of an object only,
but not its shape. 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 the
reflection must render the colour of the object without its
shape. Since each of the mirrors is so small as to be invisible
and what we see is the continuous magnitude made up of them
all, the reflection necessarily gives us a continuous magnitude
made up of one colour; each of the mirrors contributing the
same colour to the whole. We may deduce that since these
conditions are realizable there will 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 the
halo is round it. They are both reflections, but the rainbow is
distinguished by the variety of its colours. The reflection in the
1117
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. We 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 red (the reflection being from small particles of
water), but not in the case of the halo. The other colours shall be
explained 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 rainbow. Actually
no complete or circular halo presents this colour, only small and
fragmentary appearances called rods. But if a haze due to
water or any other dark substance formed there we should have
had, as we maintain, a complete rainbow like that which we do
find lamps. A rainbow appears round these in winter, generally
with southerly winds. Persons whose eyes are moist see 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 a mirror, 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 and the mirror
too dark, red is absent. The rainbow that is seen when oars are
raised out of the sea involves the same relative positions as that
in the sky, 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, too, if a man
sprinkles fine drops in a room turned to the sun so that the sun
1118
5
The rainbow can never be a circle nor a segment of a circle
greater than a semicircle. The consideration of the diagram will
prove this and the other properties of the rainbow. (See
diagram.)
Let A be a hemisphere resting on the circle of the horizon, let its
centre be K and let H be another point 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, the lines from
K will fall on the circumference of a circle. If the reflection takes
place when 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 semi-circle; if the luminous body is above the horizon it
will always be less than a semicircle, and it will be smallest
1121
1122
1123
semicircle. For YXM was a semicircle and it has now been cut
off by the horizon AG. So part of it, YM, will be invisible when
the sun has risen above the horizon, and the segment visible
will be smallest when the sun is on the meridian; for the higher
H 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 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 greater is the invisible arc. Consequently, in
the days 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 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 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 to the
sun. Rods are seen when sight reaches the sun under
circumstances like those which we described, when there are
clouds near the sun and sight is reflected from some liquid
surface to the cloud. Here the clouds themselves are colourless
1124
when you look at them directly, but in the 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 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
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 unevenness of the mirror as
regards colour, not form. The mock sun, on the 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 in a body and is thrown on the sun all
together by the mist, which is dense and watery though not yet
quite water, causes the suns true colour to appear just as it
does when the reflection is from the dense, smooth surface of
copper. So the suns colour being white, the mock sun is white
too. This, too, is the reason why the mock sun is a surer sign of
rain than the rods; it indicates, 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, about sunset and
sunrise, not above the sun nor below it, but 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
1125
1126
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:
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) are 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 must take
up each kind of them and discuss it separately.
Book IV
1
We have explained that the qualities that constitute the
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 ourselves of this by
looking at instances. In every case 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
1127
and when present together in the same body are the subjects of
that determination and of the other affections enumerated. The
account we give of the qualities when we define their character
shows this too. Hot and cold we describe as active, for
congregating is essentially 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 be easy to determine or
difficult to determine. So it is clear that some of the qualities
are active and some passive.
Next we must describe the operations of the active qualities and
the forms taken by the passive. First of all, true becoming, that
is, natural change, is always the work of these powers and so is
the corresponding natural destruction; 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, which is the passive qualities
we have 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 or otherwise
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 dry.
Putrescence is the end of all these things, that is of all natural
objects, except such as are destroyed by violence: you can burn,
for instance, flesh, bone, or anything 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 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
1128
2
We must now describe the next kinds of processes which 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. Inconcoction is due to cold and its species are
rawness, imperfect boiling, imperfect broiling. (We must
recognize that the things are not 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 enumerated as being not what those words denote
but something 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
are the proper matter of any given object. 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
degrees to its fulfilment. Baths, for instance, and other things of
the kind contribute to the digestion of food, but the primary
cause is the proper heat of the body. In some cases of
concoction the end of the process is the nature 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, or however else it is being heated. This state is the
end, for when it has been reached the thing has some use and
1130
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 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
1131
1133
eaten, some drunk, and some are intended for other uses; for
instance dyes, too, are said to be boiled.
All those things then admit of boiling which can grow 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. Oil by itself is
affected in none of these ways, and therefore cannot be said to
admit of boiling. Such then is the pfcies of concoction known
as boiling, and the process is the same in an artificial and in a
natural instrument, for the cause will be the same in every case.
Imperfect boiling is the form of inconcoction opposed to boiling.
Now the opposite of boiling properly so called is an
inconcoction of the undetermined matter in a body due to lack
of heat in the surrounding liquid. (Lack of heat implies, as we
have pointed out, the presence of cold.) The motion which
causes imperfect boiling is different from that which causes
boiling, for the heat which operates the concoction is driven
out. The lack of heat is due either to the amount of cold in the
liquid or to the quantity of moisture in the object undergoing
the process of boiling. Where either of these conditions is
realized the heat in the surrounding liquid is too great to have
no effect at all, but too small to carry out the process of
concocting uniformly and thoroughly. Hence things are harder
when they are imperfectly boiled 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.
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 the fire, the thing will
have been broiled and not boiled when the process has been
1134
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
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 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, is found in nature too. The affections
produced are similar though they lack 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 boiling. And it is not true that
animals are generated in the concoction of food, as some say.
Really they are generated 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.
We have seen that the opposite of boiling is imperfect boiling:
now there is something correspondingly opposed to 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 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 undergoing the process. For then
we should get too much heat for no effect to be produced, but
too little for concoction to take place.
We have now explained concoction and inconcoction, ripening
and rawness, boiling and broiling, and their opposites.
1135
4
We must now describe the forms taken by the passive qualities
the moist and the dry. The elements of bodies, that is, the
passive ones, are the moist and the dry; the bodies themselves
are compounded of them and whichever predominates
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 determined
with difficulty, their relation to one another is like that of a dish
and its condiments. The moist is what makes the dry
determinable, and each serves as a sort of glue to the other as
Empedocles said in his poem on Nature, 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, and therefore all determinate bodies in
our world involve earth and 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
which must primarily belong to a determined thing, for
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 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.
1136
Those things are absolutely hard and soft which satisfy the
definition absolutely, and those things 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 hard and that which falls short of it soft.
5
A body determined by its own boundary 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 composite and
determined bodies must involve concretion. Concretion
therefore must be discussed.
Now there are two causes besides 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 causes.
But since concretion is a form of drying let us speak of the latter
first.
As we have explained, the agent operates by means of two
qualities and the patient is acted on in virtue of two qualities:
action takes place by means of heat or cold, and the quality is
produced either by the presence or by the absence of heat or
1137
1138
6
Liquefaction is, first, condensation into water; second, the
melting of a solidified body. The first, condensation, is due to
the cooling of vapour: what melting is will 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 at all are
dissolved by their opposites. Bodies 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, but really it is
not the water but 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 solidifies 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 solidify; for
thickening occurs when the moisture goes off and the dry
matter comes together, but water is the only liquid that does
not thicken. 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 drawing off the moisture,
and as the moisture goes off in vapour the dry matter thickens
and collects. Cold acts by driving out the heat, which is
accompanied by the moisture as this goes off in vapour with it.
Bodies that are soft but not liquid do not thicken but solidify
when the moisture leaves them, e.g. potters clay in process of
1139
baking: but those mixed bodies that are liquid thicken besides
solidifying, like milk. Those bodies which have first been
thickened or hardened by cold often begin by becoming moist:
thus potters clay at first in the process of baking steams and
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 mud. But
those which solidify by refrigeration, where all the moisture has
gone off in vapour with the heat, 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 bottom 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 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, 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. and earth, too
Of the bodies which are solidified by dry heat some are
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, cannot be dissolved. Natron and salt are soluble by
liquid, but not all liquid but only such as is cold. Hence water
and any of its varieties melt them, but oil does not. For the
opposite of the dry-hot is the cold-moist and what the one
1140
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 potters clay must contain more earth.
The nature of oil presents the greatest problem. If water
preponderated in it, cold ought to solidify it; if earth
preponderated, then fire ought to do so. 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 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 is due to the change
of 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 contains air. Its
glutinous nature prevents it from giving off vapour and so fire
does not dry it or boil it off.
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 and thickens by
boiling I mean, must. All bodies of this kind lose their water as
they That it is their water may be seen from the fact that the
vapour from them condenses into water when collected. So
wherever some sediment is left this is of the nature of earth.
1141
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 dissolving what was
solidified by fire alone, fire what was solidified by cold alone.
Consequently, if any things 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 to evaporate, the cold so compacts these bodies
together again as to leave no entrance even for moisture.
Therefore heat does not dissolve them (for it only dissolves
those bodies that are solidified by cold alone), nor does water
(for it does not dissolve what cold solidifies, but only what is
solidified by dry heat). But iron is melted by heat and solidified
by cold. 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
black ebony the air has escaped and so earth preponderates in
it.) Pottery consists of earth alone because it solidified gradually
in the process of drying. 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.
8
All this makes it clear that bodies are formed by heat 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
1143
9
Those bodies admit of softening which are not (like ice) 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 them be incongruous (as in
the case of pottery). 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.
Both of bodies that can melt and of bodies that cannot, some 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
1145
1146
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 comminuted but not broken,
while pottery may either be comminuted 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 with one another are comminuible
(for the limit to their subdivision 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 is
the sinking of a part of the surface of a thing in response to
pressure or a blow, in general to contact. Such bodies are either
soft, like wax, where part of the surface is depressed while the
rest remains, or hard, like copper. Non-impressible bodies are
either hard, like pottery (its 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
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, 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, their surface sinking in without
being broken and without the parts interchanging position as
happens in the case of water. (We speak of pressure when there
is movement and the motor remains in contact with the thing
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
10
Homogeneous bodies differ to touch by these affections and
differences, as we have said. They also differ in respect of their
smell, taste, and colour.
By homogeneous bodies I mean, for instance, metals, gold,
copper, silver, tin, iron, stone, and everything else of this kind
and the bodies that are extracted from them; 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, and the rest like them.
The homogeneous bodies, it is true, are constituted by a
different cause, but the matter of which they are composed 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 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,
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 mixture either
of earth and water, like milk, or of earth and air, like wood, 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 evaporation and it also thickens; for instance new
wine does. The reason is that the word wine is ambiguous and
different wines behave in different ways. New wine is more
1152
1154
11
We must investigate in the light of the results we have arrived
at what solid or liquid bodies are hot and what cold.
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 passive) and earth
and water are the elements that primarily embody them, and
they are characterized by cold. Consequently 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 burnt contains more or less heat. This
explains the generation of animals in putrefying bodies: the
putrefying body contains the heat which destroyed its proper
heat.
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, are products of
putrefaction. Thus blood, semen, marrow, figjuice, and all things
of the kinds are hot as long as they are 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
1155
and water. Hence 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, 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 of heat and most
burning after exposure to fire: thus water is more burning than
smoke 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 to which
class each of those bodies belongs. The homogeneous 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, 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 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 flutes: for
1156
1158
Book I
1
Holding as we do that, while knowledge of any kind is 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, to our understanding of Nature, for
the soul is in some sense the principle of animal life. Our aim is
to grasp and understand, first its essential nature, and secondly
its properties; of these some are taught to be affections proper
to the soul itself, while others are considered to attach to the
animal owing to the presence within it of soul.
To attain any assured knowledge about the soul is one 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 (as we are endeavouring to ascertain there is for derived
properties the single method of demonstration); 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
1159
1160
2
For our study of soul it is necessary, while formulating 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.
1163
1164
1165
formed out of all his elements, each of them also being soul; his
words are:
For tis by Earth we see Earth, by Water Water,
By Ether Ether divine, by Fire destructive Fire,
By Love Love, and Hate by cruel Hate.
In the same way Plato in the Timaeus fashions 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 it goes
undeviatingly from one point to another), opinion the number
of the plane, sensation the number of the solid; the numbers
are by him expressly identified with the Forms themselves or
principles, and are formed out of the elements; now things are
apprehended either by mind or science or 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 opinions
differ. The difference is greatest between those who regard
them as corporeal and those who regard them as 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
1166
1167
1168
3
We must begin our examination with movement; for doubtless,
not only is it false that the essence of soul is correctly 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 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, 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
1169
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 tare
not 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, alteration,
diminution, growth; consequently if the soul is moved, it must
be moved with one or several or all of these species of
movement. Now if its movement is not incidental, there must
be a movement natural to it, and, 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 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 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 movement; for the terminus
ad quem of a things natural movement is the place of its
natural rest, and similarly the terminus ad quem 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
1170
1171
1172
think with any one indifferently of its parts? In this case, the
part 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). If contact of any part whatsoever of itself with
the object is all that is required, why need mind move in a
circle, or indeed possess magnitude at all? On the other hand, if
contact 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? We must identify the circle referred to with mind; for it is
mind whose movement is thinking, 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.
If the circular movement is eternal, there must be something
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 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 its starting-point. Definitions, too,
are closed groups of terms.
1173
1174
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. 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 the good states of
the body) a harmony than to predicate it of the soul. The
absurdity becomes most apparent when we try to attribute the
active and passive affections of the soul to a harmony; the
necessary readjustment of 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 these senses
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
5
The result is, as we have said, that this view, while on the one
side identical with that of those who maintain that soul is a
subtle kind of body, is on the other entangled in the absurdity
peculiar to Democritus way of describing the manner in which
movement is originated by soul. 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 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 units, or, quite simply, of 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 absurdities. 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 be made to start from this as the account of
soul and explain from it the affections and actions of the soul,
e.g. reasoning, sensation, pleasure, pain, &c. For, to repeat what
we have said earlier, movement and number do not facilitate
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 which is
most originative of movement because it moves itself, another
group to be the subtlest and most nearly incorporeal of all kinds
of body. We have now sufficiently set forth the difficulties and
inconsistencies to which these theories are exposed. It remains
1180
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1182
1183
1185
Book II
1
Let the foregoing suffice as our account of the views 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,
1186
1187
1188
2
Since what is clear or logically more evident emerges from 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 now do the
mere fact; it must include and exhibit the ground also. At
1189
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1191
3
Of the psychic powers above enumerated some kinds of living
things, as we have said, possess all, some less than all, others
one only. Those we have mentioned are the nutritive, 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 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 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 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 clear up
these points, but at present it may be enough to say that all
animals that possess the sense of touch have also appetition.
1193
1194
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 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 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 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, 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 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 production of another
like itself, an animal producing an animal, a plant a plant, in
1195
1196
here recall the two senses of 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 quantitative changes which constitute
growth and decay; nothing grows or decays naturally 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 tendency of
earth to travel downwards, and the upward branching 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 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, 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 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
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5
Having made these distinctions let us now speak of sensation in
the widest sense. Sensation depends, as we have said, on a
process of movement or affection from without, for it is held to
be some sort of change of quality. Now some thinkers assert
that like is affected only by like; in what sense this is possible
and in what sense impossible, we have explained in our general
discussion of acting and being acted upon.
Here arises a problem: why do we not perceive the senses
themselves 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 fire, earth,
and all the other elements, which are the direct or indirect
objects is so of sense? It is clear that what is sensitive is 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.
In reply we must recall that we use the word perceive in two
ways, for we say (a) that what has the power to 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.
1200
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 moved or affected, and (ii) being active, for
movement is a kind of activity an imperfect kind, as has
elsewhere been explained. 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, what
acts and what is acted upon are like, in another unlike, i.e. prior
to and during the change the two factors are unlike, after it like.
But we must now distinguish not only between 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 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. Both the former are potential knowers, who realize
their respective potentialities, the one (a) by change of quality,
i.e. repeated transitions from one state to its opposite under
instruction, the other (b) by the transition from the inactive
possession of sense or grammar to their active exercise. The two
kinds of transition are distinct.
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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
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7
The object of sight is the visible, and what is visible is (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 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
transparent; that power constitutes its very nature. That is why
it is not visible except with the help of light; it 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 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.
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8
Now let us, to begin with, make certain distinctions about
sound and hearing.
Sound may mean either of two things (a) actual, and (b)
potential, sound. There are certain things which, as we say,
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 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.
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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 by impinging upon any
surface which is not smooth. When 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, and because it is in air,
the air inside is moved concurrently with the air outside. Hence
animals do not hear 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 can sound has not air everywhere in it. Air in
itself is, owing to its friability, quite soundless; only when its
dissipation is prevented is its movement sound. The air in the
ear is built into a chamber just to prevent this dissipating
movement, in order that the animal may accurately apprehend
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 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.
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movement of air. 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 else, (b) across a space, (c) filled with air; hence 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 animals existence (hence it is found more
widely distributed), while articulate speech is a luxury
subserving its possessors well-being; similarly in the former
case Nature employs the breath 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 possessors well-being. Why its former use is
indispensable must be discussed elsewhere.
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 primarily requires
the air drawn in by respiration is not only this but the region
surrounding the heart. That is why when animals breathe 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 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 act of imagination, for voice is
a sound with a meaning, and is not merely the result of any
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9
Smell and its object are much less easy to determine 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 to that of many species of
animals; men have a poor sense of smell and our apprehension
of its proper objects is inseparably 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 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 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
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10
What can be tasted is always something that can be touched,
and just for that reason it cannot be perceived through an
interposed foreign body, for touch means the absence of any
intervening body. Further, the flavoured and tasteable 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. 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) capable of dissolving along with itself
the tongue. Taste 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 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
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11
Whatever can be said of what is tangible, can be said of 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 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, 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 acute and
grave but loud and soft, smooth and rough, &c.; there are
similar contrasts in the field of colour. Nevertheless 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), 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 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 or
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12
The following results applying to any and every sense 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 without the iron or
gold; we say that what produces the impression is a signet of
bronze or gold, but its particular 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.
(B) By an organ of sense is meant that in which ultimately such
a power is seated.
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 magnitude; what they
are is a certain ratio or power in 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 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
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Book III
1
That there is no sixth sense in addition to the five enumerated
sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch may be established 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
tangible are perceived by us through touch); and if absence of a
sense necessarily involves absence of a sense-organ; and if (1)
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 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 air can transmit colour, both
being transparent, then the possessor of either alone will be
1224
not as Cleons son but as white, and the white thing which we
really perceive happens to be Cleons 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 described.
The senses perceive each others special objects incidentally;
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 object, 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. Is it to
prevent a failure to apprehend the common sensibles, e.g.
movement, magnitude, and number, which go along with the
special sensibles? Had we no sense but sight, and that sense 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
sensibles are given in the objects of more than one sense
reveals their distinction from each and all of the special
sensibles.
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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 (1) there will be two senses both percipient
of the same sensible object, or (2) the sense must be percipient
of itself. Further, 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 see
that which sees, that which sees originally must be coloured. It
is clear therefore that to perceive by 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 senseorgan is capable of receiving the sensible object without its
matter. That is why even when the sensible objects are gone the
sensings and imaginings continue to exist in the sense-organs.
The activity of the sensible object and that of the percipient
sense is one and the same activity, and yet the distinction
between their being remains. Take as illustration 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 which can
sound is sounding, then the actual hearing and the actual
sound are merged in one (these one might call respectively
hearkening and sounding).
1227
If it is true that the movement, both the acting and the being
acted upon, is to be found in that which is acted upon, 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 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-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 sensitive 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 seeing, but the actuality of colour has no name:
the actuality of the faculty of taste is called tasting, but the
actuality of flavour 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 being, 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
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 potentialities 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, and if the voice and the
hearing of it are in one sense one and the same, and if concord
always implies a ratio, hearing as well as what is heard must be
1228
a ratio. That is why the excess of either 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 (1) pleasant when the
sensible extremes such as acid or sweet or salt being pure and
unmixed are brought into the proper ratio; then they are
pleasant: and in general what is blended is more pleasant 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 and discriminates
the differences which exist within that group; e.g. sight
discriminates white and black, taste sweet 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 different? It must be by sense; for what is
before us is sensible objects. (Hence it is also obvious that the
flesh cannot be the ultimate sense-organ: if it were, the
discriminating power could not do its work without immediate
contact with the object.)
Therefore (1) discrimination between white and sweet cannot
be effected by two agencies which remain separate; both the
qualities discriminated must be present to something 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 that two things are different
must be one; for sweet is different from white. Therefore what
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3
There are two distinctive peculiarities by reference to which we
characterize the soul (1) 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 discriminates and is cognizant
of something which is. Indeed the ancients go so far as to
identify thinking and perceiving; e.g. Empedocles says For tis in
respect of what is present that mans wit is increased, and
again Whence it befalls them from time to time to think
diverse thoughts, and Homers phrase For suchlike is mans
mind 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. Yet they ought at the same time to have accounted
for error also; for it is more intimately connected with animal
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1235
4
Turning now to the part of the soul with which the soul knows
and thinks (whether this is separable from the others in
definition only, or spatially as well) we have to inquire (1) 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 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, to dominate, that is, to know, must
be pure from all admixture; for the co-presence of what is alien
to its nature is a hindrance and a block: it follows 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: 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,
though (1) this description holds only of the intellective soul,
and (2) even this is the forms only potentially, not actually.
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1238
5
Since in every class of things, as in nature as a whole, we find
two factors involved, (1) a matter which is potentially all the
particulars included in the class, (2) 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 is what it is what it is
by 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 to the matter
which it forms).
Actual knowledge is identical with its object: in the individual,
potential knowledge is in time prior to actual knowledge, but in
the universe as a whole it is not prior even in time. 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
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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 they afterwards by Loves power were combined,
so here too objects of thought which were given separate are
combined, e.g. incommensurate 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 synthesis; 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
assertion that he was or will he white. In each and every case
that 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 was apprehending 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
1240
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 a simple
time and by a simple act of the soul.)
But that which mind thinks and the time in which it 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 continuum whether temporal
or spatial.
Points and similar instances of things that divide, themselves
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.
But if there is anything that has no contrary, then it knows itself
and is actually and possesses independent existence.
Assertion is the saying of something concerning 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 something, but, just as while
the seeing of the special object of sight can never be in error, the
belief that the white object seen is a man may be mistaken, so
too in the case of objects which are without matter.
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7
Actual knowledge is identical with its object: potential
knowledge in the individual is in time prior to actual knowledge
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 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, an activity of what is imperfect,
activity in the unqualified sense, i.e. that of what has been
perfected, is different from movement.
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 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 senseperception; but their being is different.
To the thinking soul images serve as if they were contents of
perception (and when it asserts or denies them to 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 from hot I
have explained before and must now describe again as follows:
That with which it does so is a sort of unity, but in the way just
mentioned, i.e. as a connecting term. And the two faculties it
connects, being one by analogy and numerically, are each to
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8
Let us now summarize our results about soul, and repeat that
the soul is in a way all existing things; for existing things are
either sensible or thinkable, and knowledge is in 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 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. 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 as the hand
is a tool of tools, 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 and affections of sensible
things. Hence (1) no one can learn or understand anything in
the absence of sense, and (when the mind is actively aware of
anything it is necessarily aware of it along with an image; for
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9
The soul of animals is characterized by two faculties, (a) 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 spatially or in
definition? Or is it the soul as a whole? If it is a part, is that part
different from those usually distinguished or already mentioned
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: it is not enough to distinguish, with some thinkers, the
calculative, the passionate, and the desiderative, or with others
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: (1) the nutritive, which belongs both to
plants and to all animals, and (2) the sensitive, which cannot
easily be classed as either irrational or rational; further (3) 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
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10
These two at all events appear to be sources of movement:
appetite and mind (if one may venture to regard imagination as
a kind of thinking; for many men follow their imaginations
contrary to knowledge, and in all animals other than man there
is no thinking or calculation but only imagination).
1247
are more different from one another than the faculties of desire
and passion.
Since appetites run counter to one another, which happens
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 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, (1) 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 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 movement),
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 of it falls within
the province of the functions common to body and soul. 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 e.g. in a ball and socket joint;
for there the convex and the concave sides are respectively an
1249
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 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 (1) calculative or (2) sensitive. In the latter
an animals, and not only man, partake.
11
We must consider also in the case of imperfect animals, sc.
those which have no sense but touch, what it is that in 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?
Sensitive imagination, as we have said, is found in all animals,
deliberative imagination only in those that are calculative: 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.
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
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12
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 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 (1) to those whose body is
uncompounded or (2) to those which are incapable of taking in
the forms without their matter.
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All the other senses subserve well-being and for that very
reason belong not to any and every kind 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 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 impelled without impelling, while the medium (or media,
for there are many) is both so is it also in the case of
alteration, except that the agent produces produces it without
the patients changing its place. Thus if an object is dipped into
wax, 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 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 possesses unity; hence it is
that it in turn sets the sight in motion, just as if the impression
on the wax were transmitted as far as the wax extends.
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 without touch it is
1253
impossible to have any other sense; for every body that has soul
in it must, as we have said, be capable of touch. All the other
elements with the exception of earth can constitute organs of
sense, but all of them bring about perception only through
something else, viz. through the media. Touch takes place by
direct contact 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 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 consist of earth. So too
plants, because they consist of 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 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 indispensably 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 intensity in colour, sound, and smell,
destroys not the 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);
flavour also destroys only in so far as it is at the same time
tangible. But excess of intensity in tangible qualities, e.g. heat,
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1
Having now definitely considered the soul, by itself, and 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 may, in fact, be said to belong to all animals. 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. waking and sleeping, youth and
old age, inhalation and exhalation, life and death. We must
endeavour to arrive at a scientific conception of these,
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2
Of the distinctive potency of each of the faculties of sense
enough has been said already.
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3
Of the sensibles corresponding to each sensory organ, viz.
colour, sound, odour, savour, touch, we have treated in On the
Soul in general terms, having there determined what their
function is, and what is implied in their becoming actualized 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. either as actual or as potential. We have in On the Soul
explained in what sense the colour, or sound, regarded as
actualized [for sensation] is the same as, and in 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 already in On the Soul 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 medium 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 or less degree. As the
bodies in which it subsists must have some extreme bounding
surface, so too must this. Here, 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 bodies, its bounding extreme
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4
We have now explained what colour is, and the reason why
there are many colours; while before, in our work On the Soul,
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 in
different things. Savours, as a class, display their nature more
clearly to us than Odours, the cause of which is that the
olfactory sense of man is inferior in acuteness to that of the
lower animals, and is, when compared with our other senses,
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5
Our conception of the nature of Odours must be analogous to
that of Savours; inasmuch as the Sapid Dry effects in air and
water alike, but in a different province of sense, precisely what
the Dry effects in the Moist of water only. We customarily
predicate Translucency of both air and water in common; 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 Dryness.
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, 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.
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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, 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 equally certain what the organ is whereby they so
perceive. This question, of the organ whereby they perceive
odour, may well cause a difficulty, if we assume that smelling
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,
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 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 straightway [without intermission] from the actual
moment 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
lower animals shows repugnance to the odour of things which
are essentially ill-smelling, unless one of the latter is positively
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6
One might ask: if every body is infinitely divisible, are its
sensible qualities Colour, Savour, Odour, Sound, Weight, Cold
or Heat, [Heaviness or] Lightness, Hardness or Softness also
infinitely divisible? Or, is this impossible?
[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
magnitude. For it is impossible, e.g. to see a thing which is white
but not of a certain magnitude.
Since if it were not so, [if its sensible qualities were not divisible,
pari passu with body], we might conceive a body existing but
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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 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
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
and Odour, for these, like [their media] Air and Water, are
continuous, but the movement 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 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 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
[the odour or sound proper] are not bodies, but an affection or
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7
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
to discern two objects coinstantaneously in the same 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 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 nete by itself alone, than [when sounded with the
hypate] 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
perception of either will ensue; they will alike efface one
anothers 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
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Contraries, e.g. Sweet and Bitter, come under one and the same
sense-faculty, we must conclude that it is impossible to discern
them coinstantaneously. It is likewise clearly impossible so to
discern such homogeneous sensibles as are not [indeed]
Contrary, [but are 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. Nor can one discern the components in
compounds coinstantaneously (for these are 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
different provinces of sense (e.g. I call Sweet and White coordinates 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 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
coinstantaneous perception of the latter be impossible, that of
the former is a fortiori impossible.
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]
imperceptible. Is this true or not? One might perhaps, following
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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
perceptions of sight and hearing] escape observation. But this
can scarcely be true, nor is it conceivable that any portion of
time should be [absolutely] imperceptible, or that any should be
absolutely unnoticeable; the truth being that it is possible to
perceive every instant of time. [This is so]; because, if it is
inconceivable that a person should, while perceiving himself or
aught else in a continuous time, be at any instant unaware of
his own existence; while, obviously, the assumption, 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, if there is any magnitude, whether time or thing,
absolutely imperceptible owing to its smallness, it follows that
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 [let
there be a line ab, divided into two parts at g, 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 in the sense that he
does so in some portion of this time, let us suppose the part gb,
representing a time in which by supposition he was perceiving
nothing, cut off from the whole. Well, then, he perceives in a
certain part [viz. in the remainder] 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 bg 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
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object] in some part of the time ab. But the same argument
holds also in the case of ag [the remainder, regarded in its turn
as a whole]; 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
perceptible, 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 sensibles, e.g. magnitude, and] nothing that one sees
is really indivisible. The reason of this has been previously
explained. 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
indivisible relatively to one another, i.e. indivisible in a sense
consistent with its being all a continuum.
First, then, is it conceivable that one should perceive the
different things coinstantaneously, but each with a different
part of the Soul? Or [must we object] that, 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 with a different part, it
1293
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?
Should any one [to illustrate how the Soul might have in it two
different parts specifically identical, each directed to a set of
aistheta 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 simultaneous perception with one sense) is what emerges
from the analogy]; while if the two parts of Soul remain
separate, the analogy 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 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.
But if the Soul does not, in the way suggested [i.e. with different
parts of itself acting simultaneously], perceive in one 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.
1294
If then, as is the fact, the Soul with one part perceives Sweet,
with another, White, either that 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 senseperception is one. What one object, then, does that one faculty
[when perceiving an object, e.g. as both White and Sweet]
perceive? [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 each 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?
Or is what occurs in the case of the perceiving Soul conceivably
analogous to what holds true in that of the things 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]. 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 of its objects,
in species as regards others. Hence too, we may conclude that
one
can
perceive
[numerically
different
objects]
coinstantaneously with a faculty which 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].
1295
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1
We have, in the next place, to treat of Memory and
Remembering, considering its nature, its cause, and the part of
the soul to which this experience, as well as that of Recollecting,
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 are better at recollecting.
We must first form a true conception of these objects of
memory, a point on which mistakes are often made. Now to
remember 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 senseperception. For by the latter we know not the future, nor the
past, but the 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
contemplation 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 from the actualizations of the faculty concerned, he thus
remembers (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
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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 (sensory
stimulation) involved the act of perception stamps in, as it were,
a sort of impression of the percept, just as persons do who
make an impression with a seal. 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 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 quick and those who are too slow have bad
memories. The former are too soft, 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 is
absent; if the latter, how is it possible that, though perceiving
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
contemplates, and this is what he perceives. How then does he
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2
Next comes the subject of Recollection, in dealing with which
we must assume as fundamental the truths elicited above in
our introductory discussions. For recollection is not the
recovery or acquisition of memory; since at the instant when
one at first learns (a fact of science) or experiences (a particular
fact of sense), he does not thereby recover a memory,
inasmuch as none has preceded, nor does he acquire one ab
initio. It is only at the instant when the aforesaid state or
affection (of the aisthesis or upolepsis) is implanted in the soul
that memory exists, and therefore memory is not itself
implanted concurrently with the continuous implantation of
the (original) 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 established in the
person affected the (sensory) affection, or the scientific
knowledge (if one ought to apply the term scientific knowledge
to the (mnemonic) state or affection; and indeed one may well
remember, in the incidental sense, some of the things (i.e. ta
katholou) which are properly objects of scientific knowledge);
but to remember, strictly and properly speaking, is an activity
which will not be immanent until the 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, (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 present act of
recollection, to remember as a continued consequence of the
original perception or other experience; whereas when (after an
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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 series denoted by
the symbols A, B, G, D, E, Z, I, H, O. For, if he does not remember
what he wants at E, then at E he remembers O; because from E
movement in either direction is possible, to D or to Z. 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 G if he is
searching for H or I. 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). The cause of ones 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 G to I or to D. If, then,
the mind has not (when starting from E) moved in an old path
(i.e. one in which it moved first having the objective experience,
and that, therefore, in which un-ethized phusis 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 assumes the role of Nature. Hence the
rapidity with which we recollect what we frequently think
about. For as regular sequence of events is in accordance with
nature, so, too, regular sequence is observed in the actualization
of kinesis (in consciousness), and here frequency tends to
produce (the regularity of) nature. And since in the realm of
nature occurrences take place which are 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 startingpoint) the mind receives an impulse to move sometimes in the
required direction, and at other times otherwise, (doing the
latter) particularly when something else somehow deflects the
mind from the right direction and attracts it to itself. This last
consideration explains too how it happens that, when we want
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1311
1
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 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 remember (their
dream); and if this occurs, what its explanation 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.
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 and sickness, beauty and
1312
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1315
2
We must now proceed to inquire into the cause why one sleeps
and wakes, and into the particular nature of the senseperception, or sense-perceptions, if there be several, on which
these affections depend. Since, then, some animals possess all
the modes of sense-perception, and some not all, not, for
example, sight, while all possess touch and taste, except such
animals as are 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 sensory faculty whatever, it follows that in 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 other
senses severally; while all are accompanied by a common
power, in virtue whereof a person perceives that he sees or
hears (for, assuredly, it is not by the special sense of sight that
one sees that he sees; and it is not by mere taste, or 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
sense; for there is one sensory function, and the controlling
sensory faculty is one, though differing as a faculty of
perception 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 can exist
apart from all the other organs of sense, but none of them can
exist apart from it a subject of which we have treated in our
speculations concerning the Soul); it is therefore evident that
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1319
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 senseimpression. 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.
3
The point for consideration next in order to the preceding 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
food and receive growth, and in all cases food in its ultimate
form is, in sanguineous animals, the natural substance blood,
or, in bloodless animals, that which is analogous to this; and
since the veins are the place of the blood, while the origin of
these is the heart an assertion which is proved by anatomy it
is manifest that, when the external nutriment enters the parts
fitted for its reception, the evaporation arising from it enters
into the veins, and there, undergoing a change, 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 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 established fact that some persons
1320
the dissolved matter acts, if not cold, like food prior to digestion.
Moreover, some kinds of illness have this same effect; those
arising from moist and hot secretions, as happens with feverpatients and in cases of lethargy. 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 seizures; for sleep is like epilepsy, and, in a
sense, actually is a seizure of this sort. Accordingly, the
beginning 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, 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, too, to think that this
affection is the cause of the embryos 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 abnormally large, the impetus of the
evaporation upwards is excessive. Those [on the contrary]
1322
whose veins are large are, thanks to the easy flow through the
veins, not addicted to sleep, unless, indeed, they labour under
some other affection which counteracts [this easy flow]. Nor are
the atrabilious 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 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
wheresoever such secretion is potentially present [i.e. tends to
be formed].
Hence it is plain from what has been said that sleep is a sort of
concentration, or natural recoil, of the hot matter inwards
[towards its centre], due to the cause above mentioned. 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. Accordingly [in sleep] the upper and
outward parts are cool, but 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, are
productive of sleep, for it is not probable that sleep should be a
process of cooling while the things that cause sleeping are
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 evaporation
ascends thither? Or, as those who have hot water poured on
them feel a sudden shiver of cold, just so in the case before us,
may it be that, when the hot substance ascends, the cold
rallying to meet it cools [the aforesaid parts] deprives their
1323
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1325
On Dreams
translated by J. I. Beare
1
We 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 pertains to the
faculty of intelligence or to that of sense-perception; 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 some
perceptions common to the senses, such as figure, magnitude,
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 dreams] we not
only assert, e.g. that some object approaching 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 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,
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2
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 of senseperception corresponding to each sensory organ produce senseperception 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. For in the
case of these the movement continues even when that which
set up the movement is no longer in contact [with the things
that are moved]. For that which set them in motion moves 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 come to a standstill.
This we must likewise assume to happen in the case of
qualitative change; 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 oint of origination. This 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,
1329
when we have turned our gaze from sunlight into darkness. For
the result of this is that one sees nothing, owing to the 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
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 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 stimulations still present
themselves, for the things really at rest are 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.
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, even taking
it independently, one might devote close consideration 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. If a woman chances during
her menstrual period to look into a highly polished mirror, the
surface of it will grow cloudy with a blood-coloured haze. It is
very hard to remove this stain from a new mirror, but easier to
remove from an older mirror. As we have said before, the cause
of this lies in the fact that in the act of sight there occurs not
only a passion in the sense organ acted on by the polished
surface, but the organ, as an agent, also produces an action, as
is proper to a brilliant object. For sight is the property of an
organ possessing brilliance and colour. The eyes, therefore, have
1330
3
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
themselves not only when persons are awake, but also then,
when this affection which is called sleep has come upon them,
with even greater impressiveness. For by day, while the senses
and the intellect are working together, they (i.e. such
movements) are extruded from consciousness or obscured, just
as 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 interior, they [i.e.
the above movements] are borne in to the head quarters of
sense-perception, and there display themselves 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 started, but often, too,
broken into other forms by collisions with obstacles. This [last
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1337
On Prophesying by Dreams
translated by J. I. Beare
1
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
persons, or many, suppose dreams to possess a special
significance, tends to inspire us with belief in it [such
divination], as founded 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 its further unreasonableness,
it is absurd to combine the idea that the sender of such dreams
1338
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 foresight 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 [the cause] of an eclipse of the sun,
or in which fatigue is [a cause] of fever; token [in the sense in
which] the entrance of a 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 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 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. For the movements which occur in
the daytime [within the body] are, unless very great and violent,
lost sight of in contrast with the 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 ears; or that they are
enjoying honey or other sweet savours, when only a tiny drop of
1339
1340
2
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, however, for Nature [their cause] is
divinely planned, though not itself divine. A special proof [of
their not being sent by God] is this: the power of foreseeing 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 being merely like that of persons who play
at even and odd. For the principle which is expressed in the
gamblers maxim: If you make many throws your luck must
change, holds in their case also.
That many dreams have no fulfilment is not strange, for it is so
too with many bodily toms and weather-signs, e.g. those of train
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
1341
ought to be accomplished by human agency, many, though wellplanned are by the operation of other principles more powerful
[than mans 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 he identical with
that which is now going to be. Still, however, we must hold that
the beginnings from which, as we said, no consummation
follows, are real beginnings, 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
involving beginnings which are not extravagant in any of these
respects, 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 proposed by Democritus, who alleges images and
emanations as its cause. As, when something has caused
motion in water or air, this [the 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
movement is not present; just so it may well be that a
movement and a consequent sense-perception should reach
sleeping souls from the objects from which Democritus
represents images and emanations coming; that such
movements, in whatever way they arrive, should be more
perceptible at night [than by day], because when proceeding
thus in the daytime they are more liable to dissolution (since at
night the air is less disturbed, there being then less wind); and
that they shall be perceived within the body 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
1342
1344
1
The reasons for some animals being long-lived and others
short-lived, and, in a word, 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. 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
interchangeable, while in the case of others ill-health is
perfectly compatible with long 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 to do so.
But at present we have to investigate the causes of some
creatures being long-lived, and others short-lived. We find this
distinction affecting not only entire genera opposed as wholes
to one another, but applying also to contrasted sets of
individuals within the same species. As an instance of the
difference applying to the genus I give man and horse (for
1345
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. Likewise there are
similar differences among individuals occupying the same
locality.
2
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 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 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 forgetfulness, 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 or knowledge resident in it
passes away too. Hence from these considerations we may draw
1346
3
Perhaps one might reasonably raise the question whether there
is any place where what is corruptible becomes incorruptible, as
fire does in the upper regions where it meets with no opposite.
Opposites destroy each other, and hence 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 predicated 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 it exists either 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
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
1347
4
We find that a superior immunity from decay attaches 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 preeminence (for the bee is longer-lived than certain sanguineous
1348
5
The following considerations may enable us to understand the
reasons for all these facts. We must remember that an 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 constituting the
bodies of all things 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, and fire never becomes corrupted.
1349
1350
females, and the reason is that 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 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 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 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 of larger size.
1351
6
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.
But we must discover the reason why trees are of an enduring
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 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 growing, 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 or more may
be derived from a single one. Insects, however, 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 and the other
grows old; it is practically a case of longevity. 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
1352
1353
1
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, 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 (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 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 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),
1354
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 nutritive principle must be
situated midway between these regions. That part where food
enters we call upper, considering it by itself and not relatively to
the surrounding universe, while downward is that part by which
the primary excrement is discharged.
Plants are the reverse of animals in this respect. To man 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, by means of
which they take in their food, whether the source of supply be
the earth or each others bodies.
2
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 intermediate 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 by observation and by inference
1355
that the source of the nutritive soul is in the midst of the three
parts. For many animals, when either part the head or the
receptacle of the food is cut off, retain life in that member to
which the middle 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 potentially
it is multiple, for these animals have a constitution 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 will be given of the reason why some plants
cannot live when divided, while others can be propagated by
the taking of slips. In this respect, however, plants and insects
are alike.
It is true that the nutritive soul, in beings possessing it, while
actually single must be potentially plural. And it is too with the
principle of sensation, for evidently the 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 together,
but animals of superior construction behave differently 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 susceptibility; the animals
continue to move after the vitals have been abstracted:
tortoises, for example, do so even after the heart has been
removed.
1356
3
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 the place of
junction is situated at the point of attachment (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 startingpoint 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. 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 heart must
develop first. We have already asserted in our treatise on The
Parts of Animals that it is from the heart that the veins issue,
and that in sanguineous animals the blood 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. But it is the heart that has supreme control,
exercising an additional and completing function. Hence in
sanguineous animals the source both of 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
1357
4
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 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 principles are
1358
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.
Further, that which employs an instrument and the instrument
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 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 warmth of
constitution, and hence when alive they are observed to be
warm, but when dead and deprived of life they are the opposite.
Indeed, the source of this warmth must be in the heart in
sanguineous animals, and in the case of bloodless 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, as it were, set aglow with fire
in this part, which in sanguineous animals is the heart and in
the bloodless order the analogous member. Hence, of necessity,
life must be coincident with the maintenance of heat, and what
we call death is its destruction.
1359
5
However, it is to be noticed that there are two ways in which fire
ceases to exist; it may go out either by exhaustion 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.] 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
maintenance, the fire fails; and the reason is that the opposite,
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 evaporation. Hence not only is a
smaller fire readily put out by a large one, but of itself the
candle flame is consumed 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.
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 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 it possesses. However, we have stated in
The Problems the reasons why these operations, namely
1360
6
Everything living has soul, and it, 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] when first it is
taken in, whereas abstinence from 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 ground cannot produce its cooling effect, the
heat comes to 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, 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 this
refrigeration occurs.
1361
7
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 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 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 immersed in water; for their lung,
containing little blood, has 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 lung charged with blood have greater
need of respiration on account of the amount of their heat,
while none at all of the others which do not possess lungs
breathe.
8
Democritus of Abdera and certain others who have treated of
respiration, while saying nothing definite about the lungless
1362
1363
9
Further, the assertion that they draw in air out of the 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. 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 dry land and gasp. Moreover, always when
respiring animals 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 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. If in the former case it were possible, 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 produces this effect
upon them, and the reason given by Diogenes 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
1364
10
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 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 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.
1365
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. Death is the
departure of those forms owing to the expulsive 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 does 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, and how 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 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 and annul the
expulsive movement, whereas it is the opposite 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
1366
11
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 preserved,
and whether it is due to the same or a different cause. For if
respiration occurs only in land-animals we should be 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 place
whence the internal warmth issued, through the interstices 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.
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.
1367
12
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
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 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
1368
13
Empedocles also gives an account of respiration without,
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 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 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 elsewhere.
Empedocles, however, explains the passage inwards and
outwards of the breath, by the theory that there are certain
blood-vessels, which, while containing blood, are 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 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.
1369
Thus all things outwards breathe and in; their flesh has tubes
Bloodless, that stretch towards the bodys 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,
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 waters silvery sheen;
Not then the flood the vessel enters, but the air,
Until she frees the crowded stream. But then indeed
Upon the escape runs in the water meet.
So also when within the vessels deeps the water
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,
Until the maid withdraws her hand. But then in contrariwise
Once more the air comes in and water meet flows out.
1370
14
We have already stated that life and the presence of soul
involve a certain heat. Not even the digesting process to which
1371
1372
15
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 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. 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 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 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 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 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.
1373
1374
16
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 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 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 and sleep
on shore or, when they do so in the water, keep 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 (pterugion) from their similarity to wings
(pterux). 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 (pneumon) from its function as a receptacle of
the breath (pneuma)), while gills are relevant to 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
1375
17
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 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 the
faculty of producing refrigeration. But to prevent their food from
impeding these operations there is a similar contrivance 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, 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 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
1376
18
Among water-animals the cetaceans may give rise to some
perplexity, though they too can be rationally explained.
Examples of such animals are dolphins and whales, and all
others that have a blowhole. 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 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 in the water, they must admit it,
and it is in order to discharge this that they all have a blowhole; after admitting the water they expel it through the blowhole as the fishes do through the gills. The position of the blowhole 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.
It is for the very same reason that molluscs and crustaceans
admit water I mean such animals as Carabi and Carcini. For
1377
19
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 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. Hence too those with most blood and most warmth in
the lung are of greater size, and animal in which the blood in
the 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 constraining
and efficient cause, we must believe that it created animals like
1378
20
Empedocles is then in error when he says that those animals
which have the most warmth and fire live in the water to
counterbalance the excess of heat in their constitution, 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. 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 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 Empedocles aims at establishing, yet his
account is not correct. Excess in a bodily 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
1379
1380
21
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 refrigeration 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 performed 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.
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.
22
In order to understand the way in which the heart is connected
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 place
in the heart. Respiration is the means of effecting refrigeration,
1381
1382
23
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 cause of death is
external, the latter when it is internal, and 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 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 containing the
source of the creatures essential nature. This member 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 in those that are
bloodless the corresponding part of their body. But some of
these animals have potentially many 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 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 with
which it is bound up is no longer tempered by cooling, for, as I
have often remarked, it is consumed by itself. Hence when,
1383
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 expanded or
contracted. Finally things come to a climax, and the fire goes
out from exhaustion.
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 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 souls connexion is
severed. All diseases which harden the lung by forming tumours
or waste residues, or by excess of morbid heat, as happens in
fevers, accelerate the breathing owing to the inability of the
lung to move far either upwards or downwards. Finally, when
motion is no longer possible, the breath is given out and death
ensues.
24
Generation is the initial participation, mediated by warm
substance, in the nutritive soul, and life is the maintenance of
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
dissolution), while natural death is the exhaustion of the heat
owing to lapse of time, and occurring at the end of life. In plants
1384
25
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, 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
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
constitution of the organ.
26
In connexion with the heart there are three phenomena, which,
though apparently of the same nature, are 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
products. It occurs, for example, in the ailment known as
spasms and in other diseases. It occurs also in fear, for when
1385
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 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 produced
in the blood is unnatural, and it goes on until the 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 terminates in suppuration due to
the thickening of the liquid, while in boiling it ends in the
escape of the fluid out of the containing vessel.
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 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.
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.
1386
27
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. This organ we must 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 force.
Thus on increase of bulk expansion results, which necessarily
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, being
cold, by its chilling influence reduces by extinction the excess of
the fire. But, as the increase of bulk causes the 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 specially the case in those
animals that possess a full-blooded lung. The numerous canallike ducts in the lung, into which it passes, have each a bloodvessel lying alongside, so that the whole lung is thought to be
full of blood. The inward passage of the air is called respiration,
1387
1388
Book I
1
Of the parts of animals some are simple: to wit, all such as
divide into parts uniform with themselves, as flesh into flesh;
others are composite, such as divide into parts not uniform with
themselves, as, for instance, the hand does not divide into
hands nor the face into faces.
And of such as these, some are called not parts merely, but
limbs or members. Such are those parts that, while entire in
themselves, have within themselves other diverse parts: as for
instance, the head, foot, hand, the arm as a whole, the chest; for
these are all in themselves entire parts, and there are other
diverse parts belonging to them.
All those parts that do not subdivide into parts uniform with
themselves are composed of parts that do so subdivide, for
instance, hand is composed of flesh, sinews, and bones. Of
animals, some resemble one another in all their parts, while
others have parts wherein they differ. Sometimes the parts are
identical in form or species, as, for instance, one mans nose or
eye resembles another mans nose or eye, flesh flesh, and bone
bone; and in like manner with a horse, and with all other
animals which we reckon to be of one and the same species: for
as the whole is to the whole, so each to each are the parts
1389
severally. In other cases the parts are identical, save only for a
difference in the way of excess or defect, as is the case in such
animals as are of one and the same genus. By genus I mean,
for instance, Bird or Fish, for each of these is subject to
difference in respect of its genus, and there are many species of
fishes and of birds.
Within the limits of genera, most of the parts as a rule exhibit
differences through contrast of the property or accident, such as
colour and shape, to which they are subject: in that some are
more and some in a less degree the subject of the same
property or accident; and also in the way of multitude or
fewness, magnitude or parvitude, in short in the way of excess
or defect. Thus in some the texture of the flesh is soft, in others
firm; some have a long bill, others a short one; some have
abundance of feathers, others have only a small quantity. It
happens further that some have parts that others have not: for
instance, some have spurs and others not, some have crests and
others not; but as a general rule, most parts and those that go to
make up the bulk of the body are either identical with one
another, or differ from one another in the way of contrast and of
excess and defect. For the more and the less may be
represented as excess or defect.
Once again, we may have to do with animals whose parts are
neither identical in form nor yet identical save for differences in
the way of excess or defect: but they are the same only in the
way of analogy, as, for instance, bone is only analogous to fishbone, nail to hoof, hand to claw, and scale to feather; for what
the feather is in a bird, the scale is in a fish.
The parts, then, which animals severally possess are diverse
from, or identical with, one another in the fashion above
described. And they are so furthermore in the way of local
disposition: for many animals have identical organs that differ
1390
1391
air or water, as, for instance, the sea-nettle and the oyster. And
of creatures that live in the water some live in the sea, some in
rivers, some in lakes, and some in marshes, as the frog and the
newt.
Of animals that live on dry land some take in air and emit it,
which phenomena are termed inhalation and exhalation; as,
for instance, man and all such land animals as are furnished
with lungs. Others, again, do not inhale air, yet live and find
their sustenance on dry land; as, for instance, the wasp, the bee,
and all other insects. And by insects I mean such creatures as
have nicks or notches on their bodies, either on their bellies or
on both backs and bellies.
And of land animals many, as has been said, derive their
subsistence from the water; but of creatures that live in and
inhale water not a single one derives its subsistence from dry
land.
Some animals at first live in water, and by and by change their
shape and live out of water, as is the case with river worms, for
out of these the gadfly develops.
Furthermore, some animals are stationary, and some are erratic.
Stationary animals are found in water, but no such creature is
found on dry land. In the water are many creatures that live in
close adhesion to an external object, as is the case with several
kinds of oyster. And, by the way, the sponge appears to be
endowed with a certain sensibility: as a proof of which it is
alleged that the difficulty in detaching it from its moorings is
increased if the movement to detach it be not covertly applied.
Other creatures adhere at one time to an object and detach
themselves from it at other times, as is the case with a species
of the so-called sea-nettle; for some of these creatures seek
their food in the night-time loose and unattached.
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1394
Some are nocturnal, as the owl and the bat; others live in the
daylight.
Moreover, some creatures are tame and some are wild: some are
at all times tame, as man and the mule; others are at all times
savage, as the leopard and the wolf; and some creatures can be
rapidly tamed, as the elephant.
Again, we may regard animals in another light. For, whenever a
race of animals is found domesticated, the same is always to be
found in a wild condition; as we find to be the case with horses,
kine, swine, (men), sheep, goats, and dogs.
Further, some animals emit sound while others are mute, and
some are endowed with voice: of these latter some have
articulate speech, while others are inarticulate; some are given
to continual chirping and twittering some are prone to silence;
some are musical, and some unmusical; but all animals without
exception exercise their power of singing or chattering chiefly in
connexion with the intercourse of the sexes.
Again, some creatures live in the fields, as the cushat; some on
the mountains, as the hoopoe; some frequent the abodes of
men, as the pigeon.
Some, again, are peculiarly salacious, as the partridge, the barndoor cock and their congeners; others are inclined to chastity, as
the whole tribe of crows, for birds of this kind indulge but rarely
in sexual intercourse.
Of marine animals, again, some live in the open seas, some near
the shore, some on rocks.
Furthermore, some are combative under offence; others are
provident for defence. Of the former kind are such as act as
aggressors upon others or retaliate when subjected to ill usage,
1395
and of the latter kind are such as merely have some means of
guarding themselves against attack.
Animals also differ from one another in regard to character in
the following respects. Some are good-tempered, sluggish, and
little prone to ferocity, as the ox; others are quick tempered,
ferocious and unteachable, as the wild boar; some are
intelligent and timid, as the stag and the hare; others are mean
and treacherous, as the snake; others are noble and courageous
and high-bred, as the lion; others are thorough-bred and wild
and treacherous, as the wolf: for, by the way, an animal is
highbred if it come from a noble stock, and an animal is
thorough-bred if it does not deflect from its racial
characteristics.
Further, some are crafty and mischievous, as the fox; some are
spirited and affectionate and fawning, as the dog; others are
easy-tempered and easily domesticated, as the elephant; others
are cautious and watchful, as the goose; others are jealous and
self-conceited, as the peacock. But of all animals man alone is
capable of deliberation.
Many animals have memory, and are capable of instruction; but
no other creature except man can recall the past at will.
With regard to the several genera of animals, particulars as to
their habits of life and modes of existence will be discussed
more fully by and by.
2
Common to all animals are the organs whereby they take food
and the organs where into they take it; and these are either
1396
3
Of animals otherwise, a great many have, besides the organs
above-mentioned, an organ for excretion of the sperm: and of
animals capable of generation one secretes into another, and
the other into itself. The latter is termed female, and the
former male; but some animals have neither male nor female.
Consequently, the organs connected with this function differ in
1397
4
Every animal is supplied with moisture, and, if the animal be
deprived of the same by natural causes or artificial means,
death ensues: further, every animal has another part in which
the moisture is contained. These parts are blood and vein, and
in other animals there is something to correspond; but in these
latter the parts are imperfect, being merely fibre and serum or
lymph.
Touch has its seat in a part uniform and homogeneous, as in
the flesh or something of the kind, and generally, with animals
supplied with blood, in the parts charged with blood. In other
animals it has its seat in parts analogous to the parts charged
with blood; but in all cases it is seated in parts that in their
texture are homogeneous.
The active faculties, on the contrary, are seated in the parts that
are heterogeneous: as, for instance, the business of preparing
1398
5
Again, some animals are viviparous, others oviparous, others
vermiparous or grub-bearing. Some are viviparous, such as
man, the horse, the seal, and all other animals that are haircoated, and, of marine animals, the cetaceans, as the dolphin,
and the so-called Selachia. (Of these latter animals, some have a
tubular air-passage and no gills, as the dolphin and the whale:
the dolphin with the air-passage going through its back, the
whale with the air-passage in its forehead; others have
uncovered gills, as the Selachia, the sharks and rays.)
What we term an egg is a certain completed result of
conception out of which the animal that is to be develops, and
in such a way that in respect to its primitive germ it comes from
part only of the egg, while the rest serves for food as the germ
develops. A grub on the other hand is a thing out of which in
its entirety the animal in its entirety develops, by differentiation
and growth of the embryo.
Of viviparous animals, some hatch eggs in their own interior, as
creatures of the shark kind; others engender in their interior a
live foetus, as man and the horse. When the result of
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1400
1401
6
Very extensive genera of animals, into which other subdivisions
fall, are the following: one, of birds; one, of fishes; and another,
of cetaceans. Now all these creatures are blooded.
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1403
1404
7
The chief parts into which the body as a whole is subdivided,
are the head, the neck, the trunk (extending from the neck to
the privy parts), which is called the thorax, two arms and two
legs.
Of the parts of which the head is composed the hair-covered
portion is called the skull. The front portion of it is termed
bregma or sinciput, developed after birth for it is the last of
all the bones in the body to acquire solidity, the hinder part is
termed the occiput, and the part intervening between the
sinciput and the occiput is the crown. The brain lies
underneath the sinciput; the occiput is hollow. The skull
consists entirely of thin bone, rounded in shape, and contained
within a wrapper of fleshless skin.
The skull has sutures: one, of circular form, in the case of
women; in the case of men, as a general rule, three meeting at a
point. Instances have been known of a mans skull devoid of
suture altogether. In the skull the middle line, where the hair
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8
The part that lies under the skull is called the face: but in the
case of man only, for the term is not applied to a fish or to an
ox. In the face the part below the sinciput and between the eyes
is termed the forehead. When men have large foreheads, they
are slow to move; when they have small ones, they are fickle;
when they have broad ones, they are apt to be distraught; when
they have foreheads rounded or bulging out, they are quicktempered.
9
Underneath the forehead are two eyebrows. Straight eyebrows
are a sign of softness of disposition; such as curve in towards
the nose, of harshness; such as curve out towards the temples,
of humour and dissimulation; such as are drawn in towards one
another, of jealousy.
Under the eyebrows come the eyes. These are naturally two in
number. Each of them has an upper and a lower eyelid, and the
hairs on the edges of these are termed eyelashes. The central
part of the eye includes the moist part whereby vision is
effected, termed the pupil, and the part surrounding it called
the black; the part outside this is the white. A part common to
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10
Of the eye the white is pretty much the same in all creatures;
but what is called the black differs in various animals. Some
have the rim black, some distinctly blue, some greyish-blue,
some greenish; and this last colour is the sign of an excellent
disposition, and is particularly well adapted for sharpness of
vision. Man is the only, or nearly the only, creature, that has
eyes of diverse colours. Animals, as a rule, have eyes of one
colour only. Some horses have blue eyes.
Of eyes, some are large, some small, some medium-sized; of
these, the medium-sized are the best. Moreover, eyes
sometimes protrude, sometimes recede, sometimes are neither
protruding nor receding. Of these, the receding eye is in all
1407
animals the most acute; but the last kind are the sign of the
best disposition. Again, eyes are sometimes inclined to wink
under observation, sometimes to remain open and staring, and
sometimes are disposed neither to wink nor stare. The last kind
are the sign of the best nature, and of the others, the latter kind
indicates impudence, and the former indecision.
11
Furthermore, there is a portion of the head, whereby an animal
hears, a part incapable of breathing, the ear. I say incapable of
breathing, for Alcmaeon is mistaken when he says that goats
inspire through their ears. Of the ear one part is unnamed, the
other part is called the lobe; and it is entirely composed of
gristle and flesh. The ear is constructed internally like the
trumpet-shell, and the innermost bone is like the ear itself, and
into it at the end the sound makes its way, as into the bottom of
a jar. This receptacle does not communicate by any passage
with the brain, but does so with the palate, and a vein extends
from the brain towards it. The eyes also are connected with the
brain, and each of them lies at the end of a little vein. Of
animals possessed of ears man is the only one that cannot
move this organ. Of creatures possessed of hearing, some have
ears, whilst others have none, but merely have the passages for
ears visible, as, for example, feathered animals or animals
coated with horny tessellates.
Viviparous animals, with the exception of the seal, the dolphin,
and those others which after a similar fashion to these are
cetaceans, are all provided with ears; for, by the way, the sharkkind are also viviparous. Now, the seal has the passages visible
whereby it hears; but the dolphin can hear, but has no ears, nor
1408
yet any passages visible. But man alone is unable to move his
ears, and all other animals can move them. And the ears lie,
with man, in the same horizontal plane with the eyes, and not
in a plane above them as is the case with some quadrupeds. Of
ears, some are fine, some are coarse, and some are of medium
texture; the last kind are best for hearing, but they serve in no
way to indicate character. Some ears are large, some small,
some medium-sized; again, some stand out far, some lie in
close and tight, and some take up a medium position; of these
such as are of medium size and of medium position are
indications of the best disposition, while the large and
outstanding ones indicate a tendency to irrelevant talk or
chattering. The part intercepted between the eye, the ear, and
the crown is termed the temple. Again, there is a part of the
countenance that serves as a passage for the breath, the nose.
For a man inhales and exhales by this organ, and sneezing is
effected by its means: which last is an outward rush of collected
breath, and is the only mode of breath used as an omen and
regarded as supernatural. Both inhalation and exhalation go
right on from the nose towards the chest; and with the nostrils
alone and separately it is impossible to inhale or exhale, owing
to the fact that the inspiration and respiration take place from
the chest along the windpipe, and not by any portion connected
with the head; and indeed it is possible for a creature to live
without using this process of nasal respiration.
Again, smelling takes place by means of the nose, smelling, or
the sensible discrimination of odour. And the nostril admits of
easy motion, and is not, like the ear, intrinsically immovable. A
part of it, composed of gristle, constitutes, a septum or partition,
and part is an open passage; for the nostril consists of two
separate channels. The nostril (or nose) of the elephant is long
and strong, and the animal uses it like a hand; for by means of
this organ it draws objects towards it, and takes hold of them,
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and introduces its food into its mouth, whether liquid or dry
food, and it is the only living creature that does so.
Furthermore, there are two jaws; the front part of them
constitutes the chin, and the hinder part the cheek. All animals
move the lower jaw, with the exception of the river crocodile;
this creature moves the upper jaw only.
Next after the nose come two lips, composed of flesh, and facile
of motion. The mouth lies inside the jaws and lips. Parts of the
mouth are the roof or palate and the pharynx.
The part that is sensible of taste is the tongue. The sensation
has its seat at the tip of the tongue; if the object to be tasted be
placed on the flat surface of the organ, the taste is less sensibly
experienced. The tongue is sensitive in all other ways wherein
flesh in general is so: that is, it can appreciate hardness, or
warmth and cold, in any part of it, just as it can appreciate taste.
The tongue is sometimes broad, sometimes narrow, and
sometimes of medium width; the last kind is the best and the
clearest in its discrimination of taste. Moreover, the tongue is
sometimes loosely hung, and sometimes fastened: as in the
case of those who mumble and who lisp.
The tongue consists of flesh, soft and spongy, and the so-called
epiglottis is a part of this organ.
That part of the mouth that splits into two bits is called the
tonsils; that part that splits into many bits, the gums. Both
the tonsils and the gums are composed of flesh. In the gums are
teeth, composed of bone.
Inside the mouth is another part, shaped like a bunch of grapes,
a pillar streaked with veins. If this pillar gets relaxed and
inflamed it is called uvula or bunch of grapes, and it then has
a tendency to bring about suffocation.
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12
The neck is the part between the face and the trunk. Of this the
front part is the larynx land the back part the ur The front part,
composed of gristle, through which respiration and speech is
effected, is termed the windpipe; the part that is fleshy is the
oesophagus, inside just in front of the chine. The part to the
back of the neck is the epomis, or shoulder-point.
These then are the parts to be met with before you come to the
thorax.
To the trunk there is a front part and a back part. Next after the
neck in the front part is the chest, with a pair of breasts. To each
of the breasts is attached a teat or nipple, through which in the
case of females the milk percolates; and the breast is of a
spongy texture. Milk, by the way, is found at times in the male;
but with the male the flesh of the breast is tough, with the
female it is soft and porous.
13
Next after the thorax and in front comes the belly, and its root
the navel. Underneath this root the bilateral part is the flank:
the undivided part below the navel, the abdomen, the
extremity of which is the region of the pubes; above the navel
the hypochondrium; the cavity common to the hypochondrium
and the flank is the gut-cavity.
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14
The privy part of the female is in character opposite to that of
the male. In other words, the part under the pubes is hollow or
receding, and not, like the male organ, protruding. Further, there
is an urethra outside the womb; which organ serves as a
passage for the sperm of the male, and as an outlet for liquid
excretion to both sexes).
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The part common to the neck and chest is the throat; the
armpit is common to side, arm, and shoulder; and the groin is
common to thigh and abdomen. The part inside the thigh and
buttocks is the perineum, and the part outside the thigh and
buttocks is the hypoglutis.
The front parts of the trunk have now been enumerated.
The part behind the chest is termed the back.
15
Parts of the back are a pair of shoulderblades, the back-bone,
and, underneath on a level with the belly in the trunk, the
loins. Common to the upper and lower part of the trunk are
the ribs, eight on either side, for as to the so-called sevenribbed Ligyans we have not received any trustworthy evidence.
Man, then, has an upper and a lower part, a front and a back
part, a right and a left side. Now the right and the left side are
pretty well alike in their parts and identical throughout, except
that the left side is the weaker of the two; but the back parts do
not resemble the front ones, neither do the lower ones the
upper: only that these upper and lower parts may be said to
resemble one another thus far, that, if the face be plump or
meagre, the abdomen is plump or meagre to correspond; and
that the legs correspond to the arms, and where the upper arm
is short the thigh is usually short also, and where the feet are
small the hands are small correspondingly.
Of the limbs, one set, forming a pair, is arms. To the arm belong
the shoulder, upper-arm, elbow, fore-arm, and hand. To the
hand belong the palm, and the five fingers. The part of the
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1414
might safely be left to mere ordinary perception. But for all that,
we must treat of them for the same reason as the one
previously brought forward; that is to say, we must refer to them
in order that a due and regular sequence may be observed in
our exposition, and in order that by the enumeration of these
obvious facts due attention may be subsequently given to those
parts in men and other animals that are diverse in any way
from one another.
In man, above all other animals, the terms upper and lower
are used in harmony with their natural positions; for in him,
upper and lower have the same meaning as when they are
applied to the universe as a whole. In like manner the terms, in
front, behind, right and left, are used in accordance with
their natural sense. But in regard to other animals, in some
cases these distinctions do not exist, and in others they do so,
but in a vague way. For instance, the head with all animals is up
and above in respect to their bodies; but man alone, as has been
said, has, in maturity, this part uppermost in respect to the
material universe.
Next after the head comes the neck, and then the chest and the
back: the one in front and the other behind. Next after these
come the belly, the loins, the sexual parts, and the haunches;
then the thigh and shin; and, lastly, the feet.
The legs bend frontwards, in the direction of actual progression,
and frontwards also lies that part of the foot which is the most
effective of motion, and the flexure of that part; but the heel lies
at the back, and the anklebones lie laterally, earwise. The arms
are situated to right and left, and bend inwards: so that the
convexities formed by bent arms and legs are practically face to
face with one another in the case of man.
As for the senses and for the organs of sensation, the eyes, the
nostrils, and the tongue, all alike are situated frontwards; the
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16
The parts, then, that are externally visible are arranged in the
way above stated, and as a rule have their special designations,
and from use and wont are known familiarly to all; but this is
not the case with the inner parts. For the fact is that the inner
parts of man are to a very great extent unknown, and the
consequence is that we must have recourse to an examination
of the inner parts of other animals whose nature in any way
resembles that of man.
In the first place then, the brain lies in the front part of the
head. And this holds alike with all animals possessed of a brain;
and all blooded animals are possessed thereof, and, by the way,
molluscs as well. But, taking size for size of animal, the largest
brain, and the moistest, is that of man. Two membranes enclose
it: the stronger one near the bone of the skull; the inner one,
round the brain itself, is finer. The brain in all cases is bilateral.
Behind this, right at the back, comes what is termed the
cerebellum, differing in form from the brain as we may both
feel and see.
1416
The back of the head is with all animals empty and hollow,
whatever be its size in the different animals. For some creatures
have big heads while the face below is small in proportion, as is
the case with round-faced animals; some have little heads and
long jaws, as is the case, without exception, among animals of
the mane-and-tail species.
The brain in all animals is bloodless, devoid of veins, and
naturally cold to the touch; in the great majority of animals it
has a small hollow in its centre. The brain-caul around it is
reticulated with veins; and this brain-caul is that skin-like
membrane which closely surrounds the brain. Above the brain
is the thinnest and weakest bone of the head, which is termed
or sinciput.
From the eye there go three ducts to the brain: the largest and
the medium-sized to the cerebellum, the least to the brain
itself; and the least is the one situated nearest to the nostril.
The two largest ones, then, run side by side and do not meet;
the medium-sized ones meet and this is particularly visible in
fishes, for they lie nearer than the large ones to the brain; the
smallest pair are the most widely separate from one another,
and do not meet.
Inside the neck is what is termed the oesophagus (whose other
name is derived oesophagus from its length and narrowness),
and the windpipe. The windpipe is situated in front of the
oesophagus in all animals that have a windpipe, and all animals
have one that are furnished with lungs. The windpipe is made
up of gristle, is sparingly supplied with blood, and is streaked all
round with numerous minute veins; it is situated, in its upper
part, near the mouth, below the aperture formed by the nostrils
into the mouth an aperture through which, when men, in
drinking, inhale any of the liquid, this liquid finds its way out
through the nostrils. In betwixt the two openings comes the so-
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17
The heart has three cavities, and is situated above the lung at
the division of the windpipe, and is provided with a fatty and
thick membrane where it fastens on to the great vein and the
aorta. It lies with its tapering portion upon the aorta, and this
portion is similarly situated in relation to the chest in all
animals that have a chest. In all animals alike, in those that
have a chest and in those that have none, the apex of the heart
points forwards, although this fact might possibly escape notice
by a change of position under dissection. The rounded end of
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the heart is at the top. The apex is to a great extent fleshy and
close in texture, and in the cavities of the heart are sinews. As a
rule the heart is situated in the middle of the chest in animals
that have a chest, and in man it is situated a little to the lefthand side, leaning a little way from the division of the breasts
towards the left breast in the upper part of the chest.
The heart is not large, and in its general shape it is not
elongated; in fact, it is somewhat round in form: only, be it
remembered, it is sharp-pointed at the bottom. It has three
cavities, as has been said: the right-hand one the largest of the
three, the left-hand one the least, and the middle one
intermediate in size. All these cavities, even the two small ones,
are connected by passages with the lung, and this fact is
rendered quite plain in one of the cavities. And below, at the
point of attachment, in the largest cavity there is a connexion
with the great vein (near which the mesentery lies); and in the
middle one there is a connexion with the aorta.
Canals lead from the heart into the lung, and branch off just as
the windpipe does, running all over the lung parallel with the
passages from the windpipe. The canals from the heart are
uppermost; and there is no common passage, but the passages
through their having a common wall receive the breath and
pass it on to the heart; and one of the passages conveys it to the
right cavity, and the other to the left.
With regard to the great vein and the aorta we shall, by and by,
treat of them together in a discussion devoted to them and to
them alone. In all animals that are furnished with a lung, and
that are both internally and externally viviparous, the lung is of
all organs the most richly supplied with blood; for the lung is
throughout spongy in texture, and along by every single pore in
it go branches from the great vein. Those who imagine it to be
empty are altogether mistaken; and they are led into their error
1420
1421
1422
along the stalk that extends to the urethra; and pretty well all
round it is fastened by fine sinewy membranes, that resemble to
some extent the thoracic diaphragm. The bladder in man is,
proportionately to his size, tolerably large.
To the stalk of the bladder the private part is attached, the
external orifices coalescing; but a little lower down, one of the
openings communicates with the testicles and the other with
the bladder. The penis is gristly and sinewy in its texture. With it
are connected the testicles in male animals, and the properties
of these organs we shall discuss in our general account of the
said organ.
All these organs are similar in the female; for there is no
difference in regard to the internal organs, except in respect to
the womb, and with reference to the appearance of this organ I
must refer the reader to diagrams in my Anatomy. The womb,
however, is situated over the bowel, and the bladder lies over
the womb. But we must treat by and by in our pages of the
womb of all female animals viewed generally. For the wombs of
all female animals are not identical, neither do their local
dispositions coincide.
These are the organs, internal and external, of man, and such is
their nature and such their local disposition.
1423
Book II
1
With regard to animals in general, some parts or organs are
common to all, as has been said, and some are common only to
particular genera; the parts, moreover, are identical with or
different from one another on the lines already repeatedly laid
down. For as a general rule all animals that are generically
distinct have the majority of their parts or organs different in
form or species; and some of them they have only analogically
similar and diverse in kind or genus, while they have others
that are alike in kind but specifically diverse; and many parts or
organs exist in some animals, but not in others.
For instance, viviparous quadrupeds have all a head and a neck,
and all the parts or organs of the head, but they differ each from
other in the shapes of the parts. The lion has its neck composed
of one single bone instead of vertebrae; but, when dissected, the
animal is found in all internal characters to resemble the dog.
The quadrupedal vivipara instead of arms have forelegs. This is
true of all quadrupeds, but such of them as have toes have,
practically speaking, organs analogous to hands; at all events,
they use these fore-limbs for many purposes as hands. And they
have the limbs on the left-hand side less distinct from those on
the right than man.
The fore-limbs then serve more or less the purpose of hands in
quadrupeds, with the exception of the elephant. This latter
animal has its toes somewhat indistinctly defined, and its front
legs are much bigger than its hinder ones; it is five-toed, and
has short ankles to its hind feet. But it has a nose such in
1424
properties and such in size as to allow of its using the same for
a hand. For it eats and drinks by lifting up its food with the aid
of this organ into its mouth, and with the same organ it lifts up
articles to the driver on its back; with this organ it can pluck up
trees by the roots, and when walking through water it spouts
the water up by means of it; and this organ is capable of being
crooked or coiled at the tip, but not of flexing like a joint, for it is
composed of gristle.
Of all animals man alone can learn to make equal use of both
hands.
All animals have a part analogous to the chest in man, but not
similar to his; for the chest in man is broad, but that of all other
animals is narrow. Moreover, no other animal but man has
breasts in front; the elephant, certainly, has two breasts, not
however in the chest, but near it.
Moreover, also, animals have the flexions of their fore and hind
limbs in directions opposite to one another, and in directions
the reverse of those observed in the arms and legs of man; with
the exception of the elephant. In other words, with the
viviparous quadrupeds the front legs bend forwards and the
hind ones backwards, and the concavities of the two pairs of
limbs thus face one another.
The elephant does not sleep standing, as some were wont to
assert, but it bends its legs and settles down; only that in
consequence of its weight it cannot bend its leg on both sides
simultaneously, but falls into a recumbent position on one side
or the other, and in this position it goes to sleep. And it bends
its hind legs just as a man bends his legs.
In the case of the ovipara, as the crocodile and the lizard and
the like, both pairs of legs, fore and hind, bend forwards, with a
slight swerve on one side. The flexion is similar in the case of
1425
the multipeds; only that the legs in between the extreme ends
always move in a manner intermediate between that of those in
front and those behind, and accordingly bend sideways rather
than backwards or forwards. But man bends his arms and his
legs towards the same point, and therefore in opposite ways:
that is to say, he bends his arms backwards, with just a slight
inclination inwards, and his legs frontwards. No animal bends
both its fore-limbs and hind-limbs backwards; but in the case of
all animals the flexion of the shoulders is in the opposite
direction to that of the elbows or the joints of the forelegs, and
the flexure in the hips to that of the knees of the hind-legs: so
that since man differs from other animals in flexion, those
animals that possess such parts as these move them
contrariwise to man.
Birds have the flexions of their limbs like those of the
quadrupeds; for, although bipeds, they bend their legs
backwards, and instead of arms or front legs have wings which
bend frontwards.
The seal is a kind of imperfect or crippled quadruped; for just
behind the shoulder-blade its front feet are placed, resembling
hands, like the front paws of the bear; for they are furnished
with five toes, and each of the toes has three flexions and a nail
of inconsiderable size. The hind feet are also furnished with five
toes; in their flexions and nails they resemble the front feet, and
in shape they resemble a fishs tail.
The movements of animals, quadruped and multiped, are
crosswise, or in diagonals, and their equilibrium in standing
posture is maintained crosswise; and it is always the limb on
the right-hand side that is the first to move. The lion, however,
and the two species of camels, both the Bactrian and the
Arabian, progress by an amble; and the action so called is when
1426
the animal never overpasses the right with the left, but always
follows close upon it.
Whatever parts men have in front, these parts quadrupeds have
below, in or on the belly; and whatever parts men have behind,
these parts quadrupeds have above on their backs. Most
quadrupeds have a tail; for even the seal has a tiny one
resembling that of the stag. Regarding the tails of the pithecoids
we must give their distinctive properties by and by animal
All viviparous quadrupeds are hair-coated, whereas man has
only a few short hairs excepting on the head, but, so far as the
head is concerned, he is hairier than any other animal. Further,
of hair-coated animals, the back is hairier than the belly, which
latter is either comparatively void of hair or smooth and void of
hair altogether. With man the reverse is the case.
Man also has upper and lower eyelashes, and hair under the
armpits and on the pubes. No other animal has hair in either of
these localities, or has an under eyelash; though in the case of
some animals a few straggling hairs grow under the eyelid.
Of hair-coated quadrupeds some are hairy all over the body, as
the pig, the bear, and the dog; others are especially hairy on the
neck and all round about it, as is the case with animals that
have a shaggy mane, such as the lion; others again are
especially hairy on the upper surface of the neck from the head
as far as the withers, namely, such as have a crested mane, as in
the case with the horse, the mule, and, among the
undomesticated horned animals, the bison.
The so-called hippelaphus also has a mane on its withers, and
the animal called pardion, in either case a thin mane extending
from the head to the withers; the hippelaphus has,
exceptionally, a beard by the larynx. Both these animals have
horns and are cloven-footed; the female, however, of the
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1428
The legs of all quadrupeds are bony, sinewy, and fleshless; and
in point of fact such is the case with all animals that are
furnished with feet, with the exception of man. They are also
unfurnished with buttocks; and this last point is plain in an
especial degree in birds. It is the reverse with man; for there is
scarcely any part of the body in which man is so fleshy as in the
buttock, the thigh, and the calf; for the part of the leg called
gastroenemia or is fleshy.
Of blooded and viviparous quadrupeds some have the foot
cloven into many parts, as is the case with the hands and feet of
man (for some animals, by the way, are many-toed, as the lion,
the dog, and the pard); others have feet cloven in twain, and
instead of nails have hooves, as the sheep, the goat, the deer,
and the hippopotamus; others are uncloven of foot, such for
instance as the solid-hooved animals, the horse and the mule.
Swine are either cloven-footed or uncloven-footed; for there are
in Illyria and in Paeonia and elsewhere solid-hooved swine. The
cloven-footed animals have two clefts behind; in the solidhooved this part is continuous and undivided.
Furthermore, of animals some are horned, and some are not so.
The great majority of the horned animals are cloven-footed, as
the ox, the stag, the goat; and a solid-hooved animal with a pair
of horns has never yet been met with. But a few animals are
known to be singled-horned and single-hooved, as the Indian
ass; and one, to wit the oryx, is single horned and clovenhooved.
Of all solid-hooved animals the Indian ass alone has an
astragalus or huckle-bone; for the pig, as was said above, is
either solid-hooved or cloven-footed, and consequently has no
well-formed huckle-bone. Of the cloven footed many are
provided with a huckle-bone. Of the many-fingered or manytoed, no single one has been observed to have a huckle-bone,
1429
none of the others any more than man. The lynx, however, has
something like a hemiastragal, and the lion something
resembling the sculptors labyrinth. All the animals that have a
huckle-bone have it in the hinder legs. They have also the bone
placed straight up in the joint; the upper part, outside; the lower
part, inside; the sides called Coa turned towards one another,
the sides called Chia outside, and the keraiae or horns on the
top. This, then, is the position of the hucklebone in the case of
all animals provided with the part.
Some animals are, at one and the same time, furnished with a
mane and furnished also with a pair of horns bent in towards
one another, as is the bison (or aurochs), which is found in
Paeonia and Maedica. But all animals that are horned are
quadrupedal, except in cases where a creature is said
metaphorically, or by a figure of speech, to have horns; just as
the Egyptians describe the serpents found in the neighbourhood
of Thebes, while in point of fact the creatures have merely
protuberances on the head sufficiently large to suggest such an
epithet.
Of horned animals the deer alone has a horn, or antler, hard
and solid throughout. The horns of other animals are hollow for
a certain distance, and solid towards the extremity. The hollow
part is derived from the skin, but the core round which this is
wrapped the hard part is derived from the bones; as is the
case with the horns of oxen. The deer is the only animal that
sheds its horns, and it does so annually, after reaching the age
of two years, and again renews them. All other animals retain
their horns permanently, unless the horns be damaged by
accident.
Again, with regard to the breasts and the generative organs,
animals differ widely from one another and from man. For
instance, the breasts of some animals are situated in front,
1430
either in the chest or near to it, and there are in such cases two
breasts and two teats, as is the case with man and the elephant,
as previously stated. For the elephant has two breasts in the
region of the axillae; and the female elephant has two breasts
insignificant in size and in no way proportionate to the bulk of
the entire frame, in fact, so insignificant as to be invisible in a
sideways view; the males also have breasts, like the females,
exceedingly small. The she-bear has four breasts. Some animals
have two breasts, but situated near the thighs, and teats,
likewise two in number, as the sheep; others have four teats, as
the cow. Some have breasts neither in the chest nor at the
thighs, but in the belly, as the dog and pig; and they have a
considerable number of breasts or dugs, but not all of equal size.
Thus the shepard has four dugs in the belly, the lioness two, and
others more. The she-camel, also, has two dugs and four teats,
like the cow. Of solid-hooved animals the males have no dugs,
excepting in the case of males that take after the mother, which
phenomenon is observable in horses.
Of male animals the genitals of some are external, as is the case
with man, the horse, and most other creatures; some are
internal, as with the dolphin. With those that have the organ
externally placed, the organ in some cases is situated in front,
as in the cases already mentioned, and of these some have the
organ detached, both penis and testicles, as man; others have
penis and testicles closely attached to the belly, some more
closely, some less; for this organ is not detached in the wild
boar nor in the horse.
The penis of the elephant resembles that of the horse;
compared with the size of the animal it is disproportionately
small; the testicles are not visible, but are concealed inside in
the vicinity of the kidneys; and for this reason the male speedily
gives over in the act of intercourse. The genitals of the female
are situated where the udder is in sheep; when she is in heat,
1431
1432
1433
the tail, and has the faculty of shooting off arrow-wise the
spines that are attached to the tail; that the sound of its voice is
a something between the sound of a pan-pipe and that of a
trumpet; that it can run as swiftly as deer, and that it is savage
and a man-eater.
Man sheds his teeth, and so do other animals, as the horse, the
mule, and the ass. And man sheds his front teeth; but there is
no instance of an animal that sheds its molars. The pig sheds
none of its teeth at all.
2
With regard to dogs some doubts are entertained, as some
contend that they shed no teeth whatever, and others that they
shed the canines, but those alone; the fact being, that they do
shed their teeth like man, but that the circumstance escapes
observation, owing to the fact that they never shed them until
equivalent teeth have grown within the gums to take the place
of the shed ones. We shall be justified in supposing that the
case is similar with wild beasts in general; for they are said to
shed their canines only. Dogs can be distinguished from one
another, the young from the old, by their teeth; for the teeth in
young dogs are white and sharp-pointed; in old dogs, black and
blunt.
1434
3
In this particular, the horse differs entirely from animals in
general: for, generally speaking, as animals grow older their
teeth get blacker, but the horses teeth grow whiter with age.
The so-called canines come in between the sharp teeth and
the broad or blunt ones, partaking of the form of both kinds; for
they are broad at the base and sharp at the tip.
Males have more teeth than females in the case of men, sheep,
goats, and swine; in the case of other animals observations have
not yet been made: but the more teeth they have the more longlived are they, as a rule, while those are short-lived in
proportion that have teeth fewer in number and thinly set.
4
The last teeth to come in man are molars called wisdom-teeth,
which come at the age of twenty years, in the case of both
sexes. Cases have been known in women upwards. of eighty
years old where at the very close of life the wisdom-teeth have
come up, causing great pain in their coming; and cases have
been known of the like phenomenon in men too. This happens,
when it does happen, in the case of people where the wisdomteeth have not come up in early years.
1435
5
The elephant has four teeth on either side, by which it munches
its food, grinding it like so much barley-meal, and, quite apart
from these, it has its great teeth, or tusks, two in number. In the
male these tusks are comparatively large and curved upwards;
in the female, they are comparatively small and point in the
opposite direction; that is, they look downwards towards the
ground. The elephant is furnished with teeth at birth, but the
tusks are not then visible.
6
The tongue of the elephant is exceedingly small, and situated
far back in the mouth, so that it is difficult to get a sight of it.
7
Furthermore, animals differ from one another in the relative
size of their mouths. In some animals the mouth opens wide, as
is the case with the dog, the lion, and with all the saw-toothed
animals; other animals have small mouths, as man; and others
have mouths of medium capacity, as the pig and his congeners.
(The Egyptian hippopotamus has a mane like a horse, is clovenfooted like an ox, and is snub-nosed. It has a huckle-bone like
cloven-footed animals, and tusks just visible; it has the tail of a
pig, the neigh of a horse, and the dimensions of an ass. The hide
is so thick that spears are made out of it. In its internal organs it
resembles the horse and the ass.)
1436
8
Some animals share the properties of man and the quadrupeds,
as the ape, the monkey, and the baboon. The monkey is a tailed
ape. The baboon resembles the ape in form, only that it is bigger
and stronger, more like a dog in face, and is more savage in its
habits, and its teeth are more dog-like and more powerful.
Apes are hairy on the back in keeping with their quadrupedal
nature, and hairy on the belly in keeping with their human form
for, as was said above, this characteristic is reversed in man
and the quadruped only that the hair is coarse, so that the ape
is thickly coated both on the belly and on the back. Its face
resembles that of man in many respects; in other words, it has
similar nostrils and ears, and teeth like those of man, both front
teeth and molars. Further, whereas quadrupeds in general are
not furnished with lashes on one of the two eyelids, this
creature has them on both, only very thinly set, especially the
under ones; in fact they are very insignificant indeed. And we
must bear in mind that all other quadrupeds have no under
eyelash at all.
The ape has also in its chest two teats upon poorly developed
breasts. It has also arms like man, only covered with hair, and it
bends these legs like man, with the convexities of both limbs
facing one another. In addition, it has hands and fingers and
nails like man, only that all these parts are somewhat more
beast-like in appearance. Its feet are exceptional in kind. That is,
they are like large hands, and the toes are like fingers, with the
middle one the longest of all, and the under part of the foot is
like a hand except for its length, and stretches out towards the
extremities like the palm of the hand; and this palm at the after
1437
9
The monkey, as has been observed, is furnished with a tail. In
all such creatures the internal organs are found under
dissection to correspond to those of man.
So much then for the properties of the organs of such animals
as bring forth their young into the world alive.
1438
10
Oviparous and blooded quadrupeds and, by the way, no
terrestrial blooded animal is oviparous unless it is quadrupedal
or is devoid of feet altogether are furnished with a head, a
neck, a back, upper and under parts, the front legs and hind
legs, and the part analogous to the chest, all as in the case of
viviparous quadrupeds, and with a tail, usually large, in
exceptional cases small. And all these creatures are many-toed,
and the several toes are cloven apart. Furthermore, they all have
the ordinary organs of sensation, including a tongue, with the
exception of the Egyptian crocodile.
This latter animal, by the way, resembles certain fishes. For, as a
general rule, fishes have a prickly tongue, not free in its
movements; though there are some fishes that present a
smooth undifferentiated surface where the tongue should be,
until you open their mouths wide and make a close inspection.
Again, oviparous blooded quadrupeds are unprovided with ears,
but possess only the passage for hearing; neither have they
breasts, nor a copulatory organ, nor external testicles, but
internal ones only; neither are they hair coated, but are in all
cases covered with scaly plates. Moreover, they are without
exception saw-toothed.
River crocodiles have pigs eyes, large teeth and tusks, and
strong nails, and an impenetrable skin composed of scaly
plates. They see but poorly under water, but above the surface of
it with remarkable acuteness. As a rule, they pass the day-time
on land and the nighttime in the water; for the temperature of
the water is at night-time more genial than that of the open air.
1439
11
The chameleon resembles the lizard in the general
configuration of its body, but the ribs stretch downwards and
meet together under the belly as is the case with fishes, and the
spine sticks up as with the fish. Its face resembles that of the
baboon. Its tail is exceedingly long, terminates in a sharp point,
and is for the most part coiled up, like a strap of leather. It
stands higher off the ground than the lizard, but the flexure of
the legs is the same in both creatures. Each of its feet is divided
into two parts, which bear the same relation to one another that
the thumb and the rest of the hand bear to one another in man.
Each of these parts is for a short distance divided after a fashion
into toes; on the front feet the inside part is divided into three
and the outside into two, on the hind feet the inside part into
two and the outside into three; it has claws also on these parts
resembling those of birds of prey. Its body is rough all over, like
that of the crocodile. Its eyes are situated in a hollow recess, and
are very large and round, and are enveloped in a skin
resembling that which covers the entire body; and in the middle
a slight aperture is left for vision, through which the animal
sees, for it never covers up this aperture with the cutaneous
envelope. It keeps twisting its eyes round and shifting its line of
vision in every direction, and thus contrives to get a sight of any
object that it wants to see. The change in its colour takes place
when it is inflated with air; it is then black, not unlike the
crocodile, or green like the lizard but black-spotted like the pard.
This change of colour takes place over the whole body alike, for
the eyes and the tail come alike under its influence. In its
movements it is very sluggish, like the tortoise. It assumes a
greenish hue in dying, and retains this hue after death. It
resembles the lizard in the position of the oesophagus and the
windpipe. It has no flesh anywhere except a few scraps of flesh
on the head and on the jaws and near to the root of the tail. It
has blood only round about the heart, the eyes, the region above
1440
the heart, and in all the veins extending from these parts; and
in all these there is but little blood after all. The brain is situated
a little above the eyes, but connected with them. When the
outer skin is drawn aside from off the eye, a something is found
surrounding the eye, that gleams through like a thin ring of
copper. Membranes extend well nigh over its entire frame,
numerous and strong, and surpassing in respect of number and
relative strength those found in any other animal. After being
cut open along its entire length it continues to breathe for a
considerable time; a very slight motion goes on in the region of
the heart, and, while contraction is especially manifested in the
neighbourhood of the ribs, a similar motion is more or less
discernible over the whole body. It has no spleen visible. It
hibernates, like the lizard.
12
Birds also in some parts resemble the above mentioned
animals; that is to say, they have in all cases a head, a neck, a
back, a belly, and what is analogous to the chest. The bird is
remarkable among animals as having two feet, like man; only,
by the way, it bends them backwards as quadrupeds bend their
hind legs, as was noticed previously. It has neither hands nor
front feet, but wings an exceptional structure as compared
with other animals. Its haunch-bone is long, like a thigh, and is
attached to the body as far as the middle of the belly; so like to
a thigh is it that when viewed separately it looks like a real one,
while the real thigh is a separate structure betwixt it and the
shin. Of all birds those that have crooked talons have the
biggest thighs and the strongest breasts. All birds are furnished
with many claws, and all have the toes separated more or less
asunder; that is to say, in the greater part the toes are clearly
1441
1442
full length. All are furnished with a tongue, but the organ is
variable, being long in some birds and broad in others. Certain
species of birds above all other animals, and next after man,
possess the faculty of uttering articulate sounds; and this
faculty is chiefly developed in broad-tongued birds. No
oviparous creature has an epiglottis over the windpipe, but
these animals so manage the opening and shutting of the
windpipe as not to allow any solid substance to get down into
the lung.
Some species of birds are furnished additionally with spurs, but
no bird with crooked talons is found so provided. The birds with
talons are among those that fly well, but those that have spurs
are among the heavy-bodied.
Again, some birds have a crest. As a general rule the crest sticks
up, and is composed of feathers only; but the crest of the barndoor cock is exceptional in kind, for, whereas it is not just
exactly flesh, at the same time it is not easy to say what else it
is.
13
Of water animals the genus of fishes constitutes a single group
apart from the rest, and including many diverse forms.
In the first place, the fish has a head, a back, a belly, in the
neighbourhood of which last are placed the stomach and
viscera; and behind it has a tail of continuous, undivided shape,
but not, by the way, in all cases alike. No fish has a neck, or any
limb, or testicles at all, within or without, or breasts. But, by the
way this absence of breasts may predicated of all nonviviparous animals; and in point of fact viviparous animals are
1443
not in all cases provided with the organ, excepting such as are
directly viviparous without being first oviparous. Thus the
dolphin is directly viviparous, and accordingly we find it
furnished with two breasts, not situated high up, but in the
neighbourhood of the genitals. And this creature is not
provided, like quadrupeds, with visible teats, but has two vents,
one on each flank, from which the milk flows; and its young
have to follow after it to get suckled, and this phenomenon has
been actually witnessed.
Fishes, then, as has been observed, have no breasts and no
passage for the genitals visible externally. But they have an
exceptional organ in the gills, whereby, after taking the water in
the mouth, they discharge it again; and in the fins, of which the
greater part have four, and the lanky ones two, as, for instance,
the eel, and these two situated near to the gills. In like manner
the grey mullet as, for instance, the mullet found in the lake at
Siphae have only two fins; and the same is the case with the
fish called Ribbon-fish. Some of the lanky fishes have no fins at
all, such as the muraena, nor gills articulated like those of other
fish.
And of those fish that are provided with gills, some have
coverings for this organ, whereas all the selachians have the
organ unprotected by a cover. And those fishes that have
coverings or opercula for the gills have in all cases their gills
placed sideways; whereas, among selachians, the broad ones
have the gills down below on the belly, as the torpedo and the
ray, while the lanky ones have the organ placed sideways, as is
the case in all the dog-fish.
The fishing-frog has gills placed sideways, and covered not with
a spiny operculum, as in all but the selachian fishes, but with
one of skin.
1444
Morever, with fishes furnished with gills, the gills in some cases
are simple in others duplicate; and the last gill in the direction
of the body is always simple. And, again, some fishes have few
gills, and others have a great number; but all alike have the
same number on both sides. Those that have the least number
have one gill on either side, and this one duplicate, like the
boar-fish; others have two on either side, one simple and the
other duplicate, like the conger and the scarus; others have four
on either side, simple, as the elops, the synagris, the muraena,
and the eel; others have four, all, with the exception of the
hindmost one, in double rows, as the wrasse, the perch, the
sheat-fish, and the carp. The dog-fish have all their gills double,
five on a side; and the sword-fish has eight double gills. So
much for the number of gills as found in fishes.
Again, fishes differ from other animals in more ways than as
regards the gills. For they are not covered with hairs as are
viviparous land animals, nor, as is the case with certain
oviparous quadrupeds, with tessellated scutes, nor, like birds,
with feathers; but for the most part they are covered with
scales. Some few are rough-skinned, while the smooth-skinned
are very few indeed. Of the Selachia some are rough-skinned
and some smooth-skinned; and among the smooth-skinned
fishes are included the conger, the eel, and the tunny.
All fishes are saw-toothed excepting the scarus; and the teeth
in all cases are sharp and set in many rows, and in some cases
are placed on the tongue. The tongue is hard and spiny, and so
firmly attached that fishes in many instances seem to be devoid
of the organ altogether. The mouth in some cases is widestretched, as it is with some viviparous quadrupeds....
With regard to organs of sense, all save eyes, fishes possess
none of them, neither the organs nor their passages, neither
ears nor nostrils; but all fishes are furnished with eyes, and the
1445
eyes devoid of lids, though the eyes are not hard; with regard to
the organs connected with the other senses, hearing and smell,
they are devoid alike of the organs themselves and of passages
indicative of them.
Fishes without exception are supplied with blood. Some of them
are oviparous, and some viviparous; scaly fish are invariably
oviparous, but cartilaginous fishes are all viviparous, with the
single exception of the fishing-frog.
14
Of blooded animals there now remains the serpent genus. This
genus is common to both elements, for, while most species
comprehended therein are land animals, a small minority, to
wit the aquatic species, pass their lives in fresh water. There are
also sea-serpents, in shape to a great extent resembling their
congeners of the land, with this exception that the head in their
case is somewhat like the head of the conger; and there are
several kinds of sea-serpent, and the different kinds differ in
colour; these animals are not found in very deep water.
Serpents, like fish, are devoid of feet.
There are also sea-scolopendras, resembling in shape their land
congeners, but somewhat less in regard to magnitude. These
creatures are found in the neighbourhood of rocks; as compared
with their land congeners they are redder in colour, are
furnished with feet in greater numbers and with legs of more
delicate structure. And the same remark applies to them as to
the sea-serpents, that they are not found in very deep water.
Of fishes whose habitat is in the vicinity of rocks there is a tiny
one, which some call the Echeneis, or ship-holder, and which
1446
15
As for the properties of the internal organs, these we must first
discuss in the case of the animals that are supplied with blood.
For the principal genera differ from the rest of animals, in that
the former are supplied with blood and the latter are not; and
the former include man, viviparous and oviparous quadrupeds,
birds, fishes, cetaceans, and all the others that come under no
general designation by reason of their not forming genera, but
groups of which simply the specific name is predicable, as when
we say the serpent, the crocodile.
All viviparous quadrupeds, then, are furnished with an
oesophagus and a windpipe, situated as in man; the same
statement is applicable to oviparous quadrupeds and to birds,
only that the latter present diversities in the shapes of these
organs. As a general rule, all animals that take up air and
breathe it in and out are furnished with a lung, a windpipe, and
an oesophagus, with the windpipe and oesophagus not
admitting of diversity in situation but admitting of diversity in
properties, and with the lung admitting of diversity in both
these respects. Further, all blooded animals have a heart and a
diaphragm or midriff; but in small animals the existence of the
1447
1448
grow all together in a cluster, and they are usually about twenty
in number.
Deer then, as has been observed, are without a gall-bladder;
their gut, however, is so bitter that even hounds refuse to eat it
unless the animal is exceptionally fat. With the elephant also
the liver is unfurnished with a gall-bladder, but when the
animal is cut in the region where the organ is found in animals
furnished with it, there oozes out a fluid resembling gall, in
greater or less quantities. Of animals that take in sea-water and
are furnished with a lung, the dolphin is unprovided with a gallbladder. Birds and fishes all have the organ, as also oviparous
quadrupeds, all to a greater or a lesser extent. But of fishes
some have the organ close to the liver, as the dogfishes, the
sheat-fish, the rhine or angel-fish, the smooth skate, the
torpedo, and, of the lanky fishes, the eel, the pipe-fish, and the
hammer-headed shark. The callionymus, also, has the gallbladder close to the liver, and in no other fish does the organ
attain so great a relative size. Other fishes have the organ close
to the gut, attached to the liver by certain extremely fine ducts.
The bonito has the gall-bladder stretched alongside the gut and
equalling it in length, and often a double fold of it. others have
the organ in the region of the gut; in some cases far off, in
others near; as the fishing-frog, the elops, the synagris, the
muraena, and the sword-fish. Often animals of the same species
show this diversity of position; as, for instance, some congers
are found with the organ attached close to the liver, and others
with it detached from and below it. The case is much the same
with birds: that is, some have the gall-bladder close to the
stomach, and others close to the gut, as the pigeon, the raven,
the quail, the swallow, and the sparrow; some have it near at
once to the liver and to the stomach as the aegocephalus;
others have it near at once to the liver and the gut, as the falcon
and the kite.
1449
16
Again, all viviparous quadrupeds are furnished with kidneys
and a bladder. Of the ovipara that are not quadrupedal there is
no instance known of an animal, whether fish or bird, provided
with these organs. Of the ovipara that are quadrupedal, the
turtle alone is provided with these organs of a magnitude to
correspond with the other organs of the animal. In the turtle
the kidney resembles the same organ in the ox; that is to say, it
looks one single organ composed of a number of small ones.
(The bison also resembles the ox in all its internal parts).
17
With all animals that are furnished with these parts, the parts
are similarly situated, and with the exception of man, the heart
is in the middle; in man, however, as has been observed, the
heart is placed a little to the left-hand side. In all animals the
pointed end of the heart turns frontwards; only in fish it would
at first sight seem otherwise, for the pointed end is turned not
towards the breast, but towards the head and the mouth. And
(in fish) the apex is attached to a tube just where the right and
left gills meet together. There are other ducts extending from
the heart to each of the gills, greater in the greater fish, lesser in
the lesser; but in the large fishes the duct at the pointed end of
the heart is a tube, white-coloured and exceedingly thick. Fishes
in some few cases have an oesophagus, as the conger and the
eel; and in these the organ is small.
1450
1451
downwards along the lung, from the midriff to the big stomach
(or paunch); and this stomach is rough inside and semipartitioned. And connected with it near to the entry of the
oesophagus is what from its appearance is termed the
reticulum (or honeycomb bag); for outside it is like the
stomach, but inside it resembles a netted cap; and the
reticulum is a great deal smaller than the stomach. Connected
with this is the echinus (or many-plies), rough inside and
laminated, and of about the same size as the reticulum. Next
after this comes what is called the enystrum (or abomasum),
larger an longer than the echinus, furnished inside with
numerous folds or ridges, large and smooth. After all this comes
the gut.
Such is the stomach of those quadrupeds that are horned and
have an unsymmetrical dentition; and these animals differ one
from another in the shape and size of the parts, and in the fact
of the oesophagus reaching the stomach centralwise in some
cases and sideways in others. Animals that are furnished
equally with teeth in both jaws have one stomach; as man, the
pig, the dog, the bear, the lion, the wolf. (The Thos, by the by, has
all its internal organs similar to the wolfs.)
All these, then have a single stomach, and after that the gut; but
the stomach in some is comparatively large, as in the pig and
bear, and the stomach of the pig has a few smooth folds or
ridges; others have a much smaller stomach, not much bigger
than the gut, as the lion, the dog, and man. In the other animals
the shape of the stomach varies in the direction of one or other
of those already mentioned; that is, the stomach in some
animals resembles that of the pig; in others that of the dog,
alike with the larger animals and the smaller ones. In all these
animals diversities occur in regard to the size, the shape, the
thickness or the thinness of the stomach, and also in regard to
the place where the oesophagus opens into it.
1452
1453
1454
the tails of saurians and of serpents, if they be cut off, will grow
again.
With fishes the properties of the gut and stomach are similar;
that is, they have a stomach single and simple, but variable in
shape according to species. For in some cases the stomach is
gut-shaped, as with the scarus, or parrot-fish; which fish, by the
way, appears to be the only fish that chews the cud. And the
whole length of the gut is simple, and if it have a reduplication
or kink it loosens out again into a simple form.
An exceptional property in fishes and in birds for the most part
is the being furnished with gut-appendages or caeca. Birds have
them low down and few in number. Fishes have them high up
about the stomach, and sometimes numerous, as in the goby,
the galeos, the perch, the scorpaena, the citharus, the red
mullet, and the sparus; the cestreus or grey mullet has several
of them on one side of the belly, and on the other side only one.
Some fish possess these appendages but only in small numbers,
as the hepatus and the glaucus; and, by the way, they are few
also in the dorado. These fishes differ also from one another
within the same species, for in the dorado one individual has
many and another few. Some fishes are entirely without the
part, as the majority of the selachians. As for all the rest, some
of them have a few and some a great many. And in all cases
where the gut-appendages are found in fish, they are found
close up to the stomach.
In regard to their internal parts birds differ from other animals
and from one another. Some birds, for instance, have a crop in
front of the stomach, as the barn-door cock, the cushat, the
pigeon, and the partridge; and the crop consists of a large
hollow skin, into which the food first enters and where it lies
ingested. Just where the crop leaves the oesophagus it is
somewhat narrow; by and by it broadens out, but where it
1455
1456
Book III
1
Now that we have stated the magnitudes, the properties, and
the relative differences of the other internal organs, it remains
for us to treat of the organs that contribute to generation. These
organs in the female are in all cases internal; in the male they
present numerous diversities.
In the blooded animals some males are altogether devoid of
testicles, and some have the organ but situated internally; and
of those males that have the organ internally situated, some
have it close to the loin in the neighbourhood of the kidney and
others close to the belly. Other males have the organ situated
externally. In the case of these last, the penis is in some cases
attached to the belly, whilst in others it is loosely suspended, as
is the case also with the testicles; and, in the cases where the
penis is attached to the belly, the attachment varies accordingly
as the animal is emprosthuretic or opisthuretic.
No fish is furnished with testicles, nor any other creature that
has gills, nor any serpent whatever: nor, in short, any animal
devoid of feet, save such only as are viviparous within
themselves. Birds are furnished with testicles, but these are
internally situated, close to the loin. The case is similar with
oviparous quadrupeds, such as the lizard, the tortoise and the
crocodile; and among the viviparous animals this peculiarity is
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
the eggs is at the top close to the midriff. With animals devoid
of feet that are internally oviparous and viviparous externally,
as is the case with the dogfish and the other so-called
Selachians (and by this title we designate such creatures
destitute of feet and furnished with gills as are viviparous), with
these animals the womb is bifurcate, and beginning down below
it extends as far as the midriff, as in the case of birds. There is
also a narrow part between the two horns running up as far as
the midriff, and the eggs are engendered here and above at the
origin of the midriff; afterwards they pass into the wider space
and turn from eggs into young animals. However, the
differences in respect to the wombs of these fishes as compared
with others of their own species or with fishes in general, would
be more satisfactorily studied in their various forms in
specimens under dissection.
The members of the serpent genus also present divergencies
either when compared with the above-mentioned creatures or
with one another. Serpents as a rule are oviparous, the viper
being the only viviparous member of the genus. The viper is,
previously to external parturition, oviparous internally; and
owing to this perculiarity the properties of the womb in the
viper are similar to those of the womb in the selachians. The
womb of the serpent is long, in keeping with the body, and
starting below from a single duct extends continuously on both
sides of the spine, so as to give the impression of thus being a
separate duct on each side of the spine, until it reaches the
midriff, where the eggs are engendered in a row; and these eggs
are laid not one by one, but all strung together. (And all animals
that are viviparous both internally and externally have the
womb situated above the stomach, and all the ovipara
underneath, near to the loin. Animals that are viviparous
externally and internally oviparous present an intermediate
arrangement; for the underneath portion of the womb, in which
1462
the eggs are, is placed near to the loin, but the part about the
orifice is above the gut.)
Further, there is the following diversity observable in wombs as
compared with one another: namely that the females of horned
nonambidental animals are furnished with cotyledons in the
womb when they are pregnant, and such is the case, among
ambidentals, with the hare, the mouse, and the bat; whereas all
other animals that are ambidental, viviparous, and furnished
with feet, have the womb quite smooth, and in their case the
attachment of the embryo is to the womb itself and not to any
cotyledon inside it.
The parts, then, in animals that are not homogeneous with
themselves and uniform in their texture, both parts external
and parts internal, have the properties above assigned to them.
2
In sanguineous animals the homogeneous or uniform part most
universally found is the blood, and its habitat the vein; next in
degree of universality, their analogues, lymph and fibre, and,
that which chiefly constitutes the frame of animals, flesh and
whatsoever in the several parts is analogous to flesh; then bone,
and parts that are analogous to bone, as fish-bone and gristle;
and then, again, skin, membrane, sinew, hair, nails, and
whatever corresponds to these; and, furthermore, fat, suet, and
the excretions: and the excretions are dung, phlegm, yellow bile,
and black bile.
Now, as the nature of blood and the nature of the veins have all
the appearance of being primitive, we must discuss their
properties first of all, and all the more as some previous writers
1463
1464
each to the hand on its side: of these two, one being termed the
vein splenitis, and the other the vein hepatitis. Each of the pair
splits at its extremity; the one branches in the direction of the
thumb and the other in the direction of the palm; and from
these run off a number of minute veins branching off to the
fingers and to all parts of the hand. Other veins, more minute,
extend from the main veins; from that on the right towards the
liver, from that on the left towards the spleen and the kidneys.
The veins that run to the legs split at the juncture of the legs
with the trunk and extend right down the thigh. The largest of
these goes down the thigh at the back of it, and can be
discerned and traced as a big one; the second one runs inside
the thigh, not quite as big as the one just mentioned. After this
they pass on along the knee to the shin and the foot (as the
upper veins were described as passing towards the hands), and
arrive at the sole of the foot, and from thence continue to the
toes. Moreover, many delicate veins separate off from the great
veins towards the stomach and towards the ribs.
The veins that run through the throat to the head can be
discerned and traced in the neck as large ones; and from each
one of the two, where it terminates, there branch off a number
of veins to the head; some from the right side towards the left,
and some from the left side towards the right; and the two veins
terminate near to each of the two ears. There is another pair of
veins in the neck running along the big vein on either side,
slightly less in size than the pair just spoken of, and with these
the greater part of the veins in the head are connected. This
other pair runs through the throat inside; and from either one
of the two there extend veins in underneath the shoulder blade
and towards the hands; and these appear alongside the veins
splenitis and hepatitis as another pair of veins smaller in size.
When there is a pain near the surface of the body, the physician
lances these two latter veins; but when the pain is within and in
the region of the stomach he lances the veins splenitis and
1465
hepatitis. And from these, other veins depart to run below the
breasts.
There is also another pair running on each side through the
spinal marrow to the testicles, thin and delicate. There is,
further, a pair running a little underneath the cuticle through
the flesh to the kidneys, and these with men terminate at the
testicle, and with women at the womb. These veins are termed
the spermatic veins. The veins that leave the stomach are
comparatively broad just as they leave; but they become
gradually thinner, until they change over from right to left and
from left to right.
Blood is thickest when it is imbibed by the fleshy parts; when it
is transmitted to the organs above-mentioned, it becomes thin,
warm, and frothy.
3
Such are the accounts given by Syennesis and Diogenes. Polybus
writes to the following effect:
There are four pairs of veins. The first extends from the back of
the head, through the neck on the outside, past the backbone on
either side, until it reaches the loins and passes on to the legs,
after which it goes on through the shins to the outer side of the
ankles and on to the feet. And it is on this account that
surgeons, for pains in the back and loin, bleed in the ham and in
the outer side of the ankle. Another pair of veins runs from the
head, past ears, through the neck; which veins are termed the
jugular veins. This pair goes on inside along the backbone, past
the muscles of the loins, on to the testicles, and onwards to the
thighs, and through the inside of the hams and through the
1466
shins down to the inside of the ankles and to the feet; and for
this reason, surgeons, for pains in the muscles of the loins and
in the testicles, bleed on the hams and the inner side of the
ankles. The third pair extends from the temples, through the
neck, in underneath the shoulder-blades, into the lung; those
from right to left going in underneath the breast and on to the
spleen and the kidney; those from left to right running from the
lung in underneath the breast and into the liver and the kidney;
and both terminate in the fundament. The fourth pair extend
from the front part of the head and the eyes in underneath the
neck and the collar-bones; from thence they stretch on through
the upper part of the upper arms to the elbows and then
through the fore-arms on to the wrists and the jointings of the
fingers, and also through the lower part of the upper-arms to
the armpits, and so on, keeping above the ribs, until one of the
pair reaches the spleen and the other reaches the liver; and
after this they both pass over the stomach and terminate at the
penis.
The above quotations sum up pretty well the statements of all
previous writers. Furthermore, there are some writers on
Natural History who have not ventured to lay down the law in
such precise terms as regards the veins, but who all alike agree
in assigning the head and the brain as the starting-point of the
veins. And in this opinion they are mistaken.
The investigation of such a subject, as has been remarked, is
one fraught with difficulties; but, if any one be keenly interested
in the matter, his best plan will be to allow his animals to starve
to emaciation, then to strangle them on a sudden, and
thereupon to prosecute his investigations.
We now proceed to give particulars regarding the properties and
functions of the veins. There are two blood-vessels in the thorax
by the backbone, and lying to its inner side; and of these two
1467
the larger one is situated to the front, and the lesser one is to
the rear of it; and the larger is situated rather to the right hand
side of the body, and the lesser one to the left; and by some this
vein is termed the aorta, from the fact that even in dead bodies
part of it is observed to be full of air. These blood-vessels have
their origins in the heart, for they traverse the other viscera, in
whatever direction they happen to run, without in any way
losing their distinctive characteristic as blood-vessels, whereas
the heart is as it were a part of them (and that too more in
respect to the frontward and larger one of the two), owing to the
fact that these two veins are above and below, with the heart
lying midway.
The heart in all animals has cavities inside it. In the case of the
smaller animals even the largest of the chambers is scarcely
discernible; the second larger is scarcely discernible in animals
of medium size; but in the largest animals all three chambers
are distinctly seen. In the heart then (with its pointed end
directed frontwards, as has been observed) the largest of the
three chambers is on the right-hand side and highest up; the
least one is on the left-hand side; and the medium-sized one
lies in betwixt the other two; and the largest one of the three
chambers is a great deal larger than either of the two others. All
three, however, are connected with passages leading in the
direction of the lung, but all these communications are
indistinctly discernible by reason of their minuteness, except
one.
The great blood-vessel, then, is attached to the biggest of the
three chambers, the one that lies uppermost and on the righthand side; it then extends right through the chamber, coming
out as blood-vessel again; just as though the cavity of the heart
were a part of the vessel, in which the blood broadens its
channel as a river that widens out in a lake. The aorta is
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1469
1470
4
And in like manner the parts of the lesser one of the two chief
blood-vessels, designated the aorta, branch off, accompanying
the branches from the big vein; only that, in regard to the aorta,
the passages are less in size, and the branches very considerably
less than are those of the great vein. So much for the veins as
observed in the regions above the heart.
The part of the great vein that lies underneath the heart
extends, freely suspended, right through the midriff, and is
united both to the aorta and the backbone by slack
membranous communications. From it one vein, short and
wide, extends through the liver, and from it a number of minute
veins branch off into the liver and disappear. From the vein that
passes through the liver two branches separate off, of which
one terminates in the diaphragm or so-called midriff, and the
other runs up again through the armpit into the right arm and
unites with the other veins at the inside of the bend of the arm;
and it is in consequence of this local connexion that, when the
surgeon opens this vein in the forearm, the patient is relieved of
certain pains in the liver; and from the left-hand side of it there
extends a short but thick vein to the spleen and the little veins
branching off it disappear in that organ. Another part branches
off from the left-hand side of the great vein, and ascends, by a
course similar to the course recently described, into the left
arm; only that the ascending vein in the one case is the vein
that traverses the liver, while in this case it is distinct from the
vein that runs into the spleen. Again, other veins branch off
from the big vein; one to the omentum, and another to the
pancreas, from which vein run a number of veins through the
mesentery. All these veins coalesce in a single large vein, along
1471
1472
1473
5
The sinews of animals have the following properties. For these
also the point of origin is the heart; for the heart has sinews
within itself in the largest of its three chambers, and the aorta is
a sinew-like vein; in fact, at its extremity it is actually a sinew,
for it is there no longer hollow, and is stretched like the sinews
where they terminate at the jointings of the bones. Be it
remembered, however, that the sinews do not proceed in
unbroken sequence from one point of origin, as do the bloodvessels.
For the veins have the shape of the entire body, like a sketch of
a mannikin; in such a way that the whole frame seems to be
filled up with little veins in attenuated subjects for the space
occupied by flesh in fat individuals is filled with little veins in
thin ones whereas the sinews are distributed about the joints
and the flexures of the bones. Now, if the sinews were derived in
unbroken sequence from a common point of departure, this
continuity would be discernible in attenuated specimens.
In the ham, or the part of the frame brought into full play in the
effort of leaping, is an important system of sinews; and another
sinew, a double one, is that called the tendon, and others are
those brought into play when a great effort of physical strength
is required; that is to say, the epitonos or back-stay and the
shoulder-sinews. Other sinews, devoid of specific designation,
are situated in the region of the flexures of the bones; for all the
bones that are attached to one another are bound together by
sinews, and a great quantity of sinews are placed in the
neighbourhood of all the bones. Only, by the way, in the head
there is no sinew; but the head is held together by the sutures
of the bones.
Sinew is fissile lengthwise, but crosswise it is not easily broken,
but admits of a considerable amount of hard tension. In
1474
6
The ines (or fibrous connective tissue) are a something
intermediate between sinew and vein. Some of them are
supplied with fluid, the lymph; and they pass from sinew to
vein and from vein to sinew. There is another kind of ines or
fibre that is found in blood, but not in the blood of all animals
alike. If this fibre be left in the blood, the blood will coagulate; if
it be removed or extracted, the blood is found to be incapable of
coagulation. While, however, this fibrous matter is found in the
blood of the great majority of animals, it is not found in all. For
instance, we fail to find it in the blood of the deer, the roe, the
antelope, and some other animals; and, owing to this deficiency
of the fibrous tissue, the blood of these animals does not
1475
7
The bones in animals are all connected with one single bone,
and are interconnected, like the veins, in one unbroken
sequence; and there is no instance of a bone standing apart by
itself. In all animals furnished with bones, the spine or
backbone is the point of origin for the entire osseous system.
The spine is composed of vertebrae, and it extends from the
head down to the loins. The vertebrae are all perforated, and,
above, the bony portion of the head is connected with the
topmost vertebrae, and is designated the skull. And the
serrated lines on the skull are termed sutures.
The skull is not formed alike in all animals. In some animals the
skull consists of one single undivided bone, as in the case of the
dog; in others it is composite in structure, as in man; and in the
human species the suture is circular in the female, while in the
male it is made up of three separate sutures, uniting above in
three-corner fashion; and instances have been known of a
mans skull being devoid of suture altogether. The skull is
composed not of four bones, but of six; two of these are in the
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1478
8
Gristle is of the same nature as bone, but differs from it in the
way of relative excess or relative defect. And just like bone,
cartilage also, if cut, does not grow again. In terrestrial
viviparous sanguinea the gristle formations are unperforated,
and there is no marrow in them as there is in bones; in the
selachia, however for, be it observed, they are gristle-spined
there is found in the case of the flat space in the region of the
backbone, a gristle-like substance analogous to bone, and in this
gristle-like substance there is a liquid resembling marrow. In
viviparous animals furnished with feet, gristle formations are
found in the region of the ears, in the nostrils, and around
certain extremities of the bones.
9
Furthermore, there are parts of other kinds, neither identical
with, nor altogether diverse from, the parts above enumerated:
such as nails, hooves, claws, and horns; and also, by the way,
beaks, such as birds are furnished with all in the several
animals that are furnished therewithal. All these parts are
flexible and fissile; but bone is neither flexible nor fissile, but
frangible.
And the colours of horns and nails and claw and hoof follow the
colour of the skin and the hair. For according as the skin of an
animal is black, or white, or of medium hue, so are the horns,
the claws, or the hooves, as the case may be, of hue to match.
And it is the same with nails. The teeth, however, follow after
the bones. Thus in black men, such as the Aethiopians and the
like, the teeth and bones are white, but the nails are black, like
the whole of the skin.
1479
10
The following are the properties of hair and of parts analogous
to hair, and of skin or hide. All viviparous animals furnished
with feet have hair; all oviparous animals furnished with feet
have horn-like tessellates; fishes, and fishes only, have scales
that is, such oviparous fishes as have the crumbling egg or roe.
For of the lanky fishes, the conger has no such egg, nor the
muraena, and the eel has no egg at all.
The hair differs in the way of thickness and fineness, and of
length, according to the locality of the part in which it is found,
1480
11
Hair is naturally fissile, and in this respect it differs in degree in
diverse animals. In some animals the hair goes on gradually
hardening into bristle until it no longer resembles hair but
spine, as in the case of the hedgehog. And in like manner with
the nails; for in some animals the nail differs as regards solidity
in no way from bone.
Of all animals man has the most delicate skin: that is, if we take
into consideration his relative size. In the skin or hide of all
animals there is a mucous liquid, scanty in some animals and
plentiful in others, as, for instance, in the hide of the ox; for
men manufacture glue out of it. (And, by the way, in some cases
glue is manufactured from fishes also.) The skin, when cut, is in
itself devoid of sensation; and this is especially the case with
the skin on the head, owing to there being no flesh between it
and the skull. And wherever the skin is quite by itself, if it be cut
1481
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grows scanty and sheds out to a greater extent and sooner than
all the rest. But this remark applies only to hair in front; for no
man ever gets bald at the back of his head. Smoothness on the
top of the head is termed baldness, but smoothness on the
eyebrows is denoted by a special term which means foreheadbaldness; and neither of these conditions of baldness
supervenes in a man until he shall have come under the
influence of sexual passion. For no boy ever gets bald, no
woman, and no castrated man. In fact, if a man be castrated
before reaching puberty, the later growths of hair never come at
all; and, if the operation take place subsequently, the
aftergrowths, and these only, shed off; or, rather, two of the
growths shed off, but not that on the pubes.
Women do not grow hairs on the chin; except that a scanty
beard grows on some women after the monthly courses have
stopped; and similar phenomenon is observed at times in
priestesses in Caria, but these cases are looked upon as
portentous with regard to coming events. The other aftergrowths are found in women, but more scanty and sparse. Men
and women are at times born constitutionally and congenitally
incapable of the after-growths; and individuals that are
destitute even of the growth upon the pubes are
constitutionally impotent.
Hair as a rule grows more or less in length as the wearer grows
in age; chiefly the hair on the head, then that in the beard, and
fine hair grows longest of all. With some people as they grow
old the eyebrows grow thicker, to such an extent that they have
to be cut off; and this growth is owing to the fact that the
eyebrows are situated at a conjuncture of bones, and these
bones, as age comes on, draw apart and exude a gradual
increase of moisture or rheum. The eyelashes do not grow in
size, but they shed when the wearer comes first under the
influence of sexual feelings, and shed all the quicker as this
1483
influence is the more powerful; and these are the last hairs to
grow grey.
Hairs if plucked out before maturity grow again; but they do not
grow again if plucked out afterwards. Every hair is supplied with
a mucous moisture at its root, and immediately after being
plucked out it can lift light articles if it touch them with this
mucus.
Animals that admit of diversity of colour in the hair admit of a
similar diversity to start with in the skin and in the cuticle of
the tongue.
In some cases among men the upper lip and the chin is thickly
covered with hair, and in other cases these parts are smooth
and the cheeks are hairy; and, by the way, smooth-chinned men
are less inclined than bearded men to baldness.
The hair is inclined to grow in certain diseases, especially in
consumption, and in old age, and after death; and under these
circumstances the hair hardens concomitantly with its growth,
and the same duplicate phenomenon is observable in respect of
the nails.
In the case of men of strong sexual passions the congenital
hairs shed the sooner, while the hairs of the after-growths are
the quicker to come. When men are afflicted with varicose veins
they are less inclined to take on baldness; and if they be bald
when they become thus afflicted, they have a tendency to get
their hair again.
If a hair be cut, it does not grow at the point of section; but it
gets longer by growing upward from below. In fishes the scales
grow harder and thicker with age, and when the amimal gets
emaciated or is growing old the scales grow harder. In
quadrupeds as they grow old the hair in some and the wool in
others gets deeper but scantier in amount: and the hooves or
1484
claws get larger in size; and the same is the case with the beaks
of birds. The claws also increase in size, as do also the nails.
12
With regard to winged animals, such as birds, no creature is
liable to change of colour by reason of age, excepting the crane.
The wings of this bird are ash-coloured at first, but as it grows
old the wings get black. Again, owing to special climatic
influences, as when unusual frost prevails, a change is
sometimes observed to take place in birds whose plumage is of
one uniform colour; thus, birds that have dusky or downright
black plumage turn white or grey, as the raven, the sparrow, and
the swallow; but no case has ever yet been known of a change
of colour from white to black. (Further, most birds change the
colour of their plumage at different seasons of the year, so
much so that a man ignorant of their habits might be mistaken
as to their identity.) Some animals change the colour of their
hair with a change in their drinking-water, for in some
countries the same species of animal is found white in one
district and black in another. And in regard to the commerce of
the sexes, water in many places is of such peculiar quality that
rams, if they have intercourse with the female after drinking it,
beget black lambs, as is the case with the water of the Psychrus
(so-called from its coldness), a river in the district of Assyritis in
the Chalcidic Peninsula, on the coast of Thrace; and in
Antandria there are two rivers of which one makes the lambs
white and the other black. The river Scamander also has the
reputation of making lambs yellow, and that is the reason, they
say, why Homer designates it the Yellow River. Animals as a
general rule have no hair on their internal surfaces, and, in
1485
regard to their extremities, they have hair on the upper, but not
on the lower side.
The hare, or dasypod, is the only animal known to have hair
inside its mouth and underneath its feet. Further, the so-called
mousewhale instead of teeth has hairs in its mouth resembling
pigs bristles.
Hairs after being cut grow at the bottom but not at the top; if
feathers be cut off, they grow neither at top nor bottom, but
shed and fall out. Further, the bees wing will not grow again
after being plucked off, nor will the wing of any creature that
has undivided wings. Neither will the sting grow again if the bee
lose it, but the creature will die of the loss.
13
In all sanguineous animals membranes are found. And
membrane resembles a thin close-textured skin, but its
qualities are different, as it admits neither of cleavage nor of
extension. Membrane envelops each one of the bones and each
one of the viscera, both in the larger and the smaller animals;
though in the smaller animals the membranes are indiscernible
from their extreme tenuity and minuteness. The largest of all
the membranes are the two that surround the brain, and of
these two the one that lines the bony skull is stronger and
thicker than the one that envelops the brain; next in order of
magnitude comes the membrane that encloses the heart. If
membrane be bared and cut asunder it will not grow together
again, and the bone thus stripped of its membrane mortifies.
1486
14
The omentum or caul, by the way, is membrane. All
sanguineous animals are furnished with this organ; but in some
animals the organ is supplied with fat, and in others it is devoid
of it. The omentum has both its starting-point and its
attachment, with ambidental vivipara, in the centre of the
stomach, where the stomach has a kind of suture; in nonambidental vivipara it has its starting-point and attachment in
the chief of the ruminating stomachs.
15
The bladder also is of the nature of membrane, but of
membrane peculiar in kind, for it is extensile. The organ is not
common to all animals, but, while it is found in all the vivipara,
the tortoise is the only oviparous animal that is furnished
therewithal. The bladder, like ordinary membrane, if cut
asunder will not grow together again, unless the section be just
at the commencement of the urethra: except indeed in very rare
cases, for instances of healing have been known to occur. After
death, the organ passes no liquid excretion; but in life, in
addition to the normal liquid excretion, it passes at times dry
excretion also, which turns into stones in the case of sufferers
from that malady. Indeed, instances have been known of
concretions in the bladder so shaped as closely to resemble
cockleshells.
Such are the properties, then, of vein, sinew and skin, of fibre
and membrane, of hair, nail, claw and hoof, of horns, of teeth, of
1487
16
Flesh, and that which is by nature akin to it in sanguineous
animals, is in all cases situated in between the skin and the
bone, or the substance analogous to bone; for just as spine is a
counterpart of bone, so is the flesh-like substance of animals
that are constructed a spinous system the counterpart of the
flesh of animals constructed on an osseous one.
Flesh can be divided asunder in any direction, not lengthwise
only as is the case with sinew and vein. When animals are
subjected to emaciation the flesh disappears, and the creatures
become a mass of veins and fibres; when they are over fed, fat
takes the place of flesh. Where the flesh is abundant in an
animal, its veins are somewhat small and the blood abnormally
red; the viscera also and the stomach are diminutive; whereas
with animals whose veins are large the blood is somewhat
black, the viscera and the stomach are large, and the flesh is
somewhat scanty. And animals with small stomachs are
disposed to take on flesh.
17
Again, fat and suet differ from one another. Suet is frangible in
all directions and congeals if subjected to extreme cold,
whereas fat can melt but cannot freeze or congeal; and soups
made of the flesh of animals supplied with fat do not congeal or
1488
1489
18
The part around the pupil of the eye is fatty in all animals, and
this part resembles suet in all animals that possess such a part
and that are not furnished with hard eyes.
Fat animals, whether male or female, are more or less unfitted
for breeding purposes. Animals are disposed to take on fat more
when old than when young, and especially when they have
attained their full breadth and their full length and are
beginning to grow depthways.
19
And now to proceed to the consideration of the blood. In
sanguineous animals blood is the most universal and the most
indispensable part; and it is not an acquired or adventitious
part, but it is a consubstantial part of all animals that are not
corrupt or moribund. All blood is contained in a vascular
system, to wit, the veins, and is found nowhere else, excepting
in the heart. Blood is not sensitive to touch in any animal, any
more than the excretions of the stomach; and the case is
similar with the brain and the marrow. When flesh is lacerated,
blood exudes, if the animal be alive and unless the flesh be
gangrened. Blood in a healthy condition is naturally sweet to
the taste, and red in colour, blood that deteriorates from natural
decay or from disease more or less black. Blood at its best,
before it undergoes deterioration from either natural decay or
from disease, is neither very thick nor very thin. In the living
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1491
cases blood, when issuing from the veins, does not coagulate at
all, or only here and there. Whilst animals are sleeping the
blood is less abundantly supplied near the exterior surfaces, so
that, if the sleeping creature be pricked with a pin, the blood
does not issue as copiously as it would if the creature were
awake. Blood is developed out of ichor by coction, and fat in like
manner out of blood. If the blood get diseased, haemorrhoids
may ensue in the nostril or at the anus, or the veins may
become varicose. Blood, if it corrupt in the body, has a tendency
to turn into pus, and pus may turn into a solid concretion.
Blood in the female differs from that in the male, for, supposing
the male and female to be on a par as regards age and general
health, the blood in the female is thicker and blacker than in
the male; and with the female there is a comparative
superabundance of it in the interior. Of all female animals the
female in man is the most richly supplied with blood, and of all
female animals the menstruous discharges are the most
copious in woman. The blood of these discharges under disease
turns into flux. Apart from the menstrual discharges, the female
in the human species is less subject to diseases of the blood
than the male.
Women are seldom afflicted with varicose veins, with
haemorrhoids, or with bleeding at the nose, and, if any of these
maladies supervene, the menses are imperfectly discharged.
Blood differs in quantity and appearance according to age; in
very young animals it resembles ichor and is abundant, in the
old it is thick and black and scarce, and in middle-aged animals
its qualities are intermediate. In old animals the blood
coagulates rapidly, even blood at the surface of the body; but
this is not the case with young animals. Ichor is, in fact, nothing
else but unconcocted blood: either blood that has not yet been
concocted, or that has become fluid again.
1492
20
We now proceed to discuss the properties of marrow; for this is
one of the liquids found in certain sanguineous animals. All the
natural liquids of the body are contained in vessels: as blood in
veins, marrow in bones other moistures in membranous
structures of the skin
In young animals the marrow is exceedingly sanguineous, but,
as animals grow old, it becomes fatty in animals supplied with
fat, and suet-like in animals with suet. All bones, however, are
not supplied with marrow, but only the hollow ones, and not all
of these. For of the bones in the lion some contain no marrow at
all, and some are only scantily supplied therewith; and that
accounts, as was previously observed, for the statement made
by certain writers that the lion is marrowless. In the bones of
pigs it is found in small quantities; and in the bones of certain
animals of this species it is not found at all.
These liquids, then, are nearly always congenital in animals, but
milk and sperm come at a later time. Of these latter, that which,
whensoever it is present, is secreted in all cases ready-made, is
the milk; sperm, on the other hand, is not secreted out in all
cases, but in some only, as in the case of what are designated
thori in fishes.
Whatever animals have milk, have it in their breasts. All
animals have breasts that are internally and externally
viviparous, as for instance all animals that have hair, as man
and the horse; and the cetaceans, as the dolphin, the porpoise,
and the whale for these animals have breasts and are supplied
with milk. Animals that are oviparous or only externally
1493
viviparous have neither breasts nor milk, as the fish and the
bird.
All milk is composed of a watery serum called whey, and a
consistent substance called curd (or cheese); and the thicker the
milk, the more abundant the curd. The milk, then, of nonambidentals coagulates, and that is why cheese is made of the
milk of such animals under domestication; but the milk of
ambidentals does not coagulate, nor their fat either, and the
milk is thin and sweet. Now the camels milk is the thinnest,
and that of the human species next after it, and that of the ass
next again, but cows milk is the thickest. Milk does not
coagulate under the influence of cold, but rather runs to whey;
but under the influence of heat it coagulates and thickens. As a
general rule milk only comes to animals in pregnancy. When
the animal is pregnant milk is found, but for a while it is unfit
for use, and then after an interval of usefulness it becomes unfit
for use again. In the case of female animals not pregnant a
small quantity of milk has been procured by the employment of
special food, and cases have been actually known where women
advanced in years on being submitted to the process of milking
have produced milk, and in some cases have produced it in
sufficient quantities to enable them to suckle an infant.
The people that live on and about Mount Oeta take such shegoats as decline the male and rub their udders hard with nettles
to cause an irritation amounting to pain; hereupon they milk
the animals, procuring at first a liquid resembling blood, then a
liquid mixed with purulent matter, and eventually milk, as
freely as from females submitting to the male.
As a general rule, milk is not found in the male of man or of any
other animal, though from time to time it has been found in a
male; for instance, once in Lemnos a he-goat was milked by its
dugs (for it has, by the way, two dugs close to the penis), and
1494
was milked to such effect that cheese was made of the produce,
and the same phenomenon was repeated in a male of its own
begetting. Such occurrences, however, are regarded as
supernatural and fraught with omen as to futurity, and in point
of fact when the Lemnian owner of the animal inquired of the
oracle, the god informed him that the portent foreshadowed the
acquisition of a fortune. With some men, after puberty, milk can
be produced by squeezing the breasts; cases have been known
where on their being subjected to a prolonged milking process a
considerable quantity of milk has been educed.
In milk there is a fatty element, which in clotted milk gets to
resemble oil. Goats milk is mixed with sheeps milk in Sicily,
and wherever sheeps milk is abundant. The best milk for
clotting is not only that where the cheese is most abundant, but
that also where the cheese is driest.
Now some animals produce not only enough milk to rear their
young, but a superfluous amount for general use, for cheesemaking and for storage. This is especially the case with the
sheep and the goat, and next in degree with the cow. Mares
milk, by the way, and milk of the she-ass are mixed in with
Phrygian cheese. And there is more cheese in cows milk than in
goats milk; for graziers tell us that from nine gallons of goats
milk they can get nineteen cheeses at an obol apiece, and from
the same amount of cows milk, thirty. Other animals give only
enough of milk to rear their young withal, and no superfluous
amount and none fitted for cheese-making, as is the case with
all animals that have more than two breasts or dugs; for with
none of such animals is milk produced in superabundance or
used for the manufacture of cheese.
The juice of the fig and rennet are employed to curdle milk. The
fig-juice is first squeezed out into wool; the wool is then washed
and rinsed, and the rinsing put into a little milk, and if this be
1495
21
Rennet then consists of milk with an admixture of fire, which
comes from the natural heat of the animal, as the milk is
concocted. All ruminating animals produce rennet, and, of
ambidentals, the hare. Rennet improves in quality the longer it
is kept; and cows rennet, after being kept a good while, and also
hares rennet, is good for diarrhoea, and the best of all rennet is
that of the young deer.
In milk-producing animals the comparative amount of the yield
varies with the size of the animal and the diversities of
pasturage. For instance, there are in Phasis small cattle that in
all cases give a copious supply of milk, and the large cows in
Epirus yield each one daily some nine gallons of milk, and half
of this from each pair of teats, and the milker has to stand erect,
stooping forward a little, as otherwise, if he were seated, he
would be unable to reach up to the teats. But, with the
exception of the ass, all the quadrupeds in Epirus are of large
size, and relatively, the cattle and the dogs are the largest. Now
large animals require abundant pasture, and this country
supplies just such pasturage, and also supplies diverse pasture
grounds to suit the diverse seasons of the year. The cattle are
particularly large, and likewise the sheep of the so-called
Pyrrhic breed, the name being given in honour of King Pyrrhus.
Some pasture quenches milk, as Median grass or lucerne, and
that especially in ruminants; other feeding renders it copious,
as cytisus and vetch; only, by the way, cytisus in flower is not
recommended, as it has burning properties, and vetch is not
1496
22
All sanguineous animals eject sperm. As to what, and how, it
contributes to generation, these questions will be discussed in
another treatise. Taking the size of his body into account, man
emits more sperm than any other animal. In hairy-coated
animals the sperm is sticky, but in other animals it is not so. It
is white in all cases, and Herodotus is under a misapprehension
when he states that the Aethiopians eject black sperm.
1497
Book IV
1
We have now treated, in regard to blooded animals of the parts
they have in common and of the parts peculiar to this genus or
that, and of the parts both composite and simple, whether
without or within. We now proceed to treat of animals devoid of
blood. These animals are divided into several genera.
One genus consists of so-called molluscs; and by the term
mollusc we mean an animal that, being devoid of blood, has its
flesh-like substance outside, and any hard structure it may
happen to have, inside in this respect resembling the red
blooded animals, such as the genus of the cuttle-fish.
1498
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1500
and the feet short; so short, in fact, that they cannot walk on
them. Compared with one another, the teuthis, or calamary, is
long-shaped, and the sepia flat-shaped; and of the calamaries
the so-called teuthus is much bigger than the teuthis; for teuthi
have been found as much as five ells long. Some sepiae attain a
length of two ells, and the feelers of the octopus are sometimes
as long, or even longer. The species teuthus is not a numerous
one; the teuthus differs from the teuthis in shape; that is, the
sharp extremity of the teuthus is broader than that of the other,
and, further, the encircling fin goes all round the trunk, whereas
it is in part lacking in the teuthis; both animals are pelagic.
In all cases the head comes after the feet, in the middle of the
feet that are called arms or feelers. There is here situated a
mouth, and two teeth in the mouth; and above these two large
eyes, and betwixt the eyes a small cartilage enclosing a small
brain; and within the mouth it has a minute organ of a fleshy
nature, and this it uses as a tongue, for no other tongue does it
possess. Next after this, on the outside, is what looks like a sac;
the flesh of which it is made is divisible, not in long straight
strips, but in annular flakes; and all molluscs have a cuticle
around this flesh. Next after or at the back of the mouth comes
a long and narrow oesophagus, and close after that a crop or
craw, large and spherical, like that of a bird; then comes the
stomach, like the fourth stomach in ruminants; and the shape
of it resembles the spiral convolution in the trumpet-shell; from
the stomach there goes back again, in the direction of the
mouth, thin gut, and the gut is thicker than the oesophagus.
(See diagram.)
Molluscs have no viscera, but they have what is called a mytis,
and on it a vessel containing a thick black juice; in the sepia or
cuttle-fish this vessel is the largest, and this juice is most
abundant. All molluscs, when frightened, discharge such a juice,
but the discharge is most copious in the cuttle-fish. The mytis,
1501
1502
The males of all these animals differ from the females, and the
difference between the sexes is most marked in the sepia; for
the back of the trunk, which is blacker than the belly, is rougher
in the male than in the female, and in the male the back is
striped, and the rump is more sharply pointed.
There are several species of the octopus. One keeps close to the
surface, and is the largest of them all, and near the shore the
size is larger than in deep water; and there are others, small,
variegated in colour, which are not articles of food. There are
two others, one called the heledone, which differs from its
congeners in the length of its legs and in having one row of
suckers all the rest of the molluscs having two, the other
nicknamed variously the bolitaina or the onion, and the ozolis
or the stinkard.
There are two others found in shells resembling those of the
testaceans. One of them is nicknamed by some persons the
nautilus or the pontilus, or by others the polypus egg; and the
shell of this creature is something like a separate valve of a
deep scallop-shell. This polypus lives very often near to the
shore, and is apt to be thrown up high and dry on the beach;
under these circumstances it is found with its shell detached,
and dies by and by on dry land. These polypods are small, and
are shaped, as regards the form of their bodies, like the bolbidia.
There is another polypus that is placed within a shell like a
snail; it never comes out of the shell, but lives inside the shell
like the snail, and from time to time protrudes its feelers.
So much for molluscs.
1503
2
With regard to the Malacostraca or crustaceans, one species is
that of the crawfish, and a second, resembling the first, is that
of the lobster; the lobster differing from the crawfish in having
claws, and in a few other respects as well. Another species is
that of the carid, and another is that of the crab, and there are
many kinds both of carid and of crab.
Of carids there are the so-called cyphae, or hunch-backs, the
crangons, or squillae, and the little kind, or shrimps, and the
little kind do not develop into a larger kind.
Of the crab, the varieties are indefinite and incalculable. The
largest of all crabs is one nicknamed Maia, a second variety is
the pagarus and the crab of Heracleotis, and a third variety is
the fresh-water crab; the other varieties are smaller in size and
destitute of special designations. In the neighbourhood of
Phoenice there are found on the beach certain crabs that are
nicknamed the horsemen, from their running with such speed
that it is difficult to overtake them; these crabs, when opened,
are usually found empty, and this emptiness may be put down
to insufficiency of nutriment. (There is another variety, small
like the crab, but resembling in shape the lobster.) All these
animals, as has been stated, have their hard and shelly part
outside, where the skin is in other animals, and the fleshy part
inside; and the belly is more or less provided with lamellae, or
little flaps, and the female here deposits her spawn.
The crawfishes have five feet on either side, including the claws
at the end; and in like manner the crabs have ten feet in all,
including the claws. Of the carids, the hunch-backed, or prawns,
have five feet on either side, which are sharp-pointed those
towards the head; and five others on either side in the region of
the belly, with their extremities flat; they are devoid of flaps on
the under side such as the crawfish has, but on the back they
1504
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1506
not rough as in the crawfish; but on the large claws the outer
portion has larger spines. There is no apparent difference
between the male and female, for they both have one claw,
whichever it may be, larger than the other, and neither male nor
female is ever found with both claws of the same size.
All crustaceans take in water close by the mouth. The crab
discharges it, closing up, as it does so, a small portion of the
same, and the crawfish discharges it by way of the gills; and, by
the way, the gill-shaped organs in the crawfish are very
numerous.
The following properties are common to all crustaceans: they
have in all cases two teeth, or mandibles (for the front teeth in
the crawfish are two in number), and in all cases there is in the
mouth a small fleshy structure serving for a tongue; and the
stomach is close to the mouth, only that the crawfish has a little
oesophagus in front of the stomach, and there is a straight gut
attached to it. This gut, in the crawfish and its congeners, and in
the carids, extends in a straight line to the tail, and terminates
where the animal discharges the residuum, and where the
female deposits her spawn; in the crab it terminates where the
flap is situated, and in the centre of the flap. (And by the way, in
all these animals the spawn is deposited outside.) Further, the
female has the place for the spawn running along the gut. And,
again, all these animals have, more or less, an organ termed the
mytis, or poppyjuice.
We must now proceed to review their several differentiae.
The crawfish then, as has been said, has two teeth, large and
hollow, in which is contained a juice resembling the mytis, and
in between the teeth is a fleshy substance, shaped like a tongue.
After the mouth comes a short oesophagus, and then a
membranous stomach attached to the oesophagus, and at the
orifice Of the stomach are three teeth, two facing one another
1507
1508
to the stomach and to each side of the gut all along to the fleshy
parts, being enveloped in a thin membrane.
Such are the parts, internal and external, of the carid.
3
The inner organs of sanguineous animals happen to have
specific designations; for these animals have in all cases the
inner viscera, but this is not the case with the bloodless
animals, but what they have in common with red-blooded
animals is the stomach, the oesophagus, and the gut.
With regard to the crab, it has already been stated that it has
claws and feet, and their position has been set forth;
furthermore, for the most part they have the right claw bigger
and stronger than the left. It has also been stated that in
general the eyes of the crab look sideways. Further, the trunk of
the crabs body is single and undivided, including its head and
any other part it may possess. Some crabs have eyes placed
sideways on the upper part, immediately under the back, and
standing a long way apart, and some have their eyes in the
centre and close together, like the crabs of Heracleotis and the
so-called grannies. The mouth lies underneath the eyes, and
inside it there are two teeth, as is the case with the crawfish,
only that in the crab the teeth are not rounded but long; and
over the teeth are two lids, and in betwixt them are structures
such as the crawfish has besides its teeth. The crab takes in
water near by the mouth, using the lids as a check to the inflow,
and discharges the water by two passages above the mouth,
closing by means of the lids the way by which it entered; and
the two passage-ways are underneath the eyes. When it has
taken in water it closes its mouth by means of both lids, and
1509
ejects the water in the way above described. Next after the teeth
comes the oesophagus, very short, so short in fact that the
stomach seems to come straightway after the mouth. Next after
the oesophagus comes the stomach, two-horned, to the centre
of which is attached a simple and delicate gut; and the gut
terminates outwards, at the operculum, as has been previously
stated. (The crab has the parts in between the lids in the
neighbourhood of the teeth similar to the same parts in the
crawfish.) Inside the trunk is a sallow juice and some few little
bodies, long and white, and others spotted red. The male differs
from the female in size and breadth, and in respect of the
ventral flap; for this is larger in the female than in the male, and
stands out further from the trunk, and is more hairy (as is the
case also with the female in the crawfish).
So much, then, for the organs of the malacostraca or crustacea.
4
With the ostracoderma, or testaceans, such as the land-snails
and the sea-snails, and all the oysters so-called, and also with
the sea-urchin genus, the fleshy part, in such as have flesh, is
similarly situated to the fleshy part in the crustaceans; in other
words, it is inside the animal, and the shell is outside, and there
is no hard substance in the interior. As compared with one
another the testaceans present many diversities both in regard
to their shells and to the flesh within. Some of them have no
flesh at all, as the sea-urchin; others have flesh, but it is inside
and wholly hidden, except the head, as in the land-snails, and
the so-called cocalia, and, among pelagic animals, in the purple
murex, the ceryx or trumpet-shell, the sea-snail, and the spiralshaped testaceans in general. Of the rest, some are bivalved and
1510
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1513
white ones, only that the formations are smaller in the smaller
species.
The non-spiral univalves and bivalves are in some respect
similar in construction, and in some respects dissimilar, to the
spiral testaceans. They all have a head and horns, and a mouth,
and the organ resembling a tongue; but these organs, in the
smaller species, are indiscernible owing to the minuteness of
these animals, and some are indiscernible even in the larger
species when dead, or when at rest and motionless. They all
have the mecon, or poppy, but not all in the same place, nor of
equal size, nor similarly open to observation; thus, the limpets
have this organ deep down in the bottom of the shell, and the
bivalves at the hinge connecting the two valves. They also have
in all cases the hairy growths or beards, in a circular form, as in
the scallops. And, with regard to the so-called egg, in those
that have it, when they have it, it is situated in one of the semicircles of the periphery, as is the case with the white formation
in the snail; for this white formation in the snail corresponds to
the so-called egg of which we are speaking. But all these organs,
as has been stated, are distinctly traceable in the larger species,
while in the small ones they are in some cases almost, and in
others altogether, indiscernible. Hence they are most plainly
visible in the large scallops; and these are the bivalves that have
one valve flat-shaped, like the lid of a pot. The outlet of the
excretion is in all these animals (save for the exception to be
afterwards related) on one side; for there is a passage whereby
the excretion passes out. (And, remember, the mecon or poppy,
as has been stated, is an excretion in all these animals an
excretion enveloped in a membrane.) The so-called egg has no
outlet in any of these creatures, but is merely an excrescence in
the fleshy mass; and it is not situated in the same region with
the gut, but the egg is situated on the right-hand side and the
gut on the left. Such are the relations of the anal vent in most of
these animals; but in the case of the wild limpet (called by some
1514
the sea-ear), the residuum issues beneath the shell, for the
shell is perforated to give an outlet. In this particular limpet the
stomach is seen coming after the mouth, and the egg-shaped
formations are discernible. But for the relative positions of these
parts you are referred to my Treatise on Anatomy.
The so-called carcinium or hermit crab is in a way intermediate
between the crustaceans and the testaceans. In its nature it
resembles the crawfish kind, and it is born simple of itself, but
by its habit of introducing itself into a shell and living there it
resembles the testaceans, and so appears to partake of the
characters of both kinds. In shape, to give a simple illustration,
it resembles a spider, only that the part below the head and
thorax is larger in this creature than in the spider. It has two
thin red horns, and underneath these horns two long eyes, not
retreating inwards, nor turning sideways like the eyes of the
crab, but protruding straight out; and underneath these eyes the
mouth, and round about the mouth several hair-like growths,
and next after these two bifurcate legs or claws, whereby it
draws in objects towards itself, and two other legs on either
side, and a third small one. All below the thorax is soft, and
when opened in dissection is found to be sallow-coloured
within. From the mouth there runs a single passage right on to
the stomach, but the passage for the excretions is not
discernible. The legs and the thorax are hard, but not so hard as
the legs and the thorax of the crab. It does not adhere to its
shell like the purple murex and the ceryx, but can easily slip out
of it. It is longer when found in the shell of the stromboids than
when found in the shell of the neritae.
And, by the way, the animal found in the shell of the neritae is a
separate species, like to the other in most respects; but of its
bifurcate feet or claws, the right-hand one is small and the lefthand one is large, and it progresses chiefly by the aid of this
latter and larger one. (In the shells of these animals, and in
1515
5
The urchins are devoid of flesh, and this is a character peculiar
to them; and while they are in all cases empty and devoid of
any flesh within, they are in all cases furnished with the black
formations. There are several species of the urchin, and one of
these is that which is made use of for food; this is the kind in
1516
which are found the so-called eggs, large and edible, in the
larger and smaller specimens alike; for even when as yet very
small they are provided with them. There are two other species,
the spatangus, and the so-called bryssus, these animals are
pelagic and scarce. Further, there are the echinometrae, or
mother-urchins, the largest in size of all the species. In
addition to these there is another species, small in size, but
furnished with large hard spines; it lives in the sea at a depth of
several fathoms; and is used by some people as a specific for
cases of strangury. In the neighbourhood of Torone there are
sea-urchins of a white colour, shells, spines, eggs and all, and
that are longer than the ordinary sea-urchin. The spine in this
species is not large nor strong, but rather limp; and the black
formations in connexion with the mouth are more than usually
numerous, and communicate with the external duct, but not
with one another; in point of fact, the animal is in a manner
divided up by them. The edible urchin moves with greatest
freedom and most often; and this is indicated by the fact that
these urchins have always something or other on their spines.
All urchins are supplied with eggs, but in some of the species
the eggs are exceedingly small and unfit for food. Singularly
enough, the urchin has what we may call its head and mouth
down below, and a place for the issue of the residuum up above;
(and this same property is common to all stromboids and to
limpets). For the food on which the creature lives lies down
below; consequently the mouth has a position well adapted for
getting at the food, and the excretion is above, near to the back
of the shell. The urchin has, also, five hollow teeth inside, and in
the middle of these teeth a fleshy substance serving the office
of a tongue. Next to this comes the oesophagus, and then the
stomach, divided into five parts, and filled with excretion, all
the five parts uniting at the anal vent, where the shell is
perforated for an outlet. Underneath the stomach, in another
membrane, are the so-called eggs, identical in number in all
1517
6
The so-called tethyum or ascidian has of all these animals the
most remarkable characteristics. It is the only mollusc that has
its entire body concealed within its shell, and the shell is a
substance intermediate between hide and shell, so that it cuts
like a piece of hard leather. It is attached to rocks by its shell,
and is provided with two passages placed at a distance from
one another, very minute and hard to see, whereby it admits
and discharges the sea-water; for it has no visible excretion
(whereas of shell fish in general some resemble the urchin in
this matter of excretion, and others are provided with the socalled mecon, or poppy-juice). If the animal be opened, it is
found to have, in the first place, a tendinous membrane running
round inside the shell-like substance, and within this
membrane is the flesh-like substance of the ascidian, not
resembling that in other molluscs; but this flesh, to which I now
allude, is the same in all ascidia. And this substance is attached
1518
1519
and cannot be taken off the rocks entire; and being oppressed
by the heat they tend to slip back into the crevices of the rocks.
So much for the external and the internal organs of molluscs,
crustaceans, and testaceans.
7
We now proceed to treat of insects in like manner. This genus
comprises many species, and, though several kinds are clearly
related to one another, these are not classified under one
common designation, as in the case of the bee, the drone, the
wasp, and all such insects, and again as in the case of those that
have their wings in a sheath or shard, like the cockchafer, the
carabus or stag-beetle, the cantharis or blister-beetle, and the
like.
Insects have three parts common to them all; the head, the
trunk containing the stomach, and a third part in betwixt these
two, corresponding to what in other creatures embraces chest
and back. In the majority of insects this intermediate part is
single; but in the long and multipedal insects it has practically
the same number of segments as of nicks.
All insects when cut in two continue to live, excepting such as
are naturally cold by nature, or such as from their minute size
chill rapidly; though, by the way, wasps notwithstanding their
small size continue living after severance. In conjunction with
the middle portion either the head or the stomach can live, but
the head cannot live by itself. Insects that are long in shape and
many-footed can live for a long while after being cut in twain,
and the severed portions can move in either direction,
backwards or forwards; thus, the hinder portion, if cut off, can
1520
1521
1522
8
We now proceed to treat of the senses; for there are diversities
in animals with regard to the senses, seeing that some animals
have the use of all the senses, and others the use of a limited
number of them. The total number of the senses (for we have no
experience of any special sense not here included), is five: sight,
hearing, smell, taste, and touch.
Man, then, and all vivipara that have feet, and, further, all redblooded ovipara, appear to have the use of all the five senses,
except where some isolated species has been subjected to
mutilation, as in the case of the mole. For this animal is
deprived of sight; it has no eyes visible, but if the skin a thick
one, by the way be stripped off the head, about the place in the
exterior where eyes usually are, the eyes are found inside in a
stunted condition, furnished with all the parts found in
ordinary eyes; that is to say, we find there the black rim, and the
fatty part surrounding it; but all these parts are smaller than
the same parts in ordinary visible eyes. There is no external sign
1523
1524
are observed to run away from any loud noise, such as would be
made by the rowing of a galley, so as to become easy of capture
in their holes; for, by the way, though a sound be very slight in
the open air, it has a loud and alarming resonance to creatures
that hear under water. And this is shown in the capture of the
dolphin; for when the hunters have enclosed a shoal of these
fishes with a ring of their canoes, they set up from inside the
canoes a loud splashing in the water, and by so doing induce
the creatures to run in a shoal high and dry up on the beach,
and so capture them while stupefied with the noise. And yet, for
all this, the dolphin has no organ of hearing discernible.
Furthermore, when engaged in their craft, fishermen are
particularly careful to make no noise with oar or net; and after
they have spied a shoal, they let down their nets at a spot so far
off that they count upon no noise being likely to reach the
shoal, occasioned either by oar or by the surging of their boats
through the water; and the crews are strictly enjoined to
preserve silence until the shoal has been surrounded. And, at
times, when they want the fish to crowd together, they adopt
the stratagem of the dolphin-hunter; in other words they clatter
stones together, that the fish may, in their fright, gather close
into one spot, and so they envelop them within their nets.
(Before surrounding them, then, they preserve silence, as was
said; but, after hemming the shoal in, they call on every man to
shout out aloud and make any kind of noise; for on hearing the
noise and hubbub the fish are sure to tumble into the nets from
sheer fright.) Further, when fishermen see a shoal of fish
feeding at a distance, disporting themselves in calm bright
weather on the surface of the water, if they are anxious to
descry the size of the fish and to learn what kind of a fish it is,
they may succeed in coming upon the shoal whilst yet basking
at the surface if they sail up without the slightest noise, but if
any man make a noise previously, the shoal will be seen to
scurry away in alarm. Again, there is a small river-fish called the
1525
all animals. Testaceans have the senses of smell and taste. With
regard to their possession of the sense of smell, that is proved
by the use of baits, e.g. in the case of the purple-fish; for this
creature is enticed by baits of rancid meat, which it perceives
and is attracted to from a great distance. The proof that it
possesses a sense of taste hangs by the proof of its sense of
smell; for whenever an animal is attracted to a thing by
perceiving its smell, it is sure to like the taste of it. Further, all
animals furnished with a mouth derive pleasure or pain from
the touch of sapid juices.
With regard to sight and hearing, we cannot make statements
with thorough confidence or on irrefutable evidence. However,
the solen or razor-fish, if you make a noise, appears to burrow
in the sand, and to hide himself deeper when he hears the
approach of the iron rod (for the animal, be it observed, juts a
little out of its hole, while the greater part of the body remains
within), and scallops, if you present your finger near their
open valves, close them tight again as though they could see
what you were doing. Furthermore, when fishermen are laying
bait for neritae, they always get to leeward of them, and never
speak a word while so engaged, under the firm impression that
the animal can smell and hear; and they assure us that, if any
one speaks aloud, the creature makes efforts to escape. With
regard to testaceans, of the walking or creeping species the
urchin appears to have the least developed sense of smell; and,
of the stationary species, the ascidian and the barnacle.
So much for the organs of sense in the general run of animals.
We now proceed to treat of voice.
1528
9
Voice and sound are different from one another; and language
differs from voice and sound. The fact is that no animal can give
utterance to voice except by the action of the pharynx, and
consequently such animals as are devoid of lung have no voice;
and language is the articulation of vocal sounds by the
instrumentality of the tongue. Thus, the voice and larynx can
emit vocal or vowel sounds; non-vocal or consonantal sounds
are made by the tongue and the lips; and out of these vocal and
non-vocal sounds language is composed. Consequently, animals
that have no tongue at all or that have a tongue not freely
detached, have neither voice nor language; although, by the
way, they may be enabled to make noises or sounds by other
organs than the tongue.
Insects, for instance, have no voice and no language, but they
can emit sound by internal air or wind, though not by the
emission of air or wind; for no insects are capable of respiration.
But some of them make a humming noise, like the bee and the
other winged insects; and others are said to sing, as the cicada.
And all these latter insects make their special noises by means
of the membrane that is underneath the hypozoma those
insects, that is to say, whose body is thus divided; as for
instance, one species of cicada, which makes the sound by
means of the friction of the air. Flies and bees, and the like,
produce their special noise by opening and shutting their wings
in the act of flying; for the noise made is by the friction of air
between the wings when in motion. The noise made by
grasshoppers is produced by rubbing or reverberating with their
long hind-legs.
No mollusc or crustacean can produce any natural voice or
sound. Fishes can produce no voice, for they have no lungs, nor
windpipe and pharynx; but they emit certain inarticulate
1529
1530
10
With regard to the sleeping and waking of animals, all creatures
that are red-blooded and provided with legs give sensible proof
that they go to sleep and that they waken up from sleep; for, as
a matter of fact, all animals that are furnished with eyelids shut
1532
1533
sleeping by their lying still and allowing the glistening underparts of their bodies to become visible, while the capture is
taking Place. They sleep in the night-time more than during the
day; and so soundly at night that you may cast the net without
making them stir. Fish, as a general rule, sleep close to the
ground, or to the sand or to a stone at the bottom, or after
concealing themselves under a rock or the ground. Flat fish go
to sleep in the sand; and they can be distinguished by the
outlines of their shapes in the sand, and are caught in this
position by being speared with pronged instruments. The basse,
the chrysophrys or gilt-head, the mullet, and fish of the like sort
are often caught in the daytime by the prong owing to their
having been surprised when sleeping; for it is scarcely probable
that fish could be pronged while awake. Cartilaginous fish sleep
at times so soundly that they may be caught by hand. The
dolphin and the whale, and all such as are furnished with a
blow-hole, sleep with the blow-hole over the surface of the
water, and breathe through the blow-hole while they keep up a
quiet flapping of their fins; indeed, some mariners assure us
that they have actually heard the dolphin snoring.
Molluscs sleep like fishes, and crustaceans also. It is plain also
that insects sleep; for there can be no mistaking their condition
of motionless repose. In the bee the fact of its being asleep is
very obvious; for at night-time bees are at rest and cease to
hum. But the fact that insects sleep may be very well seen in
the case of common every-day creatures; for not only do they
rest at night-time from dimness of vision (and, by the way, all
hard-eyed creatures see but indistinctly), but even if a lighted
candle be presented they continue sleeping quite as soundly.
Of all animals man is most given to dreaming. Children and
infants do not dream, but in most cases dreaming comes on at
the age of four or five years. Instances have been known of fullgrown men and women that have never dreamed at all; in
1534
11
With regard to sex, some animals are divided into male and
female, but others are not so divided but can only be said in a
comparative way to bring forth young and to be pregnant. In
animals that live confined to one spot there is no duality of sex;
nor is there such, in fact, in any testaceans. In molluscs and in
crustaceans we find male and female: and, indeed, in all
animals furnished with feet, biped or quadruped; in short, in all
such as by copulation engender either live young or egg or grub.
In the several genera, with however certain exceptions, there
either absolutely is or absolutely is not a duality of sex. Thus, in
quadrupeds the duality is universal, while the absence of such
duality is universal in testaceans, and of these creatures, as
with plants, some individuals are fruitful and some are not their
lying still
But among insects and fishes, some cases are found wholly
devoid of this duality of sex. For instance, the eel is neither male
nor female, and can engender nothing. In fact, those who assert
that eels are at times found with hair-like or worm-like progeny
attached, make only random assertions from not having
carefully noticed the locality of such attachments. For no eel
nor animal of this kind is ever viviparous unless previously
oviparous; and no eel was ever yet seen with an egg. And
animals that are viviparous have their young in the womb and
1535
closely attached, and not in the belly; for, if the embryo were
kept in the belly, it would be subjected to the process of
digestion like ordinary food. When people rest duality of sex in
the eel on the assertion that the head of the male is bigger and
longer, and the head of the female smaller and more snubbed,
they are taking diversity of species for diversity of sex.
There are certain fish that are nicknamed the epitragiae, or
capon-fish, and, by the way, fish of this description are found in
fresh water, as the carp and the balagrus. This sort of fish never
has either roe or milt; but they are hard and fat all over, and are
furnished with a small gut; and these fish are regarded as of
super-excellent quality.
Again, just as in testaceans and in plants there is what bears
and engenders, but not what impregnates, so is it, among fishes,
with the psetta, the erythrinus, and the channe; for these fish
are in all cases found furnished with eggs.
As a general rule, in red-blooded animals furnished with feet
and not oviparous, the male is larger and longer-lived than the
female (except with the mule, where the female is longer-lived
and bigger than the male); whereas in oviparous and
vermiparous creatures, as in fishes and in insects, the female is
larger than the male; as, for instance, with the serpent, the
phalangium or venom-spider, the gecko, and the frog. The same
difference in size of the sexes is found in fishes, as, for instance,
in the smaller cartilaginous fishes, in the greater part of the
gregarious species, and in all that live in and about rocks. The
fact that the female is longer-lived than the male is inferred
from the fact that female fishes are caught older than males.
Furthermore, in all animals the upper and front parts are better,
stronger, and more thoroughly equipped in the male than in the
female, whereas in the female those parts are the better that
may be termed hinder-parts or underparts. And this statement
1536
is applicable to man and to all vivipara that have feet. Again, the
female is less muscular and less compactly jointed, and more
thin and delicate in the hair that is, where hair is found; and,
where there is no hair, less strongly furnished in some
analogous substance. And the female is more flaccid in texture
of flesh, and more knock-kneed, and the shin-bones are
thinner; and the feet are more arched and hollow in such
animals as are furnished with feet. And with regard to voice, the
female in all animals that are vocal has a thinner and sharper
voice than the male; except, by the way, with kine, for the
lowing and bellowing of the cow has a deeper note than that of
the bull. With regard to organs of defence and offence, such as
teeth, tusks, horns, spurs, and the like, these in some species
the male possesses and the female does not; as, for instance,
the hind has no horns, and where the cock-bird has a spur the
hen is entirely destitute of the organ; and in like manner the
sow is devoid of tusks. In other species such organs are found in
both sexes, but are more perfectly developed in the male; as, for
instance, the horn of the bull is more powerful than the horn of
the cow.
Book V
1
As to the parts internal and external that all animals are
furnished withal, and further as to the senses, to voice, and
1537
sleep, and the duality sex, all these topics have now been
touched upon. It now remains for us to discuss, duly and in
order, their several modes of propagation.
These modes are many and diverse, and in some respects are
like, and in other respects are unlike to one another. As we
carried on our previous discussion genus by genus, so we must
attempt to follow the same divisions in our present argument;
only that whereas in the former case we started with a
consideration of the parts of man, in the present case it behoves
us to treat of man last of all because he involves most
discussion. We shall commence, then, with testaceans, and then
proceed to crustaceans, and then to the other genera in due
order; and these other genera are, severally, molluscs, and
insects, then fishes viviparous and fishes oviparous, and next
birds; and afterwards we shall treat of animals provided with
feet, both such as are oviparous and such as are viviparous, and
we may observe that some quadrupeds are viviparous, but that
the only viviparous biped is man.
Now there is one property that animals are found to have in
common with plants. For some plants are generated from the
seed of plants, whilst other plants are self-generated through
the formation of some elemental principle similar to a seed;
and of these latter plants some derive their nutriment from the
ground, whilst others grow inside other plants, as is mentioned,
by the way, in my treatise on Botany. So with animals, some
spring from parent animals according to their kind, whilst
others grow spontaneously and not from kindred stock; and of
these instances of spontaneous generation some come from
putrefying earth or vegetable matter, as is the case with a
number of insects, while others are spontaneously generated in
the inside of animals out of the secretions of their several
organs.
1538
1539
2
Those animals, then, cover and are covered in which there is a
duality of sex, and the modes of covering in such animals are
not in all cases similar nor analogous. For the red-blooded
animals that are viviparous and furnished with feet have in all
cases organs adapted for procreation, but the sexes do not in all
cases come together in like manner. Thus, opisthuretic animals
copulate with a rearward presentment, as is the case with the
lion, the hare, and the lynx; though, by the way, in the case of
the hare, the female is often observed to cover the male.
The case is similar in most other such animals; that is to say,
the majority of quadrupeds copulate as best they can, the male
mounting the female; and this is the only method of copulating
adopted by birds, though there are certain diversities of method
observed even in birds. For in some cases the female squats on
the ground and the male mounts on top of her, as is the case
with the cock and hen bustard, and the barn-door cock and hen;
in other cases, the male mounts without the female squatting,
as with the male and female crane; for, with these birds, the
male mounts on to the back of the female and covers her, and
like the cock-sparrow consumes but very little time in the
operation. Of quadrupeds, bears perform the operation lying
prone on one another, in the same way as other quadrupeds do
while standing up; that is to say, with the belly of the male
pressed to the back of the female. Hedgehogs copulate erect,
belly to belly.
With regard to large-sized vivipara, the hind only very rarely
sustains the mounting of the stag to the full conclusion of the
operation, and the same is the case with the cow as regards the
1540
3
Oviparous quadrupeds cover one another in the same way. That
is to say, in some cases the male mounts the female precisely as
in the viviparous animals, as is observed in both the land and
the sea tortoise....And these creatures have an organ in which
the ducts converge, and with which they perform the act of
1541
4
Long animals devoid of feet, like serpents and muraenae,
intertwine in coition, belly to belly. And, in fact, serpents coil
round one another so tightly as to present the appearance of a
single serpent with a pair of heads. The same mode is followed
by the saurians; that is to say, they coil round one another in the
act of coition.
5
All fishes, with the exception of the flat selachians, lie down
side by side, and copulate belly to belly. Fishes, however, that are
flat and furnished with tails as the ray, the trygon, and the like
copulate not only in this way, but also, where the tail from its
thinness is no impediment, by mounting of the male upon the
female, belly to back. But the rhina or angel-fish, and other like
fishes where the tail is large, copulate only by rubbing against
one another sideways, belly to belly. Some men assure us that
they have seen some of the selachia copulating hindways, dog
and bitch. In the cartilaginous species the female is larger than
the male; and the same is the case with other fishes for the
most part. And among cartilaginous fishes are included, besides
those already named, the bos, the lamia, the aetos, the narce or
torpedo, the fishing-frog, and all the galeodes or sharks and
dogfish. Cartilaginous fishes, then, of all kinds, have in many
1542
1543
1544
6
Molluscs, such as the octopus, the sepia, and the calamary, have
sexual intercourse all in the same way; that is to say, they unite
at the mouth, by an interlacing of their tentacles. When, then,
the octopus rests its so-called head against the ground and
spreads abroad its tentacles, the other sex fits into the
outspreading of these tentacles, and the two sexes then bring
their suckers into mutual connexion.
Some assert that the male has a kind of penis in one of his
tentacles, the one in which are the largest suckers; and they
further assert that the organ is tendinous in character, growing
attached right up to the middle of the tentacle, and that the
latter enables it to enter the nostril or funnel of the female.
Now cuttle-fish and calamaries swim about closely intertwined,
with mouths and tentacles facing one another and fitting
closely together, and swim thus in opposite directions; and they
fit their so-called nostrils into one another, and the one sex
swims backwards and the other frontwards during the
operation. And the female lays its spawn by the so-called blowhole; and, by the way, some declare that it is at this organ that
the coition really takes place.
7
Crustaceans copulate, as the crawfish, the lobster, the carid and
the like, just like the opisthuretic quadrupeds, when the one
animal turns up its tail and the other puts his tail on the others
1545
8
Insects copulate at the hinder end, and the smaller individuals
mount the larger; and the smaller individual is the male. The
female pushes from underneath her sexual organ into the body
of the male above, this being the reverse of the operation
observed in other creatures; and this organ in the case of some
insects appears to be disproportionately large when compared
to the size of the body, and that too in very minute creatures; in
some insects the disproportion is not so striking. This
phenomenon may be witnessed if any one will pull asunder
flies that are copulating; and, by the way, these creatures are,
under the circumstances, averse to separation; for the
intercourse of the sexes in their case is of long duration, as may
be observed with common everyday insects, such as the fly and
1546
1547
9
(The aithyia, or diver, and the larus, or gull, lay their eggs on
rocks bordering on the sea, two or three at a time; but the gull
lays in the summer, and the diver at the beginning of spring,
just after the winter solstice, and it broods over its eggs as birds
do in general. And neither of these birds resorts to a hidingplace.)
The halcyon is the most rarely seen of all birds. It is seen only
about the time of the setting of the Pleiads and the winter
solstice. When ships are lying at anchor in the roads, it will
hover about a vessel and then disappear in a moment, and
1548
1549
10
Of cartilaginous fishes, the rhina or angelfish is the only one
that breeds twice; for it breeds at the beginning of autumn, and
at the setting of the Pleiads: and, of the two seasons, it is in
better condition in the autumn. It engenders at a birth seven or
eight young. Certain of the dog-fishes, for example the spotted
dog, seem to breed twice a month, and this results from the
circumstance that the eggs do not all reach maturity at the
same time.
Some fishes breed at all seasons, as the muraena. This animal
lays a great number of eggs at a time; and the young when
hatched are very small but grow with great rapidity, like the
young of the hippurus, for these fishes from being diminutive at
the outset grow with exceptional rapidity to an exceptional size.
(Be it observed that the muraena breeds at all seasons, but the
hippurus only in the spring. The smyrus differs from the
smyraena; for the muraena is mottled and weakly, whereas the
smyrus is strong and of one uniform colour, and the colour
resembles that of the pine-tree, and the animal has teeth inside
and out. They say that in this case, as in other similar ones, the
one is the male, and the other the female, of a single species.
They come out on to the land, and are frequently caught.)
Fishes, then, as a general rule, attain their full growth with great
rapidity, but this is especially the case, among small fishes, with
the coracine or crow-fish: it spawns, by the way, near the shore,
in weedy and tangled spots. The orphus also, or sea-perch, is
small at first, and rapidly attains a great size. The pelamys and
the tunny breed in the Euxine, and nowhere else. The cestreus
or mullet, the chrysophrys or gilt-head, and the labrax or basse,
breed best where rivers run into the sea. The orcys or largesized tunny, the scorpis, and many other species spawn in the
open sea.
1550
11
Fish for the most part breed some time or other during the
three months between the middle of March and the middle of
June. Some few breed in autumn: as, for instance, the saupe and
the sargus, and such others of this sort as breed shortly before
the autumn equinox; likewise the electric ray and the angelfish. Other fishes breed both in winter and in summer, as was
previously observed: as, for instance, in winter-time the basse,
the grey mullet, and the belone or pipe-fish; and in summertime, from the middle of June to the middle of July, the female
tunny, about the time of the summer solstice; and the tunny
lays a sac-like enclosure in which are contained a number of
small eggs. The ryades or shoal-fishes breed in summer.
Of the grey mullets, the chelon begins to be in roe between the
middle of November and the middle of December; as also the
sargue, and the smyxon or myxon, and the cephalus; and their
period of gestation is thirty days. And, by the way, some of the
grey mullet species are not produced from copulation, but grow
spontaneously from mud and sand.
As a general rule, then, fishes are in roe in the spring-time;
while some, as has been said, are so in summer, in autumn, or
in winter. But whereas the impregnation in the spring-time
follows a general law, impregnation in the other seasons does
not follow the same rule either throughout or within the limits
of one genus; and, further, conception in these variant seasons
is not so prolific. And, indeed, we must bear this in mind, that
just as with plants and quadrupeds diversity of locality has
much to do not only with general physical health but also with
the comparative frequency of sexual intercourse and
1551
12
The molluscs also breed in spring. Of the marine molluscs one
of the first to breed is the sepia. It spawns at all times of the day
and its period of gestation is fifteen days. After the female has
laid her eggs, the male comes and discharges the milt over the
eggs, and the eggs thereupon harden. And the two sexes of this
animal go about in pairs, side by side; and the male is more
mottled and more black on the back than the female.
The octopus pairs in winter and breeds in spring, lying hidden
for about two months. Its spawn is shaped like a vine-tendril,
and resembles the fruit of the white poplar; the creature is
extraordinarily prolific, for the number of individuals that come
from the spawn is something incalculable. The male differs
from the female in the fact that its head is longer, and that the
organ called by the fishermen its penis, in the tentacle, is white.
The female, after laying her eggs, broods over them, and in
consequence gets out of condition, by reason of not going in
quest of food during the hatching period.
The purple murex breeds about springtime, and the ceryx at the
close of the winter. And, as a general rule, the testaceans are
found to be furnished with their so-called eggs in spring-time
and in autumn, with the exception of the edible urchin; for this
animal has the so-called eggs in most abundance in these
seasons, but at no season is unfurnished with them; and it is
1552
13
(Of birds the wild species, as has been stated, as a general rule
pair and breed only once a year. The swallow, however, and the
blackbird breed twice. With regard to the blackbird, however, its
first brood is killed by inclemency of weather (for it is the
earliest of all birds to breed), but the second brood it usually
succeeds in rearing.
Birds that are domesticated or that are capable of domestication
breed frequently, just as the common pigeon breeds all through
the summer, and as is seen in the barn-door hen; for the barndoor cock and hen have intercourse, and the hen breeds, at all
seasons alike: excepting by the way, during the days about the
winter solstice.
Of the pigeon family there are many diversities; for the peristera
or common pigeon is not identical with the peleias or rockpigeon. In other words, the rock-pigeon is smaller than the
common pigeon, and is less easily domesticated; it is also black,
and small, red-footed and rough-footed; and in consequence of
these peculiarities it is neglected by the pigeon-fancier. The
largest of all the pigeon species is the phatta or ring-dove; and
the next in size is the oenas or stock-dove; and the stock-dove is
1553
a little larger than the common pigeon. The smallest of all the
species is the turtle-dove. Pigeons breed and hatch at all
seasons, if they are furnished with a sunny place and all
requisites; unless they are so furnished, they breed only in the
summer. The spring brood is the best, or the autumn brood. At
all events, without doubt, the produce of the hot season, the
summer brood, is the poorest of the three.)
14
Further, animals differ from one another in regard to the time of
life that is best adapted for sexual intercourse.
To begin with, in most animals the secretion of the seminal
fluid and its generative capacity are not phenomena
simultaneously manifested, but manifested successively. Thus,
in all animals, the earliest secretion of sperm is unfruitful, or if
it be fruitful the issue is comparatively poor and small. And this
phenomenon is especially observable in man, in viviparous
quadrupeds, and in birds; for in the case of man and the
quadruped the offspring is smaller, and in the case of the bird,
the egg.
For animals that copulate, of one and the same species, the age
for maturity is in most species tolerably uniform, unless it
occurs prematurely by reason of abnormality, or is postponed by
physical injury.
In man, then, maturity is indicated by a change of the tone of
voice, by an increase in size and an alteration in appearance of
the sexual organs, as also in an increase of size and alteration in
appearance of the breasts; and above all, in the hair-growth at
the pubes. Man begins to possess seminal fluid about the age of
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good feed, and with the first sow it mounts; if poorly fed or put
to many females, the copulation is abbreviated, and the litter is
comparatively poor. The first litter of the sow is the fewest in
number; at the second litter she is at her prime. The animal, as
it grows old, continues to breed, but the sexual desire abates.
When they reach fifteen years, they become unproductive, and
are getting old. If a sow be highly fed, it is all the more eager for
sexual commerce, whether old or young; but, if it be overfattened in pregnancy, it gives the less milk after parturition.
With regard to the age of the parents, the litter is the best when
they are in their prime; but with regard to the seasons of the
year, the litter is the best that comes at the beginning of winter;
and the summer litter the poorest, consisting as it usually does
of animals small and thin and flaccid. The boar, if it be well fed,
is sexually capable at all hours, night and day; but otherwise is
peculiarly salacious early in the morning. As it grows old the
sexual passion dies away, as we have already remarked. Very
often a boar, when more or less impotent from age or debility,
finding itself unable to accomplish the sexual commerce with
due speed, and growing fatigued with the standing posture, will
roll the sow over on the ground, and the pair will conclude the
operation side by side of one another. The sow is sure of
conception if it drops its lugs in rutting time; if the ears do not
thus drop, it may have to rut a second time before impregnation
takes place.
Bitches do not submit to the male throughout their lives, but
only until they reach a certain maturity of years. As a general
rule, they are sexually receptive and conceptive until they are
twelve years old; although, by the way, cases have been known
where dogs and bitches have been respectively procreative and
conceptive to the ages of eighteen and even of twenty years.
But, as a rule, age diminishes the capability of generation and of
conception with these animals as with all others.
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15
So much for the copulations of such animals as copulate.
We now proceed to treat of generation both with respect to
copulating and non-copulating animals, and we shall
commence with discussing the subject of generation in the case
of the testaceans.
The testacean is almost the only genus that throughout all its
species is non-copulative.
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The same phenomena are manifested by the ceryx or trumpetshell; and the seasons are the same in which the phenomena
are observable. Both animals, also, the murex and the ceryx,
have their opercula similarly situated and, in fact, all the
stromboids, and this is congenital with them all; and they feed
by protruding the so-called tongue underneath the operculum.
The tongue of the murex is bigger than ones finger, and by
means of it, it feeds, and perforates conchylia and the shells of
its own kind. Both the murex and the ceryx are long lived. The
murex lives for about six years; and the yearly increase is
indicated by a distinct interval in the spiral convolution of the
shell.
The mussel also constructs a honeycomb.
With regard to the limnostreae, or lagoon oysters, wherever you
have slimy mud there you are sure to find them beginning to
grow. Cockles and clams and razor-fishes and scallops row
spontaneously in sandy places. The pinna grows straight up
from its tuft of anchoring fibres in sandy and slimy places;
these creatures have inside them a parasite nicknamed the
pinna-guard, in some cases a small carid and in other cases a
little crab; if the pinna be deprived of this pinna-guard it soon
dies.
As a general rule, then, all testaceans grow by spontaneous
generation in mud, differing from one another according to the
differences of the material; oysters growing in slime, and
cockles and the other testaceans above mentioned on sandy
bottoms; and in the hollows of the rocks the ascidian and the
barnacle, and common sorts, such as the limpet and the nerites.
All these animals grow with great rapidity, especially the murex
and the scallop; for the murex and the scallop attain their full
growth in a year. In some of the testaceans white crabs are
found, very diminutive in size; they are most numerous in the
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16
Moreover, the animals that are unfurnished with shells grow
spontaneously, like the testaceans, as, for instance, the seanettles and the sponges in rocky caves.
Of the sea-nettle, or sea-anemone, there are two species; and of
these one species lives in hollows and never loosens its hold
upon the rocks, and the other lives on smooth flat reefs, free
and detached, and shifts its position from time to time.
(Limpets also detach themselves, and shift from place to place.)
In the chambered cavities of sponges pinna-guards or parasites
are found. And over the chambers there is a kind of spiders
web, by the opening and closing of which they catch mute
fishes; that is to say, they open the web to let the fish get in, and
close it again to entrap them.
Of sponges there are three species; the first is of loose porous
texture, the second is close textured, the third, which is
nicknamed the sponge of Achilles, is exceptionally fine and
close-textured and strong. This sponge is used as a lining to
helmets and greaves, for the purpose of deadening the sound of
the blow; and this is a very scarce species. Of the close textured
sponges such as are particularly hard and rough are nicknamed
goats.
Sponges grow spontaneously either attached to a rock or on
sea-beaches, and they get their nutriment in slime: a proof of
this statement is the fact that when they are first secured they
are found to be full of slime. This is characteristic of all living
creatures that get their nutriment by close local attachment.
And, by the way, the close-textured sponges are weaker than
the more openly porous ones because their attachment extends
over a smaller area.
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made at one particular spot, nor is it made all over their bodies;
for vacant pore-spaces intervene. There is a kind of membrane
stretched over the under parts; and in the under parts the
points of attachment are the more numerous. On the top most
of the pores are closed, but four or five are open and visible; and
we are told by some that it is through these pores that the
animal takes its food.
There is a particular species that is named the aplysia or the
unwashable, from the circumstance that it cannot be cleaned.
This species has the large open and visible pores, but all the rest
of the body is close-textured; and, if it be dissected, it is found
to be closer and more glutinous than the ordinary sponge, and,
in a word, something lung like in consistency. And, on all hands,
it is allowed that this species is sensitive and long-lived. They
are distinguished in the sea from ordinary sponges from the
circumstance that the ordinary sponges are white while the
slime is in them, but that these sponges are under any
circumstances black.
And so much with regard to sponges and to generation in the
testaceans.
17
Of crustaceans, the female crawfish after copulation conceives
and retains its eggs for about three months, from about the
middle of May to about the middle of August; they then lay the
eggs into the folds underneath the belly, and their eggs grow
like grubs. This same phenomenon is observable in molluscs
also, and in such fishes as are oviparous; for in all these cases
the egg continues to grow.
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18
Molluscs, after pairing and copulation, lay a white spawn; and
this spawn, as in the case of the testacean, gets granular in
time. The octopus discharges into its hole, or into a potsherd or
into any similar cavity, a structure resembling the tendrils of a
young vine or the fruit of the white poplar, as has been
previously observed. The eggs, when the female has laid them,
are clustered round the sides of the hole. They are so numerous
that, if they be removed they suffice to fill a vessel much larger
than the animals body in which they were contained. Some
1568
fifty days later, the eggs burst and the little polypuses creep out,
like little spiders, in great numbers; the characteristic form of
their limbs is not yet to be discerned in detail, but their general
outline is clear enough. And, by the way, they are so small and
helpless that the greater number perish; it is a fact that they
have been seen so extremely minute as to be absolutely without
organization, but nevertheless when touched they moved. The
eggs of the sepia look like big black myrtle-berries, and they are
linked all together like a bunch of grapes, clustered round a
centre, and are not easily sundered from one another: for the
male exudes over them some moist glairy stuff, which
constitutes the sticky gum. These eggs increase in size; and they
are white at the outset, but black and larger after the sprinkling
of the male seminal fluid.
When it has come into being the young sepia is first distinctly
formed inside out of the white substance, and when the egg
bursts it comes out. The inner part is formed as soon as the
female lays the egg, something like a hail-stone; and out of this
substance the young sepia grows by a head-attachment, just as
young birds grow by a belly-attachment. What is the exact
nature of the navel-attachment has not yet been observed,
except that as the young sepia grows the white substance grows
less and less in size, and at length, as happens with the yolk in
the case of birds, the white substance in the case of the young
sepia disappears. In the case of the young sepia, as in the case
of the young of most animals, the eyes at first seem very large.
To illustrate this by way of a figure, let A represent the ovum, B
and C the eyes, and D the sepidium, or body of the little sepia.
(See diagram.)
The female sepia goes pregnant in the spring-time, and lays its
eggs after fifteen days of gestation; after the eggs are laid there
comes in another fifteen days something like a bunch of grapes,
and at the bursting of these the young sepiae issue forth. But if,
1569
when the young ones are fully formed, you sever the outer
covering a moment too soon, the young creatures eject
excrement, and their colour changes from white to red in their
alarm.
Crustaceans, then, hatch their eggs by brooding over them as
they carry them about beneath their bodies; but the octopus,
the sepia, and the like hatch their eggs without stirring from the
spot where they may have laid them, and this statement is
particularly applicable to the sepia; in fact, the nest of the
female sepia is often seen exposed to view close in to shore. The
female octopus at times sits brooding over her eggs, and at
other times squats in front of her hole, stretching out her
tentacles on guard.
The sepia lays her spawn near to land in the neighbourhood of
sea-weed or reeds or any off-sweepings such as brushwood,
twigs, or stones; and fishermen place heaps of faggots here and
there on purpose, and on to such heaps the female deposits a
long continuous roe in shape like a vine tendril. It lays or spirts
out the spawn with an effort, as though there were difficulty in
the process. The female calamary spawns at sea; and it emits
the spawn, as does the sepia, in the mass.
The calamary and the cuttle-fish are short-lived, as, with few
exceptions, they never see the year out; and the same
statement is applicable to the octopus.
From one single egg comes one single sepia; and this is likewise
true of the young calamary.
The male calamary differs from the female; for if its gill-region
be dilated and examined there are found two red formations
resembling breasts, with which the male is unprovided. In the
sepia, apart from this distinction in the sexes, the male, as has
been stated, is more mottled than the female.
1570
19
With regard to insects, that the male is less than the female and
that he mounts upon her back, and how he performs the act of
copulation and the circumstance that he gives over reluctantly,
all this has already been set forth, most cases of insect
copulation this process is speedily followed up by parturition.
All insects engender grubs, with the exception of a species of
butterfly; and the female of this species lays a hard egg,
resembling the seed of the cnecus, with a juice inside it. But
from the grub, the young animal does not grow out of a mere
portion of it, as a young animal grows from a portion only of an
egg, but the grub entire grows and the animal becomes
differentiated out of it.
And of insects some are derived from insect congeners, as the
venom-spider and the common-spider from the venom-spider
and the common-spider, and so with the attelabus or locust, the
acris or grasshopper, and the tettix or cicada. Other insects are
not derived from living parentage, but are generated
spontaneously: some out of dew falling on leaves, ordinarily in
spring-time, but not seldom in winter when there has been a
stretch of fair weather and southerly winds; others grow in
decaying mud or dung; others in timber, green or dry; some in
the hair of animals; some in the flesh of animals; some in
excrements: and some from excrement after it has been voided,
and some from excrement yet within the living animal, like the
helminthes or intestinal worms. And of these intestinal worms
there are three species: one named the flat-worm, another the
round worm, and the third the ascarid. These intestinal worms
do not in any case propagate their kind. The flat-worm,
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From one particular large grub, which has as it were horns, and
in other respects differs from grubs in general, there comes, by
a metamorphosis of the grub, first a caterpillar, then the cocoon,
then the necydalus; and the creature passes through all these
transformations within six months. A class of women unwind
and reel off the cocoons of these creatures, and afterwards
weave a fabric with the threads thus unwound; a Coan woman
of the name of Pamphila, daughter of Plateus, being credited
with the first invention of the fabric. After the same fashion the
carabus or stag-beetle comes from grubs that live in dry wood:
at first the grub is motionless, but after a while the shell bursts
and the stag-beetle issues forth.
From the cabbage is engendered the cabbageworm, and from
the leek the prasocuris or leekbane; this creature is also winged.
From the flat animalcule that skims over the surface of rivers
comes the oestrus or gadfly; and this accounts for the fact that
gadflies most abound in the neighbourhood of waters on whose
surface these animalcules are observed. From a certain small,
black and hairy caterpillar comes first a wingless glow-worm;
and this creature again suffers a metamorphosis, and
transforms into a winged insect named the bostrychus (or haircurl).
Gnats grow from ascarids; and ascarids are engendered in the
slime of wells, or in places where there is a deposit left by the
draining off of water. This slime decays, and first turns white,
then black, and finally blood-red; and at this stage there
originate in it, as it were, little tiny bits of red weed, which at
first wriggle about all clinging together, and finally break loose
and swim in the water, and are hereupon known as ascarids.
After a few days they stand straight up on the water motionless
and hard, and by and by the husk breaks off and the gnats are
seen sitting upon it, until the suns heat or a puff of wind sets
them in motion, when they fly away.
1573
With all grubs and all animals that break out from the grub
state, generation is due primarily to the heat of the sun or to
wind.
Ascarids are more likely to be found, and grow with unusual
rapidity, in places where there is a deposit of a mixed and
heterogeneous kind, as in kitchens and in ploughed fields, for
the contents of such places are disposed to rapid putrefaction.
In autumn, also, owing to the drying up of moisture, they grow
in unusual numbers.
The tick is generated from couch-grass. The cockchafer comes
from a grub that is generated in the dung of the cow or the ass.
The cantharus or scarabeus rolls a piece of dung into a ball, lies
hidden within it during the winter, and gives birth therein to
small grubs, from which grubs come new canthari. Certain
winged insects also come from the grubs that are found in
pulse, in the same fashion as in the cases described.
Flies grow from grubs in the dung that farmers have gathered
up into heaps: for those who are engaged in this work
assiduously gather up the compost, and this they technically
term working-up the manure. The grub is exceedingly minute
to begin with; first even at this stage it assumes a reddish
colour, and then from a quiescent state it takes on the power of
motion, as though born to it; it then becomes a small
motionless grub; it then moves again, and again relapses into
immobility; it then comes out a perfect fly, and moves away
under the influence of the suns heat or of a puff of air. The
myops or horse-fly is engendered in timber. The orsodacna or
budbane is a transformed grub; and this grub is engendered in
cabbage-stalks. The cantharis comes from the caterpillars that
are found on fig-trees or pear-trees or fir-trees for on all these
grubs are engendered and also from caterpillars found on the
dog-rose; and the cantharis takes eagerly to ill-scented
1574
substances, from the fact of its having been engendered in illscented woods. The conops comes from a grub that is
engendered in the slime of vinegar.
And, by the way, living animals are found in substances that are
usually supposed to be incapable of putrefaction; for instance,
worms are found in long-lying snow; and snow of this
description gets reddish in colour, and the grub that is
engendered in it is red, as might have been expected, and it is
also hairy. The grubs found in the snows of Media are large and
white; and all such grubs are little disposed to motion. In
Cyprus, in places where copper-ore is smelted, with heaps of
the ore piled on day after day, an animal is engendered in the
fire, somewhat larger than a blue bottle fly, furnished with
wings, which can hop or crawl through the fire. And the grubs
and these latter animals perish when you keep the one away
from the fire and the other from the snow. Now the salamander
is a clear case in point, to show us that animals do actually exist
that fire cannot destroy; for this creature, so the story goes, not
only walks through the fire but puts it out in doing so.
On the river Hypanis in the Cimmerian Bosphorus, about the
time of the summer solstice, there are brought down towards
the sea by the stream what look like little sacks rather bigger
than grapes, out of which at their bursting issues a winged
quadruped. The insect lives and flies about until the evening,
but as the sun goes down it pines away, and dies at sunset
having lived just one day, from which circumstance it is called
the ephemeron.
As a rule, insects that come from caterpillars and grubs are held
at first by filaments resembling the threads of a spiders web.
Such is the mode of generation of the insects above
enumerated. but if the latter impregnation takes placeduring
the change of the yellow
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20
The wasps that are nicknamed the ichneumons (or hunters),
less in size, by the way, than the ordinary wasp, kill spiders and
carry off the dead bodies to a wall or some such place with a
hole in it; this hole they smear over with mud and lay their
grubs inside it, and from the grubs come the hunter-wasps.
Some of the coleoptera and of the small and nameless insects
make small holes or cells of mud on a wall or on a grave-stone,
and there deposit their grubs.
With insects, as a general rule, the time of generation from its
commencement to its completion comprises three or four
weeks. With grubs and grub-like creatures the time is usually
three weeks, and in the oviparous insects as a rule four. But, in
the case of oviparous insects, the egg-formation comes at the
close of seven days from copulation, and during the remaining
three weeks the parent broods over and hatches its young; i.e.
where this is the result of copulation, as in the case of the
spider and its congeners. As a rule, the transformations take
place in intervals of three or four days, corresponding to the
lengths of interval at which the crises recur in intermittent
fevers.
So much for the generation of insects. Their death is due to the
shrivelling of their organs, just as the larger animals die of old
age.
Winged insects die in autumn from the shrinking of their wings.
The myops dies from dropsy in the eyes.
1576
21
With regard to the generation of bees different hypotheses are
in vogue. Some affirm that bees neither copulate nor give birth
to young, but that they fetch their young. And some say that
they fetch their young from the flower of the callyntrum; others
assert that they bring them from the flower of the reed, others,
from the flower of the olive. And in respect to the olive theory, it
is stated as a proof that, when the olive harvest is most
abundant, the swarms are most numerous. Others declare that
they fetch the brood of the drones from such things as above
mentioned, but that the working bees are engendered by the
rulers of the hive.
Now of these rulers there are two kinds: the better kind is red in
colour, the inferior kind is black and variegated; the ruler is
double the size of the working bee. These rulers have the
abdomen or part below the waist half as large again, and they
are called by some the mothers, from an idea that they bear or
generate the bees; and, as a proof of this theory of their
motherhood, they declare that the brood of the drones appears
even when there is no ruler-bee in the hive, but that the bees do
not appear in his absence. Others, again, assert that these
insects copulate, and that the drones are male and the bees
female.
The ordinary bee is generated in the cells of the comb, but the
ruler-bees in cells down below attached to the comb, suspended
from it, apart from the rest, six or seven in number, and growing
in a way quite different from the mode of growth of the
ordinary brood.
Bees are provided with a sting, but the drones are not so
provided. The rulers are provided with stings, but they never use
1577
them; and this latter circumstance will account for the belief of
some people that they have no stings at all.
22
Of bees there are various species. The best kind is a little round
mottled insect; another is long, and resembles the anthrena; a
third is a black and flat-bellied, and is nick-named the robber;
a fourth kind is the drone, the largest of all, but stingless and
inactive. And this proportionate size of the drone explains why
some bee-masters place a net-work in front of the hives; for the
network is put to keep the big drones out while it lets the little
bees go in.
Of the king bees there are, as has been stated, two kinds. In
every hive there are more kings than one; and a hive goes to
ruin if there be too few kings, not because of anarchy thereby
ensuing, but, as we are told, because these creatures contribute
in some way to the generation of the common bees. A hive will
go also to ruin if there be too large a number of kings in it; for
the members of the hives are thereby subdivided into too many
separate factions.
Whenever the spring-time is late a-coming, and when there is
drought and mildew, then the progeny of the hive is small in
number. But when the weather is dry they attend to the honey,
and in rainy weather their attention is concentrated on the
brood; and this will account for the coincidence of rich oliveharvests and abundant swarms.
The bees first work at the honeycomb, and then put the pupae
in it: by the mouth, say those who hold the theory of their
bringing them from elsewhere. After putting in the pupae they
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flowers at this time of the year, and it is from the ivy-flower that
they derive their honey. A white and very consistent honey is
brought down from the upper country to Amisus, which is
deposited by bees on trees without the employment of
honeycombs: and this kind of honey is produced in other
districts in Pontus.
There are bees also that construct triple honeycombs in the
ground; and these honeycombs supply honey but never contain
grubs. But the honeycombs in these places are not all of this
sort, nor do all the bees construct them.
23
Anthrenae and wasps construct combs for their young. When
they have no king, but are wandering about in search of one, the
anthrene constructs its comb on some high place, and the wasp
inside a hole. When the anthrene and the wasp have a king,
they construct their combs underground. Their combs are in all
cases hexagonal like the comb of the bee. They are composed,
however, not of wax, but of a bark-like filamented fibre, and the
comb of the anthrene is much neater than the comb of the
wasp. Like the bee, they put their young just like a drop of liquid
on to the side of the cell, and the egg clings to the wall of the
cell. But the eggs are not deposited in the cells simultaneously;
on the contrary, in some cells are creatures big enough to fly, in
others are nymphae, and in others are mere grubs. As in the
case of bees, excrement is observed only in the cells where the
grubs are found. As long as the creatures are in the nymph
condition they are motionless, and the cell is cemented over. In
the comb of the anthrene there is found in the cell of the young
a drop of honey in front of it. The larvae of the anthrene and the
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24
There is a kind of humble-bee that builds a cone-shaped nest of
clay against a stone or in some similar situation, besmearing
the clay with something like spittle. And this nest or hive is
exceedingly thick and hard; in point of fact, one can hardly
break it open with a spike. Here the insects lay their eggs, and
white grubs are produced wrapped in a black membrane. Apart
from the membrane there is found some wax in the
honeycomb; and this a wax is much sallower in hue than the
wax in the honeycomb of the bee.
25
Ants copulate and engender grubs; and these grubs attach
themselves to nothing in particular, but grow on and on from
small and rounded shapes until they become elongated and
defined in shape: and they are engendered in spring-time.
1582
26
The land-scorpion also lays a number of egg shaped grubs, and
broods over them. When the hatching is completed, the parent
animal, as happens with the parent spider, is ejected and put to
death by the young ones; for very often the young ones are
about eleven in number.
27
Spiders in all cases copulate in the way above mentioned, and
generate at first small grubs. And these grubs metamorphose in
their entirety, and not partially, into spiders; for, by the way, the
grubs are round-shaped at the outset. And the spider, when it
lays its eggs, broods over them, and in three days the eggs or
grubs take definite shape.
All spiders lay their eggs in a web; but some spiders lay in a
small and fine web, and others in a thick one; and some, as a
rule, lay in a round-shaped case or capsule, and some are only
partially enveloped in the web. The young grubs are not all
developed at one and the same time into young spiders; but the
moment the development takes place, the young spider makes
a leap and begins to spin his web. The juice of the grub, if you
squeeze it, is the same as the juice found in the spider when
young; that is to say, it is thick and white.
The meadow spider lays its eggs into a web, one half of which is
attached to itself and the other half is free; and on this the
parent broods until the eggs are hatched. The phalangia lay
their eggs in a sort of strong basket which they have woven, and
brood over it until the eggs are hatched. The smooth spider is
much less prolific than the phalangium or hairy spider. These
1583
phalangia, when they grow to full size, very often envelop the
mother phalangium and eject and kill her; and not seldom they
kill the father-phalangium as well, if they catch him: for, by the
way, he has the habit of co-operating with the mother in the
hatching. The brood of a single phalangium is sometimes three
hundred in number. The spider attains its full growth in about
four weeks.
28
Grasshoppers (or locusts) copulate in the same way as other
insects; that is to say, with the lesser covering the larger, for the
male is smaller than the female. The females first insert the
hollow tube, which they have at their tails, in the ground, and
then lay their eggs: and the male, by the way, is not furnished
with this tube. The females lay their eggs all in a lump together,
and in one spot, so that the entire lump of eggs resembles a
honeycomb. After they have laid their eggs, the eggs assume the
shape of oval grubs that are enveloped by a sort of thin clay, like
a membrane; in this membrane-like formation they grow on to
maturity. The larva is so soft that it collapses at a touch. The
larva is not placed on the surface of the ground, but a little
beneath the surface; and, when it reaches maturity, it comes out
of its clayey investiture in the shape of a little black
grasshopper; by and by, the skin integument strips off, and it
grows larger and larger.
The grasshopper lays its eggs at the close of summer, and dies
after laying them. The fact is that, at the time of laying the eggs,
grubs are engendered in the region of the mother grasshoppers
neck; and the male grasshoppers die about the same time. In
spring-time they come out of the ground; and, by the way, no
1584
29
The attelabi or locusts lay their eggs and die in like manner
after laying them. Their eggs are subject to destruction by the
autumn rains, when the rains are unusually heavy; but in
seasons of drought the locusts are exceedingly numerous, from
the absence of any destructive cause, since their destruction
seems then to be a matter of accident and to depend on luck.
30
Of the cicada there are two kinds; one, small in size, the first to
come and the last to disappear; the other, large, the singing one
that comes last and first disappears. Both in the small and the
large species some are divided at the waist, to wit, the singing
ones, and some are undivided; and these latter have no song.
The large and singing cicada is by some designated the chirper,
and the small cicada the tettigonium or cicadelle. And, by the
way, such of the tettigonia as are divided at the waist can sing
just a little.
The cicada is not found where there are no trees; and this
accounts for the fact that in the district surrounding the city of
Cyrene it is not found at all in the plain country, but is found in
1585
1586
If you present your finger to a cicada and bend back the tip of it
and then extend it again, it will endure the presentation more
quietly than if you were to keep your finger outstretched
altogether; and it will set to climbing your finger: for the
creature is so weak-sighted that it will take to climbing your
finger as though that were a moving leaf.
31
Of insects that are not carnivorous but that live on the juices of
living flesh, such as lice and fleas and bugs, all, without
exception, generate what are called nits, and these nits
generate nothing.
Of these insects the flea is generated out of the slightest
amount of putrefying matter; for wherever there is any dry
excrement, a flea is sure to be found. Bugs are generated from
the moisture of living animals, as it dries up outside their
bodies. Lice are generated out of the flesh of animals.
When lice are coming there is a kind of small eruption visible,
unaccompanied by any discharge of purulent matter; and, if you
prick an animal when in this condition at the spot of eruption,
the lice jump out. In some men the appearance of lice is a
disease, in cases where the body is surcharged with moisture;
and, indeed, men have been known to succumb to this lousedisease, as Alcmeon the poet and the Syrian Pherecydes are said
to have done. Moreover, in certain diseases lice appear in great
abundance.
There is also a species of louse called the wild louse, and this is
harder than the ordinary louse, and there is exceptional
difficulty in getting the skin rid of it. Boys heads are apt to be
1587
lousy, but mens in less degree; and women are more subject to
lice than men. But, whenever people are troubled with lousy
heads, they are less than ordinarily troubled with headache.
And lice are generated in other animals than man. For birds are
infested with them; and pheasants, unless they clean
themselves in the dust, are actually destroyed by them. All
other winged animals that are furnished with feathers are
similarly infested, and all hair-coated creatures also, with the
single exception of the ass, which is infested neither with lice
nor with ticks.
Cattle suffer both from lice and from ticks. Sheep and goats
breed ticks, but do not breed lice. Pigs breed lice large and hard.
In dogs are found the flea peculiar to the animal, the
Cynoroestes. In all animals that are subject to lice, the latter
originate from the animals themselves. Moreover, in animals
that bathe at all, lice are more than usually abundant when
they change the water in which they bathe.
In the sea, lice are found on fishes, but they are generated not
out of the fish but out of slime; and they resemble multipedal
wood-lice, only that their tail is flat. Sea-lice are uniform in
shape and universal in locality, and are particularly numerous
on the body of the red mullet. And all these insects are
multipedal and devoid of blood.
The parasite that feeds on the tunny is found in the region of
the fins; it resembles a scorpion, and is about the size of a
spider. In the seas between Cyrene and Egypt there is a fish that
attends on the dolphin, which is called the dolphins louse.
This fish gets exceedingly fat from enjoying an abundance of
food while the dolphin is out in pursuit of its prey.
1588
32
Other animalcules besides these are generated, as we have
already remarked, some in wool or in articles made of wool, as
the ses or clothes-moth. And these animalcules come in greater
numbers if the woollen substances are dusty; and they come in
especially large numbers if a spider be shut up in the cloth or
wool, for the creature drinks up any moisture that may be there,
and dries up the woollen substance. This grub is found also in
mens clothes.
A creature is also found in wax long laid by, just as in wood, and
it is the smallest of animalcules and is white in colour, and is
designated the acari or mite. In books also other animalcules
are found, some resembling the grubs found in garments, and
some resembling tailless scorpions, but very small. As a general
rule we may state that such animalcules are found in practically
anything, both in dry things that are becoming moist and in
moist things that are drying, provided they contain the
conditions of life.
There is a grub entitled the faggot-bearer, as strange a creature
as is known. Its head projects outside its shell, mottled in
colour, and its feet are near the end or apex, as is the case with
grubs in general; but the rest of its body is cased in a tunic as it
were of spiders web, and there are little dry twigs about it, that
look as though they had stuck by accident to the creature as it
went walking about. But these twig-like formations are
naturally connected with the tunic, for just as the shell is with
the body of the snail so is the whole superstructure with our
grub; and they do not drop off, but can only be torn off, as
though they were all of a piece with him, and the removal of the
tunic is as fatal to this grub as the removal of the shell would be
to the snail. In course of time this grub becomes a chrysalis, as
is the case with the silkworm, and lives in a motionless
1589
33
In the case of animals that are quadrupeds and red-blooded and
oviparous, generation takes place in the spring, but copulation
does not take place in an uniform season. In some cases it takes
place in the spring, in others in summer time, and in others in
the autumn, according as the subsequent season may be
favourable for the young.
The tortoise lays eggs with a hard shell and of two colours
within, like birds eggs, and after laying them buries them in the
ground and treads the ground hard over them; it then broods
over the eggs on the surface of the ground, and hatches the eggs
the next year. The hemys, or fresh-water tortoise, leaves the
water and lays its eggs. It digs a hole of a casklike shape, and
deposits therein the eggs; after rather less than thirty days it
digs the eggs up again and hatches them with great rapidity,
and leads its young at once off to the water. The sea-turtle lays
on the ground eggs just like the eggs of domesticated birds,
buries the eggs in the ground, and broods over them in the
night-time. It lays a very great number of eggs, amounting at
times to one hundred.
1590
34
With regard to serpents or snakes, the viper is externally
viviparous, having been previously oviparous internally. The egg,
as with the egg of fishes, is uniform in colour and soft-skinned.
The young serpent grows on the surface of the egg, and, like the
young of fishes, has no shell-like envelopment. The young of the
viper is born inside a membrane that bursts from off the young
creature in three days; and at times the young viper eats its way
out from the inside of the egg. The mother viper brings forth all
its young in one day, twenty in number, and one at a time. The
other serpents are externally oviparous, and their eggs are
strung on to one another like a ladys necklace; after the dam
has laid her eggs in the ground she broods over them, and
hatches the eggs in the following year.
1591
Book VI
1
So much for the generative processes in snakes and insects, and
also in oviparous quadrupeds. Birds without exception lay eggs,
but the pairing season and the times of parturition are not alike
for all. Some birds couple and lay at almost any time in the year,
as for instance the barn-door hen and the pigeon: the former of
these coupling and laying during the entire year, with the
exception of the month before and the month after the winter
solstice. Some hens, even in the high breeds, lay a large quantity
of eggs before brooding, amounting to as many as sixty; and, by
the way, the higher breeds are less prolific than the inferior
ones. The Adrian hens are small-sized, but they lay every day;
they are cross-tempered, and often kill their chickens; they are
of all colours. Some domesticated hens lay twice a day; indeed,
instances have been known where hens, after exhibiting
extreme fecundity, have died suddenly. Hens, then, lay eggs, as
has been stated, at all times indiscriminately; the pigeon, the
ring-dove, the turtle-dove, and the stock-dove lay twice a year,
and the pigeon actually lays ten times a year. The great majority
of birds lay during the spring-time. Some birds are prolific, and
prolific in either of two ways either by laying often, as the
pigeon, or by laying many eggs at a sitting, as the barn-door
hen. All birds of prey, or birds with crooked talons, are
unprolific, except the kestrel: this bird is the most prolific of
birds of prey; as many as four eggs have been observed in the
nest, and occasionally it lays even more.
1592
2
The egg in the case of all birds alike is hard-shelled, if it be the
produce of copulation and be laid by a healthy hen for some
hens lay soft eggs. The interior of the egg is of two colours, and
the white part is outside and the yellow part within.
The eggs of birds that frequent rivers and marshes differ from
those of birds that live on dry land; that is to say, the eggs of
waterbirds have comparatively more of the yellow or yolk and
less of the white. Eggs vary in colour according to their kind.
Some eggs are white, as those of the pigeon and of the
partridge; others are yellowish, as the eggs of marsh birds; in
some cases the eggs are mottled, as the eggs of the guinea-fowl
1593
and the pheasant; while the eggs of the kestrel are red, like
vermilion.
Eggs are not symmetrically shaped at both ends: in other words,
one end is comparatively sharp, and the other end is
comparatively blunt; and it is the latter end that protrudes first
at the time of laying. Long and pointed eggs are female; those
that are round, or more rounded at the narrow end, are male.
Eggs are hatched by the incubation of the mother-bird. In some
cases, as in Egypt, they are hatched spontaneously in the
ground, by being buried in dung heaps. A story is told of a toper
in Syracuse, how he used to put eggs into the ground under his
rush-mat and to keep on drinking until he hatched them.
Instances have occurred of eggs being deposited in warm
vessels and getting hatched spontaneously.
The sperm of birds, as of animals in general, is white. After the
female has submitted to the male, she draws up the sperm to
underneath her midriff. At first it is little in size and white in
colour; by and by it is red, the colour of blood; as it grows, it
becomes pale and yellow all over. When at length it is getting
ripe for hatching, it is subject to differentiation of substance,
and the yolk gathers together within and the white settles
round it on the outside. When the full time is come, the egg
detaches itself and protrudes, changing from soft to hard with
such temporal exactitude that, whereas it is not hard during the
process of protrusion, it hardens immediately after the process
is completed: that is if there be no concomitant pathological
circumstances. Cases have occurred where substances
resembling the egg at a critical point of its growth that is,
when it is yellow all over, as the yolk is subsequently have
been found in the cock when cut open, underneath his midriff,
just where the hen has her eggs; and these are entirely yellow
in appearance and of the same size as ordinary eggs. Such
phenomena are regarded as unnatural and portentous.
1594
1595
The yolk and the white are diverse not only in colour but also in
properties. Thus, the yolk congeals under the influence of cold,
whereas the white instead of congealing is inclined rather to
liquefy. Again, the white stiffens under the influence of fire,
whereas the yolk does not stiffen; but, unless it be burnt
through and through, it remains soft, and in point of fact is
inclined to set or to harden more from the boiling than from the
roasting of the egg. The yolk and the white are separated by a
membrane from one another. The so-called hail-stones, or
treadles, that are found at the extremity of the yellow in no way
contribute towards generation, as some erroneously suppose:
they are two in number, one below and the other above. If you
take out of the shells a number of yolks and a number of whites
and pour them into a sauce pan and boil them slowly over a low
fire, the yolks will gather into the centre and the whites will set
all around them.
Young hens are the first to lay, and they do so at the beginning
of spring and lay more eggs than the older hens, but the eggs of
the younger hens are comparatively small. As a general rule, if
hens get no brooding they pine and sicken. After copulation
hens shiver and shake themselves, and often kick rubbish about
all round them and this, by the way, they do sometimes after
laying whereas pigeons trail their rumps on the ground, and
geese dive under the water. Conception of the true egg and
conformation of the wind-egg take place rapidly with most
birds; as for instance with the hen-partridge when in heat. The
fact is that, when she stands to windward and within scent of
the male, she conceives, and becomes useless for decoy
purposes: for, by the way, the partridge appears to have a very
acute sense of smell.
The generation of the egg after copulation and the generation of
the chick from the subsequent hatching of the egg are not
brought about within equal periods for all birds, but differ as to
1596
3
Generation from the egg proceeds in an identical manner with
all birds, but the full periods from conception to birth differ, as
has been said. With the common hen after three days and three
nights there is the first indication of the embryo; with larger
birds the interval being longer, with smaller birds shorter.
Meanwhile the yolk comes into being, rising towards the sharp
end, where the primal element of the egg is situated, and where
1597
the egg gets hatched; and the heart appears, like a speck of
blood, in the white of the egg. This point beats and moves as
though endowed with life, and from it two vein-ducts with
blood in them trend in a convoluted course (as the egg
substance goes on growing, towards each of the two
circumjacent integuments); and a membrane carrying bloody
fibres now envelops the yolk, leading off from the vein-ducts. A
little afterwards the body is differentiated, at first very small
and white. The head is clearly distinguished, and in it the eyes,
swollen out to a great extent. This condition of the eyes lat on
for a good while, as it is only by degrees that they diminish in
size and collapse. At the outset the under portion of the body
appears insignificant in comparison with the upper portion. Of
the two ducts that lead from the heart, the one proceeds
towards the circumjacent integument, and the other, like a
navel-string, towards the yolk. The life-element of the chick is in
the white of the egg, and the nutriment comes through the
navel-string out of the yolk.
When the egg is now ten days old the chick and all its parts are
distinctly visible. The head is still larger than the rest of its body,
and the eyes larger than the head, but still devoid of vision. The
eyes, if removed about this time, are found to be larger than
beans, and black; if the cuticle be peeled off them there is a
white and cold liquid inside, quite glittering in the sunlight, but
there is no hard substance whatsoever. Such is the condition of
the head and eyes. At this time also the larger internal organs
are visible, as also the stomach and the arrangement of the
viscera; and veins that seem to proceed from the heart are now
close to the navel. From the navel there stretch a pair of veins;
one towards the membrane that envelops the yolk (and, by the
way, the yolk is now liquid, or more so than is normal), and the
other towards that membrane which envelops collectively the
membrane wherein the chick lies, the membrane of the yolk,
and the intervening liquid. (For, as the chick grows, little by little
1598
one part of the yolk goes upward, and another part downward,
and the white liquid is between them; and the white of the egg
is underneath the lower part of the yolk, as it was at the outset.)
On the tenth day the white is at the extreme outer surface,
reduced in amount, glutinous, firm in substance, and sallow in
colour.
The disposition of the several constituent parts is as follows.
First and outermost comes the membrane of the egg, not that of
the shell, but underneath it. Inside this membrane is a white
liquid; then comes the chick, and a membrane round about it,
separating it off so as to keep the chick free from the liquid;
next after the chick comes the yolk, into which one of the two
veins was described as leading, the other one leading into the
enveloping white substance. (A membrane with a liquid
resembling serum envelops the entire structure. Then comes
another membrane right round the embryo, as has been
described, separating it off against the liquid. Underneath this
comes the yolk, enveloped in another membrane (into which
yolk proceeds the navel-string that leads from the heart and the
big vein), so as to keep the embryo free of both liquids.)
About the twentieth day, if you open the egg and touch the
chick, it moves inside and chirps; and it is already coming to be
covered with down, when, after the twentieth day is ast, the
chick begins to break the shell. The head is situated over the
right leg close to the flank, and the wing is placed over the head;
and about this time is plain to be seen the membrane
resembling an after-birth that comes next after the outermost
membrane of the shell, into which membrane the one of the
navel-strings was described as leading (and, by the way, the
chick in its entirety is now within it), and so also is the other
membrane resembling an after-birth, namely that surrounding
the yolk, into which the second navel-string was described as
leading; and both of them were described as being connected
1599
with the heart and the big vein. At this conjuncture the navelstring that leads to the outer afterbirth collapses and becomes
detached from the chick, and the membrane that leads into the
yolk is fastened on to the thin gut of the creature, and by this
time a considerable amount of the yolk is inside the chick and a
yellow sediment is in its stomach. About this time it discharges
residuum in the direction of the outer after-birth, and has
residuum inside its stomach; and the outer residuum is white
(and there comes a white substance inside). By and by the yolk,
diminishing gradually in size, at length becomes entirely used
up and comprehended within the chick (so that, ten days after
hatching, if you cut open the chick, a small remnant of the yolk
is still left in connexion with the gut), but it is detached from
the navel, and there is nothing in the interval between, but it
has been used up entirely. During the period above referred to
the chick sleeps, wakes up, makes a move and looks up and
Chirps; and the heart and the navel together palpitate as
though the creature were respiring. So much as to generation
from the egg in the case of birds.
Birds lay some eggs that are unfruitful, even eggs that are the
result of copulation, and no life comes from such eggs by
incubation; and this phenomenon is observed especially with
pigeons.
Twin eggs have two yolks. In some twin eggs a thin partition of
white intervenes to prevent the yolks mixing with each other,
but some twin eggs are unprovided with such partition, and the
yokes run into one another. There are some hens that lay
nothing but twin eggs, and in their case the phenomenon
regarding the yolks has been observed. For instance, a hen has
been known to lay eighteen eggs, and to hatch twins out of
them all, except those that were wind-eggs; the rest were fertile
(though, by the way, one of the twins is always bigger than the
other), but the eighteenth was abnormal or monstrous.
1600
4
Birds of the pigeon kind, such as the ringdove and the turtledove, lay two eggs at a time; that is to say, they do so as a
general rule, and they never lay more than three. The pigeon, as
has been said, lays at all seasons; the ring-dove and the turtledove lay in the springtime, and they never lay more than twice
in the same season. The hen-bird lays the second pair of eggs
when the first pair happens to have been destroyed, for many of
the hen-pigeons destroy the first brood. The hen-pigeon, as has
been said, occasionally lays three eggs, but it never rears more
than two chicks, and sometimes rears only one; and the odd
one is always a wind-egg.
Very few birds propagate within their first year. All birds, after
once they have begun laying, keep on having eggs, though in the
case of some birds it is difficult to detect the fact from the
minute size of the creature.
The pigeon, as a rule, lays a male and a female egg, and
generally lays the male egg first; after laying it allows a days
interval to ensue and then lays the second egg. The male takes
its turn of sitting during the daytime; the female sits during the
night. The first-laid egg is hatched and brought to birth within
twenty days; and the mother bird pecks a hole in the egg the
day before she hatches it out. The two parent birds brood for
some time over the chicks in the way in which they brooded
previously over the eggs. In all connected with the rearing of the
young the female parent is more cross-tempered than the male,
as is the case with most animals after parturition. The hens lay
as many as ten times in the year; occasional instances have
been known of their laying eleven times, and in Egypt they
1601
actually lay twelve times. The pigeon, male and female, couples
within the year; in fact, it couples when only six months old.
Some assert that ringdoves and turtle-doves pair and procreate
when only three months old, and instance their superabundant
numbers by way of proof of the assertion. The hen-pigeon
carries her eggs fourteen days; for as many more days the
parent birds hatch the eggs; by the end of another fourteen days
the chicks are so far capable of flight as to be overtaken with
difficulty. (The ring-dove, according to all accounts, lives up to
forty years. The partridge lives over sixteen.) (After one brood
the pigeon is ready for another within thirty days.)
5
The vulture builds its nest on inaccessible cliffs; for which
reason its nest and young are rarely seen. And therefore
Herodorus, father of Bryson the Sophist, declares that vultures
belong to some foreign country unknown to us, stating as a
proof of the assertion that no one has ever seen a vultures nest,
and also that vultures in great numbers make a sudden
appearance in the rear of armies. However, difficult as it is to
get a sight of it, a vultures nest has been seen. The vulture lays
two eggs.
(Carnivorous birds in general are observed to lay but once a
year. The swallow is the only carnivorous bird that builds a nest
twice. If you prick out the eyes of swallow chicks while they are
yet young, the birds will get well again and will see by and by.)
1602
6
The eagle lays three eggs and hatches two of them, as it is said
in the verses ascribed to Musaeus:
That lays three, hatches two, and cares for one.
This is the case in most instances, though occasionally a brood
of three has been observed. As the young ones grow, the mother
becomes wearied with feeding them and extrudes one of the
pair from the nest. At the same time the bird is said to abstain
from food, to avoid harrying the young of wild animals. That is
to say, its wings blanch, and for some days its talons get turned
awry. It is in consequence about this time cross-tempered to its
own young. The phene is said to rear the young one that has
been expelled the nest. The eagle broods for about thirty days.
The hatching period is about the same for the larger birds, such
as the goose and the great bustard; for the middle-sized birds it
extends over about twenty days, as in the case of the kite and
the hawk. The kite in general lays two eggs, but occasionally
rears three young ones. The so-called aegolius at times rears
four. It is not true that, as some aver, the raven lays only two
eggs; it lays a larger number. It broods for about twenty days
and then extrudes its young. Other birds perform the same
operation; at all events mother birds that lay several eggs often
extrude one of their young.
Birds of the eagle species are not alike in the treatment of their
young. The white-tailed eagle is cross, the black eagle is
affectionate in the feeding of the young; though, by the way, all
birds of prey, when their brood is rather forward in being able to
fly, beat and extrude them from the nest. The majority of birds
other than birds of prey, as has been said, also act in this
manner, and after feeding their young take no further care of
them; but the crow is an exception. This bird for a considerable
1603
time takes charge of her young; for, even when her young can
fly, she flies alongside of them and supplies them with food.
7
The cuckoo is said by some to be a hawk transformed, because
at the time of the cuckoos coming, the hawk, which it
resembles, is never seen; and indeed it is only for a few days
that you will see hawks about when the cuckoos note sounds
early in the season. The cuckoo appears only for a short time in
summer, and in winter disappears. The hawk has crooked
talons, which the cuckoo has not; neither with regard to the
head does the cuckoo resemble the hawk. In point of fact, both
as regards the head and the claws it more resembles the pigeon.
However, in colour and in colour alone it does resemble the
hawk, only that the markings of the hawk are striped, and of the
cuckoo mottled. And, by the way, in size and flight it resembles
the smallest of the hawk tribe, which bird disappears as a rule
about the time of the appearance of the cuckoo, though the two
have been seen simultaneously. The cuckoo has been seen to be
preyed on by the hawk; and this never happens between birds
of the same species. They say no one has ever seen the young of
the cuckoo. The bird eggs, but does not build a nest. Sometimes
it lays its eggs in the nest of a smaller bird after first devouring
the eggs of this bird; it lays by preference in the nest of the
ringdove, after first devouring the eggs of the pigeon. (It
occasionally lays two, but usually one.) It lays also in the nest of
the hypolais, and the hypolais hatches and rears the brood. It is
about this time that the bird becomes fat and palatable. (The
young of hawks also get palatable and fat. One species builds a
nest in the wilderness and on sheer and inaccessible cliffs.)
1604
8
With most birds, as has been said of the pigeon, the hatching is
carried on by the male and the female in turns: with some birds,
however, the male only sits long enough to allow the female to
provide herself with food. In the goose tribe the female alone
incubates, and after once sitting on the eggs she continues
brooding until they are hatched.
The nests of all marsh-birds are built in districts fenny and well
supplied with grass; consequently, the mother-bird while sitting
quiet on her eggs can provide herself with food without having
to submit to absolute fasting.
With the crow also the female alone broods, and broods
throughout the whole period; the male bird supports the
female, bringing her food and feeding her. The female of the
ring-dove begins to brood in the afternoon and broods through
the entire night until breakfast-time of the following day; the
male broods during the rest of the time. Partridges build a nest
in two compartments; the male broods on the one and the
female on the other. After hatching, each of the parent birds
rears its brood. But the male, when he first takes his young out
of the nest, treads them.
9
Peafowl live for about twenty-five years, breed about the third
year, and at the same time take on their spangled plumage.
They hatch their eggs within thirty days or rather more. The
1605
peahen lays but once a year, and lays twelve eggs, or may be a
slightly lesser number: she does not lay all the eggs there and
then one after the other, but at intervals of two or three days.
Such as lay for the first time lay about eight eggs. The peahen
lays wind-eggs. They pair in the spring; and laying begins
immediately after pairing. The bird moults when the earliest
trees are shedding their leaves, and recovers its plumage when
the same trees are recovering their foliage. People that rear
peafowl put the eggs under the barn-door hen, owing to the fact
that when the peahen is brooding over them the peacock
attacks her and tries to trample on them; owing to this
circumstance some birds of wild varieties run away from the
males and lay their eggs and brood in solitude. Only two eggs
are put under a barn-door hen, for she could not brood over and
hatch a large number. They take every precaution, by supplying
her with food, to prevent her going off the eggs and
discontinuing the brooding.
With male birds about pairing time the testicles are obviously
larger than at other times, and this is conspicuously the case
with the more salacious birds, such as the barn-door cock and
the cock partridge; the peculiarity is less conspicuous in such
birds as are intermittent in regard to pairing.
10
So much for the conception and generation of birds.
It has been previously stated that fishes are not all oviparous.
Fishes of the cartilaginous genus are viviparous; the rest are
oviparous. And cartilaginous fishes are first oviparous internally
and subsequently viviparous; they rear the embryos internally,
the batrachus or fishing-frog being an exception.
1606
Fishes also, as was above stated, are provided with wombs, and
wombs of diverse kinds. The oviparous genera have wombs
bifurcate in shape and low down in position; the cartilaginous
genus have wombs shaped like those of O birds. The womb,
however, in the cartilaginous fishes differs in this respect from
the womb of birds, that with some cartilaginous fishes the eggs
do not settle close to the diaphragm but middle-ways along the
backbone, and as they grow they shift their position.
The egg with all fishes is not of two colours within but is of
even hue; and the colour is nearer to white than to yellow, and
that both when the young is inside it and previously as well.
Development from the egg in fishes differs from that in birds in
this respect, that it does not exhibit that one of the two navelstrings that leads off to the membrane that lies close under the
shell, while it does exhibit that one of the two that in the case
of birds leads off to the yolk. In a general way the rest of the
development from the egg onwards is identical in birds and
fishes. That is to say, development takes place at the upper part
of the egg, and the veins extend in like manner, at first from the
heart; and at first the head, the eyes, and the upper parts are
largest; and as the creature grows the egg-substance decreases
and eventually disappears, and becomes absorbed within the
embryo, just as takes place with the yolk in birds.
The navel-string is attached a little way below the aperture of
the belly. When the creatures are young the navel-string is long,
but as they grow it diminishes in size; at length it gets small
and becomes incorporated, as was described in the case of
birds. The embryo and the egg are enveloped by a common
membrane, and just under this is another membrane that
envelops the embryo by itself; and in between the two
membranes is a liquid. The food inside the stomach of the little
1607
1608
1609
11
At the breeding season the sperm-ducts of the male are filled
with sperm, so much so that if they be squeezed the sperm
flows out spontaneously as a white fluid; the ducts are
bifurcate, and start from the midriff and the great vein. About
this period the sperm-ducts of the male are quite distinct (from
the womb of the female) but at any other than the actual
breeding time their distinctness is not obvious to a non-expert.
The fact is that in certain fishes at certain times these organs
are imperceptible, as was stated regarding the testicles of birds.
Among other distinctions observed between the thoric ducts
and the womb-ducts is the circumstance that the thoric ducts
are attached to the loins, while the womb-ducts move about
freely and are attached by a thin membrane. The particulars
regarding the thoric ducts may be studied by a reference to the
diagrams in my treatise on Anatomy.
Cartilaginous fishes are capable of superfoetation, and their
period of gestation is six months at the longest. The so-called
starry dogfish bears young the most frequently; in other words
it bears twice a month. The breeding season is in the month of
Maemacterion. The dog-fish as a general rule bear twice in the
year, with the exception of the little dog-fish, which bears only
once a year. Some of them bring forth in the springtime. The
rhine, or angel-fish, bears its first brood in the springtime, and
its second in the autumn, about the winter setting of the
Pleiads; the second brood is the stronger of the two. The electric
ray brings forth in the late autumn.
1610
Cartilaginous fishes come out from the main seas and deep
waters towards the shore and there bring forth their young, and
they do so for the sake of warmth and by way of protection for
their young.
Observations would lead to the general rule that no one variety
of fish pairs with another variety. The angel-fish, however, and
the batus or skate appear to pair with one another; for there is a
fish called the rhinobatus, with the head and front parts of the
skate and the after parts of the rhine or angel-fish, just as
though it were made up of both fishes together.
Sharks then and their congeners, as the fox-shark and the dogfish, and the flat fishes, such as the electric ray, the ray, the
smooth skate, and the trygon, are first oviparous and then
viviparous in the way above mentioned, (as are also the sawfish and the ox-ray.)
12
The dolphin, the whale, and all the rest of the Cetacea, all, that
is to say, that are provided with a blow-hole instead of gills, are
viviparous. That is to say, no one of all these fishes is ever seen
to be supplied with eggs, but directly with an embryo from
whose differentiation comes the fish, just as in the case of
mankind and the viviparous quadrupeds.
The dolphin bears one at a time generally, but occasionally two.
The whale bears one or at the most two, generally two. The
porpoise in this respect resembles the dolphin, and, by the way,
it is in form like a little dolphin, and is found in the Euxine; it
differs, however, from the dolphin as being less in size and
1611
1612
13
Oviparous fishes have their womb bifurcate and placed low
down, as was said previously and, by the way, all scaly fish are
oviparous, as the basse, the mullet, the grey mullet, and the
etelis, and all the so-called white-fish, and all the smooth or
slippery fish except the eel and their roe is of a crumbling or
granular substance. This appearance is due to the fact that the
whole womb of such fishes is full of eggs, so that in little fishes
there seem to be only a couple of eggs there; for in small fishes
the womb is indistinguishable, from its diminutive size and thin
contexture. The pairing of fishes has been discussed previously.
Fishes for the most part are divided into males and females, but
one is puzzled to account for the erythrinus and the channa, for
specimens of these species are never caught except in a
condition of pregnancy.
With such fish as pair, eggs are the result of copulation, but
such fish have them also without copulation; and this is shown
1613
in the case of some river-fish, for the minnow has eggs when
quite small, almost, one may say, as soon as it is born. These
fishes shed their eggs little by little, and, as is stated, the males
swallow the greater part of them, and some portion of them
goes to waste in the water; but such of the eggs as the female
deposits on the spawning beds are saved. If all the eggs were
preserved, each species would be infinite in number. The greater
number of these eggs so deposited are not productive, but only
those over which the male sheds the milt or sperm; for when
the female has laid her eggs, the male follows and sheds its
sperm over them, and from all the eggs so besprinkled young
fishes proceed, while the rest are left to their fate.
The same phenomenon is observed in the case of molluscs also;
for in the case of the cuttlefish or sepia, after the female has
deposited her eggs, the male besprinkles them. It is highly
probable that a similar phenomenon takes place in regard to
molluscs in general, though up to the present time the
phenomenon has been observed only in the case of the
cuttlefish.
Fishes deposit their eggs close in to shore, the goby close to
stones; and, by the way, the spawn of the goby is flat and
crumbly. Fish in general so deposit their eggs; for the water
close in to shore is warm and is better supplied with food than
the outer sea, and serves as a protection to the spawn against
the voracity of the larger fish. And it is for this reason that in
the Euxine most fishes spawn near the mouth of the river
Thermodon, because the locality is sheltered, genial, and
supplied with fresh water.
Oviparous fish as a rule spawn only once a year. The little
phycis or black goby is an exception, as it spawns twice; the
male of the black goby differs from the female as being blacker
and having larger scales.
1614
1615
14
Marsh-fishes and river-fishes conceive at the age of five months
as a general rule, and deposit their spawn towards the close of
the year without exception. And with these fishes, like as with
the marine fishes, the female does not void all her eggs at one
time, nor the male his sperm; but they are at all times more or
less provided, the female with eggs, and the male with sperm.
The carp spawns as the seasons come round, five or six times,
and follows in spawning the rising of the greater constellations.
The chalcis spawns three times, and the other fishes once only
in the year. They all spawn in pools left by the overflowing of
rivers, and near to reedy places in marshes; as for instance the
phoxinus or minnow and the perch.
The glanis or sheat-fish and the perch deposit their spawn in
one continuous string, like the frog; so continuous, in fact, is the
convoluted spawn of the perch that, by reason of its
smoothness, the fishermen in the marshes can unwind it off
the reeds like threads off a reel. The larger individuals of the
sheat-fish spawn in deep waters, some in water of a fathoms
depth, the smaller in shallower water, generally close to the
roots of the willow or of some other tree, or close to reeds or to
moss. At times these fishes intertwine with one another, a big
with a little one, and bring into juxtaposition the ducts which
some writers designate as navels at the point where they emit
the generative products and discharge the egg in the case of the
female and the milt in the case of the male. Such eggs as are
besprinkled with the milt grow, in a day or thereabouts, whiter
and larger, and in a little while afterwards the fishs eyes
become visible for these organs in all fishes, as for that matter
in all other animals, are early conspicuous and seem
disproportionately big. But such eggs as the milt fails to touch
remain, as with marine fishes, useless and infertile. From the
fertile eggs, as the little fish grow, a kind of sheath detaches
1616
itself; this is a membrane that envelops the egg and the young
fish. When the milt has mingled with the eggs, the resulting
product becomes very sticky or viscous, and adheres to the
roots of trees or wherever it may have been laid. The male keeps
on guard at the principal spawning-place, and the female after
spawning goes away.
In the case of the sheat-fish the growth from the egg is
exceptionally slow, and, in consequence, the male has to keep
watch for forty or fifty days to prevent the spawn being
devoured by such little fishes as chance to come by. Next in
point of slowness is the generation of the carp. As with fishes in
general, so even with these, the spawn thus protected
disappears and gets lost rapidly.
In the case of some of the smaller fishes when they are only
three days old young fishes are generated. Eggs touched by the
male sperm take on increase both the same day and also later.
The egg of the sheat-fish is as big as a vetch-seed; the egg of the
carp and of the carp-species as big as a millet-seed.
These fishes then spawn and generate in the way here
described. The chalcis, however, spawns in deep water in dense
shoals of fish; and the so-called tilon spawns near to beaches in
sheltered spots in shoals likewise. The carp, the baleros, and
fishes in general push eagerly into the shallows for the purpose
of spawning, and very often thirteen or fourteen males are seen
following a single female. When the female deposits her spawn
and departs, the males follow on and shed the milt. The greater
portion of the spawn gets wasted; because, owing to the fact
that the female moves about while spawning, the spawn
scatters, or so much of it as is caught in the stream and does
not get entangled with some rubbish. For, with the exception of
the sheatfish, no fish keeps on guard; unless, by the way, it be
1617
15
The great majority of fish, then, as has been stated, proceed
from eggs. However, there are some fish that proceed from mud
and sand, even of those kinds that proceed also from pairing
and the egg. This occurs in ponds here and there, and especially
in a pond in the neighbourhood of Cnidos. This pond, it is said,
at one time ran dry about the rising of the Dogstar, and the mud
had all dried up; at the first fall of the rains there was a show of
water in the pond, and on the first appearance of the water
shoals of tiny fish were found in the pond. The fish in question
was a kind of mullet, one which does not proceed from normal
pairing, about the size of a small sprat, and not one of these
fishes was provided with either spawn or milt. There are found
also in Asia Minor, in rivers not communicating with the sea,
little fishes like whitebait, differing from the small fry found
near Cnidos but found under similar circumstances. Some
writers actually aver that mullet all grow spontaneously. In this
assertion they are mistaken, for the female of the fish is found
provided with spawn, and the male with milt. However, there is
a species of mullet that grows spontaneously out of mud and
sand.
1618
burrow under the ground. From the Phaleric fry comes the
membras, from the membras the trichis, from the trichis the
trichias, and from one particular sort of fry, to wit from that
found in the harbour of Athens, comes what is called the
encrasicholus, or anchovy. There is another fry, derived from the
maenis and the mullet.
The unfertile fry is watery and keeps only a short time, as has
been stated, for at last only head and eyes are left. However, the
fishermen of late have hit upon a method of transporting it to a
distance, as when salted it keeps for a considerable time.
16
Eels are not the issue of pairing, neither are they oviparous; nor
was an eel ever found supplied with either milt or spawn, nor
are they when cut open found to have within them passages for
spawn or for eggs. In point of fact, this entire species of blooded
animals proceeds neither from pair nor from the egg.
There can be no doubt that the case is so. For in some standing
pools, after the water has been drained off and the mud has
been dredged away, the eels appear again after a fall of rain. In
time of drought they do not appear even in stagnant ponds, for
the simple reason that their existence and sustenance is
derived from rain-water.
There is no doubt, then, that they proceed neither from pairing
nor from an egg. Some writers, however, are of opinion that they
generate their kind, because in some eels little worms are
found, from which they suppose that eels are derived. But this
opinion is not founded on fact. Eels are derived from the socalled earths guts that grow spontaneously in mud and in
1620
17
Fish do not all bring forth their young at the same season nor all
in like manner, neither is the period of gestation for all of the
same duration.
Before pairing the males and females gather together in shoals;
at the time for copulation and parturition they pair off. With
some fishes the time of gestation is not longer than thirty days,
with others it is a lesser period; but with all it extends over a
number of days divisible by seven. The longest period of
gestation is that of the species which some call a marinus.
The sargue conceives during the month of Poseideon (or
December), and carries its spawn for thirty days; and the
species of mullet named by some the chelon, and the myxon, go
with spawn at the same period and over the same length of
time.
All fish suffer greatly during the period of gestation, and are in
consequence very apt to be thrown up on shore at this time. In
some cases they are driven frantic with pain and throw
themselves on land. At all events they are throughout this time
1621
1622
rule, cartilaginous fish are less prolific than other fish owing to
their being viviparous; and their young by reason of their size
have a better chance of escaping destruction.
The so-called needle-fish (or pipe-fish) is late in spawning, and
the greater portion of them are burst asunder by the eggs before
spawning; and the eggs are not so many in number as large in
size. The young fish cluster round the parent like so many
young spiders, for the fish spawns on to herself; and, if any one
touch the young, they swim away. The atherine spawns by
rubbing its belly against the sand.
Tunny fish also burst asunder by reason of their fat. They live
for two years; and the fishermen infer this age from the
circumstance that once when there was a failure of the young
tunny fish for a year there was a failure of the full-grown tunny
the next summer. They are of opinion that the tunny is a fish a
year older than the pelamyd. The tunny and the mackerel pair
about the close of the month of Elaphebolion, and spawn about
the commencement of the month of Hecatombaeon; they
deposit their spawn in a sort of bag. The growth of the young
tunny is rapid. After the females have spawned in the Euxine,
there comes from the egg what some call scordylae, but what
the Byzantines nickname the auxids or growers, from their
growing to a considerable size in a few days; these fish go out of
the Pontus in autumn along with the young tunnies, and enter
Pontus in the spring as pelamyds. Fishes as a rule take on
growth with rapidity, but this is peculiarly the case with all
species of fish found in the Pontus; the growth, for instance, of
the amia-tunny is quite visible from day to day.
To resume, we must bear in mind that the same fish in the
same localities have not the same season for pairing, for
conception, for parturition, or for favouring weather. The
coracine, for instance, in some places spawns about wheat-
1623
18
We have, then, treated pretty fully of the animals that fly in the
air or swim in the water, and of such of those that walk on dry
land as are oviparous, to wit of their pairing, conception, and
the like phenomena; it now remains to treat of the same
phenomena in connexion with viviparous land animals and
with man.
The statements made in regard to the pairing of the sexes apply
partly to the particular kinds of animal and partly to all in
general. It is common to all animals to be most excited by the
desire of one sex for the other and by the pleasure derived from
copulation. The female is most cross-tempered just after
parturition, the male during the time of pairing; for instance,
stallions at this period bite one another, throw their riders, and
chase them. Wild boars, though usually enfeebled at this time
as the result of copulation, are now unusually fierce, and fight
with one another in an extraordinary way, clothing themselves
with defensive armour, or in other words deliberately
1624
1625
1627
1628
19
Ewes conceive after three or four copulations with the ram. If
rain falls after intercourse, the ram impregnates the ewe again;
and it is the same with the she-goat. The ewe bears usually two
1629
1630
shepherds say that it bodes well for the flock; if the younger
ones, that the flock is going to be bad.
20
Of dogs there are several breeds. Of these the Laconian hound of
either sex is fit for breeding purposes when eight months old: at
about the same age some dogs lift the leg when voiding urine.
The bitch conceives with one lining; this is clearly seen in the
case where a dog contrives to line a bitch by stealth, as they
impregnate after mounting only once. The Laconian bitch
carries her young the sixth part of a year or sixty days: or more
by one, two, or three, or less by one; the pups are blind for
twelve days after birth. After pupping, the bitch gets in heat
again in six months, but not before. Some bitches carry their
young for the fifth part of the year or for seventy-two days; and
their pups are blind for fourteen days. Other bitches carry their
young for a quarter of a year or for three whole months; and the
whelps of these are blind for seventeen days. The bitch appears
go in heat for the same length of time. Menstruation continues
for seven days, and a swelling of the genital organ occurs
simultaneously; it is not during this period that the bitch is
disposed to submit to the dog, but in the seven days that follow.
The bitch as a rule goes in heat for fourteen days, but
occasionally
for
sixteen. The
birth-discharge
occurs
simultaneously with the delivery of the whelps, and the
substance of it is thick and mucous. (The falling-off in bulk on
the part of the mother is not so great as might have been
inferred from the size of her frame.) The bitch is usually
supplied with milk five days before parturition; some seven
days previously, some four; and the milk is serviceable
immediately after birth. The Laconian bitch is supplied with
1631
milk thirty days after lining. The milk at first is thickish, but
gets thinner by degrees; with the bitch the milk is thicker than
with the female of any other animal excepting the sow and the
hare. When the bitch arrives at full growth an indication is given
of her capacity for the male; that is to say, just as occurs in the
female of the human species, a swelling takes place in the teats
of the breasts, and the breasts take on gristle. This incident,
however, it is difficult for any but an expert to detect, as the part
that gives the indication is inconsiderable. The preceding
statements relate to the female, and not one of them to the
male. The male as a rule lifts his leg to void urine when six
months old; some at a later period, when eight months old,
some before they reach six months. In a general way one may
put it that they do so when they are out of puppyhood. The
bitch squats down when she voids urine; it is a rare exception
that she lifts the leg to do so. The bitch bears twelve pups at the
most, but usually five or six; occasionally a bitch will bear one
only. The bitch of the Laconian breed generally bears eight. The
two sexes have intercourse with each other at all periods of life.
A very remarkable phenomenon is observed in the case of the
Laconian hound: in other words, he is found to be more
vigorous in commerce with the female after being hard-worked
than when allowed to live idle.
The dog of the Laconian breed lives ten years, and the bitch
twelve. The bitch of other breeds usually lives for fourteen or
fifteen years, but some live to twenty; and for this reason
certain critics consider that Homer did well in representing the
dog of Ulysses as having died in his twentieth year. With the
Laconian hound, owing to the hardships to which the male is
put, he is less long-lived than the female; with other breeds the
distinction as to longevity is not very apparent, though as a
general rule the male is the longer-lived.
1632
21
The bull impregnates the cow at a single mount, and mounts
with such vigour as to weigh down the cow; if his effort be
unsuccessful, the cow must be allowed an interval of twenty
days before being again submitted. Bulls of mature age decline
to mount the same cow several times on one day, except, by the
way, at considerable intervals. Young bulls by reason of their
vigour are enabled to mount the same cow several times in one
day, and a good many cows besides. The bull is the least
salacious of male animals.... The victor among the bulls is the
one that mounts the females; when he gets exhausted by his
amorous efforts, his beaten antagonist sets on him and very
often gets the better of the conflict. The bull and the cow are
about a year old when it is possible for them to have commerce
with chance of offspring: as a rule, however, they are about
twenty months old, but it is universally allowed that they are
capable in this respect at the age of two years. The cow goes
with calf for nine months, and she calves in the tenth month;
some maintain that they go in calf for ten months, to the very
day. A calf delivered before the times here specified is an
1633
abortion and never lives, however little premature its birth may
have been, as its hooves are weak and imperfect. The cow as a
rule bears but one calf, very seldom two; she submits to the bull
and bears as long as she lives.
Cows live for about fifteen years, and the bulls too, if they have
been castrated; but some live for twenty years or even more, if
their bodily constitutions be sound. The herdsmen tame the
castrated bulls, and give them an office in the herd analogous to
the office of the bell-wether in a flock; and these bulls live to an
exceptionally advanced age, owing to their exemption from
hardship and to their browsing on pasture of good quality. The
bull is in fullest vigour when five years old, which leads the
critics to commend Homer for applying to the bull the epithets
of five-year-old, or of nine seasons, which epithets are alike in
meaning. The ox sheds his teeth at the age of two years, not all
together but just as the horse sheds his. When the animal
suffers from podagra it does not shed the hoof, but is subject to
a painful swelling in the feet. The milk of the cow is serviceable
after parturition, and before parturition there is no milk at all.
The milk that first presents itself becomes as hard as stone
when it clots; this result ensues unless it be previously diluted
with water. Oxen younger than a year old do not copulate
unless under circumstances of an unnatural and portentous
kind: instances have been recorded of copulation in both sexes
at the age of four months. Kine in general begin to submit to the
male about the month of Thargelion or of Scirophorion; some,
however, are capable of conception right on to the autumn.
When kine in large numbers receive the bull and conceive, it is
looked upon as prognostic of rain and stormy weather. Kine
herd together like mares, but in lesser degree.
1634
22
In the case of horses, the stallion and the mare are first fitted
for breeding purposes when two years old. Instances, however,
of such early maturity are rare, and their young are
exceptionally small and weak; the ordinary age for sexual
maturity is three years, and from that age to twenty the two
sexes go on improving in the quality of their offspring. The mare
carries her foal for eleven months, and casts it in the twelfth. It
is not a fixed number of days that the stallion takes to
impregnate the mare; it may be one, two, three, or more. An ass
in covering will impregnate more expeditiously than a stallion.
The act of intercourse with horses is not laborious as it is with
oxen. In both sexes the horse is the most salacious of animals
next after the human species. The breeding faculties of the
younger horses may be stimulated beyond their years if they be
supplied with good feeding in abundance. The mare as a rule
bears only one foal; occasionally she has two, but never more. A
mare has been known to cast two mules; but such a
circumstance was regarded as unnatural and portentous.
The horse then is first fitted for breeding purposes at the age of
two and a half years, but achieves full sexual maturity when it
has ceased to shed teeth, except it be naturally infertile; it must
be added, however, that some horses have been known to
impregnate the mare while the teeth were in process of
shedding.
The horse has forty teeth. It sheds its first set of four, two from
the upper jaw and two from the lower, when two and a half
years old. After a years interval, it sheds another set of four in
like manner, and another set of four after yet another years
interval; after arriving at the age of four years and six months it
sheds no more. An instance has occurred where a horse shed all
his teeth at once, and another instance of a horse shedding all
1635
his teeth with his last set of four; but such instances are very
rare. It consequently happens that a horse when four and a half
years old is in excellent condition for breeding purposes.
The older horses, whether of the male or female, are the more
generatively productive. Horses will cover mares from which
they have been foaled and mares which they have begotten;
and, indeed, a troop of horses is only considered perfect when
such promiscuity of intercourse occurs. Scythians use pregnant
mares for riding when the embryo has turned rather soon in the
womb, and they assert that thereby the mothers have all the
easier delivery. Quadrupeds as a rule lie down for parturition,
and in consequence the young of them all come out of the
womb sideways. The mare, however, when the time for
parturition arrives, stands erect and in that posture casts its
foal.
The horse in general lives for eighteen or twenty years; some
horses live for twenty-five or even thirty, and if a horse be
treated with extreme care, it may last on to the age of fifty
years; a horse, however, when it reaches thirty years is regarded
as exceptionally old. The mare lives usually for twenty-five
years, though instances have occurred of their attaining the age
of forty. The male is less long-lived than the female by reason of
the sexual service he is called on to render; and horses that are
reared in a private stable live longer than such as are reared in
troops. The mare attains her full length and height at five years
old, the stallion at six; in another six years the animal reaches
its full bulk, and goes on improving until it is twenty years old.
The female, then, reaches maturity more rapidly than the male,
but in the womb the case is reversed, just as is observed in
regard to the sexes of the human species; and the same
phenomenon is observed in the case of all animals that bear
several young.
1636
The mare is said to suckle a mule-foal for six months, but not to
allow its approach for any longer on account of the pain it is put
to by the hard tugging of the young; an ordinary foal it allows to
suck for a longer period.
Horse and mule are at their best after the shedding of the teeth.
After they have shed them all, it is not easy to distinguish their
age; hence they are said to carry their mark before the
shedding, but not after. However, even after the shedding their
age is pretty well recognized by the aid of the canines; for in the
case of horses much ridden these teeth are worn away by
attrition caused by the insertion of the bit; in the case of horses
not ridden the teeth are large and detached, and in young
horses they are sharp and small.
The male of the horse will breed at all seasons and during its
whole life; the mare can take the horse all its life long, but is not
thus ready to pair at all seasons unless it be held in check by a
halter or some other compulsion be brought to bear. There is no
fixed time at which intercourse of the two sexes cannot take
place; and accordingly intercourse may chance to take place at
a time that may render difficult the rearing of the future
progeny. In a stable in Opus there was a stallion that used to
serve mares when forty years old: his fore legs had to be lifted
up for the operation.
Mares first take the horse in the spring-time. After a mare has
foaled she does not get impregnated at once again, but only
after a considerable interval; in fact, the foals will be all the
better if the interval extend over four or five years. It is, at all
events, absolutely necessary to allow an interval of one year,
and for that period to let her lie fallow. A mare, then, breeds at
intervals; a she-ass breeds on and on without intermission. Of
mares some are absolutely sterile, others are capable of
conception but incapable of bringing the foal to full term; it is
1637
23
The ass of both sexes is capable of breeding, and sheds its first
teeth at the age of two and a half years; it sheds its second teeth
within six months, its third within another six months, and the
fourth after the like interval. These fourth teeth are termed the
gnomons or age-indicators.
A she-ass has been known to conceive when a year old, and the
foal to be reared. After intercourse with the male it will
discharge the genital sperm unless it be hindered, and for this
reason it is usually beaten after such intercourse and chased
1638
1639
24
A mule is fitted for commerce with the female after the first
shedding of its teeth, and at the age of seven will impregnate
effectually; and where connexion has taken place with a mare,
a hinny has been known to be produced. After the seventh year
it has no further intercourse with the female. A female mule
has been known to be impregnated, but without the
impregnation being followed up by parturition. In Syrophoenicia
she-mules submit to the mule and bear young; but the breed,
though it resembles the ordinary one, is different and specific.
The hinny or stunted mule is foaled by a mare when she has
gone sick during gestation, and corresponds to the dwarf in the
human species and to the after-pig or scut in swine; and as is
the case with dwarfs, the sexual organ of the hinny is
abnormally large.
The mule lives for a number of years. There are on record cases
of mules living to the age of eighty, as did one in Athens at the
time of the building of the temple; this mule on account of its
age was let go free, but continued to assist in dragging burdens,
and would go side by side with the other draught-beasts and
stimulate them to their work; and in consequence a public
decree was passed forbidding any baker driving the creature
away from his bread-tray. The she-mule grows old more slowly
than the mule. Some assert that the she-mule menstruates by
the act of voiding her urine, and that the mule owes the
prematurity of his decay to his habit of smelling at the urine. So
much for the modes of generation in connexion with these
animals.
1640
25
Breeders and trainers can distinguish between young and old
quadrupeds. If, when drawn back from the jaw, the skin at once
goes back to its place, the animal is young; if it remains long
wrinkled up, the animal is old.
26
The camel carries its young for ten months, and bears but one
at a time and never more; the young camel is removed from the
mother when a year old. The animal lives for a long period,
more than fifty years. It bears in spring-time, and gives milk
until the time of the next conception. Its flesh and milk are
exceptionally palatable. The milk is drunk mixed with water in
the proportion of either two to one or three to one.
27
The elephant of either sex is fitted for breeding before reaching
the age of twenty. The female carries her young, according to
some accounts, for two and a half years; according to others, for
three years; and the discrepancy in the assigned periods is due
to the fact that there are never human eyewitnesses to the
commerce between the sexes. The female settles down on its
rear to cast its young, and obviously suffers greatly during the
process. The young one, immediately after birth, sucks the
mother, not with its trunk but with the mouth; and can walk
about and see distinctly the moment it is born.
1641
28
The wild sow submits to the boar at the beginning of winter,
and in the spring-time retreats for parturition to a lair in some
district inaccessible to intrusion, hemmed in with sheer cliffs
and chasms and overshadowed by trees. The boar usually
remains by the sow for thirty days. The number of the litter and
the period gestation is the same as in the case of the
domesticated congener. The sound of the grunt also is similar;
only that the sow grunts continually, and the boar but seldom.
Of the wild boars such as are castrated grow to the largest size
and become fiercest: to which circumstance Homer alludes
when he says:
He reared against him a wild castrated boar: it was not like a
food-devouring brute, but like a forest-clad promontory.
Wild boars become castrated owing to an itch befalling them in
early life in the region of the testicles, and the castration is
superinduced by their rubbing themselves against the trunks of
trees.
29
The hind, as has been stated, submits to the stag as a rule only
under compulsion, as she is unable to endure the male often
owing to the rigidity of the penis. However, they do occasionally
submit to the stag as the ewe submits ram; and when they are
in heat the hinds avoid one another. The stag is not constant to
one particular hind, but after a while quits one and mates with
1642
1643
30
Bears, as has been previously stated, do not copulate with the
male mounting the back of the female, but with the female
lying down under the male. The she-bear goes with young for
thirty days. She brings forth sometimes one cub, sometimes two
cubs, and at most five. Of all animals the newly born cub of the
she bear is the smallest in proportion to the size of the mother;
that is to say, it is larger than a mouse but smaller than a
weasel. It is also smooth and blind, and its legs and most of its
organs are as yet inarticulate. Pairing takes Place in the month
of Elaphebolion, and parturition about the time for retiring into
winter quarters; about this time the bear and the she-bear are
at the fattest. After the she-bear has reared her young, she
comes out of her winter lair in the third month, when it is
already spring. The female porcupine, by the way, hibernates
1644
and goes with young the same number of days as the she-bear,
and in all respects as to parturition resembles this animal.
When a she-bear is with young, it is a very hard task to catch
her.
31
It has already been stated that the lion and lioness copulate
rearwards, and that these animals are opisthuretic. They do not
copulate nor bring forth at all seasons indiscriminately, but
once in the year only. The lioness brings forth in the spring,
generally two cubs at a time, and six at the very most; but
sometimes only one. The story about the lioness discharging her
womb in the act of parturition is a pure fable, and was merely
invented to account for the scarcity of the animal; for the
animal is, as is well known, a rare animal, and is not found in
many countries. In fact, in the whole of Europe it is only found
in the strip between the rivers Achelous and Nessus. The cubs of
the lioness when newly born are exceedingly small, and can
scarcely walk when two months old. The Syrian lion bears cubs
five times: five cubs at the first litter, then four, then three, then
two, and lastly one; after this the lioness ceases to bear for the
rest of her days. The lioness has no mane, but this appendage is
peculiar to the lion. The lion sheds only the four so-called
canines, two in the upper jaw and two in the lower; and it sheds
them when it is six months old.
1645
32
The hyena in colour resembles the wolf, but is more shaggy, and
is furnished with a mane running all along the spine. What is
recounted concerning its genital organs, to the effect that every
hyena is furnished with the organ both of the male and the
female, is untrue. The fact is that the sexual organ of the male
hyena resembles the same organ in the wolf and in the dog; the
part resembling the female genital organ lies underneath the
tail, and does to some extent resemble the female organ, but it
is unprovided with duct or passage, and the passage for the
residuum comes underneath it. The female hyena has the part
that resembles the organ of the male, and, as in the case of the
male, has it underneath her tail, unprovided with duct or
passage; and after it the passage for the residuum, and
underneath this the true female genital organ. The female
hyena has a womb, like all other female animals of the same
kind. It is an exceedingly rare circumstance to meet with a
female hyena. At least a hunter said that out of eleven hyenas
he had caught, only one was a female.
33
Hares copulate in a rearward posture, as has been stated, for the
animal is opisthuretic. They breed and bear at all seasons,
superfoetate during pregnancy, and bear young every month.
They do not give birth to their young ones all together at one
time, but bring them forth at intervals over as many days as the
circumstances of each case may require. The female is supplied
with milk before parturition; and after bearing submits
immediately to the male, and is capable of conception while
suckling her young. The milk in consistency resembles sows
1646
milk. The young are born blind, as is the case with the greater
part Of the fissipeds or toed animals.
34
The fox mounts the vixen in copulation, and the vixen bears
young like the she-bear; in fact, her young ones are even more
inarticulately formed. Before parturition she retires to
sequestered places, so that it is a great rarity for a vixen to be
caught while pregnant. After parturition she warms her young
and gets them into shape by licking them. She bears four at
most at a birth.
35
The wolf resembles the dog in regard to the time of conception
and parturition, the number of the litter, and the blindness of
the newborn young. The sexes couple at one special period, and
the female brings forth at the beginning of the summer. There is
an account given of the parturition of the she-wolf that borders
on the fabulous, to the effect that she confines her lying-in to
within twelve particular days of the year. And they give the
reason for this in the form of a myth, viz. that when they
transported Leto in so many days from the land of the
Hyperboreans to the island of Delos, she assumed the form of a
she-wolf to escape the anger of Here. Whether the account be
correct or not has not yet been verified; I give it merely as it is
currently told. There is no more of truth in the current
1647
statement that the she-wolf bears once and only once in her
lifetime.
The cat and the ichneumon bear as many young as the dog, and
live on the same food; they live about six years. The cubs of the
panther are born blind like those of the wolf, and the female
bears four at the most at one birth. The particulars of
conception are the same for the thos, or civet, as for the dog; the
cubs of the animal are born blind, and the female bears two, or
three, or four at a birth. It is long in the body and low in stature;
but not withstanding the shortness of its legs it is exceptionally
fleet of foot, owing to the suppleness of its frame and its
capacity for leaping.
36
There is found in Syria a so-called mule. It is not the same as
the cross between the horse and ass, but resembles it just as a
wild ass resembles the domesticated congener, and derives its
name from the resemblance. Like the wild ass, this wild mule is
remarkable for its speed. The animals of this species interbreed
with one another; and a proof of this statement may be
gathered from the fact that a certain number of them were
brought into Phrygia in the time of Pharnaces, the father of
Pharnabazus, and the animal is there still. The number
originally introduced was nine, and there are three there at the
present day.
1648
37
The phenomena of generation in regard to the mouse are the
most astonishing both for the number of the young and for the
rapidity of recurrence in the births. On one occasion a shemouse in a state of pregnancy was shut up by accident in a jar
containing millet-seed, and after a little while the lid of the jar
was removed and upwards of one hundred and twenty mice
were found inside it.
The rate of propagation of field mice in country places, and the
destruction that they cause, are beyond all telling. In many
places their number is so incalculable that but very little of the
corn-crop is left to the farmer; and so rapid is their mode of
proceeding that sometimes a small farmer will one day observe
that it is time for reaping, and on the following morning, when
he takes his reapers afield, he finds his entire crop devoured.
Their disappearance is unaccountable: in a few days not a
mouse will there be to be seen. And yet in the time before these
few days men fail to keep down their numbers by fumigating
and unearthing them, or by regularly hunting them and turning
in swine upon them; for pigs, by the way, turn up the mouseholes by rooting with their snouts. Foxes also hunt them, and
the wild ferrets in particular destroy them, but they make no
way against the prolific qualities of the animal and the rapidity
of its breeding. When they are super-abundant, nothing
succeeds in thinning them down except the rain; but after
heavy rains they disappear rapidly.
In a certain district of Persia when a female mouse is dissected
the female embryos appear to be pregnant. Some people assert,
and positively assert, that a female mouse by licking salt can
become pregnant without the intervention of the male.
Mice in Egypt are covered with bristles like the hedgehog. There
is also a different breed of mice that walk on their two hind-
1649
legs; their front legs are small and their hind-legs long; the
breed is exceedingly numerous. There are many other breeds of
mice than are here referred to.
Book VII
1
As to Mans growth, first within his mothers womb and
afterward to old age, the course of nature, in so far as man is
specially concerned, is after the following manner. And, by the
way, the difference of male and female and of their respective
organs has been dealt with heretofore. When twice seven years
old, in the most of cases, the male begins to engender seed; and
at the same time hair appears upon the pubes, in like manner,
so Alcmaeon of Croton remarks, as plants first blossom and
then seed. About the same time, the voice begins to alter,
getting harsher and more uneven, neither shrill as formerly nor
deep as afterward, nor yet of any even tone, but like an
instrument whose strings are frayed and out of tune; and it is
called, by way of by-word, the bleat of the billy-goat. Now this
breaking of the voice is the more apparent in those who are
making trial of their sexual powers; for in those who are prone
to lustfulness the voice turns into the voice of a man, but not so
in the continent. For if a lad strive diligently to hinder his voice
from breaking, as some do of those who devote themselves to
music, the voice lasts a long while unbroken and may even
1650
persist with little change. And the breasts swell and likewise the
private parts, altering in size and shape. (And by the way, at this
time of life those who try by friction to provoke emission of
seed are apt to experience pain as well as voluptuous
sensations.) At the same age in the female, the breasts swell
and the so-called catamenia commence to flow; and this fluid
resembles fresh blood. There is another discharge, a white one,
by the way, which occurs in girls even at a very early age, more
especially if their diet be largely of a fluid nature; and this
malady causes arrest of growth and loss of flesh. In the majority
of cases the catamenia are noticed by the time the breasts have
grown to the height of two fingers breadth. In girls, too, about
this time the voice changes to a deeper note; for while in
general the womans voice is higher than the mans, so also the
voices of girls are pitched in a higher key than the elder
womens, just as the boys are higher than the mens; and the
girls voices are shriller than the boys, and a maids flute is
tuned sharper than a lads.
Girls of this age have much need of surveillance. For then in
particular they feel a natural impulse to make usage of the
sexual faculties that are developing in them; so that unless they
guard against any further impulse beyond that inevitable one
which their bodily development of itself supplies, even in the
case of those who abstain altogether from passionate
indulgence, they contract habits which are apt to continue into
later life. For girls who give way to wantonness grow more and
more wanton; and the same is true of boys, unless they be
safeguarded from one temptation and another; for the passages
become dilated and set up a local flux or running, and besides
this the recollection of pleasure associated with former
indulgence creates a longing for its repetition.
Some men are congenitally impotent owing to structural defect;
and in like manner women also may suffer from congenital
1651
1652
2
The onset of the catamenia in women takes place towards the
end of the month; and on this account the wiseacres assert that
the moon is feminine, because the discharge in women and the
waning of the moon happen at one and the same time, and
after the wane and the discharge both one and the other grow
whole again. (In some women the catamenia occur regularly but
sparsely every month, and more abundantly every third month.)
With those in whom the ailment lasts but a little while, two
days or three, recovery is easy; but where the duration is longer,
the ailment is more troublesome. For women are ailing during
these days; and sometimes the discharge is sudden and
sometimes gradual, but in all cases alike there is bodily distress
until the attack be over. In many cases at the commencement of
the attack, when the discharge is about to appear, there occur
1653
spasms and rumbling noises within the womb until such time
as the discharge manifests itself.
Under natural conditions it is after recovery from these
symptoms that conception takes place in women, and women
in whom the signs do not manifest themselves for the most
part remain childless. But the rule is not without exception, for
some conceive in spite of the absence of these symptoms; and
these are cases in which a secretion accumulates, not in such a
way as actually to issue forth, but in amount equal to the
residuum left in the case of child-bearing women after the
normal discharge has taken place. And some conceive while the
signs are on but not afterwards, those namely in whom the
womb closes up immediately after the discharge. In some cases
the menses persist during pregnancy up to the very last; but the
result in these cases is that the offspring are poor, and either
fail to survive or grow up weakly.
In many cases, owing to excessive desire, arising either from
youthful impetuosity or from lengthened abstinence, prolapsion
of the womb takes place and the catamenia appear repeatedly,
thrice in the month, until conception occurs; and then the
womb withdraws upwards again to its proper place...
As we have remarked above, the discharge is wont to be more
abundant in women than in the females of any other animals.
In creatures that do not bring forth their young alive nothing of
the sort manifests itself, this particular superfluity being
converted into bodily substance; and by the way, in such
animals the females are sometimes larger than the males; and
moreover, the material is used up sometimes for scutes and
sometimes for scales, and sometimes for the abundant covering
of feathers, whereas in the vivipara possessed of limbs it is
turned into hair and into bodily substance (for man alone
among them is smooth-skinned), and into urine, for this
1654
3
It is a sign of conception in women when the place is dry
immediately after intercourse. If the lips of the orifice be
smooth conception is difficult, for the matter slips off; and if
they be thick it is also difficult. But if on digital examination the
lips feel somewhat rough and adherent, and if they be likewise
thin, then the chances are in favour of conception. Accordingly,
if conception be desired, we must bring the parts into such a
condition as we have just described; but if on the contrary we
want to avoid conception then we must bring about a contrary
disposition. Wherefore, since if the parts be smooth conception
is prevented, some anoint that part of the womb on which the
seed falls with oil of cedar, or with ointment of lead or with
frankincense, commingled with olive oil. If the seed remain
within for seven days then it is certain that conception has
1655
1656
4
When the womb has conceived the seed, straightway in the
majority of cases it closes up until seven months are fulfilled;
but in the eighth month it opens, and the embryo, if it be fertile,
descends in the eighth month. But such embryos as are not
fertile but are devoid of breath at eight months old, their
mothers do not bring into the world by parturition at eight
months, neither does the embryo descend within the womb at
that period nor does the womb open. And it is a sign that the
1657
embryo is not capable of life if it be formed without the abovenamed circumstances taking place.
After conception women are prone to a feeling of heaviness in
all parts of their bodies, and for instance they experience a
sensation of darkness in front of the eyes and suffer also from
headache. These symptoms appear sooner or later, sometimes
as early as the tenth day, according as the patient be more or
less burthened with superfluous humours. Nausea also and
sickness affect the most of women, and especially such as those
that we have just now mentioned, after the menstrual discharge
has ceased and before it is yet turned in the direction of the
breasts.
Moreover, some women suffer most at the beginning of their
pregnancy and some at a later period when the embryo has had
time to grow; and in some women it is a common occurrence to
suffer from strangury towards the end of their time. As a
general rule women who are pregnant of a male child escape
comparatively easily and retain a comparatively healthy look,
but it is otherwise with those whose infant is a female; for these
latter look as a rule paler and suffer more pain, and in many
cases they are subject to swellings of the legs and eruptions on
the body. Nevertheless the rule is subject to exceptions.
Women in pregnancy are a prey to all sorts of longings and to
rapid changes of mood, and some folks call this the ivysickness; and with the mothers of female infants the longings
are more acute, and they are less contented when they have got
what they desired.
In a certain few cases the patient feels unusually well during
pregnancy. The worst time of all is just when the childs hair is
beginning to grow.
1658
1659
these places the eight-months children live and are brought up,
but in Greece it is only a few of them that survive while most
perish. And this being the general experience, when such a child
does happen to survive the mother is apt to think that it was
not an eight months child after all, but that she had conceived
at an earlier period without being aware of it.
Women suffer most pain about the fourth and the eighth
months, and if the foetus perishes in the fourth or in the eighth
month the mother also succumbs as a general rule; so that not
only do the eight-months children not live, but when they die
their mothers are in great danger of their own lives. In like
manner children that are apparently born at a later term than
eleven months are held to be in doubtful case; inasmuch as
with them also the beginning of conception may have escaped
the notice of the mother. What I mean to say is that often the
womb gets filled with wind, and then when at a later period
connexion and conception take place, they think that the
former circumstance was the beginning of conception from the
similarity of the symptoms that they experienced.
Such then are the differences between mankind and other
animals in regard to the many various modes of completion of
the term of pregnancy. Furthermore, some animals produce one
and some produce many at a birth, but the human species does
sometimes the one and sometimes the other. As a general rule
and among most nations the women bear one child a birth; but
frequently and in many lands they bear twins, as for instance in
Egypt especially. Sometimes women bring forth three and even
four children, and especially in certain parts of the world, as has
already been stated. The largest number ever brought forth is
five, and such an occurrence has been witnessed on several
occasions. There was once upon a time a certain women who
had twenty children at four births; each time she had five, and
most of them grew up.
1660
1661
of full term; and of these the first died and the other two
survived.
Some also have been known to conceive while about to
miscarry, and they have lost the one child and been delivered of
the other.
If women while going with child cohabit after the eighth month
the child is in most cases born covered over with a slimy fluid.
Often also the child is found to be replete with food of which
the mother had partaken.
5
When women have partaken of salt in overabundance their
children are apt to be born destitute of nails.
Milk that is produced earlier than the seventh month is unfit for
use; but as soon as the child is fit to live the milk is fit to use.
The first of the milk is saltish, as it is likewise with sheep. Most
women are sensibly affected by wine during pregnancy, for if
they partake of it they grow relaxed and debilitated.
The beginning of child-bearing in women and of the capacity to
procreate in men, and the cessation of these functions in both
cases, coincide in the one case with the emission of seed and in
the other with the discharge of the catamenia: with this
qualification that there is a lack of fertility at the
commencement of these symptoms, and again towards their
close when the emissions become scanty and weak. The age at
which the sexual powers begin has been related already. As for
their end, the menstrual discharges ceases in most women
about their fortieth year; but with those in whom it goes on
1662
longer it lasts even to the fiftieth year, and women of that age
have been known to bear children. But beyond that age there is
no case on record.
6
Men in most cases continue to be sexually competent until they
are sixty years old, and if that limit be overpassed then until
seventy years; and men have been actually known to procreate
children at seventy years of age. With many men and many
women it so happens that they are unable to produce children
to one another, while they are able to do so in union with other
individuals. The same thing happens with regard to the
production of male and female offspring; for sometimes men
and women in union with one another produce male children
or female, as the case may be, but children of the opposite sex
when otherwise mated. And they are apt to change in this
respect with advancing age: for sometimes a husband and wife
while they are young produce female children and in later life
male children; and in other cases the very contrary occurs. And
just the same thing is true in regard to the generative faculty:
for some while young are childless, but have children when
they grow older; and some have children to begin with, and
later on no more.
There are certain women who conceive with difficulty, but if
they do conceive, bring the child to maturity; while others again
conceive readily, but are unable to bring the child to birth.
Furthermore, some men and some women produce female
offspring and some male, as for instance in the story of
Hercules, who among all his two and seventy children is said to
have begotten but one girl. Those women who are unable to
1663
1664
7
In the emission of sperm there is a preliminary discharge of air,
and the outflow is manifestly caused by a blast of air; for
nothing is cast to a distance save by pneumatic pressure. After
the seed reaches the womb and remains there for a while, a
membrane forms around it; for when it happens to escape
before it is distinctly formed, it looks like an egg enveloped in its
membrane after removal of the eggshell; and the membrane is
full of veins.
All animals whatsoever, whether they fly or swim or walk upon
dry land, whether they bring forth their young alive or in the
egg, develop in the same way: save only that some have the
navel attached to the womb, namely the viviparous animals,
and some have it attached to the egg, and some to both parts
alike, as in a certain sort of fishes. And in some cases
membranous envelopes surround the egg, and in other cases
the chorion surrounds it. And first of all the animal develops
within the innermost envelope, and then another membrane
appears around the former one, which latter is for the most part
attached to the womb, but is in part separated from it and
contains fluid. In between is a watery or sanguineous fluid,
which the women folk call the forewaters.
1665
8
All animals, or all such as have a navel, grow by the navel. And
the navel is attached to the cotyledon in all such as possess
cotyledons, and to the womb itself by a vein in all such as have
the womb smooth. And as regards their shape within the womb,
the four-footed animals all lie stretched out, and the footless
animals lie on their sides, as for instance fishes; but two-legged
animals lie in a bent position, as for instance birds; and human
embryos lie bent, with nose between the knees and eyes upon
the knees, and the ears free at the sides.
All animals alike have the head upwards to begin with; but as
they grow and approach the term of egress from the womb they
turn downwards, and birth in the natural course of things takes
place in all animals head foremost; but in abnormal cases it
may take place in a bent position, or feet foremost.
The young of quadrupeds when they are near their full time
contain excrements, both liquid and in the form of solid lumps,
the latter in the lower part of the bowel and the urine in the
bladder.
In those animals that have cotyledons in the womb the
cotyledons grow less as the embryo grows bigger, and at length
they disappear altogether. The navel-string is a sheath wrapped
about blood-vessels which have their origin in the womb, from
the cotyledons in those animals which possess them and from
a blood-vessel in those which do not. In the larger animals, such
as the embryos of oxen, the vessels are four in number, and in
smaller animals two; in the very little ones, such as fowls, one
vessel only.
Of the four vessels that run into the embryo, two pass through
the liver where the so-called gates or portae are, running in the
1666
direction of the great vein, and the other two run in the
direction of the aorta towards the point where it divides and
becomes two vessels instead of one. Around each pair of bloodvessels are membranes, and surrounding these membranes is
the navel-string itself, after the manner of a sheath. And as the
embryo grows, the veins themselves tend more and more to
dwindle in size. And also as the embryo matures it comes down
into the hollow of the womb and is observed to move here, and
sometimes rolls over in the vicinity of the groin.
9
When women are in labour, their pains determine towards
many divers parts of the body, and in most cases to one or other
of the thighs. Those are the quickest to be delivered who
experience severe pains in the region of the belly; and
parturition is difficult in those who begin by suffering pain in
the loins, and speedy when the pain is abdominal. If the child
about to be born be a male, the preliminary flood is watery and
pale in colour, but if a girl it is tinged with blood, though still
watery. In some cases of labour these latter phenomena do not
occur, either one way or the other.
In other animals parturition is unaccompanied by pain, and the
dam is plainly seen to suffer but moderate inconvenience. In
women, however, the pains are more severe, and this is
especially the case in persons of sedentary habits, and in those
who are weak-chested and short of breath. Labour is apt to be
especially difficult if during the process the woman while
exerting force with her breath fails to hold it in.
First of all, when the embryo starts to move and the membranes
burst, there issues forth the watery flood; then afterwards
1667
comes the embryo, while the womb everts and the afterbirth
comes out from within.
10
The cutting of the navel-string, which is the nurses duty, is a
matter calling for no little care and skill. For not only in cases of
difficult labour must she be able to render assistance with
skilful hand, but she must also have her wits about her in all
contingencies, and especially in the operation of tying the cord.
For if the afterbirth have come away, the navel is ligatured off
from the afterbirth with a woollen thread and is then cut above
the ligature; and at the place where it has been tied it heals up,
and the remaining portion drops off. (If the ligature come loose
the child dies from loss of blood.) But if the afterbirth has not
yet come away, but remains after the child itself is extruded, it
is cut away within after the ligaturing of the cord.
It often happens that the child appears to have been born dead
when it is merely weak, and when before the umbilical cord has
been ligatured, the blood has run out into the cord and its
surroundings. But experienced midwives have been known to
squeeze back the blood into the childs body from the cord, and
immediately the child that a moment before was bloodless
came back to life again.
It is the natural rule, as we have mentioned above, for all
animals to come into the world head foremost, and children,
moreover, have their hands stretched out by their sides. And the
child gives a cry and puts its hands up to its mouth as soon as it
issues forth.
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1669
11
After parturition and the cleasing flood the milk comes in
plenty, and in some women it flows not only from the nipples
but at divers parts of the breasts, and in some cases even from
the armpits. And for some time afterwards there continue to be
certain indurated parts of the breast called strangalides, or
knots, which occur when it so happens that the moisture is
not concocted, or when it finds no outlet but accumulates
within. For the whole breast is so spongy that if a woman in
drinking happen to swallow a hair, she gets a pain in her breast,
which ailment is called trichia; and the pain lasts till the hair
either find its own way out or be sucked out with the milk.
Women continue to have milk until their next conception; and
then the milk stops coming and goes dry, alike in the human
species and in the quadrupedal vivipara. So long as there is a
flow of milk the menstrual purgations do not take place, at least
as a general rule, though the discharge has been known to occur
during the period of suckling. For, speaking generally, a
determination of moisture does not take place at one and the
same time in several directions; as for instance the menstrual
purgations tend to be scanty in persons suffering from
haemorrhoids. And in some women the like happens owing to
their suffering from varices, when the fluids issue from the
pelvic region before entering into the womb. And patients who
during suppression of the menses happen to vomit blood are no
whit the worse.
1670
12
Children are very commonly subject to convulsions, more
especially such of them as are more than ordinarily wellnourished on rich or unusually plentiful milk from a stout
nurse. Wine is bad for infants, in that it tends to excite this
malady, and red wine is worse than white, especially when
taken undiluted; and most things that tend to induce flatulency
are also bad, and constipation too is prejudicial. The majority of
deaths in infancy occur before the child is a week old, hence it
is customary to name the child at that age, from a belief that it
has now a better chance of survival. This malady is worst at the
full of the moon; and by the way, it is a dangerous symptom
when the spasms begin in the childs back.
Book VIII
1
We have now discussed the physical characteristics of animals
and their methods of generation. Their habits and their modes
of living vary according to their character and their food.
In the great majority of animals there are traces of psychical
qualities or attitudes, which qualities are more markedly
differentiated in the case of human beings. For just as we
pointed out resemblances in the physical organs, so in a
number of animals we observe gentleness or fierceness,
1671
1673
2
Animals are also differentiated locally: that is to say, some live
upon dry land, while others live in the water. And this
differentiation may be interpreted in two different ways. Thus,
some animals are termed terrestrial as inhaling air, and others
aquatic as taking in water; and there are others which do not
actually take in these elements, but nevertheless are
constitutionally adapted to the cooling influence, so far as is
needful to them, of one element or the other, and hence are
called terrestrial or aquatic though they neither breathe air nor
take in water. Again, other animals are so called from their
finding their food and fixing their habitat on land or in water:
for many animals, although they inhale air and breed on land,
yet derive their food from the water, and live in water for the
greater part of their lives; and these are the only animals to
which as living in and on two elements the term amphibious is
applicable. There is no animal taking in water that is terrestrial
or aerial or that derives its food from the land, whereas of the
great number of land animals inhaling air many get their food
from the water; moreover some are so peculiarly organized that
if they be shut off altogether from the water they cannot
possibly live, as for instance, the so-called sea-turtle, the
crocodile, the hippopotamus, the seal, and some of the smaller
creatures, such as the fresh-water tortoise and the frog: now all
these animals choke or drown if they do not from time to time
breathe atmospheric air: they breed and rear their young on dry
land, or near the land, but they pass their lives in water.
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1680
3
Of birds, such as have crooked talons are carnivorous without
exception, and cannot swallow corn or bread-food even if it be
put into their bills in tit-bits; as for instance, the eagle of every
variety, the kite, the two species of hawks, to wit, the dove-hawk
and the sparrow-hawk and, by the way, these two hawks differ
greatly in size from one another and the buzzard. The buzzard
is of the same size as the kite, and is visible at all seasons of the
year. There is also the phene (or lammergeier) and the vulture.
The phene is larger than the common eagle and is ashen in
colour. Of the vulture there are two varieties: one small and
whitish, the other comparatively large and rather more ashencoloured than white. Further, of birds that fly by night, some
have crooked talons, such as the night-raven, the owl, and the
eagle-owl. The eagle-owl resembles the common owl in shape,
but it is quite as large as the eagle. Again, there is the eleus, the
Aegolian owl, and the little horned owl. Of these birds, the eleus
is somewhat larger than the barn-door cock, and the Aegolian
owl is of about the same size as the eleus, and both these birds
hunt the jay; the little horned owl is smaller than the common
owl. All these three birds are alike in appearance, and all three
are carnivorous.
Again, of birds that have not crooked talons some are
carnivorous, such as the swallow. Others feed on grubs, such as
the chaffinch, the sparrow, the batis, the green linnet, and the
titmouse. Of the titmouse there are three varieties. The largest
1682
1683
1684
bird is omnivorous. There are also the white gull, the cepphus,
the aethyia, and the charadrius.
Of web-footed birds, the larger species live on the banks of
rivers and lakes; as the swan, the duck, the coot, the grebe, and
the teal a bird resembling the duck but less in size and the
water-raven or cormorant. This bird is the size of a stork, only
that its legs are shorter; it is web-footed and is a good swimmer;
its plumage is black. It roosts on trees, and is the only one of all
such birds as these that is found to build its nest in a tree.
Further there is the large goose, the little gregarious goose, the
vulpanser, the horned grebe, and the penelops. The sea-eagle
lives in the neighbourhood of the sea and seeks its quarry in
lagoons.
A great number of birds are omnivorous. Birds of prey feed on
any animal or bird, other than a bird of prey, that they may
catch. These birds never touch one of their own genus, whereas
fishes often devour members actually of their own species.
Birds, as a rule, are very spare drinkers. In fact birds of prey
never drink at all, excepting a very few, and these drink very
rarely; and this last observation is peculiarly applicable to the
kestrel. The kite has been seen to drink, but he certainly drinks
very seldom.
4
Animals that are coated with tessellates such as the lizard and
the other quadrupeds, and the serpents are omnivorous: at all
events they are carnivorous and graminivorous; and serpents,
by the way, are of all animals the greatest gluttons.
1685
5
Of viviparous quadrupeds such as are fierce and jag-toothed are
without exception carnivorous; though, by the way, it is stated
of the wolf, but of no other animal, that in extremity of hunger
it will eat a certain kind of earth. These carnivorous animals
never eat grass except when they are sick, just as dogs bring on
a vomit by eating grass and thereby purge themselves.
1686
The solitary wolf is more apt to attack man than the wolf that
goes with a pack.
The animal called glanus by some and hyaena by others is as
large as a wolf, with a mane like a horse, only that the hair is
stiffer and longer and extends over the entire length of the
chine. It will lie in wait for a man and chase him, and will
inveigle a dog within its reach by making a noise that resembles
the retching noise of a man vomiting. It is exceedingly fond of
putrefied flesh, and will burrow in a graveyard to gratify this
propensity.
The bear is omnivorous. It eats fruit, and is enabled by the
suppleness of its body to climb a tree; it also eats vegetables,
and it will break up a hive to get at the honey; it eats crabs and
ants also, and is in a general way carnivorous. It is so powerful
that it will attack not only the deer but the wild boar, if it can
take it unawares, and also the bull. After coming to close
quarters with the bull it falls on its back in front of the animal,
and, when the bull proceeds to butt, the bear seizes hold of the
bulls horns with its front paws, fastens its teeth into his
shoulder, and drags him down to the ground. For a short time
together it can walk erect on its hind legs. All the flesh it eats it
first allows to become carrion.
The lion, like all other savage and jag-toothed animals, is
carnivorous. It devours its food greedily and fiercely, and often
swallows its prey entire without rending it at all; it will then go
fasting for two or three days together, being rendered capable of
this abstinence by its previous surfeit. It is a spare drinker. It
discharges the solid residuum in small quantities, about every
other day or at irregular intervals, and the substance of it is
hard and dry like the excrement of a dog. The wind discharged
from off its stomach is pungent, and its urine emits a strong
odour, a phenomenon which, in the case of dogs, accounts for
1687
their habit of sniffing at trees; for, by the way, the lion, like the
dog, lifts its leg to void its urine. It infects the food it eats with a
strong smell by breathing on it, and when the animal is cut
open an overpowering vapour exhales from its inside.
Some wild quadrupeds feed in lakes and rivers; the seal is the
only one that gets its living on the sea. To the former class of
animals belong the so-called castor, the satyrium, the otter, and
the so-called latax, or beaver. The beaver is flatter than the otter
and has strong teeth; it often at night-time emerges from the
water and goes nibbling at the bark of the aspens that fringe the
riversides. The otter will bite a man, and it is said that whenever
it bites it will never let go until it hears a bone crack. The hair of
the beaver is rough, intermediate in appearance between the
hair of the seal and the hair of the deer.
6
Jag-toothed animals drink by lapping, as do also some animals
with teeth differently formed, as the mouse. Animals whose
upper and lower teeth meet evenly drink by suction, as the
horse and the ox; the bear neither laps nor sucks, but gulps
down his drink. Birds, a rule, drink by suction, but the long
necked birds stop and elevate their heads at intervals; the
purple coot is the only one (of the long-necked birds) that
swallows water by gulps.
Horned animals, domesticated or wild, and all such as are not
jag-toothed, are all frugivorous and graminivorous, save under
great stress of hunger. The pig is an exception, it cares little for
grass or fruit, but of all animals it is the fondest of roots, owing
to the fact that its snout is peculiarly adapted for digging them
out of the ground; it is also of all animals the most easily
1688
7
Cattle feed on corn and grass, and fatten on vegetables that
tend to cause flatulency, such as bitter vetch or bruised beans or
bean-stalks. The older ones also will fatten if they be fed up
after an incision has been made into their hide, and air blown
thereinto. Cattle will fatten also on barley in its natural state or
on barley finely winnowed, or on sweet food, such as figs, or
pulp from the wine-press, or on elm-leaves. But nothing is so
1689
8
Horses, mules, and asses feed on corn and grass, but are
fattened chiefly by drink. Just in proportion as beasts of burden
drink water, so will they more or less enjoy their food, and a
place will give good or bad feeding according as the water is
good or bad. Green corn, while ripening, will give a smooth coat;
but such corn is injurious if the spikes are too stiff and sharp.
The first crop of clover is unwholesome, and so is clover over
which ill-scented water runs; for the clover is sure to get the
taint of the water. Cattle like clear water for drinking; but the
horse in this respect resembles the camel, for the camel likes
turbid and thick water, and will never drink from a stream until
he has trampled it into a turbid condition. And, by the way, the
1690
camel can go without water for as much as four days, but after
that when he drinks, he drinks in immense quantities.
9
The elephant at the most can eat nine Macedonian medimni of
fodder at one meal; but so large an amount is unwholesome. As
a general rule it can take six or seven medimni of fodder, five
medimni of wheat, and five mareis of wine six cotylae going to
the maris. An elephant has been known to drink right off
fourteen Macedonian metretae of water, and another metretae
later in the day.
Camels live for about thirty years; in some exceptional cases
they live much longer, and instances have been known of their
living to the age of a hundred. The elephant is said by some to
live for about two hundred years; by others, for three hundred.
10
Sheep and goats are graminivorous, but sheep browse
assiduously and steadily, whereas goats shift their ground
rapidly, and browse only on the tips of the herbage. Sheep are
much improved in condition by drinking, and accordingly they
give the flocks salt every five days in summer, to the extent of
one medimnus to the hundred sheep, and this is found to
render a flock healthier and fatter. In fact they mix salt with the
greater part of their food; a large amount of salt is mixed into
their bran (for the reason that they drink more when thirsty),
and in autumn they get cucumbers with a sprinkling of salt on
1691
1692
11
Of insects, such as have teeth are omnivorous; such as have a
tongue feed on liquids only, extracting with that organ juices
from all quarters. And of these latter some may be called
omnivorous, inasmuch as they feed on every kind of juice, as for
instance, the common fly; others are blood-suckers, such as the
gadfly and the horse-fly, others again live on the juices of fruits
and plants. The bee is the only insect that invariably eschews
whatever is rotten; it will touch no article of food unless it have
a sweet-tasting juice, and it is particularly fond of drinking
water if it be found bubbling up clear from a spring
underground.
So much for the food of animals of the leading genera.
12
The habits of animals are all connected with either breeding
and the rearing of young, or with the procuring a due supply of
food; and these habits are modified so as to suit cold and heat
and the variations of the seasons. For all animals have an
instinctive perception of the changes of temperature, and, just
as men seek shelter in houses in winter, or as men of great
possessions spend their summer in cool places and their winter
in sunny ones, so also all animals that can do so shift their
habitat at various seasons.
Some creatures can make provision against change without
stirring from their ordinary haunts; others migrate, quitting
Pontus and the cold countries after the autumnal equinox to
avoid the approaching winter, and after the spring equinox
migrating from warm lands to cool lands to avoid the coming
1693
1694
Of birds, the crane, as has been said, migrates from one end of
the world to the other; they fly against the wind. The story told
about the stone is untrue: to wit, that the bird, so the story goes,
carries in its inside a stone by way of ballast, and that the stone
when vomited up is a touchstone for gold.
The cushat and the rock-dove migrate, and never winter in our
country, as is the case also with the turtle-dove; the common
pigeon, however, stays behind. The quail also migrates; only, by
the way, a few quails and turtle-doves may stay behind here and
there in sunny districts. Cushats and turtle-doves flock together,
both when they arrive and when the season for migration
comes round again. When quails come to land, if it be fair
weather or if a north wind is blowing, they will pair off and
manage pretty comfortably; but if a southerly wind prevail they
are greatly distressed owing to the difficulties in the way of
flight, for a southerly wind is wet and violent. For this reason
bird-catchers are never on the alert for these birds during fine
weather, but only during the prevalence of southerly winds,
when the bird from the violence of the wind is unable to fly.
And, by the way, it is owing to the distress occasioned by the
bulkiness of its body that the bird always screams while flying:
for the labour is severe. When the quails come from abroad they
have no leaders, but when they migrate hence, the glottis flits
along with them, as does also the landrail, and the eared owl,
and the corncrake. The corncrake calls them in the night, and
when the birdcatchers hear the croak of the bird in the
nighttime they know that the quails are on the move. The
landrail is like a marsh bird, and the glottis has a tongue that
can project far out of its beak. The eared owl is like an ordinary
owl, only that it has feathers about its ears; by some it is called
the night-raven. It is a great rogue of a bird, and is a capital
mimic; a bird-catcher will dance before it and, while the bird is
mimicking his gestures, the accomplice comes behind and
catches it. The common owl is caught by a similar trick.
1695
13
Of fishes, some, as has been observed, migrate from the outer
seas in towards shore, and from the shore towards the outer
seas, to avoid the extremes of cold and heat.
Fish living near to the shore are better eating than deep-sea
fish. The fact is they have more abundant and better feeding, for
wherever the suns heat can reach vegetation is more abundant,
better in quality, and more delicate, as is seen in any ordinary
garden. Further, the black shore-weed grows near to shore; the
other shore-weed is like wild weed. Besides, the parts of the sea
near to shore are subjected to a more equable temperature; and
consequently the flesh of shallow-water fishes is firm and
consistent, whereas the flesh of deep-water fishes is flaccid and
watery.
The following fishes are found near into the shore the
synodon, the black bream, the merou, the gilthead, the mullet,
the red mullet, the wrasse, the weaver, the callionymus, the
goby, and rock-fishes of all kinds. The following are deep-sea
fishes the trygon, the cartilaginous fishes, the white conger,
the serranus, the erythrinus, and the glaucus. The braize, the
sea-scorpion, the black conger, the muraena, and the piper or
1696
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1699
14
Insects almost all go into hiding, with the exception of such of
them as live in human habitations or perish before the
completion of the year. They hide in the winter; some of them
for several days, others for only the coldest days, as the bee. For
the bee also goes into hiding: and the proof that it does so is
that during a certain period bees never touch the food set before
them, and if a bee creeps out of the hive, it is quite transparent,
with nothing whatsoever in its stomach; and the period of its
rest and hiding lasts from the setting of the Pleiads until
springtime.
Animals take their winter-sleep or summer-sleep by concealing
themselves in warm places, or in places where they have been
used to lie concealed.
15
Several blooded animals take this sleep, such as the pholidotes
or tessellates, namely, the serpent, the lizard, the gecko, and the
river. crocodile, all of which go into hiding for four months in
the depth of winter, and during that time eat nothing. Serpents
in general burrow under ground for this purpose; the viper
conceals itself under a stone.
A great number of fishes also take this sleep, and notably, the
hippurus and coracinus in winter time; for, whereas fish in
general may be caught at all periods of the year more or less,
there is this singularity observed in these fishes, that they are
caught within a certain fixed period of the year, and never by
any chance out of it. The muraena also hides, and the orphus or
sea-perch, and the conger. Rock-fish pair off, male and female,
1700
1701
16
A great number of birds also go into hiding; they do not all
migrate, as is generally supposed, to warmer countries. Thus,
certain birds (as the kite and the swallow) when they are not far
off from places of this kind, in which they have their permanent
abode, betake themselves thither; others, that are at a distance
from such places, decline the trouble of migration and simply
hide themselves where they are. Swallows, for instance, have
been often found in holes, quite denuded of their feathers, and
the kite on its first emergence from torpidity has been seen to
fly from out some such hiding-place. And with regard to this
phenomenon of periodic torpor there is no distinction observed,
whether the talons of a bird be crooked or straight; for instance,
the stork, the owzel, the turtle-dove, and the lark, all go into
1702
17
Of viviparous quadrupeds the porcupine and the bear retire into
concealment. The fact that the bear hides is well established,
but there are doubts as to its motive for so doing, whether it be
by reason of the cold or from some other cause. About this
period the male and the female become so fat as to be hardly
capable of motion. The female brings forth her young at this
time, and remains in concealment until it is time to bring the
cubs out; and she brings them out in spring, about three
months after the winter solstice. The bear hides for at least
forty days; during fourteen of these days it is said not to move
at all, but during most of the subsequent days it moves, and
from time to time wakes up. A she-bear in pregnancy has either
never been caught at all or has been caught very seldom. There
can be no doubt but that during this period they eat nothing; for
in the first place they never emerge from their hiding-place, and
further, when they are caught, their belly and intestines are
found to be quite empty. It is also said that from no food being
taken the gut almost closes up, and that in consequence the
animal on first emerging takes to eating arum with the view of
opening up and distending the gut.
1703
The dormouse actually hides in a tree, and gets very fat at that
period; as does also the white mouse of Pontus.
(Of animals that hide or go torpid some slough off what is called
their old-age. This name is applied to the outermost skin, and
to the casing that envelops the developing organism.)
In discussing the case of terrestrial vivipara we stated that the
reason for the bears seeking concealment is an open question.
We now proceed to treat of the tessellates. The tessellates for
the most part go into hiding, and if their skin is soft they slough
off their old-age, but not if the skin is shell-like, as is the shell
of the tortoise for, by the way, the tortoise and the fresh water
tortoise belong to the tessellates. Thus, the old-age is sloughed
off by the gecko, the lizard, and above all, by serpents; and they
slough off the skin in springtime when emerging from their
torpor, and again in the autumn. Vipers also slough off their
skin both in spring and in autumn, and it is not the case, as
some aver, that this species of the serpent family is exceptional
in not sloughing. When the serpent begins to slough, the skin
peels off at first from the eyes, so that any one ignorant of the
phenomenon would suppose the animal were going blind; after
that it peels off the head, and so on, until the creature presents
to view only a white surface all over. The sloughing goes on for a
day and a night, beginning with the head and ending with the
tail. During the sloughing of the skin an inner layer comes to
the surface, for the creature emerges just as the embryo from its
afterbirth.
All insects that slough at all slough in the same way; as the
silphe, and the empis or midge, and all the coleoptera, as for
instance the cantharus-beetle. They all slough after the period
of development; for just as the afterbirth breaks from off the
young of the vivipara so the outer husk breaks off from around
the young of the vermipara, in the same way both with the bee
1704
and the grasshopper. The cicada the moment after issuing from
the husk goes and sits upon an olive tree or a reed; after the
breaking up of the husk the creature issues out, leaving a little
moisture behind, and after a short interval flies up into the air
and sets a. chirping.
Of marine animals the crawfish and the lobster slough
sometimes in the spring, and sometimes in autumn after
parturition. Lobsters have been caught occasionally with the
parts about the thorax soft, from the shell having there peeled
off, and the lower parts hard, from the shell having not yet
peeled off there; for, by the way, they do not slough in the same
manner as the serpent. The crawfish hides for about five
months. Crabs also slough off their old-age; this is generally
allowed with regard to the soft-shelled crabs, and it is said to be
the case with the testaceous kind, as for instance with the large
granny crab. When these animals slough their shell becomes
soft all over, and as for the crab, it can scarcely crawl. These
animals also do not cast their skins once and for all, but over
and over again.
So much for the animals that go into hiding or torpidity, for the
times at which, and the ways in which, they go; and so much
also for the animals that slough off their old-age, and for the
times at which they undergo the process.
18
Animals do not all thrive at the same seasons, nor do they
thrive alike during all extremes of weather. Further animals of
diverse species are in a diverse way healthy or sickly at certain
seasons; and, in point of fact, some animals have ailments that
are unknown to others. Birds thrive in times of drought, both in
1705
19
The majority of fishes, as has been stated, thrive best in rainy
seasons. Not only have they food in greater abundance at this
time, but in a general way rain is wholesome for them just as it
is for vegetation for, by the way, kitchen vegetables, though
artificially watered, derive benefit from rain; and the same
remark applies even to reeds that grow in marshes, as they
hardly grow at all without a rainfall. That rain is good for fishes
may be inferred from the fact that most fishes migrate to the
Euxine for the summer; for owing to the number of the rivers
that discharge into this sea its water is exceptionally fresh, and
the rivers bring down a large supply of food. Besides, a great
number of fishes, such as the bonito and the mullet, swim up
the rivers and thrive in the rivers and marshes. The seagudgeon also fattens in the rivers, and, as a rule, countries
abounding in lagoons furnish unusually excellent fish. While
most fishes, then, are benefited by rain, they are chiefly
1706
1707
1708
20
River-fish and lake-fish also are exempt from diseases of a
pestilential character, but certain species are subject to special
and peculiar maladies. For instance, the sheat-fish just before
the rising of the Dog-star, owing to its swimming near the
surface of the water, is liable to sunstroke, and is paralysed by a
loud peal of thunder. The carp is subject to the same
eventualities but in a lesser degree. The sheatfish is destroyed in
great quantities in shallow waters by the serpent called the
dragon. In the balerus and tilon a worm is engendered about the
rising of the Dog-star, that sickens these fish and causes them
to rise towards the surface, where they are killed by the
excessive heat. The chalcis is subject to a very violent malady;
lice are engendered underneath their gills in great numbers,
and cause destruction among them; but no other species of fish
is subject to any such malady.
If mullein be introduced into water it will kill fish in its vicinity.
It is used extensively for catching fish in rivers and ponds; by
the Phoenicians it is made use of also in the sea.
There are two other methods employed for catch-fish. It is a
known fact that in winter fishes emerge from the deep parts of
rivers and, by the way, at all seasons fresh water is tolerably
cold. A trench accordingly is dug leading into a river, and
1709
1710
21
To turn to quadrupeds, the pig suffers from three diseases, one
of which is called branchos, a disease attended with swellings
about the windpipe and the jaws. It may break out in any part of
the body; very often it attacks the foot, and occasionally the ear;
the neighbouring parts also soon rot, and the decay goes on
until it reaches the lungs, when the animal succumbs. The
disease develops with great rapidity, and the moment it sets in
the animal gives up eating. The swineherds know but one way
to cure it, namely, by complete excision, when they detect the
first signs of the disease. There are two other diseases, which
are both alike termed craurus. The one is attended with pain
and heaviness in the head, and this is the commoner of the two,
the other with diarrhoea. The latter is incurable, the former is
treated by applying wine fomentations to the snout and rinsing
the nostrils with wine. Even this disease is very hard to cure; it
has been known to kill within three or four days. The animal is
chiefly subject to branchos when it gets extremely fat, and
when the heat has brought a good supply of figs. The treatment
is to feed on mashed mulberries, to give repeated warm baths,
and to lance the under part of the tongue.
Pigs with flabby flesh are subject to measles about the legs,
neck, and shoulders, for the pimples develop chiefly in these
parts. If the pimples are few in number the flesh is
comparatively sweet, but if they be numerous it gets watery and
flaccid. The symptoms of measles are obvious, for the pimples
show chiefly on the under side of the tongue, and if you pluck
the bristles off the chine the skin will appear suffused with
blood, and further the animal will be unable to keep its hindfeet at rest. Pigs never take this disease while they are mere
sucklings. The pimples may be got rid of by feeding on this kind
of spelt called tiphe; and this spelt, by the way, is very good for
ordinary food. The best food for rearing and fattening pigs is
1711
chickpeas and figs, but the one thing essential is to vary the
food as much as possible, for this animal, like animals in
general lights in a change of diet; and it is said that one kind of
food blows the animal out, that another superinduces flesh, and
that another puts on fat, and that acorns, though liked by the
animal, render the flesh flaccid. Besides, if a sow eats acorns in
great quantities, it will miscarry, as is also the case with the
ewe; and, indeed, the miscarriage is more certain in the case of
the ewe than in the case of the sow. The pig is the only animal
known to be subject to measles.
22
Dogs suffer from three diseases; rabies, quinsy, and sore feet.
Rabies drives the animal mad, and ary animal whatever,
excepting man, will take the disease if bitten by a dog so
afflicted; the disease is fatal to the dog itself, and to any animal
it may bite, man excepted. Quinsy also is fatal to dogs; and only
a few recover from disease of the feet. The camel, like the dog, is
subject to rabies. The elephant, which is reputed to enjoy
immunity from all other illnesses, is occasionally subject to
flatulency.
23
Cattle in herds are liable to two diseases, foot, sickness and
craurus. In the former their feet suffer from eruptions, but the
animal recovers from the disease without even the loss of the
hoof. It is found of service to smear the horny parts with warm
1712
24
Horses out at pasture are free from all diseases excepting
disease of the feet. From this disease they sometimes lose their
hooves: but after losing them they grow them soon again, for as
one hoof is decaying it is being replaced by another. Symptoms
of the malady are a sinking in and wrinkling of the lip in the
middle under the nostrils, and in the case of the male, a
twitching of the right testicle.
Stall-reared horses are subject to very numerous forms of
disease. They are liable to disease called eileus. Under this
disease the animal trails its hind-legs under its belly so far
forward as almost to fall back on its haunches; if it goes without
food for several days and turns rabid, it may be of service to
draw blood, or to castrate the male. The animal is subject also to
tetanus: the veins get rigid, as also the head and neck, and the
animal walks with its legs stretched out straight. The horse
suffers also from abscesses. Another painful illness afflicts
them called the barley-surfeit. The are a softening of the palate
and heat of the breath; the animal may recover through the
strength of its own constitution, but no formal remedies are of
any avail.
There is also a disease called nymphia, in which the animal is
said to stand still and droop its head on hearing flute-music; if
during this ailment the horse be mounted, it will run off at a
1713
1714
25
The ass suffers chiefly from one particular disease which they
call melis. It arises first in the head, and a clammy humour
runs down the nostrils, thick and red; if it stays in the head the
animal may recover, but if it descends into the lungs the animal
will die. Of all animals on its of its kind it is the least capable of
enduring extreme cold, which circumstance will account for the
fact that the animal is not found on the shores of the Euxine,
nor in Scythia.
26
Elephants suffer from flatulence, and when thus afflicted can
void neither solid nor liquid residuum. If the elephant swallow
earth-mould it suffers from relaxation; but if it go on taking it
steadily, it will experience no harm. From time to time it takes
1715
27
Insects, as a general rule, thrive best in the time of year in
which they come into being, especially if the season be moist
and warm, as in spring.
In bee-hives are found creatures that do great damage to the
combs; for instance, the grub that spins a web and ruins the
honeycomb: it is called the cleros. It engenders an insect like
itself, of a spider-shape, and brings disease into the swarm.
There is another insect resembling the moth, called by some the
pyraustes, that flies about a lighted candle: this creature
engenders a brood full of a fine down. It is never stung by a bee,
and can only be got out of a hive by fumigation. A caterpillar
also is engendered in hives, of a species nicknamed the teredo,
or borer, with which creature the bee never interferes. Bees
suffer most when flowers are covered with mildew, or in
seasons of drought.
1716
28
Variety in animal life may be produced by variety of locality:
thus in one place an animal will not be found at all, in another
it will be small, or short-lived, or will not thrive. Sometimes this
sort of difference is observed in closely adjacent districts. Thus,
in the territory of Miletus, in one district cicadas are found
while there are none in the district close adjoining; and in
Cephalenia there is a river on one side of which the cicada is
found and not on the other. In Pordoselene there is a public road
one side of which the weasel is found but not on the other. In
Boeotia the mole is found in great abundance in the
neighbourhood of Orchomenus, but there are none in Lebadia
though it is in the immediate vicinity, and if a mole be
transported from the one district to the other it will refuse to
burrow in the soil. The hare cannot live in Ithaca if introduced
there; in fact it will be found dead, turned towards the point of
the beach where it was landed. The horseman-ant is not found
in Sicily; the croaking frog has only recently appeared in the
neighbourhood of Cyrene. In the whole of Libya there is neither
wild boar, nor stag, nor wild goat; and in India, according to
Ctesias no very good authority, by the way there are no
swine, wild or tame, but animals that are devoid of blood and
such as go into hiding or go torpid are all of immense size there.
In the Euxine there are no small molluscs nor testaceans,
except a few here and there; but in the Red Sea all the
testaceans are exceedingly large. In Syria the sheep have tails a
cubit in breadth; the goats have ears a span and a palm long,
1717
and some have ears that flap down to the ground; and the cattle
have humps on their shoulders, like the camel. In Lycia goats
are shorn for their fleece, just as sheep are in all other
countries. In Libya the long-horned ram is born with horns, and
not the ram only, as Homer words it, but the ewe as well; in
Pontus, on the confines of Scythia, the ram is without horns.
In Egypt animals, as a rule, are larger than their congeners in
Greece, as the cow and the sheep; but some are less, as the dog,
the wolf, the hare, the fox, the raven, and the hawk; others are
of pretty much the same size, as the crow and the goat. The
difference, where it exists, is attributed to the food, as being
abundant in one case and insufficient in another, for instance
for the wolf and the hawk; for provision is scanty for the
carnivorous animals, small birds being scarce; food is scanty
also for the hare and for all frugivorous animals, because
neither the nuts nor the fruit last long.
In many places the climate will account for peculiarities; thus in
Illyria, Thrace, and Epirus the ass is small, and in Gaul and in
Scythia the ass is not found at all owing to the coldness of the
climate of these countries. In Arabia the lizard is more than a
cubit in length, and the mouse is much larger than our fieldmouse, with its hind-legs a span long and its front legs the
length of the first finger-joint. In Libya, according to all
accounts, the length of the serpents is something appalling;
sailors spin a yarn to the effect that some crews once put
ashore and saw the bones of a number of oxen, and that they
were sure that the oxen had been devoured by serpents, for, just
as they were putting out to sea, serpents came chasing their
galleys at full speed and overturned one galley and set upon the
crew. Again, lions are more numerous in Libya, and in that
district of Europe that lies between the Achelous and the
Nessus; the leopard is more abundant in Asia Minor, and is not
found in Europe at all. As a general rule, wild animals are at
1718
29
Locality will differentiate habits also: for instance, rugged
highlands will not produce the same results as the soft
lowlands. The animals of the highlands look fiercer and bolder,
as is seen in the swine of Mount Athos; for a lowland boar is no
match even for a mountain sow.
1719
30
Animals also vary as to their condition of health in connexion
with their pregnancy.
1720
1721
Book IX
1
Of the animals that are comparatively obscure and short-lived
the characters or dispositions are not so obvious to recognition
as are those of animals that are longer-lived. These latter
animals appear to have a natural capacity corresponding to
each of the passions: to cunning or simplicity, courage or
timidity, to good temper or to bad, and to other similar
dispositions of mind.
Some also are capable of giving or receiving instruction of
receiving it from one another or from man: those that have the
faculty of hearing, for instance; and, not to limit the matter to
1722
1723
1724
1725
between the turtle-dove and the chloreus; the chloreus kills the
dove, and the crow kills the so-called drummer-bird.
The aegolius, and birds of prey in general, prey upon the calaris,
and consequently there is war between it and them; and so is
there war between the gecko-lizard and the spider, for the
former preys upon the latter; and so between the woodpecker
and the heron, for the former preys upon the eggs and brood of
the latter. And so between the aegithus and the ass, owing to
the fact that the ass, in passing a furze-bush, rubs its sore and
itching parts against the prickles; by so doing, and all the more
if it brays, it topples the eggs and the brood out of the nest, the
young ones tumble out in fright, and the mother-bird, to avenge
this wrong, flies at the beast and pecks at his sore places.
The wolf is at war with the ass, the bull, and the fox, for as
being a carnivore, he attacks these other animals; and so for the
same reason with the fox and the circus, for the circus, being
carnivorous and furnished with crooked talons, attacks and
maims the animal. And so the raven is at war with the bull and
the ass, for it flies at them, and strikes them, and pecks at their
eyes; and so with the eagle and the heron, for the former,
having crooked talons, attacks the latter, and the latter usually
succumbs to the attack; and so the merlin with the vulture; and
the crex with the eleus-owl, the blackbird, and the oriole (of this
latter bird, by the way, the story goes that he was originally born
out of a funeral pyre): the cause of warfare is that the crex
injures both them and their young. The nuthatch and the wren
are at war with the eagle; the nuthatch breaks the eagles eggs,
so the eagle is at war with it on special grounds, though, as a
bird of prey, it carries on a general war all round. The horse and
the anthus are enemies, and the horse will drive the bird out of
the field where he is grazing: the bird feeds on grass, and sees
too dimly to foresee an attack; it mimics the whinnying of the
horse, flies at him, and tries to frighten him away; but the horse
1726
drives the bird away, and whenever he catches it he kills it: this
bird lives beside rivers or on marsh ground; it has pretty
plumage, and finds its without trouble. The ass is at enmity
with the lizard, for the lizard sleeps in his manger, gets into his
nostril, and prevents his eating.
Of herons there are three kinds: the ash coloured, the white,
and the starry heron (or bittern). Of these the first mentioned
submits with reluctance to the duties of incubation, or to union
of the sexes; in fact, it screams during the union, and it is said
drips blood from its eyes; it lays its eggs also in an awkward
manner, not unattended with pain. It is at war with certain
creatures that do it injury: with the eagle for robbing it, with the
fox for worrying it at night, and with the lark for stealing its
eggs.
The snake is at war with the weasel and the pig; with the
weasel when they are both at home, for they live on the same
food; with the pig for preying on her kind. The merlin is at war
with the fox; it strikes and claws it, and, as it has crooked
talons, it kills the animals young. The raven and the fox are
good friends, for the raven is at enmity with the merlin; and so
when the merlin assails the fox the raven comes and helps the
animal. The vulture and the merlin are mutual enemies, as
being both furnished with crooked talons. The vulture fights
with the eagle, and so, by the way, does does swan; and the
swan is often victorious: moreover, of all birds swans are most
prone to the killing of one another.
In regard to wild creatures, some sets are at enmity with other
sets at all times and under all circumstances; others, as in the
case of man and man, at special times and under incidental
circumstances. The ass and the acanthis are enemies; for the
bird lives on thistles, and the ass browses on thistles when they
are young and tender. The anthus, the acanthis, and the
1727
1728
2
Of fishes, such as swim in shoals together are friendly to one
another; such as do not so swim are enemies. Some fishes
swarm during the spawning season; others after they have
spawned. To state the matter comprehensively, we may say that
the following are shoaling fish: the tunny, the maenis, the seagudgeon, the bogue, the horse-mackerel, the coracine, the
synodon or dentex, the red mullet, the sphyraena, the anthias,
the eleginus, the atherine, the sarginus, the gar-fish, (the squid,)
the rainbow-wrasse, the pelamyd, the mackerel, the colymackerel. Of these some not only swim in shoals, but go in pairs
inside the shoal; the rest without exception swim in pairs, and
only swim in shoals at certain periods: that is, as has been said,
when they are heavy with spawn or after they have spawned.
The basse and the grey mullet are bitter enemies, but they
swarm together at certain times; for at times not only do fishes
of the same species swarm together, but also those whose
feeding-grounds are identical or adjacent, if the food-supply be
abundant. The grey mullet is often found alive with its tail
lopped off, and the conger with all that part of its body removed
that lies to the rear of the vent; in the case of the mullet the
injury is wrought by the basse, in that of the conger-eel by the
muraena. There is war between the larger and the lesser fishes:
for the big fishes prey on the little ones. So much on the subject
of marine animals.
1729
3
The characters of animals, as has been observed, differ in
respect to timidity, to gentleness, to courage, to tameness, to
intelligence, and to stupidity.
The sheep is said to be naturally dull and stupid. Of all
quadrupeds it is the most foolish: it will saunter away to lonely
places with no object in view; oftentimes in stormy weather it
will stray from shelter; if it be overtaken by a snowstorm, it will
stand still unless the shepherd sets it in motion; it will stay
behind and perish unless the shepherd brings up the rams; it
will then follow home.
If you catch hold of a goats beard at the extremity the beard is
of a substance resembling hair all the companion goats will
stand stock still, staring at this particular goat in a kind of
dumbfounderment.
You will have a warmer bed in amongst the goats than among
the sheep, because the goats will be quieter and will creep up
towards you; for the goat is more impatient of cold than the
sheep.
Shepherds train sheep to close in together at a clap of their
hands, for if, when a thunderstorm comes on, a ewe stays
behind without closing in, the storm will kill it if it be with
young; consequently if a sudden clap or noise is made, they
close in together within the sheepfold by reason of their
training.
Even bulls, when they are roaming by themselves apart from
the herd, are killed by wild animals.
1730
Sheep and goats lie crowded together, kin by kin. When the sun
turns early towards its setting, the goats are said to lie no longer
face to face, but back to back.
4
Cattle at pasture keep together in their accustomed herds, and
if one animal strays away the rest will follow; consequently if
the herdsmen lose one particular animal, they keep close watch
on all the rest.
When mares with their colts pasture together in the same field,
if one dam dies the others will take up the rearing of the colt. In
point of fact, the mare appears to be singularly prone by nature
to maternal fondness; in proof whereof a barren mare will steal
the foal from its dam, will tend it with all the solicitude of a
mother, but, as it will be unprovided with mothers milk, its
solicitude will prove fatal to its charge.
5
Among wild quadrupeds the hind appears to be pre-eminently
intelligent; for example, in its habit of bringing forth its young
on the sides of public roads, where the fear of man forbids the
approach of wild animals. Again, after parturition, it first
swallows the afterbirth, then goes in quest of the seseli shrub,
and after eating of it returns to its young. The mother takes its
young betimes to her lair, so leading it to know its place of
refuge in time of danger; this lair is a precipitous rock, with only
one approach, and there it is said to hold its own against all
1731
6
When bears are running away from their pursuers they push
their cubs in front of them, or take them up and carry them;
when they are being overtaken they climb up a tree. When
emerging from their winter-den, they at once take to eating
cuckoo-pint, as has been said, and chew sticks of wood as
though they were cutting teeth.
Many other quadrupeds help themselves in clever ways. Wild
goats in Crete are said, when wounded by arrows, to go in
search of dittany, which is supposed to have the property of
ejecting arrows in the body. Dogs, when they are ill, eat some
1733
1734
Many have seen the locust, when fighting with the snake get a
tight hold of the snake by the neck. The weasel has a clever way
of getting the better of birds; it tears their throats open, as
wolves do with sheep. Weasels fight desperately with micecatching snakes, as they both prey on the same animal.
In regard to the instinct of hedgehogs, it has been observed in
many places that, when the wind is shifting from north to
south, and from south to north, they shift the outlook of their
earth-holes, and those that are kept in domestication shift over
from one wall to the other. The story goes that a man in
Byzantium got into high repute for foretelling a change of
weather, all owing to his having noticed this habit of the
hedgehog.
The polecat or marten is about as large as the smaller breed of
Maltese dogs. In the thickness of its fur, in its look, in the white
of its belly, and in its love of mischief, it resembles the weasel; it
is easily tamed; from its liking for honey it is a plague to beehives; it preys on birds like the cat. Its genital organ, as has been
said, consists of bone: the organ of the male is supposed to be a
cure for strangury; doctors scrape it into powder, and
administer it in that form.
7
In a general way in the lives of animals many resemblances to
human life may be observed. Pre-eminent intelligence will be
seen more in small creatures than in large ones, as is
exemplified in the case of birds by the nest building of the
swallow. In the same way as men do, the bird mixes mud and
chaff together; if it runs short of mud, it souses its body in water
and rolls about in the dry dust with wet feathers; furthermore,
1735
known where such birds were twenty-five years old, thirty years
old, and in some cases forty. As they grow old their claws
increase in size, and pigeon-fanciers cut the claws; as far as one
can see, the birds suffer no other perceptible disfigurement by
their increase in age. Turtle-doves and pigeons that are blinded
by fanciers for use as decoys, live for eight years. Partridges live
for about fifteen years. Ring-doves and turtle-doves always build
their nests in the same place year after year. The male, as a
general rule, is more long-lived than the female; but in the case
of pigeons some assert that the male dies before the female,
taking their inference from the statements of persons who keep
decoy-birds in captivity. Some declare that the male sparrow
lives only a year, pointing to the fact that early in spring the
male sparrow has no black beard, but has one later on, as
though the blackbearded birds of the last year had all died out;
they also say that the females are the longer lived, on the
grounds that they are caught in amongst the young birds and
that their age is rendered manifest by the hardness about their
beaks. Turtle-doves in summer live in cold places, (and in warm
places during the winter); chaffinches affect warm habitations
in summer and cold ones in winter.
8
Birds of a heavy build, such as quails, partridges, and the like,
build no nests; indeed, where they are incapable of flight, it
would be of no use if they could do so. After scraping a hole on a
level piece of ground and it is only in such a place that they
lay their eggs they cover it over with thorns and sticks for
security against hawks and eagles, and there lay their eggs and
hatch them; after the hatching is over, they at once lead the
young out from the nest, as they are not able to fly afield for
1737
food for them. Quails and partridges, like barn-door hens, when
they go to rest, gather their brood under their wings. Not to be
discovered, as might be the case if they stayed long in one spot,
they do not hatch the eggs where they laid them. When a man
comes by chance upon a young brood, and tries to catch them,
the hen-bird rolls in front of the hunter, pretending to be lame:
the man every moment thinks he is on the point of catching
her, and so she draws him on and on, until every one of her
brood has had time to escape; hereupon she returns to the nest
and calls the young back. The partridge lays not less than ten
eggs, and often lays as many as sixteen. As has been observed,
the bird has mischievous and deceitful habits. In the springtime, a noisy scrimmage takes place, out of which the malebirds emerge each with a hen. Owing to the lecherous nature of
the bird, and from a dislike to the hen sitting, the males, if they
find any eggs, roll them over and over until they break them in
pieces; to provide against this the female goes to a distance and
lays the eggs, and often, under the stress of parturition, lays
them in any chance spot that offers; if the male be near at hand,
then to keep the eggs intact she refrains from visiting them. If
she be seen by a man, then, just as with her fledged brood, she
entices him off by showing herself close at his feet until she has
drawn him to a distance. When the females have run away and
taken to sitting, the males in a pack take to screaming and
fighting; when thus engaged, they have the nickname of
widowers. The bird who is beaten follows his victor, and
submits to be covered by him only; and the beaten bird is
covered by a second one or by any other, only clandestinely
without the victors knowledge; this is so, not at all times, but at
a particular season of the year, and with quails as well as with
partridges. A similar proceeding takes place occasionally with
barn-door cocks: for in temples, where cocks are set apart as
dedicate without hens, they all as a matter of course tread any
new-comer. Tame partridges tread wild birds, pecket their
1738
heads, and treat them with every possible outrage. The leader of
the wild birds, with a counter-note of challenge, pushes forward
to attack the decoy-bird, and after he has been netted, another
advances with a similar note. This is what is done if the decoy
be a male; but if it be a female that is the decoy and gives the
note, and the leader of the wild birds give a counter one, the
rest of the males set upon him and chase him away from the
female for making advances to her instead of to them; in
consequence of this the male often advances without uttering
any cry, so that no other may hear him and come and give him
battle; and experienced fowlers assert that sometimes the male
bird, when he approaches the female, makes her keep silence,
to avoid having to give battle to other males who might have
heard him. The partridge has not only the note here referred to,
but also a thin shrill cry and other notes. Oftentimes the henbird rises from off her brood when she sees the male showing
attentions to the female decoy; she will give the counter note
and remain still, so as to be trodden by him and divert him from
the decoy. The quail and the partridge are so intent upon sexual
union that they often come right in the way of the decoy-birds,
and not seldom alight upon their heads. So much for the sexual
proclivities of the partridge, for the way in which it is hunted,
and the general nasty habits of the bird.
As has been said, quails and partridges build their nests upon
the ground, and so also do some of the birds that are capable of
sustained flight. Further, for instance, of such birds, the lark and
the woodcock, as well as the quail, do not perch on a branch,
but squat upon the ground.
1739
9
The woodpecker does not squat on the ground, but pecks at the
bark of trees to drive out from under it maggots and gnats;
when they emerge, it licks them up with its tongue, which is
large and flat. It can run up and down a tree in any way, even
with the head downwards, like the gecko-lizard. For secure hold
upon a tree, its claws are better adapted than those of the daw;
it makes its way by sticking these claws into the bark. One
species of woodpecker is smaller than a blackbird, and has
small reddish speckles; a second species is larger than the
blackbird, and a third is not much smaller than a barn-door hen.
It builds a nest on trees, as has been said, on olive trees
amongst others. It feeds on the maggots and ants that are under
the bark: it is so eager in the search for maggots that it is said
sometimes to hollow a tree out to its downfall. A woodpecker
once, in course of domestication, was seen to insert an almond
into a hole in a piece of timber, so that it might remain steady
under its pecking; at the third peck it split the shell of the fruit,
and then ate the kernel.
10
Many indications of high intelligence are given by cranes. They
will fly to a great distance and up in the air, to command an
extensive view; if they see clouds and signs of bad weather they
fly down again and remain still. They, furthermore, have a
leader in their flight, and patrols that scream on the confines of
the flock so as to be heard by all. When they settle down, the
main body go to sleep with their heads under their wing,
standing first on one leg and then on the other, while their
1740
leader, with his head uncovered, keeps a sharp look out, and
when he sees anything of importance signals it with a cry.
Pelicans that live beside rivers swallow the large smooth
mussel-shells: after cooking them inside the crop that precedes
the stomach, they spit them out, so that, now when their shells
are open, they may pick the flesh out and eat it.
11
Of wild birds, the nests are fashioned to meet the exigencies of
existence and ensure the security of the young. Some of these
birds are fond of their young and take great care of them, others
are quite the reverse; some are clever in procuring subsistence,
others are not so. Some of these birds build in ravines and
clefts, and on cliffs, as, for instance, the so-called charadrius, or
stone-curlew; this bird is in no way noteworthy for plumage or
voice; it makes an appearance at night, but in the daytime
keeps out of sight.
The hawk also builds in inaccessible places. Although a
ravenous bird, it will never eat the heart of any bird it catches;
this has been observed in the case of the quail, the thrush, and
other birds. They modify betimes their method of hunting, for in
summer they do not grab their prey as they do at other seasons.
Of the vulture, it is said that no one has ever seen either its
young or its nest; on this account and on the ground that all of
a sudden great numbers of them will appear without any one
being able to tell from whence they come, Herodorus, the father
of Bryson the sophist, says that it belongs to some distant and
elevated land. The reason is that the bird has its nest on
1741
12
Some birds live on the sea-shore, as the wagtail; the bird is of a
mischievous nature, hard to capture, but when caught capable
of complete domestication; it is a cripple, as being weak in its
hinder quarters.
Web-footed birds without exception live near the sea or rivers or
pools, as they naturally resort to places adapted to their
structure. Several birds, however, with cloven toes live near
pools or marshes, as, for instance, the anthus lives by the side of
rivers; the plumage of this bird is pretty, and it finds its food
with ease. The catarrhactes lives near the sea; when it makes a
dive, it will keep under water for as long as it would take a man
to walk a furlong; it is less than the common hawk. Swans are
web-footed, and live near pools and marshes; they find their
food with ease, are good-tempered, are fond of their young, and
live to a green old age. If the eagle attacks them they will repel
the attack and get the better of their assailant, but they are
never the first to attack. They are musical, and sing chiefly at
the approach of death; at this time they fly out to sea, and men,
when sailing past the coast of Libya, have fallen in with many of
1742
13
The jay has a great variety of notes: indeed, might almost say it
had a different note for every day in the year. It lays about nine
eggs; builds its nest on trees, out of hair and tags of wool; when
acorns are getting scarce, it lays up a store of them in hiding.
It is a common story of the stork that the old birds are fed by
their grateful progeny. Some tell a similar story of the bee-eater,
and declare that the parents are fed by their young not only
when growing old, but at an early period, as soon as the young
are capable of feeding them; and the parent-birds stay inside
the nest. The under part of the birds wing is pale yellow; the
1743
upper part is dark blue, like that of the halcyon; the tips of the
wings are About autumn-time it lays six or seven eggs, in
overhanging banks where the soil is soft; there it burrows into
the ground to a depth of six feet.
The greenfinch, so called from the colour of its belly, is as large
as a lark; it lays four or five eggs, builds its nest out of the plant
called comfrey, pulling it up by the roots, and makes an undermattress to lie on of hair and wool. The blackbird and the jay
build their nests after the same fashion. The nest of the
penduline tit shows great mechanical skill; it has the
appearance of a ball of flax, and the hole for entry is very small.
People who live where the bird comes from say that there exists
a cinnamon bird which brings the cinnamon from some
unknown localities, and builds its nest out of it; it builds on
high trees on the slender top branches. They say that the
inhabitants attach leaden weights to the tips of their arrows
and therewith bring down the nests, and from the intertexture
collect the cinnamon sticks.
14
The halcyon is not much larger than the sparrow. Its colour is
dark blue, green, and light purple; the whole body and wings,
and especially parts about the neck, show these colours in a
mixed way, without any colour being sharply defined; the beak
is light green, long and slender: such, then, is the look of the
bird. Its nest is like sea-balls, i.e. the things that by the name of
halosachne or seafoam, only the colour is not the same. The
colour of the nest is light red, and the shape is that of the longnecked gourd. The nests are larger than the largest sponge,
though they vary in size; they are roofed over, and great part of
1744
them is solid and great part hollow. If you use a sharp knife it is
not easy to cut the nest through; but if you cut it, and at the
same time bruise it with your hand, it will soon crumble to
pieces, like the halosachne. The opening is small, just enough
for a tiny entrance, so that even if the nest upset the sea does
not enter in; the hollow channels are like those in sponges. It is
not known for certain of what material the nest is constructed;
it is possibly made of the backbones of the gar-fish; for, by the
way, the bird lives on fish. Besides living on the shore, it ascends
fresh-water streams. It lays generally about five eggs, and lays
eggs all its life long, beginning to do so at the age of four
months.
15
The hoopoe usually constructs its nest out of human
excrement. It changes its appearance in summer and in winter,
as in fact do the great majority of wild birds. (The titmouse is
said to lay a very large quantity of eggs: next to the ostrich the
blackheaded tit is said by some to lay the largest number of
eggs; seventeen eggs have been seen; it lays, however, more
than twenty; it is said always to lay an odd number. Like others
we have mentioned, it builds in trees; it feeds on caterpillars.) A
peculiarity of this bird and of the nightingale is that the outer
extremity of the tongue is not sharp-pointed.
The aegithus finds its food with ease, has many young, and
walks with a limp. The golden oriole is apt at learning, is clever
at making a living, but is awkward in flight and has an ugly
plumage.
1745
16
The reed-warbler makes its living as easily as any other bird,
sits in summer in a shady spot facing the wind, in winter in a
sunny and sheltered place among reeds in a marsh; it is small
in size, with a pleasant note. The so-called chatterer has a
pleasant note, beautiful plumage, makes a living cleverly, and is
graceful in form; it appears to be alien to our country; at all
events it is seldom seen at a distance from its own immediate
home.
17
The crake is quarrelsome, clever at making a living, but in other
ways an unlucky bird. The bird called sitta is quarrelsome, but
clever and tidy, makes its living with ease, and for its
knowingness is regarded as uncanny; it has a numerous brood,
of which it is fond, and lives by pecking the bark of trees. The
aegolius-owl flies by night, is seldom seen by day; like others we
have mentioned, it lives on cliffs or in caverns; it feeds on two
kinds of food; it has a strong hold on life and is full of resource.
The tree-creeper is a little bird, of fearless disposition; it lives
among trees, feeds on caterpillars, makes a living with ease, and
has a loud clear note. The acanthis finds its food with difficulty;
its plumage is poor, but its note is musical.
1746
18
Of the herons, the ashen-coloured one, as has been said, unites
with the female not without pain; it is full of resource, carries
its food with it, is eager in the quest of it, and works by day; its
plumage is poor, and its excrement is always wet. Of the other
two species for there are three in all the white heron has
handsome plumage, unites without harm to itself with the
female, builds a nest and lays its eggs neatly in trees; it
frequents marshes and lakes and Plains and meadow land. The
speckled heron, which is nicknamed the skulker, is said in
folklore stories to be of servile origin, and, as its nickname
implies, it is the laziest bird of the three species. Such are the
habits of herons. The bird that is called the poynx has this
peculiarity, that it is more prone than any other bird to peck at
the eyes of an assailant or its prey; it is at war with the harpy, as
the two birds live on the same food.
19
There are two kinds of owsels; the one is black, and is found
everywhere, the other is quite white, about the same size as the
other, and with the same pipe. This latter is found on Cyllene in
Arcadia, and is found nowhere else. The laius, or blue-thrush, is
like the black owsel, only a little smaller; it lives on cliffs or on
tile roofings; it has not a red beak as the black owsel has.
1747
20
Of thrushes there are three species. One is the misselthrush; it
feeds only on mistletoe and resin; it is about the size of the jay.
A second is the song-thrush; it has a sharp pipe, and is about
the size of the owsel. There is another species called the Illas; it
is the smallest species of the three, and is less variegated in
plumage than the others.
21
There is a bird that lives on rocks, called the blue-bird from its
colour. It is comparatively common in Nisyros, and is somewhat
less than the owsel and a little bigger than the chaffinch. It has
large claws, and climbs on the face of the rocks. It is steel-blue
all over; its beak is long and slender; its legs are short, like those
of the woodpecker.
22
The oriole is yellow all over; it is not visible during winter, but
puts in an appearance about the time of the summer solstice,
and departs again at the rising of Arcturus; it is the size of the
turtle-dove. The so-called soft-head (or shrike) always settles on
one and the same branch, where it falls a prey to the
birdcatcher. Its head is big, and composed of gristle; it is a little
smaller than the thrush; its beak is strong, small, and round; it
is ashen-coloured all over; is fleet of foot, but slow of wing. The
bird-catcher usually catches it by help of the owl.
1748
23
There is also the pardalus. As a rule, it is seen in flocks and not
singly; it is ashen-coloured all over, and about the size of the
birds last described; it is fleet of foot and strong of wing, and its
pipe is loud and high-pitched. The collyrion (or fieldfare) feeds
on the same food as the owsel; is of the same size as the above
mentioned birds; and is trapped usually in the winter. All these
birds are found at all times. Further, there are the birds that live
as a rule in towns, the raven and the crow. These also are visible
at all seasons, never shift their place of abode, and never go into
winter quarters.
24
Of daws there are three species. One is the chough; it is as large
as the crow, but has a red beak. There is another, called the
wolf; and further there is the little daw, called the railer. There
is another kind of daw found in Lybia and Phrygia, which is
web-footed.
25
Of larks there are two kinds. One lives on the ground and has a
crest on its head; the other is gregarious, and not sporadic like
1749
26
The woodcock is caught with nets in gardens. It is about the
size of a barn-door hen; it has a long beak, and in plumage is
like the francolin-partridge. It runs quickly, and is pretty easily
domesticated. The starling is speckled; it is of the same size as
the owsel.
27
Of the Egyptian ibis there are two kinds, the white and the
black. The white ones are found over Egypt, excepting in
Pelusium; the black ones are found in Pelusium, and nowhere
else in Egypt.
28
Of the little horned owls there are two kinds, and one is visible
at all seasons, and for that reason has the nickname of all-theyear-round owl; it is not sufficiently palatable to come to table;
another species makes its appearance sometimes in the
autumn, is seen for a single day or at the most for two days, and
is regarded as a table delicacy; it scarcely differs from the first
species save only in being fatter; it has no note, but the other
1750
29
The cuckoo, as has been said elsewhere, makes no nest, but
deposits its eggs in an alien nest, generally in the nest of the
ring-dove, or on the ground in the nest of the hypolais or lark, or
on a tree in the nest of the green linnet. it lays only one egg and
does not hatch it itself, but the mother-bird in whose nest it has
deposited it hatches and rears it; and, as they say, this mother
bird, when the young cuckoo has grown big, thrusts her own
brood out of the nest and lets them perish; others say that this
mother-bird kills her own brood and gives them to the alien to
devour, despising her own young owing to the beauty of the
cuckoo. Personal observers agree in telling most of these stories,
but are not in agreement as to the instruction of the young.
Some say that the mother-cuckoo comes and devours the brood
of the rearing mother; others say that the young cuckoo from its
superior size snaps up the food brought before the smaller
brood have a chance, and that in consequence the smaller
brood die of hunger; others say that, by its superior strength, it
actually kills the other ones whilst it is being reared up with
them. The cuckoo shows great sagacity in the disposal of its
progeny; the fact is, the mother cuckoo is quite conscious of her
own cowardice and of the fact that she could never help her
young one in an emergency, and so, for the security of the
young one, she makes of him a supposititious child in an alien
nest. The truth is, this bird is pre-eminent among birds in the
way of cowardice; it allows itself to be pecked at by little birds,
and flies away from their attacks.
1751
30
It has already been stated that the footless bird, which some
term the cypselus, resembles the swallow; indeed, it is not easy
to distinguish between the two birds, excepting in the fact that
the cypselus has feathers on the shank. These birds rear their
young in long cells made of mud, and furnished with a hole just
big enough for entry and exit; they build under cover of some
roofing under a rock or in a cavern for protection against
animals and men.
The so-called goat-sucker lives on mountains; it is a little larger
than the owsel, and less than the cuckoo; it lays two eggs, or
three at the most, and is of a sluggish disposition. It flies up to
the she-goat and sucks its milk, from which habit it derives its
name; it is said that, after it has sucked the teat of the animal,
the teat dries up and the animal goes blind. It is dim-sighted in
the day-time, but sees well enough by night.
31
In narrow circumscribed districts where the food would be
insufficient for more birds than two, ravens are only found in
isolated pairs; when their young are old enough to fly, the
parent couple first eject them from the nest, and by and by
chase them from the neighbourhood. The raven lays four or five
eggs. About the time when the mercenaries under Medius were
slaughtered at Pharsalus, the districts about Athens and the
Peloponnese were left destitute of ravens, from which it would
1752
appear
that
these
birds
have
intercommunicating with one another.
some
means
of
32
Of eagles there are several species. One of them, called the
white-tailed eagle, is found on low lands, in groves, and in the
neighbourhood of cities; some call it the heron-killer. It is bold
enough to fly to mountains and the interior of forests. The other
eagles seldom visit groves or low-lying land. There is another
species called the plangus; it ranks second in point of size and
strength; it lives in mountain combes and glens, and by marshy
lakes, and goes by the name of duck-killer and swart-eagle. It
is mentioned by Homer in his account of the visit made by
Priam to the tent of Achilles. There is another species with black
Plumage, the smallest but boldest of all the kinds. It dwells on
mountains or in forests, and is called the black-eagle or the
hare-killer; it is the only eagle that rears its young and
thoroughly takes them out with it. It is swift of flight, is neat
and tidy in its habits, too proud for jealousy, fearless,
quarrelsome; it is also silent, for it neither whimpers nor
screams. There is another species, the percnopterus, very large,
with white head, very short wings, long tail-feathers, in
appearance like a vulture. It goes by the name of mountainstork or half-eagle. It lives in groves; has all the bad qualities
of the other species, and none of the good ones; for it lets itself
be chased and caught by the raven and the other birds. It is
clumsy in its movements, has difficulty in procuring its food,
preys on dead animals, is always hungry, and at all times
whining and screaming. There is another species, called the
sea-eagle or osprey. This bird has a large thick neck, curved
wings, and broad tailfeathers; it lives near the sea, grasps its
1753
prey with its talons, and often, from inability to carry it, tumbles
down into the water. There is another species called the truebred; people say that these are the only true-bred birds to be
found, that all other birds eagles, hawks, and the smallest
birds are all spoilt by the interbreeding of different species.
The true-bred eagle is the largest of all eagles; it is larger than
the phene; is half as large again as the ordinary eagle, and has
yellow plumage; it is seldom seen, as is the case with the socalled cymindis. The time for an eagle to be on the wing in
search of prey is from midday to evening; in the morning until
the market-hour it remains on the nest. In old age the upper
beak of the eagle grows gradually longer and more crooked, and
the bird dies eventually of starvation; there is a folklore story
that the eagle is thus punished because it once was a man and
refused entertainment to a stranger. The eagle puts aside its
superfluous food for its young; for owing to the difficulty in
procuring food day by day, it at times may come back to the nest
with nothing. If it catch a man prowling about in the
neighbourhood of its nest, it will strike him with its wings and
scratch him with its talons. The nest is built not on low ground
but on an elevated spot, generally on an inaccessible ledge of a
cliff; it does, however, build upon a tree. The young are fed until
they can fly; hereupon the parent-birds topple them out of the
nest, and chase them completely out of the locality. The fact is
that a pair of eagles demands an extensive space for its
maintenance, and consequently cannot allow other birds to
quarter themselves in close neighbourhood. They do not hunt in
the vicinity of their nest, but go to a great distance to find their
prey. When the eagle has captured a beast, it puts it down
without attempting to carry it off at once; if on trial it finds the
burden too heavy, it will leave it. When it has spied a hare, it
does not swoop on it at once, but lets it go on into the open
ground; neither does it descend to the ground at one swoop, but
goes gradually down from higher flights to lower and lower:
1754
33
In Scythia there is found a bird as large as the great bustard. The
female lays two eggs, but does not hatch them, but hides them
in the skin of a hare or fox and leaves them there, and, when it
is not in quest of prey, it keeps a watch on them on a high tree;
if any man tries to climb the tree, it fights and strikes him with
its wing, just as eagles do.
34
The owl and the night-raven and all the birds see poorly in the
daytime seek their prey in the night, but not all the night
through, but at evening and dawn. Their food consists of mice,
lizards, chafers and the like little creatures. The so-called phene,
or lammergeier, is fond of its young, provides its food with ease,
fetches food to its nest, and is of a kindly disposition. It rears its
1755
own young and those of the eagle as well; for when the eagle
ejects its young from the nest, this bird catches them up as they
fall and feeds them. For the eagle, by the way, ejects the young
birds prematurely, before they are able to feed themselves, or to
fly. It appears to do so from jealousy; for it is by nature jealous,
and is so ravenous as to grab furiously at its food; and when it
does grab at its food, it grabs it in large morsels. It is accordingly
jealous of the young birds as they approach maturity, since they
are getting good appetites, and so it scratches them with its
talons. The young birds fight also with one another, to secure a
morsel of food or a comfortable position, whereupon the
mother-bird beats them and ejects them from the nest; the
young ones scream at this treatment, and the phene hearing
them catches them as they fall. The phene has a film over its
eyes and sees badly, but the sea-eagle is very keen-sighted, and
before its young are fledged tries to make them stare at the sun,
and beats the one that refuses to do so, and twists him back in
the suns direction; and if one of them gets watery eyes in the
process, it kills him, and rears the other. It lives near the sea,
and feeds, as has been said, on sea-birds; when in pursuit of
them it catches them one by one, watching the moment when
the bird rises to the surface from its dive. When a sea-bird,
emerging from the water, sees the sea-eagle, he in terror dives
under, intending to rise again elsewhere; the eagle, however,
owing to its keenness of vision, keeps flying after him until he
either drowns the bird or catches him on the surface. The eagle
never attacks these birds when they are in a swarm, for they
keep him off by raising a shower of water-drops with their
wings.
1756
35
The cepphus is caught by means of sea-foam; the bird snaps at
the foam, and consequently fishermen catch it by sluicing with
showers of sea-water. These birds grow to be plump and fat;
their flesh has a good odour, excepting the hinder quarters,
which smell of shoreweed.
36
Of hawks, the strongest is the buzzard; the next in point of
courage is the merlin; and the circus ranks third; other diverse
kinds are the asterias, the pigeon-hawk, and the pternis; the
broaded-winged hawk is called the half-buzzard; others go by
the name of hobby-hawk, or sparrow-hawk, or smoothfeathered, or toad-catcher. Birds of this latter species find
their food with very little difficulty, and flutter along the ground.
Some say that there are ten species of hawks, all differing from
one another. One hawk, they say, will strike and grab the pigeon
as it rests on the ground, but never touch it while it is in flight;
another hawk attacks the pigeon when it is perched upon a tree
or any elevation, but never touches it when it is on the ground
or on the wing; other hawks attack their prey only when it is on
the wing. They say that pigeons can distinguish the various
species: so that, when a hawk is an assailant, if it be one that
attacks its prey when the prey is on the wing, the pigeon will sit
still; if it be one that attacks sitting prey, the pigeon will rise up
and fly away.
In Thrace, in the district sometimes called that of Cedripolis,
men hunt for little birds in the marshes with the aid of hawks.
The men with sticks in their hands go beating at the reeds and
brushwood to frighten the birds out, and the hawks show
1757
37
So much for the habits of birds.
In marine creatures, also, one In marine creatures, also, one
may observe many ingenious devices adapted to the
circumstances of their lives. For the accounts commonly given
of the so-called fishing-frog are quite true; as are also those
given of the torpedo. The fishing-frog has a set of filaments that
project in front of its eyes; they are long and thin like hairs, and
are round at the tips; they lie on either side, and are used as
baits. Accordingly, when the animal stirs up a place full of sand
and mud and conceals itself therein, it raises the filaments, and,
when the little fish strike against them, it draws them in
underneath into its mouth. The torpedo narcotizes the
creatures that it wants to catch, overpowering them by the
power of shock that is resident in its body, and feeds upon
them; it also hides in the sand and mud, and catches all the
creatures that swim in its way and come under its narcotizing
influence. This phenomenon has been actually observed in
operation. The sting-ray also conceals itself, but not exactly in
the same way. That the creatures get their living by this means
is obvious from the fact that, whereas they are peculiarly
1758
inactive, they are often caught with mullets in their interior, the
swiftest of fishes. Furthermore, the fishing-frog is unusually
thin when he is caught after losing the tips of his filaments, and
the torpedo is known to cause a numbness even in human
beings. Again, the hake, the ray, the flat-fish, and the angelfish
burrow in the sand, and after concealing themselves angle with
the filaments on their mouths, that fishermen call their fishingrods, and the little creatures on which they feed swim up to the
filaments taking them for bits of sea-weed, such as they feed
upon.
Wherever an anthias-fish is seen, there will be no dangerous
creatures in the vicinity, and sponge-divers will dive in security,
and they call these signal-fishes holy-fish. It is a sort of
perpetual coincidence, like the fact that wherever snails are
present you may be sure there is neither pig nor partridge in the
neighbourhood; for both pig and partridge eat up the snails.
The sea-serpent resembles the conger in colour and shape, but
is of lesser bulk and more rapid in its movements. If it be caught
and thrown away, it will bore a hole with its snout and burrow
rapidly in the sand; its snout, by the way, is sharper than that of
ordinary serpents. The so-called sea-scolopendra, after
swallowing the hook, turns itself inside out until it ejects it, and
then it again turns itself outside in. The sea-scolopendra, like
the land-scolopendra, will come to a savoury bait; the creature
does not bite with its teeth, but stings by contact with its entire
body, like the so-called sea-nettle. The so-called fox-shark,
when it finds it has swallowed the hook, tries to get rid of it as
the scolopendra does, but not in the same way; in other words,
it runs up the fishing-line, and bites it off short; it is caught in
some districts in deep and rapid waters, with night-lines.
The bonitos swarm together when they espy a dangerous
creature, and the largest of them swim round it, and if it
1759
touches one of the shoal they try to repel it; they have strong
teeth. Amongst other large fish, a lamia-shark, after falling in
amongst a shoal, has been seen to be covered with wounds.
Of river-fish, the male of the sheat-fish is remarkably attentive
to the young. The female after parturition goes away; the male
stays and keeps on guard where the spawn is most abundant,
contenting himself with keeping off all other little fishes that
might steal the spawn or fry, and this he does for forty or fifty
days, until the young are sufficiently grown to make away from
the other fishes for themselves. The fishermen can tell where
he is on guard: for, in warding off the little fishes, he makes a
rush in the water and gives utterance to a kind of muttering
noise. He is so earnest in the performance of his parental duties
that the fishermen at times, if the eggs be attached to the roots
of water-plants deep in the water, drag them into as shallow a
place as possible; the male fish will still keep by the young, and,
if it so happen, will be caught by the hook when snapping at the
little fish that come by; if, however, he be sensible by experience
of the danger of the hook, he will still keep by his charge, and
with his extremely strong teeth will bite the hook in pieces.
All fishes, both those that wander about and those that are
stationary, occupy the districts where they were born or very
similar places, for their natural food is found there. Carnivorous
fish wander most; and all fish are carnivorous with the
exception of a few, such as the mullet, the saupe, the red mullet,
and the chalcis. The so-called pholis gives out a mucous
discharge, which envelops the creature in a kind of nest. Of
shell-fish, and fish that are finless, the scallop moves with
greatest force and to the greatest distance, impelled along by
some internal energy; the murex or purple-fish, and others that
resemble it, move hardly at all. Out of the lagoon of Pyrrha all
the fishes swim in winter-time, except the sea-gudgeon; they
swim out owing to the cold, for the narrow waters are colder
1760
than the outer sea, and on the return of the early summer they
all swim back again. In the lagoon no scarus is found, nor
thritta, nor any other species of the spiny fish, no spotted
dogfish, no spiny dogfish, no sea-crawfish, no octopus either of
the common or the musky kinds, and certain other fish are also
absent; but of fish that are found in the lagoon the white
gudgeon is not a marine fish. Of fishes the oviparous are in their
prime in the early summer until the spawning time; the
viviparous in the autumn, as is also the case with the mullet,
the red mullet, and all such fish. In the neighbourhood of
Lesbos, the fishes of the outer sea, or of the lagoon, bring forth
their eggs or young in the lagoon; sexual union takes place in
the autumn, and parturition in the spring. With fishes of the
cartilaginous kind, the males and females swarm together in
the autumn for the sake of sexual union; in the early summer
they come swimming in, and keep apart until after parturition;
the two sexes are often taken linked together in sexual union.
Of molluscs the sepia is the most cunning, and is the only
species that employs its dark liquid for the sake of concealment
as well as from fear: the octopus and calamary make the
discharge solely from fear. These creatures never discharge the
pigment in its entirety; and after a discharge the pigment
accumulates again. The sepia, as has been said, often uses its
colouring pigment for concealment; it shows itself in front of
the pigment and then retreats back into it; it also hunts with its
long tentacles not only little fishes, but oftentimes even mullets.
The octopus is a stupid creature, for it will approach a mans
hand if it be lowered in the water; but it is neat and thrifty in its
habits: that is, it lays up stores in its nest, and, after eating up
all that is eatable, it ejects the shells and sheaths of crabs and
shell-fish, and the skeletons of little fishes. It seeks its prey by
so changing its colour as to render it like the colour of the
stones adjacent to it; it does so also when alarmed. By some the
sepia is said to perform the same trick; that is, they say it can
1761
1762
38
Of all insects, one may also say of all living creatures, the most
industrious are the ant, the bee, the hornet, the wasp, and in
point of fact all creatures akin to these; of spiders some are
more skilful and more resourceful than others. The way in
which ants work is open to ordinary observation; how they all
march one after the other when they are engaged in putting
away and storing up their food; all this may be seen, for they
carry on their work even during bright moonlight nights.
39
Of spiders and phalangia there are many species. Of the
venomous phalangia there are two; one that resembles the so-
1763
40
So much for the spider. Of insects, there is a genus that has no
one name that comprehends all the species, though all the
species are akin to one another in form; it consists of all the
insects that construct a honeycomb: to wit, the bee, and all the
insects that resemble it in form.
There are nine varieties, of which six are gregarious the bee,
the king-bee, the drone bee, the annual wasp, and, furthermore,
the anthrene (or hornet), and the tenthredo (or ground-wasp);
three are solitary the smaller siren, of a dun colour, the larger
siren, black and speckled, and the third, the largest of all, that is
called the humble-bee. Now ants never go a-hunting, but gather
up what is ready to hand; the spider makes nothing, and lays up
no store, but simply goes a-hunting for its food; while the bee
1765
for we shall by and by treat of the nine varieties does not go ahunting, but constructs its food out of gathered material and
stores it away, for honey is the bees food. This fact is shown by
the beekeepers attempt to remove the combs; for the bees,
when they are fumigated, and are suffering great distress from
the process, then devour the honey most ravenously, whereas at
other times they are never observed to be so greedy, but
apparently are thrifty and disposed to lay by for their future
sustenance. They have also another food which is called beebread; this is scarcer than honey and has a sweet figlike taste;
this they carry as they do the wax on their legs.
Very remarkable diversity is observed in their methods of
working and their general habits. When the hive has been
delivered to them clean and empty, they build their waxen cells,
bringing in the juice of all kinds of flowers and the tears or
exuding sap of trees, such as willows and elms and such others
as are particularly given to the exudation of gum. With this
material they besmear the groundwork, to provide against
attacks of other creatures; the bee-keepers call this stuff stopwax. They also with the same material narrow by side-building
the entrances to the hive if they are too wide. They first build
cells for themselves; then for the so-called kings and the
drones; for themselves they are always building, for the kings
only when the brood of young is numerous, and cells for the
drones they build if a superabundance of honey should suggest
their doing so. They build the royal cells next to their own, and
they are of small bulk; the drones cells they build near by, and
these latter are less in bulk than the bees cells.
They begin building the combs downwards from the top of the
hive, and go down and down building many combs connected
together until they reach the bottom. The cells, both those for
the honey and those also for the grubs, are double-doored; for
two cells are ranged about a single base, one pointing one way
1766
and one the other, after the manner of a double (or hour-glassshaped) goblet. The cells that lie at the commencement of the
combs and are attached to the hives, to the extent of two or
three concentric circular rows, are small and devoid of honey;
the cells that are well filled with honey are most thoroughly
luted with wax. At the entry to the hive the aperture of the
doorway is smeared with mitys; this substance is a deep black,
and is a sort of dross or residual by-product of wax; it has a
pungent odour, and is a cure for bruises and suppurating sores.
The greasy stuff that comes next is pitch-wax; it has a less
pungent odour and is less medicinal than the mitys. Some say
that the drones construct combs by themselves in the same
hive and in the same comb that they share with the bees; but
that they make no honey, but subsist, they and their grubs also,
on the honey made by the bees. The drones, as a rule, keep
inside the hive; when they go out of doors, they soar up in the
air in a stream, whirling round and round in a kind of
gymnastic exercise; when this is over, they come inside the hive
and feed to repletion ravenously. The kings never quit the hive,
except in conjunction with the entire swarm, either for food or
for any other reason. They say that, if a young swarm go astray,
it will turn back upon its route and by the aid of scent seek out
its leader. It is said that if he is unable to fly he is carried by the
swarm, and that if he dies the swarm perishes; and that, if this
swarm outlives the king for a while and constructs combs, no
honey is produced and the bees soon die out.
Bees scramble up the stalks of flowers and rapidly gather the
bees-wax with their front legs; the front legs wipe it off on to
the middle legs, and these pass it on to the hollow curves of the
hind-legs; when thus laden, they fly away home, and one may
see plainly that their load is a heavy one. On each expedition
the bee does not fly from a flower of one kind to a flower of
another, but flies from one violet, say, to another violet, and
never meddles with another flower until it has got back to the
1767
hive; on reaching the hive they throw off their load, and each
bee on his return is accompanied by three or four companions.
One cannot well tell what is the substance they gather, nor the
exact process of their work. Their mode of gathering wax has
been observed on olive-trees, as owing to the thickness of the
leaves the bees remain stationary for a considerable while. After
this work is over, they attend to the grubs. There is nothing to
prevent grubs, honey, and drones being all found in one and the
same comb. As long as the leader is alive, the drones are said to
be produced apart by themselves; if he be no longer living, they
are said to be reared by the bees in their own cells, and under
these circumstances to become more spirited: for this reason
they are called sting-drones, not that they really have stings,
but that they have the wish without the power, to use such
weapons. The cells for the drones are larger than the others;
sometimes the bees construct cells for the drones apart, but
usually they put them in amongst their own; and when this is
the case the bee-keepers cut the drone-cells out of the combs.
There are several species of bees, as has been said; two of
kings, the better kind red, the other black and variegated, and
twice as big as the working-bee. The best workingbee is small,
round, and speckled: another kind is long and like an anthrene
wasp; another kind is what is called the robber-bee, black and
flat-bellied; then there is the drone, the largest of all, but devoid
of sting, and lazy. There is a difference between the progeny of
bees that inhabit cultivated land and of those from the
mountains: the forest-bees are more shaggy, smaller, more
industrious and more fierce. Working-bees make their combs all
even, with the superficial covering quite smooth. Each comb is
of one kind only: that is, it contains either bees only, or grubs
only, or drones only; if it happen, however, that they make in
one and the same comb all these kinds of cells, each separate
kind will be built in a continuous row right through. The long
bees build uneven combs, with the lids of the cells protuberant,
1768
1769
search of food and return back to the swarm. In hives that are in
good condition the production of young bees is discontinued
only for the forty days that follow the winter solstice. When the
grubs are grown, the bees put food beside them and cover them
with a coating of wax; and, as soon as the grub is strong
enough, he of his own accord breaks the lid and comes out.
Creatures that make their appearance in hives and spoil the
combs the working-bees clear out, but the other bees from
sheer laziness look with indifference on damage done to their
produce. When the bee-masters take out the combs, they leave
enough food behind for winter use; if it be sufficient in quantity,
the occupants of the hive will survive; if it be insufficient, then,
if the weather be rough, they die on the spot, but if it be fair,
they fly away and desert the hive. They feed on honey summer
and winter; but they store up another article of food resembling
wax in hardness, which by some is called sandarace, or beebread. Their worst enemies are wasps and the birds named
titmice, and furthermore the swallow and the bee-eater. The
frogs in the marsh also catch them if they come in their way by
the water-side, and for this reason bee-keepers chase the frogs
from the ponds from which the bees take water; they destroy
also wasps nests, and the nests of swallows, in the
neighbourhood of the hives, and also the nests of bee-eaters.
Bees have fear only of one another. They fight with one another
and with wasps. Away from the hive they attack neither their
own species nor any other creature, but in the close proximity
of the hive they kill whatever they get hold of. Bees that sting
die from their inability to extract the sting without at the same
time extracting their intestines. True, they often recover, if the
person stung takes the trouble to press the sting out; but once it
loses its sting the bee must die. They can kill with their stings
even large animals; in fact, a horse has been known to have
been stung to death by them. The kings are the least disposed to
show anger or to inflict a sting. Bees that die are removed from
1771
the hive, and in every way the creature is remarkable for its
cleanly habits; in point of fact, they often fly away to a distance
to void their excrement because it is malodorous; and, as has
been said, they are annoyed by all bad smells and by the scent
of perfumes, so much so that they sting people that use
perfumes.
They perish from a number of accidental causes, and when
their kings become too numerous and try each to carry away a
portion of the swarm.
The toad also feeds on bees; he comes to the doorway of the
hive, puffs himself out as he sits on the watch, and devours the
creatures as they come flying out; the bees can in no way
retaliate, but the bee-keeper makes a point of killing him.
As for the class of bee that has been spoken of as inferior or
good-for-nothing, and as constructing its combs so roughly,
some bee-keepers say that it is the young bees that act so from
inexperience; and the bees of the current year are termed
young. The young bees do not sting as the others do; and it is
for this reason that swarms may be safely carried, as it is of
young bees that they are composed. When honey runs short
they expel the drones, and the bee-keepers supply the bees with
figs and sweet-tasting articles of food. The elder bees do the
indoor work, and are rough and hairy from staying indoors; the
young bees do the outer carrying, and are comparatively
smooth. They kill the drones also when in their work they are
confined for room; the drones, by the way, live in the innermost
recess of the hive. On one occasion, when a hive was in a poor
condition, some of the occupants assailed a foreign hive;
proving victorious in a combat they took to carrying off the
honey; when the bee-keeper tried to kill them, the other bees
came out and tried to beat off the enemy but made no attempt
to sting the man.
1772
The diseases that chiefly attack prosperous hives are first of all
the clerus-this consists in a growth of little worms on the floor,
from which, as they develop, a kind of cobweb grows over the
entire hive, and the combs decay; another diseased condition is
indicated in a lassitude on the part of the bees and in
malodorousness of the hive. Bees feed on thyme; and the white
thyme is better than the red. In summer the place for the hive
should be cool, and in winter warm. They are very apt to fall
sick if the plant they are at work on be mildewed. In a high wind
they carry a stone by way of ballast to steady them. If a stream
be near at hand, they drink from it and from it only, but before
they drink they first deposit their load; if there be no water near
at hand, they disgorge their honey as they drink elsewhere, and
at once make off to work. There are two seasons for making
honey, spring and autumn; the spring honey is sweeter, whiter,
and in every way better than the autumn honey. Superior honey
comes from fresh comb, and from young shoots; the red honey
is inferior, and owes its inferiority to the comb in which it is
deposited, just as wine is apt to be spoiled by its cask;
consequently, one should have it looked to and dried. When the
thyme is in flower and the comb is full, the honey does not
harden. The honey that is golden in hue is excellent. White
honey does not come from thyme pure and simple; it is good as
a salve for sore eyes and wounds. Poor honey always floats on
the surface and should be skimmed off; the fine clear honey
rests below. When the floral world is in full bloom, then they
make wax; consequently you must then take the wax out of the
hive, for they go to work on new wax at once. The flowers from
which they gather honey are as follows: the spindle-tree, the
melilot-clover, kings-spear, myrtle, flowering-reed, withy, and
broom. When they work at thyme, they mix in water before
sealing up the comb. As has been already stated, they all either
fly to a distance to discharge their excrement or make the
discharge into one single comb. The little bees, as has been said,
1773
are more industrious than the big ones; their wings are
battered; their colour is black, and they have a burnt-up aspect.
Gaudy and showy bees, like gaudy and showy women, are goodfor-nothings.
Bees seem to take a pleasure in listening to a rattling noise; and
consequently men say that they can muster them into a hive by
rattling with crockery or stones; it is uncertain, however,
whether or no they can hear the noise at all and also whether
their procedure is due to pleasure or alarm. They expel from the
hive all idlers and unthrifts. As has been said, they differentiate
their work; some make wax, some make honey, some make beebread, some shape and mould combs, some bring water to the
cells and mingle it with the honey, some engage in out-of-door
work. At early dawn they make no noise, until some one
particular bee makes a buzzing noise two or three times and
thereby awakes the rest; hereupon they all fly in a body to work.
By and by they return and at first are noisy; then the noise
gradually decreases, until at last some one bee flies round
about, making a buzzing noise, and apparently calling on the
others to go to sleep; then all of a sudden there is a dead
silence.
The hive is known to be in good condition if the noise heard
within it is loud, and if the bees make a flutter as they go out
and in; for at this time they are constructing brood-cells. They
suffer most from hunger when they recommence work after
winter. They become somewhat lazy if the bee-keeper, in
robbing the hive, leave behind too much honey; still one should
leave cells numerous in proportion to the population, for the
bees work in a spiritless way if too few combs are left. They
become idle also, as being dispirited, if the hive be too big. A
hive yields to the bee-keeper six or nine pints of honey; a
prosperous hive will yield twelve or fifteen pints, exceptionally
good hives eighteen. Sheep and, as has been said, wasps are
1774
41
Of wasps, there are two kinds. Of these kinds one is wild and
scarce, lives on the mountains, engenders grubs not
underground but on oak-trees, is larger, longer, and blacker than
the other kind, is invariably speckled and furnished with a sting,
and is remarkably courageous. The pain from its sting is more
severe than that caused by the others, for the instrument that
causes the pain is larger, in proportion to its own larger size.
These wild live over into a second year, and in winter time,
when oaks have been in course of felling, they may be seen
1775
coming out and flying away. They lie concealed during the
winter, and live in the interior of logs of wood. Some of them are
mother-wasps and some are workers, as with the tamer kind;
but it is by observation of the tame wasps that one may learn
the varied characteristics of the mothers and the workers. For in
the case of the tame wasps also there are two kinds; one
consists of leaders, who are called mothers, and the other of
workers. The leaders are far larger and milder-tempered than
the others. The workers do not live over into a second year, but
all die when winter comes on; and this can be proved, for at the
commencement of winter the workers become drowsy, and
about the time of the winter solstice they are never seen at all.
The leaders, the so-called mothers, are seen all through the
winter, and live in holes underground; for men when ploughing
or digging in winter have often come upon mother-wasps, but
never upon workers. The mode of reproduction of wasps is as
follows. At the approach of summer, when the leaders have
found a sheltered spot, they take to moulding their combs, and
construct the so-called sphecons, little nests containing four
cells or thereabouts, and in these are produced working-wasps
but not mothers. When these are grown up, then they construct
other larger combs upon the first, and then again in like
manner others; so that by the close of autumn there are
numerous large combs in which the leader, the so-called
mother, engenders no longer working-wasps but mothers.
These develop high up in the nest as large grubs, in cells that
occur in groups of four or rather more, pretty much in the same
way as we have seen the grubs of the king-bees to be produced
in their cells. After the birth of the working-grubs in the cells,
the leaders do nothing and the workers have to supply them
with nourishment; and this is inferred from the fact that the
leaders (of the working-wasps) no longer fly out at this time, but
rest quietly indoors. Whether the leaders of last year after
engendering new leaders are killed by the new brood, and
1776
1777
that one set are males and the other females. In holes in the
ground in winter-time wasps are found, some with stings, and
some without. Some build cells, small and few in number;
others build many and large ones. The so-called mothers are
caught at the change of season, mostly on elm-trees, while
gathering a substance sticky and gumlike. A large number of
mother-wasps are found when in the previous year wasps have
been numerous and the weather rainy; they are captured in
precipitous places, or in vertical clefts in the ground, and they
all appear to be furnished with stings.
42
So much for the habits of wasps.
Anthrenae do not subsist by culling from flowers as bees do, but
for the most part on animal food: for this reason they hover
about dung; for they chase the large flies, and after catching
them lop off their heads and fly away with the rest of the
carcases; they are furthermore fond of sweet fruits. Such is their
food. They have also kings or leaders like bees and wasps; and
their leaders are larger in proportion to themselves than are
wasp-kings to wasps or bee-kings to bees. The anthrena-king,
like the wasp-king, lives indoors. Anthrenae build their nests
underground, scraping out the soil like ants; for neither
anthrenae nor wasps go off in swarms as bees do, but
successive layers of young anthrenae keep to the same habitat,
and go on enlarging their nest by scraping out more and more
of soil. The nest accordingly attains a great size; in fact, from a
particularly prosperous nest have been removed three and even
four baskets full of combs. They do not, like bees, store up food,
but pass the winter in a torpid condition; the greater part of
1778
43
Humble-bees produce their young under a stone, right on the
ground, in a couple of cells or little more; in these cells is found
an attempt at honey, of a poor description. The tenthredon is
like the anthrena, but speckled, and about as broad as a bee.
Being epicures as to their food, they fly, one at a time, into
kitchens and on to slices of fish and the like dainties. The
tenthredon brings forth, like the wasp, underground, and is very
prolific; its nest is much bigger and longer than that of the
wasp. So much for the methods of working and the habits of life
of the bee, the wasp, and all the other similar insects.
1779
44
As regards the disposition or temper of animals, as has been
previously observed, one may detect great differences in respect
to courage and timidity, as also, even among wild animals, in
regard to tameness and wildness. The lion, while he is eating, is
most ferocious; but when he is not hungry and has had a good
meal, he is quite gentle. He is totally devoid of suspicion or
nervous fear, is fond of romping with animals that have been
reared along with him and to whom he is accustomed, and
manifests great affection towards them. In the chase, as long as
he is in view, he makes no attempt to run and shows no fear,
but even if he be compelled by the multitude of the hunters to
retreat, he withdraws deliberately, step by step, every now and
then turning his head to regard his pursuers. If, however, he
reach wooded cover, then he runs at full speed, until he comes
to open ground, when he resumes his leisurely retreat. When, in
the open, he is forced by the number of the hunters to run while
in full view, he does run at the top of his speed, but without
leaping and bounding. This running of his is evenly and
continuously kept up like the running of a dog; but when he is
in pursuit of his prey and is close behind, he makes a sudden
pounce upon it. The two statements made regarding him are
quite true; the one that he is especially afraid of fire, as Homer
pictures him in the line and glowing torches, which, though
fierce he dreads, and the other, that he keeps a steady eye
upon the hunter who hits him, and flings himself upon him. If a
hunter hit him, without hurting him, then if with a bound he
gets hold of him, he will do him no harm, not even with his
claws, but after shaking him and giving him a fright will let him
go again. They invade the cattle-folds and attack human beings
when they are grown old and so by reason of old age and the
diseased condition of their teeth are unable to pursue their
wonted prey. They live to a good old age. The lion who was
captured when lame, had a number of his teeth broken; which
1780
45
The bison is found in Paeonia on Mount Messapium, which
separates Paeonia from Maedica; and the Paeonians call it the
monapos. It is the size of a bull, but stouter in build, and not
1781
long in the body; its skin, stretched tight on a frame, would give
sitting room for seven people. In general it resembles the ox in
appearance, except that it has a mane that reaches down to the
point of the shoulder, as that of the horse reaches down to its
withers; but the hair in its mane is softer than the hair in the
horses mane, and clings more closely. The colour of the hair is
brown-yellow; the mane reaches down to the eyes, and is deep
and thick. The colour of the body is half red, half ashen-grey,
like that of the so-called chestnut horse, but rougher. It has an
undercoat of woolly hair. The animal is not found either very
black or very red. It has the bellow of a bull. Its horns are
crooked, turned inwards towards each other and useless for
purposes of self-defence; they are a span broad, or a little more,
and in volume each horn would hold about three pints of liquid;
the black colour of the horn is beautiful and bright. The tuft of
hair on the forehead reaches down to the eyes, so that the
animal sees objects on either flank better than objects right in
front. It has no upper teeth, as is the case also with kine and all
other horned animals. Its legs are hairy; it is cloven-footed, and
the tail, which resembles that of the ox, seems not big enough
for the size of its body. It tosses up dust and scoops out the
ground with its hooves, like the bull. Its skin is impervious to
blows. Owing to the savour of its flesh it is sought for in the
chase. When it is wounded it runs away, and stops only when
thoroughly exhausted. It defends itself against an assailant by
kicking and projecting its excrement to a distance of eight
yards; this device it can easily adopt over and over again, and
the excrement is so pungent that the hair of hunting-dogs is
burnt off by it. It is only when the animal is disturbed or
alarmed that the dung has this property; when the animal is
undisturbed it has no blistering effect. So much for the shape
and habits of the animal. When the season comes for
parturition the mothers give birth to their young in troops upon
the mountains. Before dropping their young they scatter their
1782
46
Of all wild animals the most easily tamed and the gentlest is
the elephant. It can be taught a number of tricks, the drift and
meaning of which it understands; as, for instance, it can taught
to kneel in presence of the king. It is very sensitive, and
possessed of an intelligence superior to that of other animals.
When the male has had sexual union with the female, and the
female has conceived, the male has no further intercourse with
her.
Some say that the elephant lives for two hundred years; others,
for one hundred and twenty; that the female lives nearly as
long as the male; that they reach their prime about the age of
sixty, and that they are sensitive to inclement weather and
frost. The elephant is found by the banks of rivers, but he is not
a river animal; he can make his way through water, as long as
the tip of his trunk can be above the surface, for he blows with
his trunk and breathes through it. The animal is a poor
swimmer owing to the heavy weight of his body.
47
The male camel declines intercourse with its mother; if his
keeper tries compulsion, he evinces disinclination. On one
occasion, when intercourse was being declined by the young
1783
male, the keeper covered over the mother and put the young
male to her; but, when after the intercourse the wrapping had
been removed, though the operation was completed and could
not be revoked, still by and by he bit his keeper to death. A story
goes that the king of Scythia had a highly-bred mare, and that
all her foals were splendid; that wishing to mate the best of the
young males with the mother, he had him brought to the stall
for the purpose; that the young horse declined; that, after the
mothers head had been concealed in a wrapper he, in
ignorance, had intercourse; and that, when immediately
afterwards the wrapper was removed and the head of the mare
was rendered visible, the young horse ran way and hurled
himself down a precipice.
48
Among the sea-fishes many stories are told about the dolphin,
indicative of his gentle and kindly nature, and of manifestations
of passionate attachment to boys, in and about Tarentum, Caria,
and other places. The story goes that, after a dolphin had been
caught and wounded off the coast of Caria, a shoal of dolphins
came into the harbour and stopped there until the fisherman
let his captive go free; whereupon the shoal departed. A shoal of
young dolphins is always, by way of protection, followed by a
large one. On one occasion a shoal of dolphins, large and small,
was seen, and two dolphins at a little distance appeared
swimming in underneath a little dead dolphin when it was
sinking, and supporting it on their backs, trying out of
compassion to prevent its being devoured by some predaceous
fish. Incredible stories are told regarding the rapidity of
movement of this creature. It appears to be the fleetest of all
animals, marine and terrestrial, and it can leap over the masts
1784
49
Just as with all animals a change of action follows a change of
circumstance, so also a change of character follows a change of
action, and often some portions of the physical frame undergo a
change, occurs in the case of birds. Hens, for instance, when
they have beaten the cock in a fight, will crow like the cock and
endeavour to tread him; the crest rises up on their head and the
tail-feathers on the rump, so that it becomes difficult to
recognize that they are hens; in some cases there is a growth of
small spurs. On the death of a hen a cock has been seen to
undertake the maternal duties, leading the chickens about and
providing them with food, and so intent upon these duties as to
cease crowing and indulging his sexual propensities. Some
cock-birds are congenitally so feminine that they will submit
patiently to other males who attempt to tread them.
1785
50
Some animals change their form and character, not only at
certain ages and at certain seasons, but in consequence of being
castrated; and all animals possessed of testicles may be
submitted to this operation. Birds have their testicles inside,
and oviparous quadrupeds close to the loins; and of viviparous
animals that walk some have them inside, and most have them
outside, but all have them at the lower end of the belly. Birds are
castrated at the rump at the part where the two sexes unite in
copulation. If you burn this twice or thrice with hot irons, then,
if the bird be full-grown, his crest grows sallow, he ceases to
crow, and foregoes sexual passion; but if you cauterize the bird
when young, none of these male attributes propensities will
come to him as he grows up. The case is the same with men: if
you mutilate them in boyhood, the later-growing hair never
comes, and the voice never changes but remains high-pitched;
if they be mutilated in early manhood, the late growths of hair
quit them except the growth on the groin, and that diminishes
but does not entirely depart. The congenital growths of hair
never fall out, for a eunuch never grows bald. In the case of all
castrated or mutilated male quadrupeds the voice changes to
the feminine voice. All other quadrupeds when castrated,
unless the operation be performed when they are young,
invariably die; but in the case of boars, and in their case only,
the age at which the operation is performed produces no
difference. All animals, if operated on when they are young,
become bigger and better looking than their unmutilated
fellows; if they be mutilated when full-grown, they do not take
on any increase of size. If stags be mutilated, when, by reason of
their age, they have as yet no horns, they never grow horns at
1786
49B
A considerable number of birds change according to season the
colour of their plumage and their note; as, for instance, the
owsel becomes yellow instead of black, and its note gets altered,
for in summer it has a musical note and in winter a discordant
chatter. The thrush also changes its colour; about the throat it is
marked in winter with speckles like a starling, in summer
distinctly spotted: however, it never alters its note. The
nightingale, when the hills are taking on verdure, sings
continually for fifteen days and fifteen nights; afterwards it
sings, but not continuously. As summer advances it has a
different song, not so varied as before, nor so deep, nor so
intricately modulated, but simple; it also changes its colour, and
in Italy about this season it goes by a different name. It goes
into hiding, and is consequently visible only for a brief period.
The erithacus (or redbreast) and the so-called redstart change
into one another; the former is a winter bird, the latter a
summer one, and the difference between them is practically
limited to the coloration of their plumage. In the same way with
the beccafico and the blackcap; these change into one another.
1788
1789
1790
Book I
1
Every systematic science, the humblest and the noblest alike,
seems to admit of two distinct kinds of proficiency; one of
which may be properly called scientific knowledge of the
subject, while the other is a kind of educational acquaintance
with it. For an educated man should be able to form a fair offhand judgement as to the goodness or badness of the method
used by a professor in his exposition. To be educated is in fact to
be able to do this; and even the man of universal education we
deem to be such in virtue of his having this ability. It will,
however, of course, be understood that we only ascribe
universal education to one who in his own individual person is
thus critical in all or nearly all branches of knowledge, and not
to one who has a like ability merely in some special subject. For
it is possible for a man to have this competence in some one
branch of knowledge without having it in all.
It is plain then that, as in other sciences, so in that which
inquires into nature, there must be certain canons, by reference
to which a hearer shall be able to criticize the method of a
professed exposition, quite independently of the question
whether the statements made be true or false. Ought we, for
instance (to give an illustration of what I mean), to begin by
discussing each separate species man, lion, ox, and the like
1791
1792
1793
1795
1796
1798
1799
1801
2
Some writers propose to reach the definitions of the ultimate
forms of animal life by bipartite division. But this method is
often difficult, and often impracticable.
Sometimes the final differentia of the subdivision is sufficient
by itself, and the antecedent differentiae are mere surplusage.
1802
3
Again, privative terms inevitably form one branch of
dichotomous division, as we see in the proposed dichotomies.
But privative terms in their character of privatives admit of no
subdivision. For there can be no specific forms of a negation, of
Featherless for instance or of Footless, as there are of Feathered
and of Footed. Yet a generic differentia must be subdivisible; for
otherwise what is there that makes it generic rather than
specific? There are to be found generic, that is specifically
subdivisible, differentiae; Feathered for instance and Footed. For
feathers are divisible into Barbed and Unbarbed, and feet into
Manycleft, and Twocleft, like those of animals with bifid hoofs,
and Uncleft or Undivided, like those of animals with solid hoofs.
Now even with differentiae capable of this specific subdivision
1803
1805
1806
4
It deserves inquiry why a single name denoting a higher group
was not invented by mankind, as an appellation to comprehend
the two groups of Water animals and Winged animals. For even
these have certain attributes in common. However, the present
nomenclature is just. Groups that only differ in degree, and in
the more or less of an identical element that they possess, are
aggregated under a single class; groups whose attributes are not
identical but analogous are separated. For instance, bird differs
from bird by gradation, or by excess and defect; some birds have
long feathers, others short ones, but all are feathered. Bird and
Fish are more remote and only agree in having analogous
organs; for what in the bird is feather, in the fish is scale. Such
analogies can scarcely, however, serve universally as indications
for the formation of groups, for almost all animals present
analogies in their corresponding parts.
The individuals comprised within a species, such as Socrates
and Coriscus, are the real existences; but inasmuch as these
individuals possess one common specific form, it will suffice to
state the universal attributes of the species, that is, the
attributes common to all its individuals, once for all, as
otherwise there will be endless reiteration, as has already been
pointed out.
But as regards the larger groups such as Birds which
comprehend many species, there may be a question. For on the
one hand it may be urged that as the ultimate species represent
the real existences, it will be well, if practicable, to examine
1808
1809
5
Of things constituted by nature some are ungenerated,
imperishable, and eternal, while others are subject to
generation and decay. The former are excellent beyond compare
and divine, but less accessible to knowledge. The evidence that
might throw light on them, and on the problems which we long
to solve respecting them, is furnished but scantily by sensation;
whereas respecting perishable plants and animals we have
abundant information, living as we do in their midst, and ample
data may be collected concerning all their various kinds, if only
we are willing to take sufficient pains. Both departments,
however, have their special charm. The scanty conceptions to
which we can attain of celestial things give us, from their
excellence, more pleasure than all our knowledge of the world
in which we live; just as a half glimpse of persons that we love
is more delightful than a leisurely view of other things,
whatever their number and dimensions. On the other hand, in
certitude and in completeness our knowledge of terrestrial
things has the advantage. Moreover, their greater nearness and
affinity to us balances somewhat the loftier interest of the
heavenly things that are the objects of the higher philosophy.
Having already treated of the celestial world, as far as our
conjectures could reach, we proceed to treat of animals, without
omitting, to the best of our ability, any member of the kingdom,
however ignoble. For if some have no graces to charm the sense,
yet even these, by disclosing to intellectual perception the
1810
1811
1812
Book II
1
The nature and the number of the parts of which animals are
severally composed are matters which have already been set
forth in detail in the book of Researches about Animals. We
have now to inquire what are the causes that in each case have
determined this composition, a subject quite distinct from that
dealt with in the Researches.
Now there are three degrees of composition; and of these the
first in order, as all will allow, is composition out of what some
1813
1814
1815
So far, then, as has yet been stated, the relations between these
two orders of parts are determined by a final cause. We have,
however, to inquire whether necessity may not also have a
share in the matter; and it must be admitted that these mutual
relations could not from the very beginning have possibly been
other than they are. For heterogeneous parts can be made up
out of homogeneous parts, either from a plurality of them, or
from a single one, as is the case with some of the viscera which,
varying in configuration, are yet, to speak broadly, formed from
a single homogeneous substance; but that homogeneous
substances should be formed out of a combination of
heterogeneous parts is clearly an impossibility. For these
causes, then, some parts of animals are simple and
homogeneous, while others are composite and heterogeneous;
and dividing the parts into the active or executive and the
sensitive, each one of the former is, as before said,
heterogeneous, and each one of the latter homogeneous. For it
is in homogeneous parts alone that sensation can occur, as the
following considerations show.
Each sense is confined to a single order of sensibles, and its
organ must be such as to admit the action of that kind or order.
But it is only that which is endowed with a property in posse
that is acted on by that which has the like property in esse, so
that the two are the same in kind, and if the latter is single so
also is the former. Thus it is that while no physiologists ever
dream of saying of the hand or face or other such part that one
is earth, another water, another fire, they couple each separate
sense-organ with a separate element, asserting this one to be
air and that other to be fire.
Sensation, then, is confined to the simple or homogeneous
parts. But, as might reasonably be expected, the organ of touch,
though still homogeneous, is yet the least simple of all the
sense-organs. For touch more than any other sense appears to
1816
2
Of the homogeneous parts of animals, some are soft and fluid,
others hard and solid; and of the former some are fluid
permanently, others only so long as they are in the living body.
Such are blood, serum, lard, suet, marrow, semen, bile, milk
when present, flesh, and their various analogues. For the parts
enumerated are not to be found in all animals, some animals
only having parts analogous to them. Of the hard and solid
homogeneous parts bone, fish-spine, sinew, blood-vessel, are
examples. The last of these points to a sub-division that may be
made in the class of homogeneous parts. For in some of them
the whole and a portion of the whole in one sense are
designated by the same term as, for example, is the case with
blood-vessel and bit of blood-vessel while in another sense
they are not; but a portion of a heterogeneous part, such as face,
in no sense has the same designation as the whole.
The first question to be asked is what are the causes to which
these homogeneous parts owe their existence? The causes are
various; and this whether the parts be solid or fluid. Thus one
set of homogeneous parts represent the material out of which
the heterogeneous parts are formed; for each separate organ is
constructed of bones, sinews, flesh, and the like; which are
either essential elements in its formation, or contribute to the
proper discharge of its function. A second set are the nutriment
of the first, and are invariably fluid, for all growth occurs at the
1818
expense of fluid matter; while a third set are the residue of the
second. Such, for instance, are the faeces and, in animals that
have a bladder, the urine; the former being the dregs of the solid
nutriment, the latter of the fluid.
Even the individual homogeneous parts present variations,
which are intended in each case to render them more
serviceable for their purpose. The variations of the blood may be
selected to illustrate this. For different bloods differ in their
degrees of thinness or thickness, of clearness or turbidity, of
coldness or heat; and this whether we compare the bloods from
different parts of the same individual or the bloods of different
animals. For, in the individual, all the differences just
enumerated distinguish the blood of the upper and of the lower
halves of the body; and, dealing with classes, one section of
animals is sanguineous, while the other has no blood, but only
something resembling it in its place. As regards the results of
such differences, the thicker and the hotter blood is, the more
conducive is it to strength, while in proportion to its thinness
and its coldness is its suitability for sensation and intelligence.
A like distinction exists also in the fluid which is analogous to
blood. This explains how it is that bees and other similar
creatures are of a more intelligent nature than many
sanguineous animals; and that, of sanguineous animals, those
are the most intelligent whose blood is thin and cold. Noblest of
all are those whose blood is hot, and at the same time thin and
clear. For such are suited alike for the development of courage
and of intelligence. Accordingly, the upper parts are superior in
these respects to the lower, the male superior to the female, and
the right side to the left. As with the blood so also with the
other parts, homogeneous and heterogeneous alike. For here
also such variations as occur must be held either to be related
to the essential constitution and mode of life of the several
animals, or, in other cases, to be merely matters of slightly
better or slightly worse. Two animals, for instance, may have
1819
than oil; yet it gets cold and solid more rapidly than this other
fluid. Blood, again, is hotter to the touch than either water or oil,
and yet coagulates before them. Iron, again, and stones and
other similar bodies are longer in getting heated than water, but
when once heated burn other substances with a much greater
intensity. Another distinction is this. In some of the bodies
which are called hot the heat is derived from without, while in
others it belongs to the bodies themselves; and it makes a most
important difference whether the heat has the former or the
latter origin. For to call that one of two bodies the hotter, which
is possessed of heat, we may almost say, accidentally and not of
its own essence, is very much the same thing as if, finding that
some man in a fever was a musician, one were to say that
musicians are hotter than healthy men. Of that which is hot per
se and that which is hot per accidens, the former is the slower
to cool, while not rarely the latter is the hotter to the touch. The
former again is the more burning of the two flame, for
instance, as compared with boiling water while the latter, as
the boiling water, which is hot per accidens, is the more heating
to the touch. From all this it is clear that it is no simple matter
to decide which of two bodies is the hotter. For the first may be
the hotter in one sense, the second the hotter in another.
Indeed in some of these cases it is impossible to say simply
even whether a thing is hot or not. For the actual substratum
may not itself be hot, but may be hot when coupled witb heat as
an attribute, as would be the case if one attached a single name
to hot water or hot iron. It is after this manner that blood is hot.
In such cases, in those, that is, in which the substratum owes its
heat to an external influence, it is plain that cold is not a mere
privation, but an actual existence.
There is no knowing but that even fire may be another of these
cases. For the substratum of fire may be smoke or charcoal, and
though the former of these is always hot, smoke being an
uprising vapour, yet the latter becomes cold when its flame is
1822
1823
3
In natural sequence we have next to treat of solid and fluid.
These terms are used in various senses. Sometimes, for
instance, they denote things that are potentially, at other times
things that are actually, solid or fluid. Ice for example, or any
other solidified fluid, is spoken of as being actually and
accidentally solid, while potentially and essentially it is fluid.
Similarly earth and ashes and the like, when mixed with water,
are actually and accidentally fluid, but potentially and
essentially are solid. Now separate the constituents in such a
mixture and you have on the one hand the watery components
to which its fluidity was due, and these are both actually and
potentially fluid, and on the other hand the earthy components,
and these are in every way solid; and it is to bodies that are
solid in this complete manner that the term solid is most
properly and absolutely applicable. So also the opposite term
fluld is strictly and absolutely applicable to that only which is
both potentially and actually fluid. The same remark applies
also to hot bodies and to cold.
These distinctions, then, being laid down, it is plain that blood
is essentially hot in so far as that heat is connoted in its name;
just as if boiling water were denoted by a single term, boiling
would be connoted in that term. But the substratum of blood,
that which it is in substance while it is blood in form, is not hot.
Blood then in a certain sense is essentially hot, and in another
sense is not so. For heat is included in the definition of blood,
just as whiteness is included in the definition of a white man,
and so far therefore blood is essentially hot. But so far as blood
becomes hot from some external influence, it is not hot
essentially.
1824
As with hot and cold, so also is it with solid and fluid. We can
therefore understand how some substances are hot and fluid so
long as they remain in the living body, but become perceptibly
cold and coagulate so soon as they are separated from it; while
others are hot and consistent while in the body, but when
withdrawn under a change to the opposite condition, and
become cold and fluid. Of the former blood is an example, of the
latter bile; for while blood solidifies when thus separated,
yellow bile under the same circumstances becomes more fluid.
We must attribute to such substances the possession of
opposite properties in a greater or less degree.
In what sense, then, the blood is hot and in what sense fluid,
and how far it partakes of the opposite properties, has now
been fairly explained. Now since everything that grows must
take nourishment, and nutriment in all cases consists of fluid
and solid substances, and since it is by the force of heat that
these are concocted and changed, it follows that all living
things, animals and plants alike, must on this account, if on no
other, have a natural source of heat. This natural heat,
moreover, must belong to many parts, seeing that the organs by
which the various elaborations of the food are effected are
many in number. For first of all there is the mouth and the parts
inside the mouth, on which the first share in the duty clearly
devolves, in such animals at least as live on food which requires
disintegration. The mouth, however, does not actually concoct
the food, but merely facilitates concoction; for the subdivision
of the food into small bits facilitates the action of heat upon it.
After the mouth come the upper and the lower abdominal
cavities, and here it is that concoction is effected by the aid of
natural heat. Again, just as there is a channel for the admission
of the unconcocted food into the stomach, namely the mouth,
and in some animals the so-called oesophagus, which is
continuous with the mouth and reaches to the stomach, so
must there also be other and more numerous channels by
1825
1826
4
What are called fibres are found in the blood of some animals
but not of all. There are none, for instance, in the blood of deer
and of roes; and for this reason the blood of such animals as
these never coagulates. For one part of the blood consists
mainly of water and therefore does not coagulate, this process
occurring only in the other and earthy constituent, that is to say
in the fibres, while the fluid part is evaporating.
Some at any rate of the animals with watery blood have a
keener intellect than those whose blood is of an earthier nature.
This is due not to the coldness of their blood, but rather to its
thinness and purity; neither of which qualities belongs to the
earthy matter. For the thinner and purer its fluid is, the more
easily affected is an animals sensibility. Thus it is that some
bloodless animals, notwithstanding their want of blood, are yet
more intelligent than some among the sanguineous kinds. Such
for instance, as already said, is the case with the bee and the
tribe of ants, and whatever other animals there may be of a like
nature. At the same time too great an excess of water makes
1827
1828
5
The differences between lard and suet correspond to
differences of blood. For both are blood concocted into these
forms as a result of abundant nutrition, being that surplus blood
that is not expended on the fleshy part of the body, and is of an
easily concocted and fatty character. This is shown by the
unctuous aspect of these substances; for such unctuous aspect
in fluids is due to a combination of air and fire. It follows from
what has been said that no non-sanguineous animals have
either lard or suet; for they have no blood. Among sanguineous
animals those whose blood is dense have suet rather than lard.
For suet is of an earthy nature, that is to say, it contains but a
small proportion of water and is chiefly composed of earth; and
this it is that makes it coagulate, just as the fibrous matter of
blood coagulates, or broths which contain such fibrous matter.
Thus it is that in those horned animals that have no front teeth
in the upper jaw the fat consists of suet. For the very fact that
they have horns and huckle-bones shows that their
composition is rich in this earthy element; for all such
appurtenances are solid and earthy in character. On the other
hand in those hornless animals that have front teeth in both
jaws, and whose feet are divided into toes, there is no suet, but
1829
6
So much then of blood and serum, and of lard and suet. Each of
these has been described, and the purposes told for which they
severally exist. The marrow also is of the nature of blood, and
not, as some think, the germinal force of the semen. That this is
1830
1831
7
From the marrow we pass on in natural sequence to the brain.
For there are many who think that the brain itself consists of
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
8
We have now to consider the remaining homogeneous parts,
and will begin with flesh, and with the substance that, in
animals that have no flesh, takes its place. The reason for so
beginning is that flesh forms the very basis of animals, and is
the essential constituent of their body. Its right to this
precedence can also be demonstrated logically. For an animal is
by our definition something that has sensibility and chief of all
the primary sensibility, which is that of Touch; and it is the
flesh, or analogous substance, which is the organ of this sense.
And it is the organ, either in the same way as the pupil is the
organ of sight, that is it constitutes the primary organ of the
sense; or it is the organ and the medium through which the
object acts combined, that is it answers to the pupil with the
whole transparent medium attached to it. Now in the case of
the other senses it was impossible for nature to unite the
medium with the sense-organ, nor would such a junction have
served any purpose; but in the case of touch she was compelled
by necessity to do so. For of all the sense-organs that of touch is
the only one that has corporeal substance, or at any rate it is
more corporeal than any other, and its medium must be
corporeal like itself.
It is obvious also to sense that it is for the sake of the flesh that
all the other parts exist. By the other parts I mean the bones,
the skin, the sinews, and the blood-vessels, and, again, the hair
and the various kinds of nails, and anything else there may be
of a like character. Thus the bones are a contrivance to give
security to the soft parts, to which purpose they are adapted by
their hardness; and in animals that have no bones the same
office is fulfilled by some analogous substance, as by fishspine
in some fishes, and by cartilage in others.
1837
1838
9
There is a resemblance between the osseous and the vascular
systems; for each has a central part in which it begins, and each
forms a continuous whole. For no bone in the body exists as a
separate thing in itself, but each is either a portion of what may
be considered a continuous whole, or at any rate is linked with
the rest by contact and by attachments; so that nature may use
adjoining bones either as though they were actually continuous
and formed a single bone, or, for purposes of flexure, as though
they were two and distinct. And similarly no blood-vessel has in
itself a separate individuality; but they all form parts of one
whole. For an isolated bone, if such there were, would in the
first place be unable to perform the office for the sake of which
bones exist; for, were it discontinuous and separated from the
rest by a gap, it would be perfectly unable to produce either
flexure or extension; nor only so, but it would actually be
injurious, acting like a thorn or an arrow lodged in the flesh.
Similarly if a vessel were isolated, and not continuous with the
1839
1841
1843
10
Let us now make, as it were, a fresh beginning, and consider the
heterogeneous parts, taking those first which are the first in
importance. For in all animals, at least in all the perfect kinds,
there are two parts more essential than the rest, namely the
part which serves for the ingestion of food, and the part which
serves for the discharge of its residue. For without food growth
and even existence is impossible. Intervening again between
these two parts there is invariably a third, in which is lodged the
vital principle. As for plants, though they also are included by us
among things that have life, yet are they without any part for
the discharge of waste residue. For the food which they absorb
from the ground is already concocted, and they give off as its
equivalent their seeds and fruits. Plants, again, inasmuch as
they are without locomotion, present no great variety in their
heterogeneous parts. For, where the functions are but few, few
also are the organs required to effect them. The configuration of
plants is a matter then for separate consideration. Animals,
however, that not only live but feel, present a greater
multiformity of parts, and this diversity is greater in some
animals than in others, being most varied in those to whose
share has fallen not mere life but life of high degree. Now such
an animal is man. For of all living beings with which we are
acquainted man alone partakes of the divine, or at any rate
partakes of it in a fuller measure than the rest. For this reason,
then, and also because his external parts and their forms are
more familiar to us than those of other animals, we must speak
of man first; and this the more fitly, because in him alone do the
natural parts hold the natural position; his upper part being
turned towards that which is upper in the universe. For, of all
animals, man alone stands erect.
In man, then, the head is destitute of flesh; this being the
necessary consequence of what has already been stated
1844
concerning the brain. There are, indeed, some who hold that the
life of man would be longer than it is, were his head more
abundantly furnished with flesh; and they account for the
absence of this substance by saying that it is intended to add to
the perfection of sensation. For the brain they assert to be the
organ of sensation; and sensation, they say, cannot penetrate to
parts that are too thickly covered with flesh. But neither part of
this statement is true. On the contrary, were the region of the
brain thickly covered with flesh, the very purpose for which
animals are provided with a brain would be directly
contravened. For the brain would itself be heated to excess and
so unable to cool any other part; and, as to the other half of
their statement, the brain cannot be the cause of any of the
sensations, seeing that it is itself as utterly without feeling as
any one of the excretions. These writers see that certain of the
senses are located in the head, and are unable to discern the
reason for this; they see also that the brain is the most peculiar
of all the animal organs; and out of these facts they form an
argument, by which they link sensation and brain together. It
has, however, already been clearly set forth in the treatise on
Sensation, that it is the region of the heart that constitutes the
sensory centre. There also it was stated that two of the senses,
namely touch and taste, are manifestly in immediate connexion
with the heart; and that as regards the other three, namely
hearing, sight, and the centrally placed sense of smell, it is the
character of their sense-organs which causes them to be lodged
as a rule in the head. Vision is so placed in all animals. But such
is not invariably the case with hearing or with smell. For fishes
and the like hear and smell, and yet have no visible organs for
these senses in the head; a fact which demonstrates the
accuracy of the opinion here maintained. Now that vision,
whenever it exists, should be in the neighbourhood of the brain
is but what one would rationally expect. For the brain is fluid
and cold, and vision is of the nature of water, water being of all
1845
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1847
11
For instance, in quadrupeds the ears stand out freely from the
head and are set to all appearance above the eyes. Not that they
are in reality above the eyes; but they seem to be so, because the
animal does not stand erect, but has its head hung downwards.
This being the usual attitude of the animal when in motion, it is
of advantage that its ears shall be high up and movable; for by
turning themselves about they can the better take in sounds
from every quarter.
12
In birds, on the other hand, there are no ears, but only the
auditory passages. This is because their skin is hard and
because they have feathers instead of hairs, so that they have
not got the proper material for the formation of ears. Exactly the
same is the case with such oviparous quadrupeds as are clad
with scaly plates, and the same explanation applies to them.
There is also one of the viviparous quadrupeds, namely the seal,
that has no ears but only the auditory passages. The
explanation of this is that the seal, though a quadruped, is a
quadruped of stunted formation.
13
Men, and Birds, and Quadrupeds, viviparous and oviparous
alike, have their eyes protected by lids. In the Vivipara there are
1848
two of these; and both are used by these animals not only in
closing the eyes, but also in the act of blinking; whereas the
oviparous quadrupeds, and the heavy-bodied birds as well as
some others, use only the lower lid to close the eye; while birds
blink by means of a membrane that issues from the canthus.
The reason for the eyes being thus protected is that nature has
made them of fluid consistency, in order to ensure keenness of
vision. For had they been covered with hard skin, they would, it
is true, have been less liable to get injured by anything falling
into them from without, but they would not have been sharpsighted. It is then to ensure keenness of vision that the skin
over the pupil is fine and delicate; while the lids are superadded
as a protection from injury. It is as a still further safeguard that
all these animals blink, and man most of all; this action (which
is not performed from deliberate intention but from a natural
instinct) serving to keep objects from falling into the eyes; and
being more frequent in man than in the rest of these animals,
because of the greater delicacy of his skin. These lids are made
of a roll of skin; and it is because they are made of skin and
contain no flesh that neither they, nor the similarly constructed
prepuce, unite again when once cut.
As to the oviparous quadrupeds, and such birds as resemble
them in closing the eye with the lower lid, it is the hardness of
the skin of their heads which makes them do so. For such birds
as have heavy bodies are not made for flight; and so the
materials which would otherwise have gone to increase the
growth of the feathers are diverted thence, and used to
augment the thickness of the skin. Birds therefore of this kind
close the eye with the lower lid; whereas pigeons and the like
use both upper and lower lids for the purpose. As birds are
covered with feathers, so oviparous quadrupeds are covered
with scaly plates; and these in all their forms are harder than
hairs, so that the skin also to which they belong is harder than
the skin of hairy animals. In these animals, then, the skin on
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14
All animals that have hairs on the body have lashes on the
eyelids; but birds and animals with scale-like plates, being
hairless, have none. The Libyan ostrich, indeed, forms an
exception; for, though a bird, it is furnished with eyelashes. This
exception, however, will be explained hereafter. Of hairy
animals, man alone has lashes on both lids. For in quadrupeds
there is a greater abundance of hair on the back than on the
under side of the body; whereas in man the contrary is the case,
and the hair is more abundant on the front surface than on the
back. The reason for this is that hair is intended to serve as a
protection to its possessor. Now, in quadrupeds, owing to their
inclined attitude, the under or anterior surface does not require
so much protection as the back, and is therefore left
comparatively bald, in spite of its being the nobler of the two
sides. But in man, owing to his upright attitude, the anterior and
posterior surfaces of the body are on an equality as regards
need of protection. Nature therefore has assigned the protective
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15
Both eyebrows and eyelashes exist for the protection of the
eyes; the former that they may shelter them, like the eaves of a
house, from any fluids that trickle down from the head; the
latter to act like the palisades which are sometimes placed in
front of enclosures, and keep out any objects which might
otherwise get in. The brows are placed over the junction of two
bones, which is the reason that in old age they often become so
bushy as to require cutting. The lashes are set at the
terminations of small blood-vessels. For the vessels come to an
end where the skin itself terminates; and, in all places where
these endings occur, the exudation of moisture of a corporeal
character necessitates the growth of hairs, unless there be some
operation of nature which interferes, by diverting the moisture
to another purpose.
16
Viviparous quadrupeds, as a rule, present no great variety of
form in the organ of smell. In those of them, however, whose
jaws project forwards and taper to a narrow end, so as to form
what is called a snout, the nostrils are placed in this projection,
there being no other available plan; while, in the rest, there is a
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1854
solid hoof, the fore-feet, owing to the great size and weight of
the body, are reduced to the condition of mere supports; and
indeed their slow motion and unfitness for bending make them
useless for any other purpose. A nostril, then, is given to the
elephant for respiration, as to every other animal that has a
lung, and is lengthened out and endowed with its power of
coiling because the animal has to remain for considerable
periods of time in the water, and is unable to pass thence to dry
ground with any rapidity. But as the feet are shorn of their full
office, this same part is also, as already said, made by nature to
supply their place, and give such help as otherwise would be
rendered by them.
As to other sanguineous animals, the Birds, the Serpents, and
the Oviparous quadrupeds, in all of them there are the nostrilholes, placed in front of the mouth; but in none are there any
distinctly formed nostrils, nothing in fact which can be called
nostrils except from a functional point of view. A bird at any rate
has nothing which can properly be called a nose. For its socalled beak is a substitute for jaws. The reason for this is to be
found in the natural conformation of birds. For they are winged
bipeds; and this makes it necessary that their heads and neck
shall be of light weight; just as it makes it necessary that their
breast shall be narrow. The beak therefore with which they are
provided is formed of a bone-like substance, in order that it may
serve as a weapon as well as for nutritive purposes, but is made
of narrow dimensions to suit the small size of the head. In this
beak are placed the olfactory passages. But there are no nostrils;
for such could not possibly be placed there.
As for those animals that have no respiration, it has already
been explained why it is that they are without nostrils, and
perceive odours either through gills, or through a blowhole, or, if
they are insects, by the hypozoma; and how the power of
smelling depends, like their motion, upon the innate spirit of
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17
The tongue is placed under the vaulted roof of the mouth. In
land animals it presents but little diversity. But in other animals
it is variable, and this whethe+r we compare them as a class
with such as live on land, or compare their several species with
each other. It is in man that the tongue attains its greatest
degree of freedom, of softness, and of breadth; the object of this
being to render it suitable for its double function. For its
softness fits it for the perception of savours, a sense which is
more delicate in man than in any other animal, softness being
most impressionable by touch, of which sense taste is but a
variety. This same softness again, together with its breadth,
adapts it for the articulation of letters and for speech. For these
qualities, combined with its freedom from attachment, are
those which suit it best for advancing and retiring in every
direction. That this is so is plain, if we consider the case of those
who are tongue-tied in however slight a degree. For their speech
is indistinct and lisping; that is to say there are certain letters
which they cannot pronounce. In being broad is comprised the
possibility of becoming narrow; for in the great the small is
included, but not the great in the small.
What has been said explains why, among birds, those that are
most capable of pronouncing letters are such as have the
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1860
Book III
1
We have next to consider the teeth, and with these the mouth,
that is the cavity which they enclose and form. The teeth have
one invariable office, namely the reduction of food; but besides
this general function they have other special ones, and these
differ in different groups. Thus in some animals the teeth serve
as weapons; but this with a distinction. For there are offensive
weapons and there are defensive weapons; and while in some
animals, as the wild Carnivora, the teeth answer both purposes,
in many others, both wild and domesticated, they serve only for
defence. In man the teeth are admirably constructed for their
general office, the front ones being sharp, so as to cut the food
into bits, and the hinder ones broad and flat, so as to grind it to
a pulp; while between these and separating them are the dogteeth, which, in accordance with the rule that the mean
partakes of both extremes, share in the characters of those on
either side, being broad in one part but sharp in another. Similar
distinctions of shape are presented by the teeth of other
animals, with the exception of those whose teeth are one and
all of the sharp kind. In man, however, the number and the
character even of these sharp teeth have been mainly
determined by the requirements of speech. For the front teeth
of man contribute in many ways to the formation of lettersounds.
In some animals, however, the teeth, as already said, serve
merely for the reduction of food. When, besides this, they serve
as offensive and defensive weapons, they may either be formed
into tusks, as for instance is the case in swine, or may be sharp-
1861
1862
with them, and accounts for similar facts relating to all other
such parts.
All fishes have teeth of the serrated form, with the single
exception of the fish known as the Scarus. In many of them
there are teeth even on the tongue and on the roof of the
mouth. The reason for this is that, living as they do in the water,
they cannot but allow this fluid to pass into the mouth with the
food. The fluid thus admitted they must necessarily discharge
again without delay. For were they not to do so, but to retain it
for a time while triturating the food, the water would run into
their digestive cavities. Their teeth therefore are all sharp, being
adapted only for cutting, and are numerous and set in many
parts, that their abundance may serve in lieu of any grinding
faculty, to mince the food into small bits. They are also curved,
because these are almost the only weapons which fishes
possess.
In all these offices of the teeth the mouth also takes its part; but
besides these functions it is subservient to respiration, in all
such animals as breathe and are cooled by external agency. For
nature, as already said, uses the parts which are common to all
animals for many special purposes, and this of her own accord.
Thus the mouth has one universal function in all animals alike,
namely its alimentary office; but in some, besides this, the
special duty of serving as a weapon is attached to it; in others
that of ministering to speech; and again in many, though not in
all, the office of respiration. All these functions are thrown by
nature upon one single organ, the construction of which she
varies so as to suit the variations of office. Therefore it is that in
some animals the mouth is contracted, while in others it is of
wide dimensions. The contracted form belongs to such animals
as use the mouth merely for nutritive, respiratory, and vocal
purposes; whereas in such as use it as a means of defence it has
a wide gape. This is its invariable form in such animals as are
1863
1864
others of like habits of life, the tips of the bill end in hard points,
which gives them additional facility in dealing with herbaceous
food.
The several parts which are set on the head have now, pretty
nearly all, been considered. In man, however, the part which lies
between the head and the neck is called the face, this name,
(prosopon) being, it would seem, derived from the function of
the part. For as man is the only animal that stands erect, he is
also the only one that looks directly in front (proso) and the
only one whose voice is emitted in that direction.
2
We have now to treat of horns; for these also, when present, are
appendages of the head. They exist in none but viviparous
animals; though in some ovipara certain parts are
metaphorically spoken of as horns, in virtue of a certain
resemblance. To none of such parts, however, does the proper
office of a horn belong; for they are never used, as are the horns
of vivipara, for purposes which require strength, whether it be
in self-protection or in offensive strife. So also no polydactylous
animal is furnished with horns. For horns are defensive
weapons, and these polydactylous animals possess other
means of security. For to some of them nature has given claws,
to others teeth suited for combat, and to the rest some other
adequate defensive appliance. There are horns, however, in
most of the cloven-hoofed animals, and in some of those that
have a solid hoof, serving them as an offensive weapon, and in
some cases also as a defensive one. There are horns also in all
animals that have not been provided by nature with some other
means of security; such means, for instance, as speed, which
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1867
Deer are the only animals in which the horns are solid
throughout, and are also the only animals that cast them. This
casting is not simply advantageous to the deer from the
increased lightness which it produces, but, seeing how heavy
the horns are, is a matter of actual necessity.
In all other animals the horns are hollow for a certain distance,
and the end alone is solid, this being the part of use in a blow.
At the same time, to prevent even the hollow part from being
weak, the horn, though it grows out of the skin, has a solid piece
from the bones fitted into its cavity. For this arrangement is not
only that which makes the horns of the greatest service in
fighting, but that which causes them to be as little of an
impediment as possible in the other actions of life.
Such then are the reasons for which horns exist; and such the
reasons why they are present in some animals, absent from
others.
Let us now consider the character of the material nature whose
necessary results have been made available by rational nature
for a final cause.
In the first place, then, the larger the bulk of animals, the
greater is the proportion of corporeal and earthy matter which
they contain. Thus no very small animal is known to have
horns, the smallest horned animal that we are acquainted with
being the gazelle. But in all our speculations concerning nature,
what we have to consider is the general rule; for that is natural
which applies either universally or generally. And thus when we
say that the largest animals have most earthy matter, we say so
because such is the general rule. Now this earthy matter is used
in the animal body to form bone. But in the larger animals there
is an excess of it, and this excess is turned by nature to useful
account, being converted into weapons of defence. Part of it
necessarily flows to the upper portion of the body, and this is
1868
3
Below the head lies the neck, in such animals as have one. This
is the case with those only that have the parts to which a neck
is subservient. These parts are the larynx and what is called the
oesophagus. Of these the former, or larynx, exists for the sake of
respiration, being the instrument by which such animals as
breathe inhale and discharge the air. Therefore it is that, when
there is no lung, there is also no neck. Of this condition the
Fishes are an example. The other part, or oesophagus, is the
channel through which food is conveyed to the stomach; so that
1869
all animals that are without a neck are also without a distinct
oesophagus; Such a part is in fact not required of necessity for
nutritive purposes; for it has no action whatsoever on the food.
Indeed there is nothing to prevent the stomach from being
placed directly after the mouth. This, however, is quite
impossible in the case of the lung. For there must be some sort
of tube common to the two divisions of the lung, by which it
being bipartite the breath may be apportioned to their
respective bronchi, and thence pass into the air-pipes; and such
an arrangement will be the best for giving perfection to
inspiration and expiration. The organ then concerned in
respiration must of necessity be of some length; and this, again,
necessitates there being an oesophagus to unite mouth and
stomach. This oesophagus is of a flesh-like character, and yet
admits of extension like a sinew. This latter property is given to
it, that it may stretch when food is introduced; while the fleshlike character is intended to make it soft and yielding, and to
prevent it from being rasped by particles as they pass
downwards, and so suffering damage. On the other hand, the
windpipe and the so-called larynx are constructed out of a
cartilaginous substance. For they have to serve not only for
respiration, but also for vocal purposes; and an instrument that
is to produce sounds must necessarily be not only smooth but
firm. The windpipe lies in front of the oesophagus, although this
position causes it to be some hindrance to the latter in the act
of deglutition. For if a morsel of food, fluid or solid, slips into it
by accident, choking and much distress and violent fits of
coughing ensue. This must be a matter of astonishment to any
of those who assert that it is by the windpipe that an animal
imbibes fluid. For the consequences just mentioned occur
invariably, whenever a particle of food slips in, and are quite
obvious. Indeed on many grounds it is ridiculous to say that this
is the channel through which animals imbibe fluid. For there is
no passage leading from the lung to the stomach, such as the
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4
We have now dealt with the neck, the oesophagus, and the
windpipe, and have next to treat of the viscera. These are
peculiar to sanguineous animals, some of which have all of
them, others only a part, while no bloodless animals have any
at all. Democritus then seems to have been mistaken in the
notion he formed of the viscera, if, that is to say, he fancied that
the reason why none were discoverable in bloodless animals
was that these animals were too small to allow them to be seen.
For, in sanguineous animals, both heart and liver are visible
enough when the body is only just formed, and while it is still
extremely small. For these parts are to be seen in the egg
sometimes as early as the third day, being then no bigger than a
point; and are visible also in aborted embryos, while still
excessively minute. Moreover, as the external organs are not
precisely alike in all animals, but each creature is provided with
such as are suited to its special mode of life and motion, so is it
with the internal parts, these also differing in different animals.
Viscera, then, are peculiar to sanguineous animals; and
therefore are each and all formed from sanguineous material, as
is plainly to be seen in the new-born young of these animals.
For in such the viscera are more sanguineous, and of greater
bulk in proportion to the body, than at any later period of life, it
being in the earliest stage of formation that the nature of the
material and its abundance are most conspicuous. There is a
heart, then, in all sanguineous animals, and the reason for this
has already been given. For that sanguineous animals must
necessarily have blood is self-evident. And, as the blood is fluid,
it is also a matter of necessity that there shall be a receptacle
for it; and it is apparently to meet this requirement that nature
has devised the blood-vessels. These, again, must necessarily
have one primary source. For it is preferable that there shall be
one such, when possible, rather than several. This primary
source of the vessels is the heart. For the vessels manifestly
1873
the vessels from the heart, but none passes into the heart from
without. For in itself it constitutes the origin and fountain, or
primary receptacle, of the blood. It is however, from dissections
and from observations on the process of development that the
truth of these statements receives its clearest demonstration.
For the heart is the first of all the parts to be formed; and no
sooner is it formed than it contains blood. Moreover, the
motions of pain and pleasure, and generally of all sensation,
plainly have their source in the heart, and find in it their
ultimate termination. This, indeed, reason would lead us to
expect. For the source must, when. ever possible, be one; and, of
all places, the best suited for a source is the centre. For the
centre is one, and is equally or almost equally within reach of
every part. Again, as neither the blood itself, nor yet any part
which is bloodless, is endowed with sensation, it is plain that
that part which first has blood, and which holds it as it were in
a receptacle, must be the primary source of sensation. And that
this part is the heart is not only a rational inference, but also
evident to the senses. For no sooner is the embryo formed, than
its heart is seen in motion as though it were a living creature,
and this before any of the other parts, it being, as thus shown,
the starting-point of their nature in all animals that have blood.
A further evidence of the truth of what has been stated is the
fact that no sanguineous animal is without a heart. For the
primary source of blood must of necessity be present in them
all. It is true that sanguineous animals not only have a heart but
also invariably have a liver. But no one could ever deem the liver
to be the primary organ either of the whole body or of the blood.
For the position in which it is placed is far from being that of a
primary or dominating part; and, moreover, in the most
perfectly finished animals there is another part, the spleen,
which as it were counterbalances it. Still further, the liver
contains no spacious receptacle in its substance, as does the
heart; but its blood is in a vessel as in all the other viscera. The
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1877
1878
cavities and vessels are, the greater the amount of spirit they
contain, and the more potent its action. Thus it is that no
animal that has large cavities in its heart, or large blood-vessels,
is ever fat, the vessels being indistinct and the cavities small in
all or most fat animals.
The heart again is the only one of the viscera, and indeed the
only part of the body, that is unable to tolerate any serious
affection. This is but what might reasonably be expected. For, if
the primary or dominant part be diseased, there is nothing from
which the other parts which depend upon it can derive succour.
A proof that the heart is thus unable to tolerate any morbid
affection is furnished by the fact that in no sacrificial victim has
it ever been seen to be affected with those diseases that are
observable in the other viscera. For the kidneys are frequently
found to be full of stones, and growths, and small abscesses, as
also are the liver, the lung, and more than all the spleen. There
are also many other morbid conditions which are seen to occur
in these parts, those which are least liable to such being the
portion of the lung which is close to the windpipe, and the
portion of the liver which lies about the junction with the great
blood-vessel. This again admits of a rational explanation. For it
is in these parts that the lung and liver are most closely in
communion with the heart. On the other hand, when animals
die not by sacrifice but from disease, and from affections such
as are mentioned above, they are found on dissection to have
morbid affections of the heart.
Thus much of the heart, its nature, and the end and cause of its
existence in such animals as have it.
1879
5
In due sequence we have next to discuss the blood-vessels, that
is to say the great vessel and the aorta. For it is into these two
that the blood first passes when it quits the heart; and all the
other vessels are but offshoots from them. Now that these
vessels exist on account of the blood has already been stated.
For every fluid requires a receptacle, and in the case of the blood
the vessels are that receptacle. Let us now explain why these
vessels are two, and why they spring from one single source,
and extend throughout the whole body.
The reason, then, why these two vessels coalesce into one
centre, and spring from one source, is that the sensory soul is in
all animals actually one; and this one-ness of the sensory soul
determines a corresponding one-ness of the part in which it
primarily abides. In sanguineous animals this one-ness is not
only actual but potential, whereas in some bloodless animals it
is only actual. Where, however, the sensory soul is lodged, there
also and in the selfsame place must necessarily be the source of
heat; and, again, where this is there also must be the source of
the blood, seeing that it thence derives its warmth and fluidity.
Thus, then, in the oneness of the part in which is lodged the
prime source of sensation and of heat is involved the one-ness
of the source in which the blood originates; and this, again,
explains why the blood-vessels have one common startingpoint.
The vessels, again, are two, because the body of every
sanguineous animal that is capable of locomotion is bilateral;
for in all such animals there is a distinguishable before and
behind, a right and left, an above and below. Now as the front is
more honourable and of higher supremacy than the hinder
aspect, so also and in like degree is the great vessel superior to
the aorta. For the great vessel is placed in front, while the aorta
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1882
6
The lung, then, is an organ found in all the animals of a certain
class, because they live on land. For there must of necessity be
some means or other of tempering the heat of the body; and in
sanguineous animals, as they are of an especially hot nature,
the cooling agency must be external, whereas in the bloodless
kinds the innate spirit is sufficient of itself for the purpose. The
external cooling agent must be either air or water. In fishes the
1883
agent is water. Fishes therefore never have a lung, but have gills
in its place, as was stated in the treatise on Respiration. But
animals that breathe are cooled by air. These therefore are all
provided with a lung.
All land animals breathe, and even some water animals, such as
the whale, the dolphin, and all the spouting Cetacea. For many
animals lie half-way between terrestrial and aquatic; some that
are terrestrial and that inspire air being nevertheless of such a
bodily constitution that they abide for the most time in the
water; and some that are aquatic partaking so largely of the
land character, that respiration constitutes for them the man
condition of life.
The organ of respiration is the lung. This derives its motion
from the heart; but it is its own large size and spongy texture
that affords amplitude of space for entrance of the breath. For
when the lung rises up the breath streams in, and is again
expelled when the lung collapses. It has been said that the lung
exists as a provision to meet the jumping of the heart. But this
is out of the question. For man is practically the only animal
whose heart presents this phenomenon of jumping, inasmuch
as he alone is influenced by hope and anticipation of the future.
Moreover, in most animals the lung is separated from the heart
by a considerable interval and lies above it, so that it can
contribute nothing to mitigate any jumping.
The lung differs much in different animals. For in some it is of
large size and contains blood; while in others it is smaller and
of spongy texture. In the vivipara it is large and rich in blood,
because of their natural heat; while in the ovipara it is small
and dry but capable of expanding to a vast extent when
inflated. Among terrestrial animals, the oviparous quadrupeds,
such as lizards, tortoises, and the like, have this kind of lung;
and, among inhabitants of the air, the animals known as birds.
1884
For in all these the lung is spongy, and like foam. For it is
membranous and collapses from a large bulk to a small one, as
does foam when it runs together. In this too lies the explanation
of the fact that these animals are little liable to thirst and drink
but sparingly, and that they are able to remain for a
considerable time under water. For, inasmuch as they have but
little heat, the very motion of the lung, airlike and void, suffices
by itself to cool them for a considerable period.
These animals, speaking generally, are also distinguished from
others by their smaller bulk. For heat promotes growth, and
abundance of blood is a sure indication of heat. Heat, again,
tends to make the body erect; and thus it is that man is the
most erect of animals, and the vivipara more erect than other
quadrupeds. For no viviparous animal, be it apodous or be it
possessed of feet, is so given to creep into holes as are the
ovipara.
The lung, then, exists for respiration; and this is its universal
office; but in one order of animals it is bloodless and has the
structure described above, to suit the special requirements
There is, however, no one term to denote all animals that have a
lung; no designation, that is, like the term Bird, applicable to the
whole of a certain class. Yet the possession of a lung is a part of
their essence, just as much as the presence of certain characters
constitutes the essence of a bird.
7
Of the viscera some appear to be single, as the heart and lung;
others to be double, as the kidneys; while of a third kind it is
doubtful in which class they should be reckoned. For the liver
and the spleen would seem to lie half-way between the single
1885
1886
The reason, then, why the viscera are bilateral is, as we have
said, that there are two sides to the body, a right and a left. For
each of these sides aims at similarity with the other, and so
likewise do their several viscera; and as the sides, though dual,
are knit together into unity, so also do the viscera tend to be
bilateral and yet one by unity of constitution.
Those viscera which lie below the diaphragm exist one and all
on account of the blood-vessels; serving as a bond, by which
these vessels, while floating freely, are yet held in connexion
with the body. For the vessels give off branches which run to the
body through the outstretched structures, like so many
anchorlines thrown out from a ship. The great vessel sends such
branches to the liver and the spleen; and these viscera the
liver and spleen on either side with the kidneys behind attach
the great vessel to the body with the firmness of nails. The aorta
sends similar branches to each kidney, but none to the liver or
spleen.
These viscera, then, contribute in this manner to the
compactness of the animal body. The liver and spleen assist,
moreover, in the concoction of the food; for both are of a hot
character, owing to the blood which they contain. The kidneys,
on the other hand, take part in the separation of the excretion
which flows into the bladder.
The heart then and the liver are essential constituents of every
animal; the liver that it may effect concoction, the heart that it
may lodge the central source of heat. For some part or other
there must be which, like a hearth, shall hold the kindling fire;
and this part must be well protected, seeing that it is, as it were,
the citadel of the body.
All sanguineous animals, then, need these two parts; and this
explains why these two viscera, and these two alone, are
invariably found in them all. In such of them, however, as
1887
8
It is not every animal that has a bladder; those only being
apparently intended by nature to have one, whose lung contains
blood. To such it was but reasonable that she should give this
part. For the superabundance in their lung of its natural
constituents causes them to be the thirstiest of animals, and
makes them require a more than ordinary quantity not merely
of solid but also of liquid nutriment. This increased
consumption necessarily entails the production of an increased
amount of residue; which thus becomes too abundant to be
concocted by the stomach and excreted with its own residual
matter. The residual fluid must therefore of necessity have a
receptacle of its own; and thus it comes to pass that all animals
1889
9
What has been said of the bladder is equally true of the kidneys.
For these also are wanting in all animals that are clad with
feathers or with scales or with scale-like plates; the sea and
land tortoises forming the only exception. In some of the birds,
however, there are flattened kidney like bodies, as though the
1890
1891
(This by the way explains why the kidney is the most illsavoured of all the viscera.) From the central cavity the fluid is
discharged into the bladder by the ducts that have been
mentioned, having already assumed in great degree the
character of excremental residue. The bladder is as it were
moored to the kidneys; for, as already has been stated, it is
attached to them by strong ducts. These then are the purposes
for which the kidneys exist, and such the functions of these
organs.
In all animals that have kidneys, that on the right is placed
higher than that on the left. For inasmuch as motion
commences from the right, and the organs on this side are in
consequence stronger than those on the left, they must all push
upwards in advance of their opposite fellows; as may be seen in
the fact that men even raise the right eyebrow more than the
left, and that the former is more arched than the latter. The
right kidney being thus drawn upwards is in all animals brought
into contact with the liver; for the liver lies on the right side.
Of all the viscera the kidneys are those that have the most fat.
This is in the first place the result of necessity, because the
kidneys are the parts through which the residual matters
percolate. For the blood which is left behind after this excretion,
being of pure quality, is of easy concoction, and the final result
of thorough blood-concoction is lard and suet. For just as a
certain amount of fire is left in the ashes of solid substances
after combustion, so also does a remnant of the heat that has
been developed remain in fluids after concoction; and this is the
reason why oily matter is light, and floats on the surface of
other fluids. The fat is not formed in the kidneys themselves,
the density of their substance forbidding this, but is deposited
about their external surface. It consists of lard or of suet,
according as the animals fat is of the former or latter character.
The difference between these two kinds of fat has already been
1892
1893
10
We have now dealt with the heart and the lung, as also with the
liver, spleen, and kidneys. The latter are separated from the
former by the midriff or, as some call it, the Phrenes. This
divides off the heart and lung, and, as already said, is called
Phrenes in sanguineous animals, all of which have a midriff,
just as they all have a heart and a liver. For they require a
midriff to divide the region of the heart from the region of the
stomach, so that the centre wherein abides the sensory soul
may be undisturbed, and not be overwhelmed, directly food is
taken, by its up-steaming vapour and by the abundance of heat
then superinduced. For it was to guard against this that nature
made a division, constructing the midriff as a kind of partitionwall and fence, and so separated the nobler from the less noble
parts, in all cases where a separation of upper from lower is
possible. For the upper part is the more honourable, and is that
for the sake of which the rest exists; while the lower part exists
for the sake of the upper and constitutes the necessary element
in the body, inasmuch as it is the recipient of the food.
1894
That portion of the midriff which is near the ribs is fleshier and
stronger than the rest, but the central part has more of a
membranous character; for this structure conduces best to its
strength and its extensibility. Now that the midriff, which is a
kind of outgrowth from the sides of the thorax, acts as a screen
to prevent heat mounting up from below, is shown by what
happens, should it, owing to its proximity to the stomach,
attract thence the hot and residual fluid. For when this occurs
there ensues forthwith a marked disturbance of intellect and of
sensation. It is indeed because of this that the midriff is called
Phrenes, as though it had some share in the process of thinking
(Phronein). in reality, however, it has no part whatsoever itself in
the matter, but, lying in close proximity to organs that have, it
brings about the manifest changes of intelligence in question by
acting upon them. This too explains why its central part is thin.
For though this is in some measure the result of necessity,
inasmuch as those portions of the fleshy whole which lie
nearest to the ribs must necessarily be fleshier than the rest, yet
besides this there is a final cause, namely to give it as small a
proportion of humour as possible; for, had it been made of flesh
throughout, it would have been more likely to attract and hold a
large amount of this. That heating of it affects sensation rapidly
and in a notable manner is shown by the phenomena of
laughing. For when men are tickled they are quickly set alaughing, because the motion quickly reaches this part, and
heating it though but slightly nevertheless manifestly so
disturbs the mental action as to occasion movements that are
independent of the will. That man alone is affected by tickling is
due firstly to the delicacy of his skin, and secondly to his being
the only animal that laughs. For to be tickled is to be set in
laughter, the laughter being produced such a motion as
mentioned of the region of the armpit.
It is said also that when men in battle are wounded anywhere
near the midriff, they are seen to laugh, owing to the heat
1895
1896
11
The viscera are enclosed each in a membrane. For they require
some covering to protect them from injury, and require,
moreover, that this covering shall be light. To such requirements
membrane is well adapted; for it is close in texture so as to form
a good protection, destitute of flesh so as neither to attract
humour nor retain it, and thin so as to be light and not add to
the weight of the body. Of the membranes those are the stoutest
and strongest which invest the heart and the brain; as is but
consistent with reason. For these are the parts which require
most protection, seeing that they are the main governing
powers of life, and that it is to governing powers that guard is
due.
12
Some animals have all the viscera that have been enumerated;
others have only some of them. In what kind of animals this
latter is the case, and what is the explanation, has already been
stated. Moreover, the self-same viscera present differences in
different possessors. For the heart is not precisely alike in all
animals that have one; nor, in fact, is any viscus whatsoever.
Thus the liver is in some animals split into several parts, while
in others it is comparatively undivided. Such differences in its
form present themselves even among those sanguineous
1897
animals that are viviparous, but are more marked in fishes and
in the oviparous quadrupeds, and this whether we compare
them with each other or with the Vivipara. As for birds, their
liver very nearly resembles that of the Vivipara; for in them, as
in these, it is of a pure and blood-like colour. The reason of this
is that the body in both these classes of animals admits of the
freest exhalation, so that the amount of foul residual matter
within is but small. Hence it is that some of the Vivipara are
without any gall-bladder at all. For the liver takes a large share
in maintaining the purity of composition and the healthiness of
the body. For these are conditions that depend finally and in the
main upon the blood, and there is more blood in the liver than
in any of the other viscera, the heart only excepted. On the
other hand, the liver of oviparous quadrupeds and fishes
inclines, as a rule, to a yellow hue, and there are even some of
them in which it is entirely of this bad colour, in accordance
with the bad composition of their bodies generally. Such, for
instance, is the case in the toad, the tortoise, and other similar
animals.
The spleen, again, varies in different animals. For in those that
have horns and cloven hoofs, such as the goat, the sheep, and
the like, it is of a rounded form; excepting when increased size
has caused some part of it to extend its growth longitudinally,
as has happened in the case of the ox. On the other hand, it is
elongated in all polydactylous animals. Such, for instance, is the
case in the pig, in man, and in the dog. While in animals with
solid hoofs it is of a form intermediate to these two, being broad
in one part, narrow in another. Such, for example, is its shape in
the horse, the mule, and the ass.
1898
13
The viscera differ from the flesh not only in the turgid aspect of
their substance, but also in position; for they lie within the body,
whereas the flesh is placed on the outside. The explanation of
this is that these parts partake of the character of blood-vessels,
and that while the former exist for the sake of the vessels, the
latter cannot exist without them.
14
Below the midriff lies the stomach, placed at the end of the
oesophagus when there is one, and in immediate contiguity
with the mouth when the oesophagus is wanting. Continuous
with this stomach is what is called the gut. These parts are
present in all animals, for reasons that are self-evident. For it is
a matter of necessity that an animal shall receive the incoming
food; and necessary also that it shall discharge the same when
its goodness is exhausted. This residual matter, again, must not
occupy the same place as the yet unconcocted nutriment. For as
the ingress of food and the discharge of the residue occur at
distinct periods, so also must they necessarily occur in distinct
places. Thus there must be one receptacle for the ingoing food
and another for the useless residue, and between these,
therefore, a part in which the change from one condition to the
other may be effected. These, however, are matters which will
be more suitably set forth when we come to deal with
Generation and Nutrition. What we have at present to consider
are the variations presented by the stomach and its subsidiary
parts. For neither in size nor in shape are these parts uniformly
alike in all animals. Thus the stomach is single in all such
sanguineous and viviparous animals as have teeth in front of
1899
1900
1901
In fishes the teeth are all sharp; so that these animals can
divide their food, though imperfectly. For it is impossible for a
fish to linger or spend time in the act of mastication, and
therefore they have no teeth that are flat or suitable for
grinding; for such teeth would be to no purpose. The
oesophagus again in some fishes is entirely wanting, and in the
rest is but short. In order, however, to facilitate the concoction of
the food, some of them, as the Cestreus (mullet), have a fleshy
stomach resembling that of a bird; while most of them have
numerous processes close against the stomach, to serve as a
sort of antechamber in which the food may be stored up and
undergo putrefaction and concoction. There is contrast between
fishes and birds in the position of these processes. For in fishes
they are placed close to the stomach; while in birds, if present
at all, they are lower down, near the end of the gut. Some of the
Vivipara also have processes connected with the lower part of
the gut which serve the same purpose as that stated above.
The whole tribe of fishes is of gluttonous appetite, owing to the
arrangements for the reduction of their food being very
imperfect, and much of it consequently passing through them
without undergoing concoction; and, of all, those are the most
gluttonous that have a straight intestine. For as the passage of
food in such cases is rapid, and the enjoyment derived from it in
consequence but brief, it follows of necessity that the return of
appetite is also speedy.
It has already been mentioned that in animals with front teeth
in both jaws the stomach is of small size. It may be classed
pretty nearly always under one or other of two headings,
namely as resembling the stomach of the dog, or as resembling
the stomach of the pig. In the pig the stomach is larger than in
the dog, and presents certain folds of moderate size, the
purpose of which is to lengthen out the period of concoction;
1902
while the stomach of the dog is of small size, not much larger in
calibre than the gut, and smooth on the internal surface.
Not much larger, I say, than the gut; for in all animals after the
stomach comes the gut. This, like the stomach, presents
numerous modifications. For in some animals it is uniform,
when uncoiled, and alike throughout, while in others it differs
in different portions. Thus in some cases it is wider in the
neighbourhood of the stomach, and narrower towards the other
end; and this explains by the way why dogs have to strain so
much in discharging their excrement. But in most animals it is
the upper portion that is the narrower and the lower that is of
greater width.
Of greater length than in other animals, and much convoluted,
are the intestines of those that have horns. These intestines,
moreover, as also the stomach, are of ampler volume, in
accordance with the larger size of the body. For animals with
horns are, as a rule, animals of no small bulk, because of the
thorough elaboration which their food undergoes. The gut,
except in those animals where it is straight, invariably widens
out as we get farther from the stomach and come to what is
called the colon, and to a kind of caecal dilatation. After this it
again becomes narrower and convoluted. Then succeeds a
straight portion which runs right on to the vent. This vent is
known as the anus, and is in some animals surrounded by fat,
in others not so. All these parts have been so contrived by
nature as to harmonize with the various operations that relate
to the food and its residue. For, as the residual food gets farther
on and lower down, the space to contain it enlarges, allowing it
to remain stationary and undergo conversion. Thus is it in those
animals which, owing either to their large size, or to the heat of
the parts concerned, require more nutriment, and consume
more fodder than the rest.
1903
1904
15
What is known as rennet is found in all animals that have a
multiple stomach, and in the hare among animals whose
stomach is single. In the former the rennet neither occupies the
large paunch, nor the honeycomb bag, nor the terminal reed,
but is found in the cavity which separates this terminal one
from the two first, namely in the so-called manyplies. It is the
thick character of their milk which causes all these animals to
have rennet; whereas in animals with a single stomach the milk
is thin, and consequently no rennet is formed. It is this
difference in thickness which makes the milk of horned
animals coagulate, while that of animals without horns does
not. Rennet forms in the hare because it feeds on herbage that
has juice like that of the fig; for juice of this kind coagulates the
milk in the stomach of the sucklings. Why it is in the manyplies
that rennet is formed in animals with multiple stomachs has
been stated in the Problems.
1905
Book IV
1
The account which has now been given of the viscera, the
stomach, and the other several parts holds equally good not
only for the oviparous quadrupeds, but also for such apodous
animals as the Serpents. These two classes of animals are
indeed nearly akin, a serpent resembling a lizard which has
been lengthened out and deprived of its feet. Fishes, again,
resemble these two groups in all their parts, excepting that,
while these, being land animals, have a lung, fishes have no
lung, but gills in its place. None of these animals, excepting the
tortoise, as also no fish, has a urinary bladder. For owing to the
bloodlessness of their lung, they drink but sparingly; and such
fluid as they have is diverted to the scaly plates, as in birds it is
diverted to the feathers, and thus they come to have the same
white matter on the surface of their excrement as we see on
that of birds. For in animals that have a bladder, its excretion
when voided throws down a deposit of earthy brine in the
containing vessel. For the sweet and fresh elements, being light,
are expended on the flesh.
Among the Serpents, the same peculiarity attaches to vipers, as
among fishes attaches to Selachia. For both these and vipers are
externally viviparous, but previously produce ova internally.
The stomach in all these animals is single, just as it is single in
all other animals that have teeth in front of both jaws; and their
viscera are excessively small, as always happens when there is
no bladder. In serpents these viscera are, moreover, differently
shaped from those of other animals. For, a serpents body being
1906
2
Almost all sanguineous animals have a gall-bladder. In some
this is attached to the liver, in others separated from that organ
and attached to the intestines, being apparently in the latter
case no less than in the former an appendage of the lower
stomach. It is in fishes that this is most clearly seen. For all
fishes have a gall-bladder; and in most of them it is attached to
the intestine, being in some, as in the Amia, united with this,
like a border, along its whole length. It is similarly placed in
most serpents There are therefore no good grounds for the view
entertained by some writers, that the gall exists for the sake of
some sensory action. For they say that its use is to affect that
part of the soul which is lodged in the neighbourhood of the
liver, vexing this part when it is congealed, and restoring it to
cheerfulness when it again flows free. But this cannot be. For in
some animals there is absolutely no gall-bladder at all in the
horse, for instance, the mule, the ass, the deer, and the roe; and
in others, as the camel, there is no distinct bladder, but merely
small vessels of a biliary character. Again, there is no such organ
in the seal, nor, of purely sea-animals, in the dolphin. Even
within the limits of the same genus, some animals appear to
1907
have and others to be without it. Such, for instance, is the case
with mice; such also with man. For in some individuals there is
a distinct gall-bladder attached to the liver, while in others
there is no gall-bladder at all. This explains how the existence of
this part in the whole genus has been a matter of dispute. For
each observer, according as he has found it present or absent in
the individual cases he has examined, has supposed it to be
present or absent in the whole genus. The same has occurred in
the case of sheep and of goats. For these animals usually have a
gall-bladder; but, while in some localities it is so enormously big
as to appear a monstrosity, as is the case in Naxos, in others it is
altogether wanting, as is the case in a certain district belonging
to the inhabitants of Chalcis in Euboea. Moreover, the gallbladder in fishes is separated, as already mentioned, by a
considerable interval from the liver. No less mistaken seems to
be the opinion of Anaxagoras and his followers, that the gallbladder is the cause of acute diseases, inasmuch as it becomes
over-full, and spirts out its excess on to the lung, the bloodvessels, and the ribs. For, almost invariably, those who suffer
from these forms of disease are persons who have no gallbladder at all, as would be quite evident were they to be
dissected. Moreover, there is no kind of correspondence
between the amount of bile which is present in these diseases
and the amount which is exuded. The most probable opinion is
that, as the bile when it is present in any other part of the body
is a mere residuum or a product of decay, so also when it is
present in the region of the liver it is equally excremental and
has no further use; just as is the case with the dejections of the
stomach and intestines. For though even the residua are
occasionally used by nature for some useful purpose, yet we
must not in all cases expect to find such a final cause; for
granted the existence in the body of this or that constituent,
with such and such properties, many results must ensue merely
as necessary consequences of these properties. All animals,
1908
1909
3
So much then of the gall-bladder, and of the reasons why some
animals have one, while others have not. We have still to speak
of the mesentery and the omentum; for these are associated
with the parts already described and contained in the same
cavity. The omentum, then, is a membrane containing fat; the
fat being suet or lard, according as the fat of the animal
generally is of the former or latter description. What kinds of
animals are so distinguished has been already set forth in an
earlier part of this treatise. This membrane, alike in animals
that have a single and in those that have a multiple stomach,
grows from the middle of that organ, along a line which is
marked on it like a seam. Thus attached, it covers the rest of the
stomach and the greater part of the bowels, and this alike in all
sanguineous animals, whether they live on land or in water.
Now the development of this part into such a form as has been
described is the result of necessity. For, whenever solid and fluid
are mixed together and heated, the surface invariably becomes
membranous and skin-like. But the region in which the
omentum lies is full of nutriment of such a mixed character.
Moreover, in consequence of the close texture of the membrane,
that portion of the sanguineous nutriment will alone filter into
it which is of a greasy character; for this portion is composed of
the finest particles; and when it has so filtered in, it will be
concocted by the heat of the part, and will be converted into
suet or lard, and will not acquire a flesh-like or sanguineous
constitution. The development, then, of the omentum is simply
the result of necessity. But when once formed, it is used by
nature for an end, namely, to facilitate and to hasten the
concoction of food. For all that is hot aids concoction; and fat is
1910
hot, and the omentum is fat. This too explains why it hangs
from the middle of the stomach; for the upper part of the
stomach has no need of it, being assisted in concoction by the
adjacent liver. Thus much as concerns the omentum.
4
The so-called mesentery is also a membrane; and extends
continuously from the long stretch of intestine to the great
vessel and the aorta. In it are numerous and close-packed
vessels, which run from the intestines to the great vessel and to
the aorta. The formation of this membrane we shall find to be
the result of necessity, as is that of the other [similar] parts.
What, however, is the final cause of its existence in sanguineous
animals is manifest on reflection. For it is necessary that
animals shall get nutriment from without; and, again, that this
shall be converted into the ultimate nutriment, which is then
distributed as sustenance to the various parts; this ultimate
nutriment being, in sanguineous animals, what we call blood,
and having, in bloodless animals, no definite name. This being
so, there must be channels through which the nutriment shall
pass, as it were through roots, from the stomach into the bloodvessels. Now the roots of plants are in the ground; for thence
their nutriment is derived. But in animals the stomach and
intestines represent the ground from which the nutriment is to
be taken. The mesentery, then, is an organ to contain the roots;
and these roots are the vessels that traverse it. This then is the
final cause of its existence. But how it absorbs nutriment, and
how that portion of the food which enters into the vessels is
distributed by them to the various parts of the body, are
questions which will be considered when we come to deal with
the generation and nutrition of animals.
1911
5
Very different from the animals we have as yet considered are
the Cephalopoda and the Crustacea. For these have absolutely
no viscera whatsoever; as is indeed the case with all bloodless
animals, in which are included two other genera, namely the
Testacea and the Insects. For in none of them does the material
out of which viscera are formed exist. None of them, that is,
have blood. The cause of this lies in their essential constitution.
For the presence of blood in some animals, its absence from
others, must be included in the conception which determines
their respective essences. Moreover, in the animals we are now
considering, none of those final causes will be found to exist
which in sanguineous animals determine the presence of
viscera. For they have no blood vessels nor urinary bladder, nor
do they breathe; the only part that it is necessary for them to
have being that which is analogous to a heart. For in all animals
there must be some central and commanding part of the body,
to lodge the sensory portion of the soul and the source of life.
The organs of nutrition are also of necessity present in them all.
They differ, however, in character because of differences of the
habitats in which they get their subsistence.
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
the so-called ova are edible. Neither do these attain to any size
in any other species than that with which we are all familiar. A
similar distinction may be made generally in the case of all
Testacea. For there is a great difference in the edible qualities of
the flesh of different kinds; and in some, moreover, the residual
substance known as the mecon is good for food, while in others
it is uneatable. This mecon in the turbinated genera is lodged in
the spiral part of the shell, while in univalves, such as limpets, it
occupies the fundus, and in bivalves is placed near the hinge,
the so-called ovum lying on the right; while on the opposite side
is the vent. The former is incorrectly termed ovum, for it merely
corresponds to what in well-fed sanguineous animals is fat; and
thus it is that it makes its appearance in Testacea at those
seasons of the year when they are in good condition, namely,
spring and autumn. For no Testacea can abide extremes of
temperature, and they are therefore in evil plight in seasons of
great cold or heat. This is clearly shown by what occurs in the
case of the sea-urchins. For though the ova are to be found in
these animals even directly they are born, yet they acquire a
greater size than usual at the time of full moon; not, as some
think, because sea-urchins eat more at that season, but because
the nights are then warmer, owing to the moonlight. For these
creatures are bloodless, and so are unable to stand cold and
require warmth. Therefore it is that they are found in better
condition in summer than at any other season; and this all over
the world excepting in the Pyrrhean tidal strait. There the seaurchins flourish as well in winter as in summer. But the reason
for this is that they have a greater abundance of food in the
winter, because the fish desert the strait at that season.
The number of the ova is the same in all sea-urchins, and is an
odd one. For there are five ova, just as there are also five teeth
and five stomachs; and the explanation of this is to be found in
the fact that the so-called ova are not really ova, but merely, as
was said before, the result of the animals well-fed condition.
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one side to plants, on the other to animals. For seeing that some
of them can detach themselves and can fasten upon their food,
and that they are sensible of objects which come in contact
with them, they must be considered to have an animal nature.
The like conclusion follows from their using the asperity of
their bodies as a protection against their enemies. But, on the
other hand, they are closely allied to plants, firstly by the
imperfection of their structure, secondly by their being able to
attach themselves to the rocks, which they do with great
rapidity, and lastly by their having no visible residuum
notwithstanding that they possess a mouth.
Very similar again to the Acalephae are the Starfishes. For these
also fasten on their prey, and suck out its juices, and thus
destroy a vast number of oysters. At the same time they present
a certain resemblance to such of the animals we have described
as the Cephalopoda and Crustacea, inasmuch as they are free
and unattached. The same may also be said of the Testacea.
Such, then, is the structure of the parts that minister to
nutrition and which every animal must possess. But besides
these organs it is quite plain that in every animal there must be
some part or other which shall be analogous to what in
sanguineous animals is the presiding seat of sensation.
Whether an animal has or has not blood, it cannot possibly be
without this. In the Cephalopoda this part consists of a fluid
substance contained in a membrane, through which runs the
gullet on its way to the stomach. It is attached to the body
rather towards its dorsal surface, and by some is called the
mytis. Just such another organ is found also in the Crustacea
and there too is known by the same name. This part is at once
fluid and corporeal and, as before said, is traversed by the gullet.
For had the gullet been placed between the mytis and the dorsal
surface of the animal, the hardness of the back would have
interfered with its due dilatation in the act of deglutition. On
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the outer surface of the mytis runs the intestine; and in contact
with this latter is placed the ink-bag, so that it may be removed
as far as possible from the mouth and its obnoxious fluid be
kept at a distance from the nobler and sovereign part. The
position of the mytis shows that it corresponds to the heart of
sanguineous animals; for it occupies the self-same place. The
same is shown by the sweetness of its fluid, which has the
character of concocted matter and resembles blood.
In the Testacea the presiding seat of sensation is in a
corresponding position, but is less easily made out. It should,
however, always be looked for in some midway position;
namely, in such Testacea as are stationary, midway between the
part by which food is taken in and the channel through which
either the excrement or the spermatic fluid is voided, and, in
those species which are capable of locomotion, invariably
midway between the right and left sides.
In Insects this organ, which is the seat of sensation, lies, as was
stated in the first treatise, between the head and the cavity
which contains the stomach. In most of them it consists of a
single part; but in others, for instance in such as have long
bodies and resemble the Juli (Millipedes), it is made up of
several parts, so that such insects continue to live after they
have been cut in pieces. For the aim of nature is to give to each
animal only one such dominant part; and when she is unable to
carry out this intention she causes the parts, though potentially
many, to work together actually as one. This is much more
clearly marked in some insects than in others.
The parts concerned in nutrition are not alike in all insects, but
show considerable diversity. Thus some have what is called a
sting in the mouth, which is a kind of compound instrument
that combines in itself the character of a tongue and of lips. In
others that have no such instrument in front there is a part
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6
We will begin with Insects. These animals, though they present
no great multiplicity of parts, are not without diversities when
compared with each other. They are all manyfooted; the object
of this being to compensate their natural slowness and frigidity,
and give greater activity to their motions. Accordingly we find
that those which, as the (Millipedes), have long bodies, and are
therefore the most liable to refrigeration, have also the greatest
number of feet. Again, the body in these animals is insected
the reason for this being that they have not got one vital centre
but many and the number of their feet corresponds to that of
the insections.
Should the feet fall short of this, their deficiency is
compensated by the power of flight. Of such flying insects some
live a wandering life, and are forced to make long expeditions in
search of food. These have a body of light weight, and four
feathers, two on either side, to support it. Such are bees and the
insects akin to them. When, however, such insects are of very
small bulk, their feathers are reduced to two, as is the case with
flies. Insects with heavy bodies and of stationary habits, though
not polypterous in the same way as bees, yet have sheaths to
their feathers to maintain their efficiency. Such are the
Melolonthae and the like. For their stationary habits expose
their feathers to much greater risks than are run by those of
insects that are more constantly in flight, and on this account
they are provided with this protecting shield. The feather of an
insect has neither barbs nor shaft. For, though it is called a
feather, it is no feather at all, but merely a skin-like membrane
that, owing to its dryness, necessarily becomes detached from
the surface of the body, as the fleshy substance grows cold.
These animals then have their bodies insected, not only for the
reasons already assigned, but also to enable them to curl round
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sting is lodged inside the body, in bees, for example, and wasps.
For these insects are made for flight, and were their sting
external and of delicate make it would soon get spoiled; and if,
on the other hand, it were of thicker build, as in scorpions, its
weight would be an incumbrance. As for scorpions that live on
the ground and have a tail, their sting must be set upon this, as
otherwise it would be of no use as a weapon. Dipterous insects
never have a posterior sting. For the very reason of their being
dipterous is that they are small and weak, and therefore require
no more than two feathers to support their light weight; and the
same reason which reduces their feathers to two causes their
sting to be in front; for their strength is not sufficient to allow
them to strike efficiently with the hinder part of the body.
Polypterous insects, on the other hand, are of greater bulk
indeed it is this which causes them to have so many feathers;
and their greater size makes them stronger in their hinder
parts. The sting of such insects is therefore placed behind. Now
it is better, when possible, that one and the same instrument
shall not be made to serve several dissimilar uses; but that
there shall be one organ to serve as a weapon, which can then
be very sharp, and a distinct one to serve as a tongue, which can
then be of spongy texture and fit to absorb nutriment.
Whenever, therefore, nature is able to provide two separate
instruments for two separate uses, without the one hampering
the other, she does so, instead of acting like a coppersmith who
for cheapness makes a spit and lampholder in one. It is only
when this is impossible that she uses one organ for several
functions.
The anterior legs are in some cases longer than the others, that
they may serve to wipe away any foreign matter that may lodge
on the insects eyes and obstruct its sight, which already is not
very distinct owing to the eyes being made of a hard substance.
Flies and bees and the like may be constantly seen thus
dressing themselves with crossed forelegs. Of the other legs, the
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hinder are bigger than the middle pair, both to aid in running
and also that the insect, when it takes flight, may spring more
easily from the ground. This difference is still more marked in
such insects as leap, in locusts for instance, and in the various
kinds of fleas. For these first bend and then extend the legs,
and, by doing so, are necessarily shot up from the ground. It is
only the. hind legs of locusts, and not the front ones, that
resemble the steering oars of a ship. For this requires that the
joint shall be deflected inwards, and such is never the case with
the anterior limbs. The whole number of legs, including those
used in leaping, is six in all these insects.
7
In the Testacea the body consists of but few parts, the reason
being that these animals live a stationary life. For such animals
as move much about must of necessity have more numerous
parts than such as remain quiet; for their activities are many,
and the more diversified the movements the greater the
number of organs required to effect them. Some species of
Testacea are absolutely motionless, and others not quite but
nearly so. Nature, however, has provided them with a protection
in the hardness of the shell with which she has invested their
body. This shell, as already has been said, may have one valve,
or two valves, or be turbinate. In the latter case it may be either
spiral, as in whelks, or merely globular, as in sea-urchins. When
it has two valves, these may be gaping, as in scallops and
mussels, where the valves are united together on one side only,
so as to open and shut on the other; or they may be united
together on both sides, as in the Solens (razor-fishes). In all
cases alike the Testacea have, like plants, the head downwards.
The reason for this is, that they take in their nourishment from
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below, just as do plants with their roots. Thus the under parts
come in them to be above, and the upper parts to be below. The
body is enclosed in a membrane, and through this the animal
filters fluid free from salt and absorbs its nutriment. In all there
is a head; but none of the parts, excepting this recipient of food,
has any distinctive name.
8
All the Crustacea can crawl as well as swim, and accordingly
they are provided with numerous feet. There are four main
genera, viz. the Carabi, as they are called, the Astaci, the
Carides, and the Carcini. In each of these genera, again, there
are numerous species, which differ from each other not only as
regards shape, but also very considerably as regards size. For,
while in some species the individuals are large, in others they
are excessively minute. The Carcinoid and Caraboid Crustacea
resemble each other in possessing claws. These claws are not
for locomotion, but to serve in place of hands for seizing and
holding objects; and they are therefore bent in the opposite
direction to the feet, being so twisted as to turn their convexity
towards the body, while their feet turn towards it their
concavity. For in this position the claws are best suited for
laying hold of the food and carrying it to the mouth. The
distinction between the Carabi and the Carcini (Crabs) consists
in the former having a tail while the latter have none. For the
Carabi swim about and a tail is therefore of use to them, serving
for their propulsion like the blade of an oar. But it would be of
no use to the Crabs; for these animals live habitually close to
the shore, and creep into holes and corners. In such of them as
live out at sea, the feet are much less adapted for locomotion
than in the rest, because they are little given to moving about
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9
We come now to the Cephalopoda. Their internal organs have
already been described with those of other animals. Externally
there is the trunk of the body, not distinctly defined, and in
front of this the head surrounded by feet, which form a circle
about the mouth and teeth, and are set between these and the
eyes. Now in all other animals the feet, if there are any, are
disposed in one of two ways; either before and behind or along
the sides, the latter being the plan in such of them, for instance,
as are bloodless and have numerous feet. But in the
Cephalopoda there is a peculiar arrangement, different from
either of these. For their feet are all placed at what may be
called the fore end. The reason for this is that the hind part of
their body has been drawn up close to the fore part, as is also
the case in the turbinated Testacea. For the Testacea, while in
some points they resemble the Crustacea, in others resemble
the Cephalopoda. Their earthy matter is on the outside, and
their fleshy substance within. So far they are like the Crustacea.
But the general plan of their body is that of the Cephalopoda;
and, though this is true in a certain degree of all the Testacea, it
is more especially true of those turbinated species that have a
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10
We must now go back to the animals that have blood, and
consider such of their parts, already enumerated, as were before
passed over. We will take the viviparous animals first, and, we
have done with these, will pass on to the oviparous, and treat of
them in like manner.
The parts that border on the head, and on what is known as the
neck and throat, have already been taken into consideration. All
animals that have blood have a head; whereas in some
bloodless animals, such as crabs, the part which represents a
head is not clearly defined. As to the neck, it is present in all the
Vivipara, but only in some of the Ovipara; for while those that
have a lung also have a neck, those that do not inhale the outer
air have none. The head exists mainly for the sake of the brain.
For every animal that has blood must of necessity have a brain;
and must, moreover, for reasons already given, have it placed in
an opposite region to the heart. But the head has also been
chosen by nature as the part in which to set some of the senses;
because its blood is mixed in such suitable proportions as to
ensure their tranquillity and precision, while at the same time it
can supply the brain with such warmth as it requires. There is
yet a third constituent superadded to the head, namely the part
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and in all Vivipara without any exception at all, the same part
which serves for the evacuation of the fluid residue is also
made by nature to serve in sexual congress, and this alike in
male and female. For the semen is a kind of fluid and residual
matter. The proof of this will be given hereafter, but for the
present let it taken for granted. (The like holds good of the
menstrual fluid in women, and of the part where they emit
semen. This also, however, is a matter of which a more accurate
account will be given hereafter. For the present let it be simply
stated as a fact, that the catamenia of the female like the semen
of the male are residual matter. Both of them, moreover, being
fluid, it is only natural that the parts which serve for voidance
of the urine should give issue to residues which resemble it in
character.) Of the internal structure of these parts, and of the
differences which exist between the parts concerned with
semen and the parts concerned with conception, a clear
account is given in the book of Researches concerning Animals
and in the treatises on Anatomy. Moreover, I shall have to speak
of them again when I come to deal with Generation. As regards,
however, the external shape of these parts, it is plain enough
that they are adapted to their operations, as indeed of necessity
they must be. There are, however, differences in the male organ
corresponding to differences in the body generally. For all
animals are not of an equally sinewy nature. This organ, again,
is the only one that, independently of any morbid change,
admits of augmentation and of diminution of bulk. The former
condition is of service in copulation, while the other is required
for the advantage of the body at large. For, were the organ
constantly in the former condition, it would be an incumbrance.
The organ therefore has been formed of such constituents as
will admit of either state. For it is partly sinewy, partly
cartilaginous, and thus is enabled either to contract or to
become extended, and is capable of admitting air.
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11
We have now done with such sanguineous animals as live on
land and bring forth their young alive; and, having dealt with all
their main kinds, we may pass on to such sanguineous animals
as are oviparous. Of these some have four feet, while others
have none. The latter form a single genus, namely the Serpents;
and why these are apodous has been already explained in the
dissertation on Animal Progression. Irrespective of this absence
of feet, serpents resemble the oviparous quadrupeds in their
conformation.
In all these animals there is a head with its component parts;
its presence being determined by the same causes as obtain in
the case of other sanguineous animals; and in all, with the
single exception of the river crocodile, there is a tongue inside
the mouth. In this one exception there would seem to be no
actual tongue, but merely a space left vacant for it. The reason is
that a crocodile is in a way a land-animal and a water-animal
combined. In its character of land-animal it has a space for a
tongue; but in its character of water-animal it is without the
tongue itself. For in some fishes, as has already been
mentioned, there is no appearance whatsoever of a tongue,
unless the mouth be stretched open very widely indeed; while
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then, that both the prehension and the mastication of food are
offices of the mouth, and that the former of these two is the
more essential in an animal that has neither hands nor suitably
formed feet, these crocodiles will derive greater benefit from a
motion of the upper jaw downwards than from a motion of the
lower jaw upwards. The same considerations explain why crabs
also move the upper division of each claw and not the lower. For
their claws are substitutes for hands, and so require to be
suitable for the prehension of food, and not for its
comminution; for such comminution and biting is the office of
teeth. In crabs, then, and in such other animals as are able to
seize their food in a leisurely manner, inasmuch as their mouth
is not called on to perform its office while they are still in the
water, the two functions are assigned to different parts,
prehension to the hands or feet, biting and comminution of
food to the mouth. But in crocodiles the mouth has been so
framed by nature as to serve both purposes, the jaws being
made to move in the manner just described.
Another part present in these animals is a neck, this being the
necessary consequence of their having a lung. For the windpipe
by which the air is admitted to the lung is of some length. If,
however, the definition of a neck be correct, which calls it the
portion between the head and the shoulders, a serpent can
scarcely be said with the same right as the rest of these animals
to have a neck, but only to have something analogous to that
part of the body. It is a peculiarity of serpents, as compared with
other animals allied to them, that they are able to turn their
head backwards without stirring the rest of the body. The reason
of this is that a serpent, like an insect, has a body that admits of
being curled up, its vertebrae being cartilaginous and easily
bent. The faculty in question belongs then to serpents simply as
a necessary consequence of this character of their vertebrae;
but at the same time it has a final cause, for it enables them to
guard against attacks from behind. For their body, owing to its
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12
The differences of birds compared one with another are
differences of magnitude, and of the greater or smaller
development of parts. Thus some have long legs, others short
legs; some have a broad tongue, others a narrow tongue; and so
on with the other parts. There are few of their parts that differ
save in size, taking birds by themselves. But when birds are
compared with other animals the parts present differences of
form also. For in some animals these are hairy, in others scaly,
and in others have scale-like plates, while birds are feathered.
Birds, then, are feathered, and this is a character common to
them all and peculiar to them. Their feathers, too, are split and
distinct in kind from the undivided feathers of insects; for the
birds feather is barbed, these are not; the birds feather has a
shaft, these have none. A second strange peculiarity which
distinguishes birds from all other animals is their beak. For as in
elephants the nostril serves in place of hands, and as in some
insects the tongue serves in place of mouth, so in birds there is
a beak, which, being bony, serves in place of teeth and lips.
Their organs of sense have already been considered.
All birds have a neck extending from the body; and the purpose
of this neck is the same as in such other animals as have one.
This neck in some birds is long, in others short; its length, as a
general rule, being pretty nearly determined by that of the legs.
For long-legged birds have a long neck, short-legged birds a
short one, to which rule, however, the web-footed birds form an
exception. For to a bird perched up on long legs a short neck
would be of no use whatsoever in collecting food from the
ground; and equally useless would be a long neck, if the legs
were short. Such birds, again, as are carnivorous would find
length in this part interfere greatly with their habits of life. For a
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Some birds, again, are well adapted for flight, their wings being
large and strong. Such, for instance, are those that have talons
and live on flesh. For their mode of life renders the power of
flight a necessity, and it is on this account that their feathers
are so abundant and their wings so large. Besides these,
however, there are also other genera of birds that can fly well;
all those, namely, that depend on speed for security, or that are
of migratory habits. On the other hand, some kinds of birds
have heavy bodies and are not constructed for flight. These are
birds that are frugivorous and live on the ground, or that are
able to swim and get their living in watery places. In those that
have talons the body, without the wings, is small; for the
nutriment is consumed in the production of these wings, and of
the weapons and defensive appliances; whereas in birds that
are not made for flight the contrary obtains, and the body is
bulky and so of heavy weight. In some of these heavy-bodied
birds the legs are furnished with what are called spurs, which
replace the wings as a means of defence. Spurs and talons never
co-exist in the same bird. For nature never makes anything
superfluous; and if a bird can fly, and has talons, it has no use
for spurs; for these are weapons for fighting on the ground, and
on this account are an appanage of certain heavy-bodied birds.
These latter, again, would find the possession of talons not only
useless but actually injurious; for the claws would stick into the
ground and interfere with progression. This is the reason why
all birds with talons walk so badly, and why they never settle
upon rocks. For the character of their claws is ill-suited for
either action.
All this is the necessary consequence of the process of
development. For the earthy matter in the body issuing from it
is converted into parts that are useful as weapons. That which
flows upwards gives hardness or size to the beak; and, should
any flow downwards, it either forms spurs upon the legs or
gives size and strength to the claws upon the feet. But it does
1956
not at one and the same time produce both these results, one in
the legs, the other in the claws; for such a dispersion of this
residual matter would destroy all its efficiency. In other birds
this earthy residue furnishes the legs with the material for their
elongation; or sometimes, in place of this, fills up the
interspaces between the toes. Thus it is simply a matter of
necessity, that such birds as swim shall either be actually webfooted, or shall have a kind of broad blade-like margin running
along the whole length of each distinct toe. The forms, then, of
these feet are simply the necessary results of the causes that
have been mentioned. Yet at the same time they are intended
for the animals advantage. For they are in harmony with the
mode of life of these birds, who, living on the water, where their
wings are useless, require that their feet shall be such as to
serve in swimming. For these feet are so developed as to
resemble the oars of a boat, or the fins of a fish; and the
destruction of the foot-web has the same effect as the
destruction of the fins; that is to say, it puts an end to all power
of swimming.
In some birds the legs are very long, the cause of this being that
they inhabit marshes. I say the cause, because nature makes the
organs for the function, and not the function for the organs. It
is, then, because these birds are not meant for swimming that
their feet are without webs, and it is because they live on
ground that gives way under the foot that their legs and toes are
elongated, and that these latter in most of them have an extra
number of joints. Again, though all birds have the same material
composition, they are not all made for flight; and in these,
therefore, the nutriment that should go to their tail-feathers is
spent on the legs and used to increase their size. This is the
reason why these birds when they fly make use of their legs as a
tail, stretching them out behind, and so rendering them
serviceable, whereas in any other position they would be simply
an impediment.
1957
In other birds, where the legs are short, these are held close
against the belly during flight. In some cases this is merely to
keep the feet out of the way, but in birds that have talons the
position has a further purpose, being the one best suited for
rapine. Birds that have a long and a thick neck keep it stretched
out during flight; but those whose neck though long is slender
fly with it coiled up. For in this position it is protected, and less
likely to get broken, should the bird fly against any obstacle.
In all birds there is an ischium, but so placed and of such length
that it would scarcely be taken for an ischium, but rather for a
second thigh-bone; for it extends as far as to the middle of the
belly. The reason for this is that the bird is a biped, and yet is
unable to stand erect. For if its ischium extended but a short
way from the fundament, and then immediately came the leg,
as is the case in man and in quadrupeds, the bird would be
unable to stand up at all. For while man stands erect, and while
quadrupeds have their heavy bodies propped up in front by the
forelegs, birds can neither stand erect owing to their dwarf-like
shape, nor have anterior legs to prop them up, these legs being
replaced by wings. As a remedy for this Nature has given them a
long ischium, and brought it to the centre of the body, fixing it
firmly; and she has placed the legs under this central point, that
the weight on either side may be equally balanced, and
standing or progression rendered possible. Such then is the
reason why a bird, though it is a biped, does not stand erect.
Why its legs are destitute of flesh has also already been stated;
for the reasons are the same as in the case of quadrupeds.
In all birds alike, whether web-footed or not, the number of toes
in each foot is four. For the Libyan ostrich may be disregarded
for the present, and its cloven hoof and other discrepancies of
structure as compared with the tribe of birds will be considered
further on. Of these four toes three are in front, while the fourth
points backward, serving, as a heel, to give steadiness. In the
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13
Thus then are fashioned the parts of birds. But in fishes a still
further stunting has occurred in the external parts. For here, for
reasons already given, there are neither legs nor hands nor
wings, the whole body from head to tail presenting one
unbroken surface. This tail differs in different fishes, in some
approximating in character to the fins, while in others, namely
in some of the flat kinds, it is spinous and elongated, because
the material which should have gone to the tail has been
diverted thence and used to increase the breadth of the body.
Such, for instance, is the case with the Torpedos, the Trygons,
and whatever other Selachia there may be of like nature. In
such fishes, then, the tail is spinous and long; while in some
others it is short and fleshy, for the same reason which makes it
spinous and long in the Torpedo. For to be short and fleshy
comes to the same thing as to be long and less amply furnished
with flesh.
What has occurred in the Fishing-frog is the reverse of what has
occurred in the other instances just given. For here the anterior
and broad part of the body is not of a fleshy character, and so all
1959
the fleshy substance which has been thence diverted has been
placed by nature in the tail and hinder portion of the body.
In fishes there are no limbs attached to the body. For in
accordance with their essential constitution they are swimming
animals; and nature never makes anything superfluous or void
of use. Now inasmuch as fishes are made swimming they have
fins, and as they are not made for walking they are without feet;
for feet are attached to the body that they may be of use in
progression on land. Moreover, fishes cannot have feet, or any
other similar limbs, as well as four fins; for they are essentially
sanguineous animals. The Cordylus, though it has gills, has feet,
for it has no fins but merely has its tail flattened out and loose
in texture.
Fishes, unless, like the Batos and the Trygon, they are broad and
flat, have four fins, two on the upper and two on the under side
of the body; and no fish ever has more than these. For, if it had,
it would be a bloodless animal.
The upper pair of fins is present in nearly all fishes, but not so
the under pair; for these are wanting in some of those fishes
that have long thick bodies, such as the eel, the conger, and a
certain kind of Cestreus that is found in the lake at Siphae.
When the body is still more elongated, and resembles that of a
serpent rather than that of a fish, as is the case in the
Smuraena, there are absolutely no fins at all; and locomotion is
effected by the flexures of the body, the water being put to the
same use by these fishes as is the ground by serpents. For
serpents swim in water exactly in the same way as they glide on
the ground. The reason for these serpent-like fishes being
without fins is the same as that which causes serpents to be
without feet; and what this is has been already stated in the
dissertations on the Progression and the Motion of Animals. The
reason was this. If the points of motion were four, motion would
1960
1961
The head, with its several parts, as also the organs of sense,
have already come under consideration.
There is one peculiarity which distinguishes fishes from all
other sanguineous animals, namely, the possession of gills. Why
they have these organs has been set forth in the treatise on
Respiration. These gills are in most fishes covered by opercula,
but in the Selachia, owing to the skeleton being cartilaginous,
there are no such coverings. For an operculum requires fishspine for its formation, and in other fishes the skeleton is made
of this substance, whereas in the Selachia it is invariably formed
of cartilage. Again, while the motions of spinous fishes are
rapid, those of the Selachia are sluggish, inasmuch as they have
neither fish-spine nor sinew; but an operculum requires
rapidity of motion, seeing that the office of the gills is to
minister as it were to expiration. For this reason in Selachia the
branchial orifices themselves effect their own closure, and thus
there is no need for an operculum to ensure its taking place
with due rapidity. In some fishes the gills are numerous, in
others few in number; in some again they are double, in others
single. The last gill in most cases is single. For a detailed
account of all this, reference must be made to the treatises on
Anatomy, and to the book of Researches concerning Animals.
It is the abundance or the deficiency of the cardiac heat which
determines the numerical abundance or deficiency of the gills.
For, the greater an animals heat, the more rapid and the more
forcible does it require the branchial movement to be; and
numerous and double gills act with more force and rapidity
than such as are few and single. Thus, too, it is that some fishes
that have but few gills, and those of comparatively small
efficacy, can live out of water for a considerable time; for in
them there is no great demand for refrigeration. Such, for
example, are the eel and all other fishes of serpent-like form.
1962
1963
the serpents. One and the same orifice serves both for the
excrement and for the generative secretions, as is the case also
in all other oviparous animals, whether two-footed or fourfooted, inasmuch as they have no urinary bladder and form no
fluid excretion.
Such then are the characters which distinguish fishes from all
other animals. But dolphins and whales and all such Cetacea
are without gills; and, having a lung, are provided with a blowhole; for this serves them to discharge the sea-water which has
been taken into the mouth. For, feeding as they do in the water,
they cannot but let this fluid enter into their mouth, and, having
let it in, they must of necessity let it out again. The use of gills,
however, as has been explained in the treatise on Respiration, is
limited to such animals as do not breathe; for no animal can
possibly possess gills and at the same time be a respiratory
animal. In order, therefore, that these Cetacea may discharge
the water, they are provided with a blow-hole. This is placed in
front of the brain; for otherwise it would have cut off the brain
from the spine. The reason for these animals having a lung and
breathing, is that animals of large size require an excess of heat,
to facilitate their motion. A lung, therefore, is placed within
their body, and is fully supplied with blood-heat. These
creatures are after a fashion land and water animals in one. For
so far as they are inhalers of air they resemble land-animals,
while they resemble water-animals in having no feet and in
deriving their food from the sea. So also seals lie halfway
between land and water animals, and bats half-way between
animals that live on the ground and animals that fly; and so
belong to both kinds or to neither. For seals, if looked on as
water-animals, are yet found to have feet; and, if looked on as
land-animals, are yet found to have fins. For their hind feet are
exactly like the fins of fishes; and their teeth also are sharp and
interfitting as in fishes. Bats again, if regarded as winged
animals, have feet; and, if regarded as quadrupeds, are without
1964
them. So also they have neither the tail of a quadruped nor the
tail of a bird; no quadrupeds tail, because they are winted
animals; no birds tail, because they are terrestrial. This absence
of tail is the result of necessity. For bats fly by means of a
membrane, but no animal, unless it has barbed feathers, has the
tail of a bird; for a birds tail is composed of such feathers. As for
a quadrupeds tail, it would be an actual impediment, if present
among the feathers.
14
Much the same may be said also of the Libyan ostrich. For it has
some of the characters of a bird, some of the characters of a
quadruped. It differs from a quadruped in being feathered; and
from a bird in being unable to soar aloft and in having feathers
that resemble hair and are useless for flight. Again, it agrees
with quadrupeds in having upper eyelashes, which are the more
richly supplied with hairs because the parts about the head and
the upper portion of the neck are bare; and it agrees with birds
in being feathered in all the parts posterior to these. Further, it
resembles a bird in being a biped, and a quadruped in having a
cloven hoof; for it has hoofs and not toes. The explanation of
these peculiarities is to be found in its bulk, which is that of a
quadruped rather than that of a bird. For, speaking generally, a
bird must necessarily be of very small size. For a body of heavy
bulk can with difficulty be raised into the air.
Thus much then as regards the parts of animals. We have
discussed them all, and set forth the cause why each exists; and
in so doing we have severally considered each group of animals.
We must now pass on, and in due sequence must next deal
with the question of their generation.
1965
1
Elsewhere we have investigated in detail the movement of
animals after their various kinds, the differences between them,
and the reasons for their particular characters (for some
animals fly, some swim, some walk, others move in various
other ways); there remains an investigation of the common
ground of any sort of animal movement whatsoever.
Now we have already determined (when we were discussing
whether eternal motion exists or not, and its definition, if it
does exist) that the origin of all other motions is that which
moves itself, and that the origin of this is the immovable, and
that the prime mover must of necessity be immovable. And we
must grasp this not only generally in theory, but also by
reference to individuals in the world of sense, for with these in
view we seek general theories, and with these we believe that
general theories ought to harmonize. Now in the world of sense
too it is plainly impossible for movement to be initiated if there
is nothing at rest, and before all else in our present subject
animal life. For if one of the parts of an animal be moved,
another must be at rest, and this is the purpose of their joints;
animals use joints like a centre, and the whole member, in
which the joint is, becomes both one and two, both straight and
bent, changing potentially and actually by reason of the joint.
And when it is bending and being moved one of the points in
the joint is moved and one is at rest, just as if the points A and
D of a diameter were at rest, and B were moved, and DAC were
1966
2
But the point of rest in the animal is still quite ineffectual
unless there be something without which is absolutely at rest
and immovable. Now it is worth while to pause and consider
what has been said, for it involves a speculation which extends
beyond animals even to the motion and march of the universe.
For just as there must be something immovable within the
animal, if it is to be moved, so even more must there be without
it something immovable, by supporting itself upon which that
which is moved moves. For were that something always to give
way (as it does for mice walking in grain or persons walking in
sand) advance would be impossible, and neither would there be
any walking unless the ground were to remain still, nor any
flying or swimming were not the air and the sea to resist. And
this which resists must needs be different from what is moved,
the whole of it from the whole of that, and what is thus
1967
3
Here we may ask the difficult question whether if something
moves the whole heavens this mover must be immovable, and
moreover be no part of the heavens, nor in the heavens. For
either it is moved itself and moves the heavens, in which case it
must touch something immovable in order to create movement,
and then this is no part of that which creates movement; or if
the mover is from the first immovable it will equally be no part
of that which is moved. In this point at least they argue
1968
4
There is a further difficulty about the motions of the parts of
the heavens which, as akin to what has gone before, may be
considered next. For if one could overcome by force of motion
the immobility of the earth he would clearly move it away from
the centre. And it is plain that the power from which this force
would originate will not be infinite, for the earth is not infinite
and therefore its weight is not. Now there are more senses than
one of the word impossible. When we say it is impossible to
see a sound, and when we say it is impossible to see the men in
the moon, we use two senses of the word; the former is of
necessity, the latter, though their nature is to be seen, cannot as
a fact be seen by us. Now we suppose that the heavens are of
necessity impossible to destroy and to dissolve, whereas the
result of the present argument would be to do away with this
necessity. For it is natural and possible for a motion to exist
greater than the force by dint of which the earth is at rest, or
than that by dint of which Fire and Aether are moved. If then
there are superior motions, these will be dissolved in succession
by one another: and if there actually are not, but might possibly
be (for the earth cannot be infinite because no body can
possibly be infinite), there is a possibility of the heavens being
dissolved. For what is to prevent this coming to pass, unless it
1970
1971
And out of these we have spoken about animals (for they must
all have in themselves that which is at rest, and without them
that against which they are supported); but whether there is
some higher and prime mover is not clear, and an origin of that
kind involves a different discussion. Animals at any rate which
move themselves are all moved supporting themselves on what
is outside them, even when they inspire and expire; for there is
no essential difference between casting a great and a small
weight, and this is what men do when they spit and cough and
when they breathe in and breathe out.
5
But is it only in that which moves itself in place that there must
be a point at rest, or does this hold also of that which causes its
own qualitative changes, and its own growth? Now the question
of original generation and decay is different; for if there is, as
we hold, a primary movement, this would be the cause of
generation and decay, and probably of all the secondary
movements too. And as in the universe, so in the animal world
this is the primary movement, when the creature attains
maturity; and therefore it is the cause of growth, when the
creature becomes the cause of its own growth, and the cause
too of alteration. But if this is not the primary movement then
the point at rest is not necessary. However, the earliest growth
and alteration in the living creature arise through another and
by other channels, nor can anything possibly be the cause of its
own generation and decay, for the mover must exist before the
moved, the begetter before the begotten, and nothing is prior to
itself.
1972
6
Now whether the soul is moved or not, and how it is moved if it
be moved, has been stated before in our treatise concerning it.
And since all inorganic things are moved by some other thing
and the manner of the movement of the first and eternally
moved, and how the first mover moves it, has been determined
before in our Metaphysics, it remains to inquire how the soul
moves the body, and what is the origin of movement in a living
creature. For, if we except the movement of the universe, things
with life are the causes of the movement of all else, that is of all
that are not moved by one another by mutual impact. And so all
their motions have a term or limit, inasmuch as the movements
of things with life have such. For all living things both move and
are moved with some object, so that this is the term of all their
movement, the end, that is, in view. Now we see that the living
creature is moved by intellect, imagination, purpose, wish, and
appetite. And all these are reducible to mind and desire. For
both imagination and sensation are on common ground with
mind, since all three are faculties of judgement though differing
according to distinctions stated elsewhere. Will, however,
impulse, and appetite, are all three forms of desire, while
purpose belongs both to intellect and to desire. Therefore the
object of desire or of intellect first initiates movement, not, that
is, every object of intellect, only the end in the domain of
conduct. Accordingly among goods that which moves is a
practical end, not the good in its whole extent. For it initiates
movement only so far as something else is for its sake, or so far
as it is the object of that which is for the sake of something else.
And we must suppose that a seeming good may take the room
of actual good, and so may the pleasant, which is itself a
seeming good. From these considerations it is clear that in one
regard that which is eternally moved by the eternal mover is
1973
7
But how is it that thought (viz. sense, imagination, and thought
proper) is sometimes followed by action, sometimes not;
sometimes by movement, sometimes not? What happens
seems parallel to the case of thinking and inferring about the
immovable objects of science. There the end is the truth seen
(for, when one conceives the two premisses, one at once
conceives and comprehends the conclusion), but here the two
premisses result in a conclusion which is an action for
example, one conceives that every man ought to walk, one is a
man oneself: straightway one walks; or that, in this case, no
man should walk, one is a man: straightway one remains at
rest. And one so acts in the two cases provided that there is
nothing in the one case to compel or in the other to prevent.
Again, I ought to create a good, a house is good: straightway I
make a house. I need a covering, a coat is a covering: I need a
1974
1975
8
But to return, the object we pursue or avoid in the field of action
is, as has been explained, the original of movement, and upon
the conception and imagination of this there necessarily follows
a change in the temperature of the body. For what is painful we
avoid, what is pleasing we pursue. We are, however,
1976
1978
9
Now since the left and the right sides are symmetrical, and
these opposites are moved simultaneously, it cannot be that the
left is moved by the right remaining stationary, nor vice versa;
the original must always be in what lies above both. Therefore,
the original seat of the moving soul must be in that which lies
in the middle, for of both extremes the middle is the limiting
point; and this is similarly related to the movements from
above [and below,] those that is from the head, and to the bones
which spring from the spinal column, in creatures that have a
spinal column.
And this is a reasonable arrangement. For the sensorium is in
our opinion in the centre too; and so, if the region of the original
of movement is altered in structure through sense-perception
and thus changes, it carries with it the parts that depend upon
it and they too are extended or contracted, and in this way the
movement of the creature necessarily follows. And the middle
of the body must needs be in potency one but in action more
than one; for the limbs are moved simultaneously from the
original seat of movement, and when one is at rest the other is
moved. For example, in the line BAC, B is moved, and A is the
mover. There must, however, be a point at rest if one is to move,
the other to be moved. A (AE) then being one in potency must be
two in action, and so be a definite spatial magnitude not a
mathematical point. Again, C may be moved simultaneously
with B. Both the originals then in A must move and be, and so
there must be something other than them which moves but is
not moved. For otherwise, when the movement begins, the
extremes, i.e. the originals, in A would rest upon one another,
like two men putting themselves back to back and so moving
their legs. There must then be some one thing which moves
both. This something is the soul, distinct from the spatial
magnitude just described and yet located therein.
1979
10
Although from the point of view of the definition of movement
a definition which gives the cause desire is the middle term
or cause, and desire moves being moved, still in the material
animated body there must be some material which itself moves
being moved. Now that which is moved, but whose nature is not
to initiate movement, is capable of being passive to an external
force, while that which initiates movement must needs possess
a kind of force and power. Now experience shows us that
animals do both possess connatural spirit and derive power
from this. (How this connatural spirit is maintained in the body
is explained in other passages of our works.) And this spirit
appears to stand to the soul-centre or original in a relation
analogous to that between the point in a joint which moves
being moved and the unmoved. Now since this centre is for
some animals in the heart, in the rest in a part analogous with
the heart, we further see the reason for the connatural spirit
being situate where it actually is found. The question whether
the spirit remains always the same or constantly changes and is
renewed, like the cognate question about the rest of the parts of
the body, is better postponed. At all events we see that it is well
disposed to excite movement and to exert power; and the
functions of movement are thrusting and pulling. Accordingly,
the organ of movement must be capable of expanding and
contracting; and this is precisely the characteristic of spirit. It
contracts and expands naturally, and so is able to pull and to
thrust from one and the same cause, exhibiting gravity
compared with the fiery element, and levity by comparison with
the opposites of fire. Now that which is to initiate movement
without change of structure must be of the kind described, for
1980
11
So much then for the voluntary movements of animal bodies,
and the reasons for them. These bodies, however, display in
certain members involuntary movements too, but most often
non-voluntary movements. By involuntary I mean motions of
the heart and of the privy member; for often upon an image
arising and without express mandate of the reason these parts
are moved. By non-voluntary I mean sleep and waking and
respiration, and other similar organic movements. For neither
imagination nor desire is properly mistress of any of these; but
since the animal body must undergo natural changes of quality,
and when the parts are so altered some must increase and
1981
1982
1983
1
We have now to consider the parts which are useful to animals
for movement in place (locomotion); first, why each part is such
as it is and to what end they possess them; and second, the
differences between these parts both in one and the same
creature, and again by comparison of the parts of creatures of
different species with one another. First then let us lay down
how many questions we have to consider.
The first is what are the fewest points of motion necessary to
animal progression, the second why sanguineous animals have
four points and not more, but bloodless animals more than four,
and generally why some animals are footless, others bipeds,
others quadrupeds, others polypods, and why all have an even
number of feet, if they have feet at all; why in fine the points on
which progression depends are even in number.
Next, why are man and bird bipeds, but fish footless; and why
do man and bird, though both bipeds, have an opposite
curvature of the legs. For man bends his legs convexly, a bird
has his bent concavely; again, man bends his arms and legs in
opposite directions, for he has his arms bent convexly, but his
legs concavely. And a viviparous quadruped bends his limbs in
opposite directions to a mans, and in opposite directions to one
another; for he has his forelegs bent convexly, his hind legs
concavely. Again, quadrupeds which are not viviparous but
oviparous have a peculiar curvature of the limbs laterally away
1984
from the body. Again, why do quadrupeds move their legs crisscross?
We have to examine the reasons for all these facts, and others
cognate to them; that the facts are such is clear from our
Natural History, we have now to ask reasons for the facts.
2
At the beginning of the inquiry we must postulate the principles
we are accustomed constantly to use for our scientific
investigation of nature, that is we must take for granted
principles of this universal character which appear in all
Natures work. Of these one is that Nature creates nothing
without a purpose, but always the best possible in each kind of
living creature by reference to its essential constitution.
Accordingly if one way is better than another that is the way of
Nature. Next we must take for granted the different species of
dimensions which inhere in various things; of these there are
three pairs of two each, superior and inferior, before and behind,
to the right and to the left. Further we must assume that the
originals of movements in place are thrusts and pulls. (These
are the essential place-movements, it is only accidentally that
what is carried by another is moved; it is not thought to move
itself, but to be moved by something else.)
3
After these preliminaries, we go on to the next questions in
order.
1985
4
Again, the boundaries by which living beings are naturally
determined are six in number, superior and inferior, before and
behind, right and left. Of these all living beings have a superior
and an inferior part; for superior and inferior is in plants too,
not only in animals. And this distinction is one of function, not
1986
merely of position relatively to our earth and the sky above our
heads. The superior is that from which flows in each kind the
distribution of nutriment and the process of growth; the inferior
is that to which the process flows and in which it ends. One is a
starting-point, the other an end, and the starting-point is the
superior. And yet it might be thought that in the case of plants
at least the inferior is rather the appropriate starting-point, for
in them the superior and inferior are in position other than in
animals. Still they are similarly situated from the point of view
of function, though not in their position relatively to the
universe. The roots are the superior part of a plant, for from
them the nutriment is distributed to the growing members, and
a plant takes it with its roots as an animal does with its mouth.
Things that are not only alive but are animals have both a front
and a back, because they all have sense, and front and back are
distinguished by reference to sense. The front is the part in
which sense is innate, and whence each thing gets its
sensations, the opposite parts are the back.
All animals which partake not only in sense, but are able of
themselves to make a change of place, have a further
distinction of left and right besides those already enumerated;
like the former these are distinctions of function and not of
position. The right is that from which change of position
naturally begins, the opposite which naturally depends upon
this is the left.
This distinction (of right and left) is more articulate and detailed
in some than in others. For animals which make the aforesaid
change (of place) by the help of organized parts (I mean feet for
example, or wings or similar organs) have the left and right
distinguished in greater detail, while those which are not
differentiated into such parts, but make the differentiation in
the body itself and so progress, like some footless animals (for
1987
1988
5
Animals which, like men and birds, have the superior part
distinguished from the front are two-footed (biped). In them, of
the four points of motion, two are wings in the one, hands and
arms in the other. Animals which have the superior and the
front parts identically situated are four-footed, many-footed, or
footless (quadruped, polypod, limbless). I use the term foot for a
member employed for movement in place connected with a
point on the ground, for the feet appear to have got their name
from the ground under our feet.
Some animals, too, have the front and back parts identically
situated, for example, Cephalopods (molluscs) and spiralshaped Testaceans, and these we have discussed elsewhere in
another connexion.
Now there is in place a superior, an intermediate, and an
inferior; in respect to place bipeds have their superior part
corresponding to the part of the universe; quadrupeds,
polypods, and footless animals to the intermediate part, and
plants to the inferior. The reason is that these have no power of
locomotion, and the superior part is determined relatively to the
nutriment, and their nutriment is from the earth. Quadrupeds,
polypods, and footless animals again have their superior part
corresponding to the intermediate, because they are not erect.
Bipeds have theirs corresponding to the superior part of the
universe because they are erect, and of bipeds, man par
excellence; for man is the most natural of bipeds. And it is
reasonable for the starting points to be in these parts; for the
1989
6
The above discussion has made it clear that the original of
movement is in the parts on the right. Now every continuous
whole, one part of which is moved while the other remains at
rest must, in order to be able to move as a whole while one part
stands still, have in the place where both parts have opposed
movements some common part which connects the moving
parts with one another. Further in this common part the
original of the motion (and similarly of the absence of motion)
of each of the parts must lie.
Clearly then if any of the opposite pairs of parts (right and left,
that is, superior and inferior, before and behind) have a
movement of their own, each of them has for common original
of its movements the juncture of the parts in question.
Now before and behind are not distinctions relatively to that
which sets up its own motion, because in nature nothing has a
movement backwards, nor has a moving animal any division
whereby it may make a change of position towards its front or
back; but right and left, superior and inferior are so
distinguished. Accordingly, all animals which progress by the
use of distinct members have these members distinguished not
by the differences of before and behind, but only of the
remaining two pairs; the prior difference dividing these
members into right and left (a difference which must appear as
1990
soon as you have division into two), and the other difference
appearing of necessity where there is division into four.
Since then these two pairs, the superior and inferior and the
right and left, are linked to one another by the same common
original (by which I mean that which controls their movement),
and further, everything which is intended to make a movement
in each such part properly must have the original cause of all
the said movements arranged in a certain definite position
relatively to the distances from it of the originals of the
movements of the individual members (and these centres of the
individual parts are in pairs arranged coordinately or diagonally,
and the common centre is the original from which the animals
movements of right and left, and similarly of superior and
inferior, start); each animal must have this original at a point
where it is equally or nearly equally related to each of the
centres in the four parts described.
7
It is clear then how locomotion belongs to those animals only
which make their changes of place by means of two or four
points in their structure, or to such animals par excellence.
Moreover, since this property belongs almost peculiarly to
Sanguineous animals, we see that no Sanguineous animal can
progress at more points than four, and that if it is the nature of
anything so to progress at four points it must of necessity be
Sanguineous.
What we observe in the animal world is in agreement with the
above account. For no Sanguineous animal if it be divided into
more parts can live for any appreciable length of time, nor can it
enjoy the power of locomotion which it possessed while it was a
1991
8
The reason why snakes are limbless is first that nature makes
nothing without purpose, but always regards what is the best
possible for each individual, preserving the peculiar essence of
each and its intended character, and secondly the principle we
laid down above that no Sanguineous creature can move itself
at more than four points. Granting this it is evident that
Sanguineous animals like snakes, whose length is out of
proportion to the rest of their dimensions, cannot possibly have
limbs; for they cannot have more than four (or they would be
bloodless), and if they had two or four they would be practically
stationary; so slow and unprofitable would their movement
necessarily be.
But every limbed animal has necessarily an even number of
such limbs. For those which only jump and so move from place
to place do not need limbs for this movement at least, but those
1993
which not only jump but also need to walk, finding that
movement not sufficient for their purposes, evidently either are
better able to progress with even limbs or cannot otherwise
progress at all every animal which has limbs must have an even
us for as this kind of movement is effected by part of the body
at a time, and not by the whole at once as in the movement of
leaping, some of the limbs must in turn remain at rest, and
others be moved, and the animal must act in each of these
cases with opposite limbs, shifting the weight from the limbs
that are being moved to those at rest. And so nothing can walk
on three limbs or on one; in the latter case it has no support at
all on which to rest the bodys weight, in the former only in
respect of one pair of opposites, and so it must necessarily fall
in endeavouring so to move.
Polypods however, like the Centipede, can indeed make progress
on an odd number of limbs, as may be seen by the experiment
of wounding one of their limbs; for then the mutilation of one
row of limbs is corrected by the number of limbs which remain
on either side. Such mutilated creatures, however, drag the
wounded limb after them with the remainder, and do not
properly speaking walk. Moreover, it is plain that they, too,
would make the change of place better if they had an even
number, in fact if none were missing and they had the limbs
which correspond to one another. In this way they could
equalize their own weight, and not oscillate to one side, if they
had corresponding supports instead of one section of the
opposite sides being unoccupied by a limb. A walking creature
advances from each of its members alternately, for in this way it
recovers the same figure that it had at first.
1994
9
The fact that all animals have an even number of feet, and the
reasons for the fact have been set forth. What follows will
explain that if there were no point at rest flexion and
straightening would be impossible. Flexion is a change from a
right line to an arc or an angle, straightening a change from
either of these to a right line. Now in all such changes the
flexion or the straightening must be relative to one point.
Moreover, without flexion there could not be walking or
swimming or flying. For since limbed creatures stand and take
their weight alternately on one or other of the opposite legs, if
one be thrust forward the other of necessity must be bent. For
the opposite limbs are naturally of equal length, and the one
which is under the weight must be a kind of perpendicular at
right angles to the ground.
When then one leg is advanced it becomes the hypotenuse of a
right-angled triangle. Its square then is equal to the square on
the other side together with the square on the base. As the legs
then are equal, the one at rest must bend either at the knee or,
if there were any kneeless animal which walked, at some other
articulation. The following experiment exhibits the fact. If a
man were to walk parallel to a wall in sunshine, the line
described (by the shadow of his head> would be not straight but
zigzag, becoming lower as he bends, and higher when he stands
and lifts himself up.
It is, indeed, possible to move oneself even if the leg be not bent,
in the way in which children crawl. This was the old though
erroneous account of the movement of elephants. But these
kinds of movements involve a flexion in the shoulders or in the
hips. Nothing at any rate could walk upright continuously and
securely without flexions at the knee, but would have to move
like men in the wrestling schools who crawl forward through
1995
the sand on their knees. For the upper part of the upright
creature is long so that its leg has to be correspondingly long; in
consequence there must be flexion. For since a stationary
position is perpendicular, if that which moves cannot bend it
will either fall forward as the right angle becomes acute or will
not be able to progress. For if one leg is at right angles to the
ground and the other is advanced, the latter will be at once
equal and greater. For it will be equal to the stationary leg and
also equivalent to the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle.
That which goes forward therefore must bend, and while
bending one, extend the other leg simultaneously, so as to
incline forward and make a stride and still remain above the
perpendicular; for the legs form an isosceles triangle, and the
head sinks lower when it is perpendicularly above the base on
which it stands.
Of limbless animals, some progress by undulations (and this
happens in two ways, either they undulate on the ground, like
snakes, or up and down, like caterpillars), and undulation is a
flexion; others by a telescopic action, like what are called
earthworms and leeches. These go forward, first one part
leading and then drawing the whole of the rest of the body up
to this, and so they change from place to place. It is plain too
that if the two curves were not greater than the one line which
subtends them undulating animals could not move themselves;
when the flexure is extended they would not have moved
forward at all if the flexure or arc were equal to the chord
subtended; as it is, it reaches further when it is straightened
out, and then this part stays still and it draws up what is left
behind.
In all the changes described that which moves now extends
itself in a straight line to progress, and now is hooped; it
straightens itself in its leading part, and is hooped in what
follows behind. Even jumping animals all make a flexion in the
1996
10
A difficulty might perhaps be raised about birds. How, it may be
said, can they, either when they fly or when they walk, be said
to move at four points? Now we did not say that all Sanguinea
move at four points, but merely at not more than four.
Moreover, they cannot as a fact fly if their legs be removed, nor
walk without their wings. Even a man does not walk without
moving his shoulders. Everything indeed, as we have said,
makes a change of place by flexion and straightening, for all
things progress by pressing upon what being beneath them up
to a point gives way as it were gradually; accordingly, even if
there be no flexion in another member, there must be at least in
the point whence motion begins, is in feathered (flying) insects
at the base of the scale-wing, in birds at the base of the wing,
in others at the base of the corresponding member, the fins, for
instance, in fish. In others, for example snakes, the flexion
begins in the joints of the body.
1997
1998
11
So much then for these questions. But why an animal that is to
stand erect must necessarily be not only a biped, but must also
have the superior parts of the body lighter, and those that lie
under these heavier, is plain. Only if situated like this could it
possibly carry itself easily. And so man, the only erect animal,
has legs longer and stouter relatively to the upper parts of his
body than any other animal with legs. What we observe in
children also is evidence of this. Children cannot walk erect
because they are always dwarf-like, the upper parts of their
bodies being longer and stouter than the lower. With advancing
years the lower increase disproportionately, until the children
get their appropriate size, and then and not till then they
succeed in walking erect. Birds are hunchbacked yet stand on
two legs because their weight is set back, after the principle of
horses fashioned in bronze with their forelegs prancing. But
their being bipeds and able to stand is above all due to their
having the hip-bone shaped like a thigh, and so large that it
looks as if they had two thighs, one in the leg before the kneejoint, the other joining his part to the fundament. Really this is
not a thigh but a hip, and if it were not so large the bird could
not be a biped. As in a man or a quadruped, the thigh and the
rest of the leg would be attached immediately to quite a small
hip; consequently the whole body would be tilted forward. As it
is, however, the hip is long and extends right along to the
middle of the belly, so that the legs are attached at that point
and carry as supports the whole frame. It is also evident from
these considerations that a bird cannot possibly be erect in the
sense in which man is. For as it holds its body now the wings
are naturally useful to it, but if it were erect they would be as
1999
12
We have stated above that without flexion in the legs or
shoulders and hips no Sanguineous animal with feet could
progress, and that flexion is impossible except some point be at
rest, and that men and birds, both bipeds, bend their legs in
opposite directions, and further that quadrupeds bend their in
opposite directions, and each pair in the opposite way to a
mans limbs. For men bend their arms backwards, their legs
forwards; quadrupeds their forelegs forwards, their back legs
backwards, and in like manner also birds bend theirs. The
reason is that Natures workmanship is never purposeless, as
we said above, but everything for the best possible in the
circumstances. Inasmuch, therefore, as all creatures which
naturally have the power of changing position by the use of
limbs, must have one leg stationary with the weight of the body
on it, and when they move forward the leg which has the
leading position must be unencumbered, and the progression
continuing the weight must shift and be taken off on this
leading leg, it is evidently necessary for the back leg from being
bent to become straight again, while the point of movement of
the leg thrust forward and its lower part remain still. And so the
legs must be jointed. And it is possible for this to take place and
at the same time for the animal to go forward, if the leading leg
2000
bend thus when they are suckling their young, with a view to
such ministrations. If the flexion were inwards it would be
difficult to keep their young under them and to shelter them.
13
Now there are four modes of flexion if we take the
combinations in pairs. Fore and hind may bend either both
backwards, as the figures marked A, or in the opposite way both
forwards, as in B, or in converse ways and not in the same
direction, as in C where the fore bend forwards and the hind
bend backwards, or as in D, the opposite way to C, where the
convexities are turned towards one another and the concavities
outwards. Now no biped or quadruped bends his limbs like the
figures A or B, but the quadrupeds like C, and like D only the
elephant among quadrupeds and man if you consider his arms
as well as his legs. For he bends his arms concavely and his legs
convexly.
In man, too, the flexions of the limbs are always alternately
opposite, for example the elbow bends back, but the wrist of the
hand forwards, and again the shoulder forwards. In like fashion,
too, in the case of the legs, the hip backwards, the knee
forwards, the ankle in the opposite way backwards. And plainly
the lower limbs are opposed in this respect to the upper,
because the first joints are opposites, the shoulder bending
forwards, the hip backwards; wherefore also the ankle bends
backwards, and the wrist of the hand forwards.
2002
14
This is the way then the limbs bend, and for the reasons given.
But the hind limbs move criss-cross with the fore limbs; after
the off fore they move the near hind, then the near fore, and
then the off hind. The reason is that (a) if they moved the
forelegs together and first, the animal would be wrenched, and
the progression would be a stumbling forwards with the hind
parts as it were dragged after. Again, that would not be walking
but jumping, and it is hard to make a continuous change of
place, jumping all the time. Here is evidence of what I say; even
as it is, all horses that move in this way soon begin to refuse, for
example the horses in a religious procession. For these reasons
the fore limbs and the hind limbs move in this separate way.
Again, (b) if they moved both the right legs first the weight
would be outside the supporting limbs and they would fall. If
then it is necessary to move in one or other of these ways or
criss-cross fashion, and neither of these two is satisfactory, they
must move criss-cross; for moving in the way we have said they
cannot possibly experience either of these untoward results.
And this is why horses and such-like animals stand still with
their legs put forward criss-cross, not with the right or the left
put forward together at once. In the same fashion animals with
more than four legs make their movements; if you take two
consecutive pairs of legs the hind move criss-cross with the
forelegs; you can see this if you watch them moving slowly.
Even crabs move in this way, and they are polypods. They, too,
always move criss-cross in whichever direction they are making
progress. For in direction this animal has a movement all its
own; it is the only animal that moves not forwards, but
obliquely. Yet since forwards is a distinction relative to the line
of vision, Nature has made its eyes able to conform to its limbs,
for its eyes can move themselves obliquely, and therefore after a
fashion crabs are no exception but in this sense move forwards.
2003
15
Birds bend their legs in the same way as quadrupeds. For their
natural construction is broadly speaking nearly the same. That
is, in birds the wings are a substitute for the forelegs; and so
they are bent in the same way as the forelegs of a quadruped,
since when they move to progress the natural beginning of
change is from the wings (as in quadrupeds from the forelegs).
Flight in fact is their appropriate movement. And so if the wings
be cut off a bird can neither stand still nor go forwards.
Again, the bird though a biped is not erect, and has the forward
parts of the body lighter than the hind, and so it is necessary (or
at least preferable for the standing posture) to have the thigh so
placed below the body as it actually is, I mean growing towards
the back. If then it must have this situation the flexion of the leg
must be backwards, as in the hind legs of quadrupeds. The
reasons are the same as those given in the case of viviparous
quadrupeds.
If now we survey generally birds and winged insects, and
animals which swim in a watery medium, all I mean that make
their progress in water by dint of organs of movement, it is not
difficult to see that it is better to have the attachment of the
parts in question oblique to the frame, exactly as in fact we see
it to be both in birds and insects. And this same arrangement
obtains also among fishes. Among birds the wings are attached
obliquely; so are the fins in water animals, and the feather-like
wings of insects. In this way they divide the air or water most
quickly and with most force and so effect their movement. For
the hinder parts in this way would follow forwards as they are
2004
16
We have already stated the fact that non-sanguineous animals
with limbs are polypods and none of them quadrupeds. And the
reason why their legs, except the extreme pairs, were
necessarily attached obliquely and had their flexions upwards,
and the legs themselves were somewhat turned under (bandyshape) and backwards is plain. In all such creatures the
intermediate legs both lead and follow. If then they lay under
them, they must have had their flexion both forwards and
backwards; on account of leading, forwards; and on account of
following, backwards. Now since they have to do both, for this
reason their limbs are turned under and bent obliquely, except
the two extreme pairs. (These two are more natural in their
movement, the front leading and the back following.) Another
reason for this kind of flexion is the number of their legs;
arranged in this way they would interfere less with one another
in progression and not knock together. But the reason that they
2005
are bandy is that all of them or most of them live in holes, for
creatures living so cannot possibly be high above the ground.
But crabs are in nature the oddest of all polypods; they do not
progress forwards except in the sense explained above, they are
the only animals which have more than one pair of leading
limbs. The explanation of this is the hardness of their limbs,
and the fact that they use them not for swimming but for
walking; they always keep on the ground. However, the flexion
of the limbs of all polypods is oblique, like that of the
quadrupeds which live in holes for example lizards and
crocodiles and most of the oviparous quadrupeds. And the
explanation is that some of them in their breeding periods, and
some all their life, live in holes.
17
Now the rest have bandy legs because they are soft-skinned, but
the crayfish is hard-skinned and its limbs are for swimming and
not for walking (and so are not bandy). Crabs, too, have their
limbs bent obliquely, but not bandy like oviparous quadrupeds
and non-sanguineous polypods, because their limbs have a hard
and shell-like skin, although they dont swim but live in holes;
they live in fact on the ground. Moreover, their shape is like a
disk, as compared with the crayfish which is elongated, and
they havent a tail like the crayfish; a tail is useful to the
crayfish for swimming, but the crab is not a swimming creature.
Further, it alone has its side equivalent to a hinder part, because
it has many leading feet. The explanation of this is that its
flexions are not forward nor its legs turned in under (bandy). We
have given above the reason why its legs are not turned in
2006
18
There is reason, too, for winged creatures having feet, but fish
none. The former have their home in the dry medium, and
cannot remain always in mid air; they must therefore have feet.
Fish on the contrary live in the wet medium, and take in water,
not air. Fins are useful for swimming, but feet not. And if they
had both they would be non-sanguineous. There is a broad
similarity between birds and fishes in the organs of locomotion.
Birds have their wings on the superior part, similarly fish have
2007
two pectoral fins; again, birds have legs on their under parts and
near the wings; similarly, most fish have two fins on the under
parts and near the pectorals. Birds, too, have a tail and fish a
tail-fin.
19
A difficulty may be suggested as to the movements of molluscs,
that is, as to where that movement originates; for they have no
distinction of left and right. Now observation shows them
moving. We must, I think, treat all this class as mutilated, and
as moving in the way in which limbed creatures do when one
cuts off their legs, or as analogous with the seal and the bat.
Both the latter are quadrupeds but misshapen. Now molluscs
do move, but move in a manner contrary to nature. They are not
moving things, but are moving if as sedentary creatures they are
compared with zoophytes, and sedentary if classed with
progressing animals.
As to right and left, crabs, too, show the distinction poorly, still
they do show it. You can see it in the claw; the right claw is
larger and stronger, as though the right and left sides were
trying to get distinguished.
The structure of animals, both in their other parts, and
especially in those which concern progression and any
movement in place, is as we have now described. It remains,
after determining these questions, to investigate the problems
of Life and Death.
2008
Book I
1
We have now discussed the other parts of animals, both
generally and with reference to the peculiarities of each kind,
explaining how each part exists on account of such a cause, and
I mean by this the final cause.
There are four causes underlying everything: first, the final
cause, that for the sake of which a thing exists; secondly, the
formal cause, the definition of its essence (and these two we
may regard pretty much as one and the same); thirdly, the
material; and fourthly, the moving principle or efficient cause.
We have then already discussed the other three causes, for the
definition and the final cause are the same, and the material of
animals is their parts of the whole animal the nonhomogeneous parts, of these again the homogeneous, and of
these last the so-called elements of all matter. It remains to
speak of those parts which contribute to the generation of
animals and of which nothing definite has yet been said, and to
explain what is the moving or efficient cause. To inquire into
this last and to inquire into the generation of each animal is in
a way the same thing; and, therefore, my plan has united them
together, arranging the discussion of these parts last, and the
beginning of the question of generation next to them.
2009
Now some animals come into being from the union of male and
female, i.e. all those kinds of animal which possess the two
sexes. This is not the case with all of them; though in the
sanguinea with few exceptions the creature, when its growth is
complete, is either male or female, and though some bloodless
animals have sexes so that they generate offspring of the same
kind, yet other bloodless animals generate indeed, but not
offspring of the same kind; such are all that come into being not
from a union of the sexes, but from decaying earth and
excrements. To speak generally, if we take all animals which
change their locality, some by swimming, others by flying,
others by walking, we find in these the two sexes, not only in
the sanguinea but also in some of the bloodless animals; and
this applies in the case of the latter sometimes to the whole
class, as the cephalopoda and crustacea, but in the class of
insects only to the majority. Of these, all which are produced by
union of animals of the same kind generate also after their
kind, but all which are not produced by animals, but from
decaying matter, generate indeed, but produce another kind,
and the offspring is neither male nor female; such are some of
the insects. This is what might have been expected, for if those
animals which are not produced by parents had themselves
united and produced others, then their offspring must have
been either like or unlike to themselves. If like, then their
parents ought to have come into being in the same way; this is
only a reasonable postulate to make, for it is plainly the case
with other animals. If unlike, and yet able to copulate, then
there would have come into being again from them another
kind of creature and again another from these, and this would
have gone on to infinity. But Nature flies from the infinite, for
the infinite is unending or imperfect, and Nature ever seeks an
end.
But all those creatures which do not move, as the testacea and
animals that live by clinging to something else, inasmuch as
2010
2
Of the generation of animals we must speak as various
questions arise in order in the case of each, and we must
connect our account with what has been said. For, as we said
above, the male and female principles may be put down first
and foremost as origins of generation, the former as containing
the efficient cause of generation, the latter the material of it.
The most conclusive proof of this is drawn from considering
how and whence comes the semen; for there is no doubt that it
is out of this that those creatures are formed which are
produced in the ordinary course of Nature; but we must observe
carefully the way in which this semen actually comes into being
from the male and female. For it is just because the semen is
secreted from the two sexes, the secretion taking place in them
and from them, that they are first principles of generation. For
2011
2012
3
The sanguinea are not all alike as regards testes and uterus.
Taking the former first, we find that some of them have not
testes at all, as the classes of fish and of serpents, but only two
spermatic ducts. Others have testes indeed, but internally by
the loin in the region of the kidneys, and from each of these a
duct, as in the case of those animals which have no testes at all,
these ducts unite also as with those animals; this applies
(among animals breathing air and having a lung) to all birds and
oviparous quadrupeds. For all these have their testes internal
near the loin, and two ducts from these in the same way as
serpents; I mean the lizards and tortoises and all the scaly
reptiles. But all the vivipara have their testes in front; some of
them inside at the end of the abdomen, as the dolphin, not with
ducts but with a penis projecting externally from them; others
outside, either pendent as in man or towards the fundament as
in swine. They have been discriminated more accurately in the
Enquiries about Animals.
The uterus is always double, just as the testes are always two in
the male. It is situated either near the pudendum (as in women,
and all those animals which bring forth alive not only externally
but also internally, and all fish that lay eggs externally) or up
2013
4
With regard to the difference of the spermatic organs in males,
if we are to investigate the causes of their existence, we must
first grasp the final cause of the testes. Now if Nature makes
everything either because it is necessary or because it is better
so, this part also must be for one of these two reasons. But that
it is not necessary for generation is plain; else had it been
possessed by all creatures that generate, but as it is neither
serpents have testes nor have fish; for they have been seen
uniting and with their ducts full of milt. It remains then that it
must be because it is somehow better so. Now it is true that the
business of most animals is, you may say, nothing else than to
produce young, as the business of a plant is to produce seed and
fruit. But still as, in the case of nutriment, animals with straight
intestines are more violent in their desire for food, so those
which have not testes but only ducts, or which have them
indeed but internally, are all quicker in accomplishing
copulation. But those which are to be more temperate in the
one case have not straight intestines, and in the other have
their ducts twisted to prevent their desire being too violent and
2014
hasty. It is for this that the testes are contrived; for they make
the movement of the spermatic secretion steadier, preserving
the folding back of the passages in the vivipara, as horses and
the like, and in man. (For details see the Enquiries about
Animals.) For the testes are no part of the ducts but are only
attached to them, as women fasten stones to the loom when
weaving; if they are removed the ducts are drawn up internally,
so that castrated animals are unable to generate; if they were
not drawn up they would be able, and before now a bull
mounting immediately after castration has caused conception
in the cow because the ducts had not yet been drawn up. In
birds and oviparous quadrupeds the testes receive the
spermatic secretion, so that its expulsion is slower than in
fishes. This is clear in the case of birds, for their testes are much
enlarged at the time of copulation, and all those which pair at
one season of the year have them so small when this is past
that they are almost indiscernible, but during the season they
are very large. When the testes are internal the act of copulation
is quicker than when they are external, for even in the latter
case the semen is not emitted before the testes are drawn up.
5
Besides, quadrupeds have the organ of copulation, since it is
possible for them to have it, but for birds and the footless
animals it is not possible, because the former have their legs
under the middle of the abdomen and the latter have no legs at
all; now the penis depends from that region and is situated
there. (Wherefore also the legs are strained in intercourse, both
the penis and the legs being sinewy.) So that, since it is not
possible for them to have this organ, they must necessarily
either have no testes also, or at any rate not have them there, as
2015
those animals that have both penis and testes have them in the
same situation.
Further, with those animals at any rate that have external
testes, the semen is collected together before emission, and
emission is due to the penis being heated by its movement; it is
not ready for emission at immediate contact as in fishes.
All the vivipira have their testes in front, internally or externally,
except the hedgehog; he alone has them near the loin. This is
for the same reason as with birds, because their union must be
quick, for the hedgehog does not, like the other quadrupeds,
mount upon the back of the female, but they conjugate standing
upright because of their spines.
So much for the reasons why those animals have testes which
have them, and why they are sometimes external and
sometimes internal.
6
All those animals which have no testes are deficient in this part,
as has been said, not because it is better to be so but simply
because of necessity, and secondly because it is necessary that
their copulation should be speedy. Such is the nature of fish and
serpents. Fish copulate throwing themselves alongside of the
females and separating again quickly. For as men and all such
creatures must hold their breath before emitting the semen, so
fish at such times must cease taking in the sea-water, and then
they perish easily. Therefore they must not mature the semen
during copulation, as viviparous land-animals do, but they have
it all matured together before the time, so as not to be maturing
it while in contact but to emit it ready matured. So they have no
2016
testes, and the ducts are straight and simple. There is a small
part similar to this connected with the testes in the system of
quadrupeds, for part of the reflected duct is sanguineous and
part is not; the fluid is already semen when it is received by and
passes through this latter part, so that once it has arrived there
it is soon emitted in these quadrupeds also. Now in fishes the
whole passage resembles the last section of the reflected part of
the duct in man and similar animals.
7
Serpents copulate twining round one another, and, as said
above, have neither testes nor penis, the latter because they
have no legs, the former because of their length, but they have
ducts like for on account of their extreme length the seminal
fluid would take too long in its passage and be cooled if it were
further delayed by testes. (This happens also if the penis is
large; such men are less fertile than when it is smaller because
the semen, if cold, is not generative, and that which is carried
too far is cooled.) So much for the reason why some animals
have testes and others not. Serpents intertwine because of their
inaptitude to cast themselves alongside of one another. For they
are too long to unite closely with so small a part and have no
organs of attachment, so they make use of the suppleness of
their bodies, intertwining. Wherefore also they seem to be
slower in copulation than fish, not only on account of the
length of the ducts but also of this elaborate arrangement in
uniting.
2017
8
It is not easy to state the facts about the uterus in female
animals, for there are many points of difference. The vivipara
are not alike in this part; women and all the vivipara with feet
have the uterus low down by the pudendum, but the
cartilaginous viviparous fish have it higher up near the
hypozoma. In the ovipara, again, it is low in fish (as in women
and the viviparous quadrupeds), high in birds and all oviparous
quadrupeds. Yet even these differences are on a principle. To
begin with the ovipara, they differ in the manner of laying their
eggs, for some produce them imperfect, as fishes whose eggs
increase and are finally developed outside of them. The reason
is that they produce many young, and this is their function as it
is with plants. If then they perfected the egg in themselves they
must needs be few in number, but as it is, they have so many
that each uterus seems to be an egg, at any rate in the small
fishes. For these are the most productive, just as with the other
animals and plants whose nature is analogous to theirs, for the
increase of size turns with them to seed.
But the eggs of birds and the quadrupedal ovipara are perfect
when produced. In order that these may be preserved they must
have a hard covering (for their envelope is soft so long as they
are increasing in size), and the shell is made by heat squeezing
out the moisture for the earthy material; consequently the place
must be hot in which this is to happen. But the part about the
hypozoma is hot, as is shown by that being the part which
concocts the food. If then the eggs must be within the uterus,
then the uterus must be near the hypozoma in those creatures
which produce their eggs in a perfect form. Similarly it must be
low down in those which produce them imperfect, for it is
profitable that it should be so. And it is more natural for the
uterus to be low down than high up, when Nature has no other
business in hand to hinder it; for its end is low down, and where
2018
9
We find differences in the vivipara also as compared with one
another. Some produce their young alive, not only externally,
but also internally, as men, horses, dogs, and all those which
have hair, and among aquatic animals, dolphins, whales, and
such cetacea.
10
But the cartilaginous fish and the vipers produce their young
alive externally, but first produce eggs internally. The egg is
perfect, for so only can an animal be generated from an egg, and
nothing comes from an imperfect one. It is because they are of a
cold nature, not hot as some assert, that they do not lay their
eggs externally.
11
At least they certainly produce their eggs in a soft envelope, the
reason being that they have but little heat and so their nature
does not complete the process of drying the egg-shell. Because,
then, they are cold they produce soft-shelled eggs, and because
2019
the eggs are soft they do not produce them externally; for that
would have caused their destruction.
The process is for the most part the same as in birds, for the egg
descends and the young is hatched from it near the vagina,
where the young is produced in those animals which are
viviparous from the beginning. Therefore in such animals the
uterus is dissimilar to that of both the vivipara and ovipara,
because they participate in both classes; for it is at once near
the hypozoma and also stretching along downwards in all the
cartilaginous fishes. But the facts about this and the other kinds
of uterus must be gathered from inspection of the drawings of
dissections and from the Enquiries. Thus, because they are
oviparous, laying perfect eggs, they have the uterus placed high,
but, as being viviparous, low, participating in both classes.
Animals that are viviparous from the beginning all have it low,
Nature here having no other business to interfere with her, and
their production having no double character. Besides this, it is
impossible for animals to be produced alive near the hypozoma,
for the foetus must needs be heavy and move, and that region
in the mother is vital and would not be able to bear the weight
and the movement. Thirdly, parturition would be difficult
because of the length of the passage to be traversed; even as it
is there is difficulty with women if they draw up the uterus in
parturition by yawning or anything of the kind, and even when
empty it causes a feeling of suffocation if moved upwards. For if
a uterus is to hold a living animal it must be stronger than in
ovipara, and therefore in all the vivipara it is fleshy, whereas
when the uterus is near the hypozoma it is membranous. And
this is clear also in the case of the animals which produce
young by the mixed method, for their eggs are high up and
sideways, but the living young are produced in the lower part of
the uterus.
2020
So much for the reason why differences are found in the uterus
of various animals, and generally why it is low in some and high
in others near the hypozoma.
12
Why is the uterus always internal, but the testes sometimes
internal, sometimes external? The reason for the uterus always
being internal is that in this is contained the egg or foetus,
which needs guarding, shelter, and maturation by concoction,
while the outer surface of the body is easily injured and cold.
The testes vary in position because they also need shelter and a
covering to preserve them and to mature the semen; for it
would be impossible for them, if chilled and stiffened, to be
drawn up and discharge it. Therefore, whenever the testes are
visible, they have a cuticular covering known as the scrotum. If
the nature of the skin is opposed to this, being too hard to be
adapted for enclosing them or for being soft like a true skin, as
with the scaly integument of fish and reptiles, then the testes
must needs be internal. Therefore they are so in dolphins and
all the cetacea which have them, and in the oviparous
quadrupeds among the scaly animals. The skin of birds also is
hard so that it will not conform to the size of anything and
enclose it neatly. (This is another reason with all these animals
for their testes being internal besides those previously
mentioned as arising necessarily from the details of copulation.)
For the same reason they are internal in the elephant and
hedgehog, for the skin of these, too, is not well suited to keep
the protective part separate.
[The position of the uterus differs in animals viviparous within
themselves and those externally oviparous, and in the latter
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class again it differs in those which have the uterus low and
those which have it near the hypozoma, as in fishes compared
with birds and oviparous quadrupeds. And it is different again
in those which produce young in both ways, being oviparous
internally and viviparous externally. For those which are
viviparous both internally and externally have the uterus placed
on the abdomen, as men, cattle, dogs, and the like, since it is
expedient for the safety and growth of the foetus that no weight
should be upon the uterus.]
13
The passages also are different through which the solid and
liquid excreta pass out in all the vivipara. Wherefore both males
and females in this class all have a part whereby the urine is
voided, and this serves also for the issue of the semen in males,
of the offspring in females. This passage is situated above and
in front of the passage of the solid excreta. The passage is the
same as that of the solid nutriment in all those animals that
have no penis, in all the ovipara, even those of them that have a
bladder, as the tortoises. For it is for the sake of generation, not
for the evacuation of the urine, that the passages are double;
but because the semen is naturally liquid, the liquid excretion
also shares the same passage. This is clear from the fact that all
animals produce semen, but all do not void liquid excrement.
Now the spermatic passages of the male must be fixed and
must not wander, and the same applies to the uterus of the
female, and this fixing must take place at either the front or the
back of the body. To take the uterus first, it is in the front of the
body in vivipara because of the foetus, but at the loin and the
back in ovipara. All animals which are internally oviparous and
externally viviparous are in an intermediate condition because
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14
The bloodless animals do not agree either with the sanguinea or
with each other in the fashion of the parts contributing to
generation. There are four classes still left to deal with, first the
crustacea, secondly the cephalopoda, thirdly the insects, and
fourthly the testacea. We cannot be certain about all of them,
but that most of them copulate is plain; in what manner they
unite must be stated later.
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15
The cephalopoda entwine together at the mouth, pushing
against one another and enfolding their arms. This attitude is
necessary, because Nature has bent backwards the end of the
intestine and brought it round near the mouth, as has been said
before in the treatise on the parts of animals. The female has a
part corresponding to the uterus, plainly to be seen in each of
these animals, for it contains an egg which is at first indivisible
to the eye but afterwards splits up into many; each of these eggs
is imperfect when deposited, as with the oviparous fishes. In
the cephalopoda (as also in the crustacea) the same passage
serves to void the excrement and leads to the part like a uterus,
for the male discharges the seminal fluid through this passage.
And it is on the lower surface of the body, where the mantle is
open and the sea-water enters the cavity. Hence the union of
the male with the female takes place at this point, for it is
necessary, if the male discharges either semen or a part of
himself or any other force, that he should unite with her at the
uterine passage. But the insertion, in the case of the poulps, of
the arm of the male into the funnel of the female, by which arm
the fishermen say the male copulates with her, is only for the
sake of attachment, and it is not an organ useful for generation,
2024
for it is outside the passage in the male and indeed outside the
body of the male altogether.
Sometimes also cephalopoda unite by the male mounting on
the back of the female, but whether for generation or some
other cause has not yet been observed.
16
Some insects copulate and the offspring are produced from
animals of the same name, just as with the sanguinea; such are
the locusts, cicadae, spiders, wasps, and ants. Others unite
indeed and generate; but the result is not a creature of the same
kind, but only a scolex, and these insects do not come into
being from animals but from putrefying matter, liquid or solid;
such are fleas, flies, and cantharides. Others again are neither
produced from animals nor unite with each other; such are
gnats, conopes, and many similar kinds. In most of those
which unite the female is larger than the male. The males do
not appear to have spermatic passages. In most cases the male
does not insert any part into the female, but the female from
below upwards into the male; this has been observed in many
cases (as also that the male mounts the female), the opposite in
few cases; but observations are not yet comprehensive enough
to enable us to make a distinction of classes. And generally it is
the rule with most of the oviparous fish and oviparous
quadrupeds that the female is larger than the because this is
expedient in view of the increase of bulk in conception by
reason of the eggs. In the female the part analogous to the
uterus is cleft and extends along the intestine, as with the other
animals; in this are produced the results of conception. This is
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17
Some animals manifestly emit semen, as all the sanguinea, but
whether the insects and cephalopoda do so is uncertain.
Therefore this is a question to be considered, whether all males
do so, or not all; and if not all, why some do and some not; and
whether the female also contributes any semen or not; and, if
not semen, whether she does not contribute anything else
either, or whether she contributes something else which is not
semen. We must also inquire what those animals which emit
semen contribute by means of it to generation, and generally
what is the nature of semen, and of the so-called catamenia in
all animals which discharge this liquid.
Now it is thought that all animals are generated out of semen,
and that the semen comes from the parents. Wherefore it is
part of the same inquiry to ask whether both male and female
produce it or only one of them, and to ask whether it comes
from the whole of the body or not from the whole; for if the
latter is true it is reasonable to suppose that it does not come
from both parents either. Accordingly, since some say that it
comes from the whole of the body, we must investigate this
question first.
2026
The proofs from which it can be argued that the semen comes
from each and every part of the body may be reduced to four.
First, the intensity of the pleasure of coition; for the same state
of feeling is more pleasant if multiplied, and that which affects
all the parts is multiplied as compared with that which affects
only one or a few. Secondly, the alleged fact that mutilations are
inherited, for they argue that since the parent is deficient in this
part the semen does not come from thence, and the result is
that the corresponding part is not formed in the offspring.
Thirdly, the resemblances to the parents, for the young are born
like them part for part as well as in the whole body; if then the
coming of the semen from the whole body is cause of the
resemblance of the whole, so the parts would be like because it
comes from each of the parts. Fourthly, it would seem to be
reasonable to say that as there is some first thing from which
the whole arises, so it is also with each of the parts, and
therefore if semen or seed is cause of the whole so each of the
parts would have a seed peculiar to itself. And these opinions
are plausibly supported by such evidence as that children are
born with a likeness to their parents, not in congenital but also
in acquired characteristics; for before now, when the parents
have had scars, the children have been born with a mark in the
form of the scar in the same place, and there was a case at
Chalcedon where the father had a brand on his arm and the
letter was marked on the child, only confused and not clearly
articulated. That is pretty much the evidence on which some
believe that the semen comes from all the body.
18
On examining the question, however, the opposite appears
more likely, for it is not hard to refute the above arguments and
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2029
animals; in the time of his Reign of Love, says he, many heads
sprang up without necks, and later on these isolated parts
combined into animals. Now that this is impossible is plain, for
neither would the separate parts be able to survive without
having any soul or life in them, nor if they were living things, so
to say, could several of them combine so as to become one
animal again. Yet those who say that semen comes from the
whole of the body really have to talk in that way, and as it
happened then in the earth during the Reign of Love, so it
happens according to them in the body. Now it is impossible
that the parts should be united together when they come into
being and should come from different parts of the parent,
meeting together in one place. Then how can the upper and
lower, right and left, front and back parts have been sundered?
All these points are unintelligible. Further, some parts are
distinguished by possessing a faculty, others by being in certain
states or conditions; the heterogeneous, as tongue and hand, by
the faculty of doing something, the homogeneous by hardness
and softness and the other similar states. Blood, then, will not
be blood, nor flesh flesh, in any and every state. It is clear, then,
that that which comes from any part, as blood from blood or
flesh from flesh, will not be identical with that part. But if it is
something different from which the blood of the offspring
comes, the coming of the semen from all the parts will not be
the cause of the resemblance, as is held by the supporters of
this theory. For if blood is formed from something which is not
blood, it is enough that the semen come from one part only, for
why should not all the other parts of the offspring as well as
blood be formed from one part of the parent? Indeed, this
theory seems to be the same as that of Anaxagoras, that none of
the homogeneous parts come into being, except that these
theorists assume, in the case of the generation of animals, what
he assumed of the universe.
2030
Then, again, how will these parts that came from all the body of
the parent be increased or grow? It is true that Anaxagoras
plausibly says that particles of flesh out of the food are added to
the flesh. But if we do not say this (while saying that semen
comes from all parts of the body), how will the foetus become
greater by the addition of something else if that which is added
remain unchanged? But if that which is added can change, then
why not say that the semen from the very first is of such a kind
that blood and flesh can be made out of it, instead of saying
that it itself is blood and flesh? Nor is there any other
alternative, for surely we cannot say that it is increased later by
a process of mixing, as wine when water is poured into it. For in
that case each element of the mixture would be itself at first
while still unmixed, but the fact rather is that flesh and bone
and each of the other parts is such later. And to say that some
part of the semen is sinew and bone is quite above us, as the
saying is.
Besides all this there is a difficulty if the sex is determined in
conception (as Empedocles says: it is shed in clean vessels;
some wax female, if they fall in with cold). Anyhow, it is plain
that both men and women change not only from infertile to
fertile, but also from bearing female to bearing male offspring,
which looks as if the cause does not lie in the semen coming
from all the parent or not, but in the mutual proportion or
disproportion of that comes from the woman and the man, or in
something of this kind. It is clear, then, if we are to put this
down as being so, that the female sex is not determined by the
semen coming from any particular part, and consequently
neither is the special sexual part so determined (if really the
same semen can become either male or female child, which
shows that the sexual part does not exist in the semen). Why,
then, should we assert this of this part any more than of others?
For if semen does not come from this part, the uterus, the same
account may be given of the others.
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from all the body, as they say, they ought not to claim that it
comes from all parts of it, but only from the creative part from
the workman, so to say, not the material he works in. Instead of
that, they talk as if one were to say that the semen comes from
the shoes, for, generally speaking, if a son is like his father, the
shoes he wears are like his fathers shoes.
As to the vehemence of pleasure in sexual intercourse, it is not
because the semen comes from all the body, but because there
is a strong friction (wherefore if this intercourse is often
repeated the pleasure is diminished in the persons concerned).
Moreover, the pleasure is at the end of the act, but it ought, on
the theory, to be in each of the parts, and not at the same time,
but sooner in some and later in others.
If mutilated young are born of mutilated parents, it is for the
same reason as that for which they are like them. And the
young of mutilated parents are not always mutilated, just as
they are not always like their parents; the cause of this must be
inquired into later, for this problem is the same as that.
Again, if the female does not produce semen, it is reasonable to
suppose it does not come from all the body of the male either.
Conversely, if it does not come from all the male it is not
unreasonable to suppose that it does not come from the female,
but that the female is cause of the generation in some other
way. Into this we must next inquire, since it is plain that the
semen is not secreted from all the parts.
In this investigation and those which follow from it, the first
thing to do is to understand what semen is, for then it will be
easier to inquire into its operations and the phenomena
connected with it. Now the object of semen is to be of such a
nature that from it as their origin come into being those things
which are naturally formed, not because there is any agent
which makes them from it as simply because this is the semen.
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19
After this we must distinguish of what sort of nutriment it is a
secretion, and must discuss the catamenia which occur in
certain of the vivipara. For thus we shall make it clear (1)
whether the female also produces semen like the male and the
foetus is a single mixture of two semens, or whether no semen
is secreted by the female, and, (2) if not, whether she
contributes nothing else either to generation but only provides a
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present, the efflux still continues; but she does so after the
purgation. For in the one case she has not the nutriment or
material from which the foetus can be framed by the power
coming from the male and inherent in the semen, and in the
other it is washed away with the catamenia because of their
abundance. But when after their occurrence the greater part has
been evacuated, the remainder is formed into a foetus. Cases of
conception when the catamenia do not occur at all, or of
conception during their discharge instead of after it, are due to
the fact that in the former instance there is only so much liquid
to begin with as remains behind after the discharge in fertile
women, and no greater quantity is secreted so as to come away
from the body, while in the latter instance the mouth of the
uterus closes after the discharge. When, therefore, the quantity
already expelled from the body is great but the discharge still
continues, only not on such a scale as to wash away the semen,
then it is that conception accompanies coition. Nor is it at all
strange that the catamenia should still continue after
conception (for even after it they recur to some extent, but are
scanty and do not last during all the period of gestation; this,
however, is a morbid phenomenon, wherefore it is found only in
a few cases and then seldom, whereas it is that which happens
as a regular thing that is according to Nature).
It is clear then that the female contributes the material for
generation, and that this is in the substance of the catamenia,
and that they are a secretion.
20
Some think that the female contributes semen in coition
because the pleasure she experiences is sometimes similar to
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21
So much for the discussion of this question. At the same time
the answer to the next question we have to investigate is clear
from these considerations, I mean how it is that the male
contributes to generation and how it is that the semen from the
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22
For the same reason the development of the embryo takes place
in the female; neither the male himself nor the female emits
semen into the male, but the female receives within herself the
share contributed by both, because in the female is the material
from which is made the resulting product. Not only must the
mass of material exist there from which the embryo is formed
in the first instance, but further material must constantly be
added that it may increase in size. Therefore the birth must take
place in the female. For the carpenter must keep in close
connexion with his timber and the potter with his clay, and
generally all workmanship and the ultimate movement
imparted to matter must be connected with the material
concerned, as, for instance, architecture is in the buildings it
makes.
2050
23
In all animals which can move about, the sexes are separated,
one individual being male and one female, though both are the
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2053
Book II
1
That the male and the female are the principles of generation
has been previously stated, as also what is their power and their
essence. But why is it that one thing becomes and is male,
another female? It is the business of our discussion as it
proceeds to try and point out (1) that the sexes arise from
Necessity and the first efficient cause, (2) from what sort of
material they are formed. That (3) they exist because it is better
and on account of the final cause, takes us back to a principle
still further remote.
Now (1) some existing things are eternal and divine whilst
others admit of both existence and non-existence. But (2) that
which is noble and divine is always, in virtue of its own nature,
the cause of the better in such things as admit of being better or
worse, and what is not eternal does admit of existence and nonexistence, and can partake in the better and the worse. And (3)
soul is better than body, and living, having soul, is thereby better
than the lifeless which has none, and being is better than not
being, living than not living. These, then, are the reasons of the
generation of animals. For since it is impossible that such a
class of things as animals should be of an eternal nature,
therefore that which comes into being is eternal in the only way
possible. Now it is impossible for it to be eternal as an
individual (though of course the real essence of things is in the
individual) were it such it would be eternal but it is possible
for it as a species. This is why there is always a class of men and
animals and plants. But since the male and female essences are
the first principles of these, they will exist in the existing
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is this: an egg is that from a part of which the young comes into
being, the rest being nutriment for it; but the whole of a scolex
is developed into the whole of the young animal. Of the
vivipara, which bring into the world an animal like themselves,
some are internally viviparous (as men, horses, cattle, and of
marine animals dolphins and the other cetacea); others first lay
eggs within themselves, and only after this are externally
viviparous (as the cartilaginous fishes). Among the ovipara
some produce the egg in a perfect condition (as birds and all
oviparous quadrupeds and footless animals, e.g. lizards and
tortoises and most snakes; for the eggs of all these do not
increase when once laid). The eggs of others are imperfect; such
are those of fishes, crustaceans, and cephalopods, for their eggs
increase after being produced.
All the vivipara are sanguineous, and the sanguinea are either
viviparous or oviparous, except those which are altogether
infertile. Among bloodless animals the insects produce a scolex,
alike those that are generated by copulation and those that
copulate themselves though not so generated. For there are
some insects of this sort, which though they come into being by
spontaneous generation are yet male and female; from their
union something is produced, only it is imperfect; the reason of
this has been previously stated.
These classes admit of much cross-division. Not all bipeds are
viviparous (for birds are oviparous), nor are they all oviparous
(for man is viviparous), nor are all quadrupeds oviparous (for
horses, cattle, and countless others are viviparous), nor are they
all viviparous (for lizards, crocodiles, and many others lay eggs).
Nor does the presence or absence of feet make the difference
between them, for not only are some footless animals
viviparous, as vipers and the cartilaginous fishes, while others
are oviparous, as the other fishes and serpents, but also among
those which have feet many are oviparous and many
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Animals that are cold and rather dry than moist also lay eggs,
but the egg is imperfect; at the same time, because they are of
an earthy nature and the egg they produce is imperfect,
therefore it has a hard integument that it may be preserved by
the protection of the shell-like covering. Hence fishes, because
they are scaly, and crustacea, because they are of an earthy
nature, lay eggs with a hard integument.
The cephalopods, having themselves bodies of a sticky nature,
preserve in the same way the imperfect eggs they lay, for they
deposit a quantity of sticky material about the embryo. All
insects produce a scolex. Now all the insects are bloodless,
wherefore all creatures that produce a scolex from themselves
are so. But we cannot say simply that all bloodless animals
produce a scolex, for the classes overlap one another, (1) the
insects, (2) the animals that produce a scolex, (3) those that lay
their egg imperfect, as the scaly fishes, the crustacea, and the
cephalopoda. I say that these form a gradation, for the eggs of
these latter resemble a scolex, in that they increase after
oviposition, and the scolex of insects again as it develops
resembles an egg; how so we shall explain later.
We must observe how rightly Nature orders generation in
regular gradation. The more perfect and hotter animals produce
their young perfect in respect of quality (in respect of quantity
this is so with no animal, for the young always increase in size
after birth), and these generate living animals within
themselves from the first. The second class do not generate
perfect animals within themselves from the first (for they are
only viviparous after first laying eggs), but still they are
externally viviparous. The third class do not produce a perfect
animal, but an egg, and this egg is perfect. Those whose nature
is still colder than these produce an egg, but an imperfect one,
which is perfected outside the body, as the class of scaly fishes,
the crustacea, and the cephalopods. The fifth and coldest class
2058
does not even lay an egg from itself; but so far as the young ever
attain to this condition at all, it is outside the body of the
parent, as has been said already. For insects produce a scolex
first; the scolex after developing becomes egg-like (for the socalled chrysalis or pupa is equivalent to an egg); then from this
it is that a perfect animal comes into being, reaching the end of
its development in the second change.
Some animals then, as said before, do not come into being from
semen, but all the sanguinea do so which are generated by
copulation, the male emitting semen into the female when this
has entered into her the young are formed and assume their
peculiar character, some within the animals themselves when
they are viviparous, others in eggs.
There is a considerable difficulty in understanding how the
plant is formed out of the seed or any animal out of the semen.
Everything that comes into being or is made must (1) be made
out of something, (2) be made by the agency of something, and
(3) must become something. Now that out of which it is made is
the material; this some animals have in its first form within
themselves, taking it from the female parent, as all those which
are not born alive but produced as a scolex or an egg; others
receive it from the mother for a long time by sucking, as the
young of all those which are not only externally but also
internally viviparous. Such, then, is the material out of which
things come into being, but we now are inquiring not out of
what the parts of an animal are made, but by what agency.
Either it is something external which makes them, or else
something existing in the seminal fluid and the semen; and this
must either be soul or a part of soul, or something containing
soul.
Now it would appear irrational to suppose that any of either the
internal organs or the other parts is made by something
2059
heart, having come into being first, then makes the liver, and
the liver again another organ, but that the liver only comes into
being after the heart, and not by the agency of the heart, as a
man becomes a man after being a boy, not by his agency. An
explanation of this is that, in all the productions of Nature or of
art, what already exists potentially is brought into being only by
what exists actually; therefore if one organ formed another the
form and the character of the later organ would have to exist in
the earlier, e.g. the form of the liver in the heart. And otherwise
also the theory is strange and fictitious.
Yet again, if the whole animal or plant is formed from semen or
seed, it is impossible that any part of it should exist ready made
in the semen or seed, whether that part be able to make the
other parts or no. For it is plain that, if it exists in it from the
first, it was made by that which made the semen. But semen
must be made first, and that is the function of the generating
parent. So, then, it is not possible that any part should exist in
it, and therefore it has not within itself that which makes the
parts.
But neither can this agent be external, and yet it must needs be
one or other of the two. We must try, then, to solve this
difficulty, for perhaps some one of the statements made cannot
be made without qualification, e.g. the statement that the parts
cannot be made by what is external to the semen. For if in a
certain sense they cannot, yet in another sense they can. (Now
it makes no difference whether we say the semen or that from
which the semen comes, in so far as the semen has in itself the
movement initiated by the other.) It is possible, then, that A
should move B, and B move C; that, in fact, the case should be
the same as with the automatic machines shown as curiosities.
For the parts of such machines while at rest have a sort of
potentiality of motion in them, and when any external force
puts the first of them in motion, immediately the next is moved
2061
art; heat and cold may make the iron soft and hard, but what
makes a sword is the movement of the tools employed, this
movement containing the principle of the art. For the art is the
starting-point and form of the product; only it exists in
something else, whereas the movement of Nature exists in the
product itself, issuing from another nature which has the form
in actuality.
Has the semen soul, or not? The same argument applies here as
in the question concerning the parts. As no part, if it participate
not in soul, will be a part except in an equivocal sense (as the
eye of a dead man is still called an eye), so no soul will exist in
anything except that of which it is soul; it is plain therefore that
semen both has soul, and is soul, potentially.
But a thing existing potentially may be nearer or further from
its realization in actuality, as e.g. a mathematician when asleep
is further from his realization in actuality as engaged in
mathematics than when he is awake, and when awake again
but not studying mathematics he is further removed than when
he is so studying. Accordingly it is not any part that is the cause
of the souls coming into being, but it is the first moving cause
from outside. (For nothing generates itself, though when it has
come into being it thenceforward increases itself.) Hence it is
that only one part comes into being first and not all of them
together. But that must first come into being which has a
principle of increase (for this nutritive power exists in all alike,
whether animals or plants, and this is the same as the power
that enables an animal or plant to generate another like itself,
that being the function of them all if naturally perfect). And this
is necessary for the reason that whenever a living thing is
produced it must grow. It is produced, then, by something else
of the same name, as e.g. man is produced by man, but it is
increased by means of itself. There is, then, something which
increases it. If this is a single part, this must come into being
2063
2
The next question to be mooted concerns the nature of semen.
For whereas when it issues from the animal it is thick and
white, yet on cooling it becomes liquid as water, and its colour
is that of water. This would appear strange, for water is not
thickened by heat; yet semen is thick when it issues from
within the animals body which is hot, and becomes liquid on
cooling. Again, watery fluids freeze, but semen, if exposed in
frosts to the open air, does not freeze but liquefies, as if it was
thickened by the opposite of cold. Yet it is unreasonable, again,
to suppose that it is thickened by heat. For it is only substances
having a predominance of earth in their composition that
coagulate and thicken on boiling, e.g. milk. It ought then to
solidify on cooling, but as a matter of fact it does not become
solid in any part but the whole of it goes like water.
This then is the difficulty. If it is water, water evidently does not
thicken through heat, whereas the semen is thick and both it
and the body whence it issues are hot. If it is made of earth or a
mixture of earth and water, it ought not to liquefy entirely and
turn to water.
2064
amber. But this does not happen, though it is true that one
semen must be more earthy than another, and especially so
with animals that have much earthy matter in them because of
the bulk of their bodies. And it is thick and white because it is
mixed with spirit, for it is also an invariable rule that it is white,
and Herodotus does not report the truth when he says that the
semen of the Aethiopians is black, as if everything must needs
be black in those who have a black skin, and that too when he
saw their teeth were white. The reason of the whiteness of
semen is that it is a foam, and foam is white, especially that
which is composed of the smallest parts, small in the sense that
each bubble is invisible, which is what happens when water and
oil are mixed and shaken together, as said before. (Even the
ancients seem to have noticed that semen is of the nature of
foam; at least it was from this they named the goddess who
presides over union.)
This then is the explanation of the problem proposed, and it is
plain too that this is why semen does not freeze; for air will not
freeze.
3
The next question to raise and to answer is this. If, in the case
of those animals which emit semen into the female, that which
enters makes no part of the resulting embryo, where is the
material part of it diverted if (as we have seen) it acts by means
of the power residing in it? It is not only necessary to decide
whether what is forming in the female receives anything
material, or not, from that which has entered her, but also
concerning the soul in virtue of which an animal is so called
(and this is in virtue of the sensitive part of the soul) does this
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either all of them, or none, or some must come into being in the
male from outside.
Now that it is impossible for them all to preexist is clear from
this consideration. Plainly those principles whose activity is
bodily cannot exist without a body, e.g. walking cannot exist
without feet. For the same reason also they cannot enter from
outside. For neither is it possible for them to enter by
themselves, being inseparable from a body, nor yet in a body, for
the semen is only a secretion of the nutriment in process of
change. It remains, then, for the reason alone so to enter and
alone to be divine, for no bodily activity has any connexion with
the activity of reason.
Now it is true that the faculty of all kinds of soul seems to have
a connexion with a matter different from and more divine than
the so-called elements; but as one soul differs from another in
honour and dishonour, so differs also the nature of the
corresponding matter. All have in their semen that which
causes it to be productive; I mean what is called vital heat. This
is not fire nor any such force, but it is the spiritus included in
the semen and the foam-like, and the natural principle in the
spiritus, being analogous to the element of the stars. Hence,
whereas fire generates no animal and we do not find any living
thing forming in either solids or liquids under the influence of
fire, the heat of the sun and that of animals does generate
them. Not only is this true of the heat that works through the
semen, but whatever other residuum of the animal nature there
may be, this also has still a vital principle in it. From such
considerations it is clear that the heat in animals neither is fire
nor derives its origin from fire.
Let us return to the material of the semen, in and with which
comes away from the male the spiritus conveying the principle
of soul. Of this principle there are two kinds; the one is not
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4
In those animals whose nature is comparatively imperfect,
when a perfect embryo (which, however, is not yet a perfect
animal) has been formed, it is cast out from the mother, for
reasons previously stated. An embryo is then complete when it
is either male or female, in the case of those animals who
possess this distinction, for some (i.e. all those which are not
themselves produced from a male or female parent nor from a
union of the two) produce an offspring which is neither male
nor female. Of the generation of these we shall speak later.
The perfect animals, those internally viviparous, keep the
developing embryo within themselves and in close connexion
until they give birth to a complete animal and bring it to light.
A third class is externally viviparous but first internally
oviparous; they develop the egg into a perfect condition, and
then in some cases the egg is set free as with creatures
externally oviparous, and the animal is produced from the egg
within the mothers body; in other cases, when the nutriment
from the egg is consumed, development is completed by
connection with the uterus, and therefore the egg is not set free
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5
And yet the question may be raised why it is that, if indeed the
female possesses the same soul and if it is the secretion of the
female which is the material of the embryo, she needs the male
besides instead of generating entirely from herself. The reason
is that the animal differs from the plant by having senseperception; if the sensitive soul is not present, either actually or
potentially, and either with or without qualification, it is
impossible for face, hand, flesh, or any other part to exist; it will
be no better than a corpse or part of a corpse. If then, when the
sexes are separated, it is the male that has the power of making
the sensitive soul, it is impossible for the female to generate an
animal from itself alone, for the process in question was seen to
involve the male quality. Certainly that there is a good deal in
the difficulty stated is plain in the case of the birds that lay
wind-eggs, showing that the female can generate up to a certain
point unaided. But this still involves a difficulty; in what way
are we to say that their eggs live? It neither possible that they
should live in the same way as fertile eggs (for then they would
produce a chick actually alive), nor yet can they be called eggs
only in the sense in which an egg of wood or stone is so called,
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for the fact that these eggs go bad shows that they previously
participate in some way in life. It is plain, then, that they have
some soul potentially. What sort of soul will this be? It must be
the lowest surely, and this is the nutritive, for this exists in all
animals and plants alike. Why then does it not perfect the parts
and the animal? Because they must have a sensitive soul, for
the parts of animals are not like those of a plant. And so the
female animal needs the help of the male, for in these animals
we are speaking of the male is separate. This is exactly what we
find, for the wind-eggs become fertile if the male tread the
female in a certain space of time. About the cause of these
things, however, we shall enter into detail later.
If there is any kind of animal which is female and has no male
separate from it, it is possible that this may generate a young
one from itself without copulation. No instance of this worthy
of credit has been observed up to the present at any rate, but
one case in the class of fishes makes us hesitate. No male of the
so-called erythrinus has ever yet been seen, but females, and
specimens full of roe, have been seen. Of this, however, we have
as yet no proof worthy of credit. Again, some members of the
class of fishes are neither male nor female, as eels and a kind of
mullets found in stagnant waters. But whenever the sexes are
separate the female cannot generate perfectly by herself alone,
for then the male would exist in vain, and Nature makes
nothing in vain. Hence in such animals the male always
perfects the work of generation, for he imparts the sensitive
soul, either by means of the semen or without it. Now the parts
of the embryo already exist potentially in the material, and so
when once the principle of movement has been imparted to
them they develop in a chain one after another, as the wheels
are moved one by another in the automatic machines. When
some of the natural philosophers say that like is brought to like,
this must be understood, not in the sense that the parts are
moved as changing place, but that they stay where they are and
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6
After this, as said already, the internal parts come into being
before the external. The greater become visible before the less,
even if some of them do not come into being before them. First
the parts above the hypozoma are differentiated and are
superior in size; the part below is both smaller and less
differentiated. This happens in all animals in which exists the
distinction of upper and lower, except in the insects; the growth
of those that produce a scolex is towards the upper part, for this
is smaller in the beginning. The cephalopoda are the only
locomotive animals in which the distinction of upper and lower
does not exist.
What has been said applies to plants also, that the upper
portion is earlier in development than the lower, for the roots
push out from the seed before the shoots.
2081
play upon them, for it is superfluous that men who do not know
how to play should have pipes. Thus there are three things: first,
the end, by which we mean that for the sake of which
something else exists; secondly, the principle of movement and
of generation, existing for the sake of the end (for that which
can make and generate, considered simply as such, exists only
in relation to what is made and generated); thirdly, the useful,
that is to say what the end uses. Accordingly, there must first
exist some part in which is the principle of movement (I say a
part because this is from the first one part of the end and the
most important part too); next after this the whole and the end;
thirdly and lastly, the organic parts serving these for certain
uses. Hence if there is anything of this sort which must exist in
animals, containing the principle and end of all their nature,
this must be the first to come into being first, that is,
considered as the moving power, but simultaneous with the
whole embryo if considered as a part of the end. Therefore all
the organic parts whose nature is to bring others into being
must always themselves exist before them, for they are for the
sake of something else, as the beginning for the sake of the end;
all those parts which are for the sake of something else but are
not of the nature of beginnings must come into being later. So it
is not easy to distinguish which of the parts are prior, those
which are for the sake of another or that for the sake of which
are the former. For the parts which cause the movement, being
prior to the end in order of development, come in to cause
confusion, and it is not easy to distinguish these as compared
with the organic parts. And yet it is in accordance with this
method that we must inquire what comes into being after what;
for the end is later than some parts and earlier than others. And
for this reason that part which contains the first principle
comes into being first, next to this the upper half of the body.
This is why the parts about the head, and particularly the eyes,
appear largest in the embryo at an early stage, while the parts
2083
below the umbilicus, as the legs, are small; for the lower parts
are for the sake of the upper, and are neither parts of the end
nor able to form it.
But they do not say well nor do they assign a necessary cause
who say simply that it always happens so, and imagine that
this is a first principle in these cases. Thus Democritus of
Abdera says that there is no beginning of the infinite; now the
cause is a beginning, and the eternal is infinite; in consequence,
to ask the cause of anything of this kind is to seek for a
beginning of the infinite. Yet according to this argument, which
forbids us to seek the cause, there will be no proof of any
eternal truth whatever; but we see that there is a proof of many
such, whether by eternal we mean what always happens or
what exists eternally; it is an eternal truth that the angles of a
triangle are always equal to two right angles, or that the
diagonal of a square is incommensurable with the side, and
nevertheless a cause and a proof can be given for these truths.
While, then, it is well said that we must not take on us to seek a
beginning (or first principle) of all things, yet this is not well
said of all things whatever that always are or always happen,
but only of those which really are first principles of the eternal
things; for it is by another method, not by proof, that we acquire
knowledge of the first principle. Now in that which is
immovable and unchanging the first principle is simply the
essence of the thing, but when we come to those things which
come into being the principles are more than one, varying in
kind and not all of the same kind; one of this number is the
principle of movement, and therefore in all the sanguinea the
heart is formed first, as was said at the beginning, and in the
other animals that which is analogous to the heart.
From the heart the blood-vessels extend throughout the body as
in the anatomical diagrams which are represented on the wall,
for the parts lie round these because they are formed out of
2084
them. The homogeneous parts are formed by heat and cold, for
some are put together and solidified by the one and some by
the other. The difference between these has already been
discussed elsewhere, and it has been stated what kinds of
things are soluble by liquid and fire, and what are not soluble by
liquid and cannot be melted by fire. The nutriment then oozes
through the blood-vessels and the passages in each of the parts,
like water in unbaked pottery, and thus is formed the flesh or its
analogues, being solidified by cold, which is why it is also
dissolved by fire. But all the particles given off which are too
earthy, having but little moisture and heat, cool as the moisture
evaporates along with the heat; so they become hard and earthy
in character, as nails, horns, hoofs, and beaks, and therefore
they are softened by fire but none of them is melted by it, while
some of them, as egg-shells, are soluble in liquids. The sinews
and bones are formed by the internal heat as the moisture dries,
and hence the bones are insoluble by fire like pottery, for like it
they have been as it were baked in an oven by the heat in the
process of development. But it is not anything whatever that is
made into flesh or bone by the heat, but only something
naturally fitted for the purpose; nor is it made in any place or
time whatever, but only in a place and time naturally so fitted.
For neither will that which exists potentially be made except by
that moving agent which possesses the actuality, nor will that
which possesses the actuality make anything whatever; the
carpenter would not make a box except out of wood, nor will a
box be made out of the wood without the carpenter. The heat
exists in the seminal secretion, and the movement and activity
in it is sufficient in kind and in quantity to correspond to each
of the parts. In so far as there is any deficiency or excess, the
resulting product is in worse condition or physically defective,
in like manner as in the case of external substances which are
thickened by boiling that they may be more palatable or for any
other purpose. But in the latter case it is we who apply the heat
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former parts from the inferior nutriment and the residues left
over from the other. For Nature, like a good householder, is not
in the habit of throwing away anything from which it is possible
to make anything useful. Now in a household the best part of
the food that comes in is set apart for the free men, the inferior
and the residue of the best for the slaves, and the worst is given
to the animals that live with them. Just as the intellect acts thus
in the outside world with a view to the growth of the persons
concerned, so in the case of the embryo itself does Nature form
from the purest material the flesh and the body of the other
sense-organs, and from the residues thereof bones, sinews, hair,
and also nails and hoofs and the like; hence these are last to
assume their form, for they have to wait till the time when
Nature has some residue to spare.
The bones, then, are made in the first conformation of the parts
from the seminal secretion or residue. As the animal grows the
bones grow from the natural nourishment, being the same as
that of the sovereign parts, but of this they only take up the
superfluous residues. For everywhere the nutriment may be
divided into two kinds, the first and the second; the former is
nutritious, being that which gives its essence both to the whole
and to the parts; the latter is concerned with growth, being that
which causes quantitative increase. But these must be
distinguished more fully later on. The sinews are formed in the
same way as the bones and out of the same materials, the
Seminal and nutritious residue. Nails, hair, hoofs, horns, beaks,
the spurs of cocks, and any other similar parts, are on the
contrary formed from the nutriment which is taken later and
only concerned with growth, in other words that which is
derived from the mother, or from the outer world after birth. For
this reason the bones on the one hand only grow up to a certain
point (for there is a limit of size in all animals, and therefore
also of the growth of the bones; if these had been always able to
grow, all animals that have bone or its analogue would grow as
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long as they lived, for these set the limit of size to animals.
What is the reason of their not always increasing in size must
be stated later.) Hair, on the contrary, and growths akin to hair
go on growing as long as they exist at all, and increase yet more
in diseases and when the body is getting old and wasting,
because more residual matter is left over, as owing to old age
and disease less is expended on the important parts, though
when the residual matter also fails through age the hair fails
with it. But the contrary is the case with the bones, for they
waste away along with the body and the other parts. Hair
actually goes on growing after death; it does not, however, begin
growing then.
About the teeth a difficulty may be raised. They have actually
the same nature as the bones, and are formed out of the bones,
but nails, hair, horns, and the like are formed out of the skin,
and that is why they change in colour along with it, for they
become white, black, and all sorts of colours according to that of
the skin. But the teeth do nothing of the sort, for they are made
out of the bones in all animals that have both bones and teeth.
Of all the bones they alone go on growing through life, as is
plain with the teeth which grow out of the straight line so as no
longer to touch each other. The reason for their growth, as a
final cause, is their function, for they would soon be worn down
if there were not some means of saving them; even as it is they
are altogether worn down in old age in some animals which eat
much and have not large teeth, their growth not being in
proportion to their detrition. And so Nature has contrived well
to meet the case in this also, for she causes the failure of the
teeth to synchronize with old age and death. If life lasted for a
thousand or ten thousand years the original teeth must have
been very large indeed, and many sets of them must have been
produced, for even if they had grown continuously they would
still have been worn smooth and become useless for their work.
The final cause of their growth has been now stated, but besides
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this as a matter of fact the growth of the teeth is not the same
as that of the other bones. The latter all come into being in the
first formation of the embryo and none of them later, but the
teeth do so later. Therefore it is possible for them to grow again
after the first set falls out, for though they touch the bones they
are not connate with them. They are formed, however, out of
the nutriment distributed to the bones, and so have the same
nature, even when the bones have their own number complete.
Other animals are born in possession of teeth or their analogue
(unless in cases contrary to Nature), because when they are set
free from the parent they are more perfect than man; but man
(also unless in cases contrary to Nature) is born without them.
The reason will be stated later why some teeth are formed and
fall out but others do not fall out.
It is because such parts are formed from a residue that man is
the most naked in body of all animals and has the smallest
nails in proportion to his size; he has the least amount of earthy
residue, but that part of the blood which is not concocted is the
residue, and the earthy part in the bodies of all animals is the
least concocted. We have now stated how each of the parts is
formed and what is the cause of their generation.
7
In viviparous animals, as said before, the embryo gets its growth
through the umbilical cord. For since the nutritive power of the
soul, as well as the others, is present in animals, it straightway
sends off this cord like a root to the uterus. The cord consists of
blood-vessels in a sheath, more numerous in the larger animals
as cattle and the like, one in the smallest, two in those of
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Of the animals that arise from such union all except mules are
found to copulate again with each other and to be able to
produce young of both sexes, but mules alone are sterile, for
they do not generate by union with one another or with other
animals. The problem why any individual, whether male or
female, is sterile is a general one, for some men and women are
sterile, and so are other animals in their several kinds, as horses
and sheep. But this kind, of mules, is universally so. The causes
of sterility in other animals are several. Both men and women
are sterile from birth when the parts useful for union are
imperfect, so that men never grow a beard but remain like
eunuchs, and women do not attain puberty; the same thing may
befall others as their years advance, sometimes on account of
the body being too well nourished (for men who are in too good
condition and women who are too fat the seminal secretion is
taken up into the body, and the former have no semen, the
latter no catamenia); at other times by reason of sickness men
emit the semen in a cold and liquid state, and the discharges of
women are bad and full of morbid secretions. Often, too, in both
sexes this state is caused by injuries in the parts and regions
contributory to copulation. Some such cases are curable, others
incurable, but the subjects especially remain sterile if anything
of the sort has happened in the first formation of the parts in
the embryo, for then are produced women of a masculine and
men of a feminine appearance, and in the former the catamenia
do not occur, in the latter the semen is thin and cold. Hence it is
with good reason that the semen of men is tested in water to
find out if it is infertile, for that which is thin and cold is quickly
spread out on the surface, but the fertile sinks to the bottom, for
that which is well concocted is hot indeed, but that which is
firm and thick is well concocted. They test women by pessaries
to see if the smells thereof permeate from below upwards to the
breath from the mouth and by colours smeared upon the eyes
to see if they colour the saliva. If these results do not follow it is
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8
In men, then, and in other kinds, as said before, such deficiency
occurs sporadically, but the whole of the mule kind is sterile.
The reason has not been rightly given by Empedocles and
Democritus, of whom the former expresses himself obscurely,
the latter more intelligibly. For they offer their demonstration in
the case of all these animals alike which unite against their
affinities. Democritus says that the genital passages of mules
are spoilt in the mothers uterus because the animals from the
first are not produced from parents of the same kind. But we
find that though this is so with other animals they are none the
less able to generate; yet, if this were the reason, all others that
unite in this manner ought to be barren. Empedocles assigns as
his reason that the mixture of the seeds becomes dense, each
of the two seminal fluids out of which it is made being soft, for
the hollows in each fit into the densities of the other, and in
such cases a hard substance is formed out of soft ones, like
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bronze mingled with tin. Now he does not give the correct
reason in the case of bronze and tin (we have spoken of them
in the Problems) nor, to take general ground, does he take his
principles from the intelligible. How do the hollows and solids
fit into one another to make the mixing, e.g. in the case of wine
and water? This saying is quite beyond us; for how we are to
understand the hollows of the wine and water is too far
beyond our perception. Again, when, as a matter of fact, horse is
born of horse, ass of ass, and mule of horse and ass in two ways
according as the parents are stallion and she-ass or jackass and
mare, why in the last case does there result something so
dense that the offspring is sterile, whereas the offspring of
male and female horse, male and female ass, is not sterile? And
yet the generative fluid of the male and female horse is soft. But
both sexes of the horse cross with both sexes of the ass, and the
offspring of both crosses are barren, according to Empedocles,
because from both is produced something dense, the seeds
being soft. If so, the offspring of stallion and mare ought also to
be sterile. If one of them alone united with the ass, it might be
said that the cause of the mules being unable to generate was
the unlikeness of that one to the generative fluid of the ass; but,
as it is, whatever be the character of that generative fluid with
which it unites in the ass, such it is also in the animal of its own
kind. Then, again, the argument is intended to apply to both
male and female mules alike, but the male does generate at
seven years of age, it is said; it is the female alone that is
entirely sterile, and even she is so only because she does not
complete the development of the embryo, for a female mule has
been known to conceive.
Perhaps an abstract proof might appear to be more plausible
than those already given; I call it abstract because the more
general it is the further is it removed from the special principles
involved. It runs somewhat as follows. From male and female of
the same species there are born in course of nature male and
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female of the same species as the parents, e.g. male and female
puppies from male and female dog. From parents of different
species is born a young one different in species; thus if a dog is
different from a lion, the offspring of male dog and lioness or of
lion and bitch will be different from both parents. If this is so,
then since (1) mules are produced of both sexes and are not
different in species from one another, and (2) a mule is born of
horse and ass and these are different in species from mules, it
is impossible that anything should be produced from mules. For
(1) another kind cannot be, because the product of male and
female of the same species is also of the same species, and (2) a
mule cannot be, because that is the product of horse and ass
which are different in form, [and it was laid down that from
parents different in form is born a different animal]. Now this
theory is too general and empty. For all theories not based on
the special principles involved are empty; they only appear to
be connected with the facts without being so really. As
geometrical arguments must start from geometrical principles,
so it is with the others; that which is empty may seem to be
something, but is really nothing. Now the basis of this particular
theory is not true, for many animals of different species are
fertile with one another, as was said before. So we must not
inquire into questions of natural science in this fashion any
more than any other questions; we shall be more likely to find
the reason by considering the facts peculiar to the two kinds
concerned, horse and ass. In the first place, each of them, if
mated with its own kind, bears only one young one; secondly,
the females are not always able to conceive from the male
(wherefore breeders put the horse to the mare again at
intervals). Indeed, both the mare is deficient in catamenia,
discharging less than any other quadruped, and the she-ass
does not admit the impregnation, but ejects the semen with her
urine, wherefore men follow flogging her after intercourse.
Again the ass is an animal of cold nature, and so is not wont to
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nature is added, (when too even in the other case when united
with their own species they with difficulty produce a single
young one), the result of the cross, being still more sterile and
contrary to nature, will need nothing further to make it sterile,
but will be so of necessity.
We find also that the bodies of female mules grow large because
the matter which is secreted in other animals to form the
catamenia is diverted to growth. But since the period of
gestation in such animals is a year, the mule must not only
conceive, if she is to be fertile, but must also nourish the
embryo till birth, and this is impossible if there are no
catamenia. But there are none in the mule; the useless part of
the nutriment is discharged with the excretion from the bladder
this is why male mules do not smell to the pudenda of the
females, as do the other solid-hoofed ungulates, but only to the
evacuation itself and the rest of the nutriment is used up to
increase the size of the body. Hence it is sometimes possible for
the female to conceive, as has been known to happen before
now, but it is impossible for her to complete the process of
nourishing the embryo and bringing it to birth.
The male, again, may sometimes generate, both because the
male sex is naturally hotter than the female and because it does
not contribute any material substance to the mixture. The result
in such cases is a ginnus, that is to say, a dwarf mule; for ginni
are produced also from the crossing of horse and ass when the
embryo is diseased in the uterus. The ginnus is in fact like the
so-called metachoera in swine, for a metachoerum also is a
pig injured in the uterus; this may happen to any pig. The origin
of human dwarfs is similar, for these also have their parts and
their whole development injured during gestation, and
resemble ginni and metachoera.
2099
Book III
1
We have now spoken about the sterility of mules, and about
those animals which are viviparous both externally and within
themselves. The generation of the oviparous sanguinea is to a
certain extent similar to that of the animals that walk, and all
may be embraced in the same general statement; but in other
respects there are differences in them both as compared with
each other and with those that walk. All alike are generated
from sexual union, the male emitting semen into the female.
But among the ovipara (1) birds produce a perfect hard-shelled
egg, unless it be injured by disease, and the eggs of birds are all
two-coloured. (2) The cartilaginous fishes, as has been often
said already, are oviparous internally but produce the young
alive, the egg changing previously from one part of the uterus to
another; and their egg is soft-shelled and of one colour. One of
this class alone does not produce the young from the egg within
itself, the so-called frog; the reason of which must be stated
later. (3) All other oviparous fishes produce an egg of one colour,
but this is imperfect, for its growth is completed outside the
mothers body by the same cause as are those eggs which are
perfected within.
Concerning the uterus of these classes of animals, what
differences there are among them and for what reasons, has
been stated previously. For in some of the viviparous creatures it
is high up near the hypozoma, in others low down by the
2100
2101
2102
are imperfect, and because they are smaller in size they are
more in number. They are less pleasant for food because they
are less concocted, for in all foods the concocted is more
agreeable. It has been sufficiently observed, then, that neither
birds nor fishes eggs are perfected for generation without the
males. As for embryos being formed in fish also (though in a
less degree) without the males, the fact has been observed
especially in river fish, for some are seen to have eggs from the
first, as has been written in the Enquiries concerning them. And
generally speaking in the case of birds even the impregnated
eggs are not wont for the most part to attain their full growth
unless the hen be trodden continually. The reason of this is that
just as with women intercourse with men draws down the
secretion of the catamenia (for the uterus being heated attracts
the moisture and the passages are opened), so this happens
also with birds; the residual matter corresponding to the
catamenia advances a little at a time, and is not discharged
externally, because its amount is small and the uterus is high
up by the hypozoma, but trickles together into the uterus itself.
For as the embryo of the vivipara grows by means of the
umbilical cord, so the egg grows through this matter flowing to
it through the uterus. For when once the hens have been
trodden, they all continue to have eggs almost without
intermission, though very small ones. Hence some are wont to
speak of wind-eggs as not coming into being independently but
as mere relics from a previous impregnation. But this is a false
view, for sufficient observations have been made of their arising
without impregnation in chickens and goslings. Also the female
partridges which are taken out to act as decoys, whether they
have ever been impregnated or not, immediately on smelling
the male and hearing his call, become filled with eggs in the
latter case and lay them in the former. The reason why this
happens is the same as in men and quadrupeds, for if their
bodies chance to be in rut they emit semen at the mere sight of
2104
we come to the ovipara which are both of a cold nature and also
moister (such is the fish kind) we find the white not separated
at all because of the small size of the eggs and the quantity of
the cold and earthy matter; therefore all fish eggs are of one
colour, and white compared with yellow, yellow compared with
white. Even the wind-eggs of birds have this distinction of
colour, for they contain that out of which will come each of the
two parts, alike that whence arises the principle of life and that
whence comes the nutriment; only both these are imperfect
and need the influence of the male in addition; for wind-eggs
become fertile if impregnated by the male within a certain
period. The difference in colour, however, is not due to any
difference of sex, as if the white came from the male, the yolk
from the female; both on the contrary come from the female,
but the one is cold, the other hot. In all cases then where the
hot part is considerable it is separated off, but where it is little it
cannot be so; hence the eggs of such animals, as has been said,
are of one colour. The semen of the male only puts them into
form; and therefore at first the egg in birds appears white and
small, but as it advances it is all yellow as more of the
sanguineous material is continually mixed with it; finally as the
hot part is separated the white takes up a position all round it
and equally distributed on all sides, as when a liquid boils; for
the white is naturally liquid and contains in itself the vital heat;
therefore it is separated off all round, but the yellow and earthy
part is inside. And if we enclose many eggs together in a bladder
or something of the kind and boil them over a fire so as not to
make the movement of the heat quicker than the separation of
the white and yolk in the eggs, then the same process takes
place in the whole mass of the eggs as in a single egg, all the
yellow part coming into the middle and the white surrounding
it.
We have thus stated why some eggs are of one colour and
others of two.
2106
2
The principle of the male is separated off in eggs at the point
where the egg is attached to the uterus, and the reason why the
shape of two-coloured eggs is unsymmetrical, and not perfectly
round but sharper at one end, is that the part of the white in
which is contained this principle must differ from the rest.
Therefore the egg is harder at this point than below, for it is
necessary to shelter and protect this principle. And this is why
the sharp end of the egg comes out of the hen later than the
blunt end; for the part attached to the uterus comes out later,
and the egg is attached at the point where is the said principle,
and the principle is in the sharp end. The same is the case also
in the seeds of plants; the principle of the seed is attached
sometimes to the twig, sometimes to the husk, sometimes to
the pericarp. This is plain in the leguminous plants, for where
the two cotyledons of beans and of similar seeds are united,
there is the seed attached to the parent plant, and there is the
principle of the seed.
A difficulty may be raised about the growth of the egg; how is it
derived from the uterus? For if animals derive their nutriment
through the umbilical cord, through what do eggs derive it?
They do not, like a scolex, acquire their growth by their own
means. If there is anything by which they are attached to the
uterus, what becomes of this when the egg is perfected? It does
not come out with the egg as the cord does with animals; for
when its egg is perfected the shell forms all round it. This
problem is rightly raised, but it is not observed that the shell is
at first only a soft membrane, and that it is only after the egg is
perfected that it becomes hard and brittle; this is so nicely
adjusted that it is still soft when it comes out (for otherwise it
2107
would cause pain in laying), but no sooner has it come out than
it is fixed hard by cooling, the moisture quickly evaporating
because there is but little of it, and the earthy part remaining.
Now at first a certain part of this membrane at the sharp end of
eggs resembles an umbilical cord, and projects like a pipe from
them while they are still small. It is plainly visible in small
aborted eggs, for if the bird be drenched with water or suddenly
chilled in any other way and cast out the egg too soon, it
appears still sanguineous and with a small tail like an umbilical
cord running through it. As the egg becomes larger this is more
twisted round and becomes smaller, and when the egg is
perfected this end is the sharp end. Under this is the inner
membrane which separates the white and the yolk from this.
When the egg is perfected, the whole of it is set free, and
naturally the umbilical cord does not appear, for it is now the
extreme end of the egg itself.
The egg is discharged in the opposite way from the young of
vivipara; the latter are born head-first, the part where is the first
principle leading, but the egg is discharged as it were feet first;
the reason of this being what has been stated, that the egg is
attached to the uterus at the point where is the first principle.
The young bird is produced out of the egg by the mothers
incubating and aiding the concoction, the creature developing
out of part of the egg, and receiving growth and completion
from the remaining part. For Nature not only places the
material of the creature in the egg but also the nourishment
sufficient for its growth; for since the mother bird cannot
perfect her young within herself she produces the nourishment
in the egg along with it. Whereas the nourishment, what is
called milk, is produced for the young of vivipara in another
part, in the breasts, Nature does this for birds in the egg. The
opposite, however, is the case to what people think and what is
asserted by Alcmaeon of Crotona. For it is not the white that is
2108
the milk, but the yolk, for it is this that is the nourishment of
the chick, whereas they think it is the white because of the
similarity of colour.
The chick then, as has been said, comes into being by the
incubation of the mother; yet if the temperature of the season is
favourable, or if the place in which the eggs happen to lie is
warm, the eggs are sufficiently concocted without incubation,
both those of birds and those of oviparous quadrupeds. For
these all lay their eggs upon the ground, where they are
concocted by the heat in the earth. Such oviparous quadrupeds
as do visit their eggs and incubate do so rather for the sake of
protecting them than of incubation.
The eggs of these quadrupeds are formed in the same way as
those of birds, for they are hard-shelled and two-coloured, and
they are formed near the hypozoma as are those of birds, and in
all other respects resemble them both internally and externally,
so that the inquiry into their causes is the same for all. But
whereas the eggs of quadrupeds are hatched out by the mere
heat of the weather owing to their strength, those of birds are
more exposed to destruction and need the mother-bird. Nature
seems to wish to implant in animals a special sense of care for
their young: in the inferior animals this lasts only to the
moment of giving birth to the incompletely developed animal;
in others it continues till they are perfect; in all that are more
intelligent, during the bringing up of the young also. In those
which have the greatest portion in intelligence we find
familiarity and love shown also towards the young when
perfected, as with men and some quadrupeds; with birds we
find it till they have produced and brought up their young, and
therefore if the hens do not incubate after laying they get into
worse condition, as if deprived of something natural to them.
2109
2110
in the ovipara it is the other way about, as if one should say that
the mother was in the uterus, for that which comes from the
mother, the nutriment, is the yolk. The reason is that the
process of nourishment is not completed within the mother.
As the creature grows the umbilicus running the chorion
collapses first, because it is here that the young is to come out;
what is left of the yolk, and the umbilical cord running to the
yolk, collapse later. For the young must have nourishment as
soon as it is hatched; it is not nursed by the mother and cannot
immediately procure its nourishment for itself; therefore the
yolk enters within it along with its umbilicus and the flesh
grows round it.
This then is the manner in which animals produced from
perfect eggs are hatched in all those, whether birds or
quadrupeds, which lay the egg with a hard shell. These details
are plainer in the larger creatures; in the smaller they are
obscure because of the smallness of the masses concerned.
3
The class of fishes is also oviparous. Those among them which
have the uterus low down lay an imperfect egg for the reason
previously given, but the so-called selache or cartilaginous
fishes produce a perfect egg within themselves but are
externally viviparous except one which they call the frog; this
alone lays a perfect egg externally. The reason is the nature of
its body, for its head is many times as large as the rest of the
body and is spiny and very rough. This is also why it does not
receive its young again within itself nor produce them alive to
begin with, for as the size and roughness of the head prevents
their entering so it would prevent their exit. And while the egg
2112
2113
4
Most of the other fish are externally oviparous, all laying an
imperfect egg except the frog-fish; the reason of this exception
has been previously stated, and the reason also why the others
lay imperfect eggs. In these also the development from the egg
runs on the same lines as that of the cartilaginous and
internally oviparous fishes, except that the growth is quick and
from small beginnings and the outside of the egg is harder. The
growth of the egg is like that of a scolex, for those animals
2114
5
A proof that these fish also are oviparous is the fact that even
viviparous fish, such as the cartilaginous, are first internally
oviparous, for hence it is plain that the whole class of fishes is
oviparous. Where, however, both sexes exist and the eggs are
produced in consequence of impregnation, the eggs do not
arrive at completion unless the male sprinkle his milt upon
2115
them. Some erroneously assert that all fish are female except in
the cartilaginous fishes, for they think that the females of fish
differ from what are supposed to be males only in the same way
as in those plants where the one bears fruit but the other is
fruitless, as olive and oleaster, fig and caprifig. They think the
like applies to fish except the cartilaginous, for they do not
dispute the sexes in these. And yet there is no difference in the
males of cartilaginous fishes and those belonging to the
oviparous class in respect of the organs for the milt, and it is
manifest that semen can be squeezed out of males of both
classes at the right season. The female also has a uterus. But if
the whole class were females and some of them unproductive
(as with mules in the class of bushy-tailed animals), then not
only should those which lay eggs have a uterus but also the
others, only the uterus of the latter should be different from
that of the former. But, as it is, some of them have organs for
milt and others have a uterus, and this distinction obtains in all
except two, the erythrinus and the channa, some of them
having the milt organs, others a uterus. The difficulty which
drives some thinkers to this conclusion is easily solved if we
look at the facts. They say quite correctly that no animal which
copulates produces many young, for of all those that generate
from themselves perfect animals or perfect eggs none is prolific
on the same scale as the oviparous fishes, for the number of
eggs in these is enormous. But they had overlooked the fact that
fish-eggs differ from those of birds in one circumstance. Birds
and all oviparous quadrupeds, and any of the cartilaginous fish
that are oviparous, produce a perfect egg, and it does not
increase outside of them, whereas the eggs of fish are imperfect
and do so complete their growth. Moreover the same thing
applies to cephalopods also and crustacea, yet these animals
are actually seen copulating, for their union lasts a long time,
and it is plain in these cases that the one is male and the other
has a uterus. Finally, it would be strange if this distinction did
2116
not exist in the whole class, just as male and female in all the
vivipara. The cause of the ignorance of those who make this
statement is that the differences in the copulation and
generation of various animals are of all kinds and not obvious,
and so, speculating on a small induction, they think the same
must hold good in all cases.
So also those who assert that conception in female fishes is
caused by their swallowing the semen of the male have not
observed certain points when they say this. For the males have
their milt and the females their eggs at about the same time of
year, and the nearer the female is to laying the more abundant
and the more liquid is the milt formed in the male. And just as
the increase of the milt in the male and of the roe in the female
takes place at the same time, so is it also with their emission,
for neither do the females lay all their eggs together, but
gradually, nor do the males emit all the milt at once. All these
facts are in accordance with reason. For just as the class of birds
in some cases has eggs without impregnation, but few and
seldom, impregnation being generally required, so we find the
same thing, though to a less degree, in fish. But in both classes
these spontaneous eggs are infertile unless the male, in those
kinds where the male exists, shed his fluid upon them. Now in
birds this must take place while the eggs are still within the
mother, because they are perfect when discharged, but in fish,
because the eggs are imperfect and complete their growth
outside the mother in all cases, those outside are preserved by
the sprinkling of the milt over them, even if they come into
being by impregnation, and here it is that the milt of the males
is used up. Therefore it comes down the ducts and diminishes
in quantity at the same time as this happens to the eggs of the
females, for the males always attend them, shedding their milt
upon the eggs as they are laid. Thus then they are male and
female, and all of them copulate (unless in any kind the
2117
distinction of sex does not exist), and without the semen of the
male no such animal comes into being.
What helps in the deception is also the fact that the union of
such fishes is brief, so that it is not observed even by many of
the fishermen, for none of them ever watches anything of the
sort for the sake of knowledge. Nevertheless their copulation
has been seen, for fish [when the tail part does not prevent it]
copulate like the dolphins by throwing themselves alongside of
one another. But the dolphins take longer to get free again,
whereas such fishes do so quickly. Hence, not seeing this, but
seeing the swallowing of the milt and the eggs, even the
fishermen repeat the same simple tale, so much noised abroad,
as Herodotus the storyteller, as if fish were conceived by the
mothers swallowing the milt, not considering that this is
impossible. For the passage which enters by way of the mouth
runs to the intestines, not to the uterus, and what goes into the
intestines must be turned into nutriment, for it is concocted;
the uterus, however, is plainly full of eggs, and from whence did
they enter it?
6
A similar story is told also of the generation of birds. For there
are some who say that the raven and the ibis unite at the
mouth, and among quadrupeds that the weasel brings forth its
young by the mouth; so say Anaxagoras and some of the other
physicists, speaking too superficially and without consideration.
Concerning the birds, they are deceived by a false reasoning,
because the copulation of ravens is seldom seen, but they are
often seen uniting with one another with their beaks, as do all
the birds of the raven family; this is plain with domesticated
2118
2119
7
Touching the generation of fish, the question may be raised,
why it is that in the cartilaginous fish neither the females are
seen discharging their eggs nor the males their milt, whereas in
the non-viviparous fishes this is seen in both sexes. The reason
is that the whole cartilaginous class do not produce much
semen, and further the females have their uterus near
hypozoma. For the males and females of the one class of fish
differ from the males and females of the other class in like
manner, for the cartilaginous are less productive of semen. But
in the oviparous fish, as the females lay their eggs on account of
their number, so do the males shed their milt on account of its
abundance. For they have more milt than just what is required
for copulation, as Nature prefers to expend the milt in helping
to perfect the eggs, when the female has deposited them, rather
than in forming them at first. For as has been said both further
back and in our recent discussions, the eggs of birds are
perfected internally but those of fish externally. The latter,
indeed, resemble in a way those animals which produce a
scolex, for the product discharged by them is still more
imperfect than a fishs egg. It is the male that brings about the
perfection of the egg both of birds and of fishes, only in the
former internally, as they are perfected internally, and in the
latter externally, because the egg is imperfect when deposited;
but the result is the same in both cases.
In birds the wind-eggs become fertile, and those previously
impregnated by one kind of cock change their nature to that of
the later cock. And if the eggs be behindhand in growth, then, if
the same cock treads the hen again after leaving off treading for
a time, he causes them to increase quickly, not, however, at any
period whatever of their development, but if the treading take
place before the egg changes so far that the white begins to
separate from the yolk. But in the eggs of fishes no such limit of
2120
time has been laid down, but the males shed their milt quickly
upon them to preserve them. The reason is that these eggs are
not two-coloured, and hence there is no such limit of time fixed
with them as with those of birds. This fact is what we should
expect, for by the time that the white and yolk are separated off
from one another, the birds egg already contains the principle
that comes from the male parent.... for the male contributes to
this.
Wind-eggs, then, participate in generation so far as is possible
for them. That they should be perfected into an animal is
impossible, for an animal requires sense-perception; but the
nutritive faculty of the soul is possessed by females as well as
males, and indeed by all living things, as has been often said,
wherefore the egg itself is perfect only as the embryo of a plant,
but imperfect as that of an animal. If, then, there had been no
male sex in the class of birds, the egg would have been
produced as it is in some fishes, if indeed there is any kind of
fish of such a nature as to generate without a male; but it has
been said of them before that this has not yet been
satisfactorily observed. But as it is both sexes exist in all birds,
so that, considered as a plant, the egg is perfect, but in so far as
it is not a plant it is not perfect, nor does anything else result
from it; for neither has it come into being simply like a real
plant nor from copulation like an animal. Eggs, however,
produced from copulation but already separated into white and
yolk take after the first cock; for they already contain both
principles, which is why they do not change again after the
second impregnation.
2121
8
The young are produced in the same way also by the
cephalopoda, e.g. sepias and the like, and by the crustacea, e.g.
carabi and their kindred, for these also lay eggs in consequence
of copulation, and the male has often been seen uniting with
the female. Therefore those who say that all fish are female and
lay eggs without copulation are plainly speaking unscientifically
from this point of view also. For it is a wonderful thing to
suppose that the former animals lay eggs in consequence of
copulation and that fish do not; if again they were unaware of
this, it is a sign of ignorance. The union of all these creatures
lasts a considerable time, as in insects, and naturally so, for they
are bloodless and therefore of a cold nature.
In the sepias and calamaries or squids the eggs appear to be
two, because the uterus is divided and appears double, but that
of the poulps appears to be single. The reason is that the shape
of the uterus in the poulp is round in form and spherical, the
cleavage being obscure when it is filled with eggs. The uterus of
the carabi is also bifid. All these animals also lay an imperfect
egg for the same reason as fishes. In the carabi and their like
the females produce their eggs so as to keep them attached to
themselves, which is why the side-flaps of the females are
larger than those of the males, to protect the eggs; the
cephalopoda lay them away from themselves. The males of the
cephalopoda sprinkle their milt over the females, as the male
fish do over the eggs, and it becomes a sticky and glutinous
mass, but in the carabi and their like nothing of the sort has
been seen or can be naturally expected, for the egg is under the
female and is hard-shelled. Both these eggs and those of the
cephalopoda grow after deposition like those of fishes.
The sepia while developing is attached to the egg by its front
part, for here alone is it possible, because this animal alone has
2122
its front and back pointing in the same direction. For the
position and attitude of the young while developing you must
look at the Enquiries.
9
We have now spoken of the generation of other animals, those
that walk, fly, and swim; it remains to speak of insects and
testacea according to the plan laid down. Let us begin with the
insects. It was observed previously that some of these are
generated by copulation, others spontaneously, and besides this
that they produce a scolex, and why this is so. For pretty much
all creatures seem in a certain way to produce a scolex first,
since the most imperfect embryo is of such a nature; and in all
animals, even the viviparous and those that lay a perfect egg,
the first embryo grows in size while still undifferentiated into
parts; now such is the nature of the scolex. After this stage
some of the ovipara produce the egg in a perfect condition,
others in an imperfect, but it is perfected outside as has been
often stated of fish. With animals internally viviparous the
embryo becomes egg-like in a certain sense after its original
formation, for the liquid is contained in a fine membrane, just
as if we should take away the shell of the egg, wherefore they
call the abortion of an embryo at that stage an efflux.
Those insects which generate at all generate a scolex, and those
which come into being spontaneously and not from copulation
do so at first from a formation this nature. I say that the former
generate a scolex, for we must put down caterpillars also and
the product of spiders as a sort of scolex. And yet some even of
these and many of the others may be thought to resemble eggs
because of their round shape, but we must not judge by shapes
2123
2124
10
There is much difficulty about the generation of bees. If it is
really true that in the case of some fishes there is such a
method of generation that they produce eggs without
copulation, this may well happen also with bees, to judge from
appearances. For they must (1) either bring the young brood
from elsewhere, as some say, and if so the young must either be
spontaneously generated or produced by some other animal, or
(2) they must generate them themselves, or (3) they must bring
some and generate others, for this also is maintained by some,
who say that they bring the young of the drones only. Again, if
they generate them it must be either with or without
copulation; if the former, then either (1) each kind must
generate its own kind, or (2) some one kind must generate the
others, or (3) one kind must unite with another for the purpose
(I mean for instance (1) that bees may be generated from the
union of bees, drones from that of drones, and kings from that
of kings, or (2) that all the others may be generated from one, as
from what are called kings and leaders, or (3) from the union of
drones and bees, for some say that the former are male, the
latter female, while others say that the bees are male and the
drones female). But all these views are impossible if we reason
first upon the facts peculiar to bees and secondly upon those
which apply more generally to other animals also.
For if they do not generate the young but bring them from
elsewhere, then bees ought to come into being also, if the bees
2125
did not carry them off, in the places from which the old bees
carry the germs. For why, if new bees come into existence when
the germs are transported, should they not do so if the germs
are left there? They ought to do so just as much, whether the
germs are spontaneously generated in the flowers or whether
some animal generates them. And if the germs were of some
other animal, then that animal ought to be produced from them
instead of bees. Again, that they should collect honey is
reasonable, for it is their food, but it is strange that they should
collect the young if they are neither their own offspring nor
food. With what object should they do so? for all animals that
trouble themselves about the young labour for what appears to
be their own offspring.
But, again, it is also unreasonable to suppose that the bees are
female and the drones male, for Nature does not give weapons
for fighting to any female, and while the drones are stingless all
the bees have a sting. Nor is the opposite view reasonable, that
the bees are male and the drones female, for no males are in
the habit of working for their offspring, but as it is the bees do
this. And generally, since the brood of the drones is found
coming into being among them even if there is no mature drone
present, but that of the bees is not so found without the
presence of the kings (which is why some say that the young of
the drones alone is brought in from outside), it is plain that they
are not produced from copulation, either (1) of bee with bee or
drone with drone or (2) of bees with drones. (That they should
import the brood of the drones alone is impossible for the
reasons already given, and besides it is unreasonable that a
similar state of things should not prevail with all the three
kinds if it prevails with one.) Then, again, it is also impossible
that the bees themselves should be some of them male and
some female, for in all kinds of animals the two sexes differ.
Besides they would in that case generate their own kind, but as
it is their brood is not found to come into being if the leaders
2126
are not among them, as men say. And an argument against both
theories, that the young are generated by union of the bees with
one another or with the drones, separately or with one another,
is this: none of them has ever yet been seen copulating,
whereas this would have often happened if the sexes had
existed in them. It remains then, if they are generated by
copulation at all, that the kings shall unite to generate them.
But the drones are found to come into being even if no leaders
are present, and it is not possible that the bees should either
import their brood or themselves generate them by copulation.
It remains then, as appears to be the case in certain fishes, that
the bees should generate the drones without copulation, being
indeed female in respect of generative power, but containing in
themselves both sexes as plants do. Hence also they have the
instrument of offence, for we ought not to call that female in
which the male sex is not separated. But if this is found to be
the case with drones, if they come into being without
copulation, then as it is necessary that the same account should
be given of the bees and the kings and that they also should be
generated without copulation. Now if the brood of the bees had
been found to come into being among them without the
presence of the kings, it would necessarily follow that the bees
also are produced from bees themselves without copulation, but
as it is, since those occupied with the tendance of these
creatures deny this, it remains that the kings must generate
both their own kind and the bees.
As bees are a peculiar and extraordinary kind of animal so also
their generation appears to be peculiar. That bees should
generate without copulation is a thing which may be paralleled
in other animals, but that what they generate should not be of
the same kind is peculiar to them, for the erythrinus generates
an erythrinus and the channa a channa. The reason is that bees
themselves are not generated like flies and similar creatures,
but from a kind different indeed but akin to them, for they are
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weather in that of the bees, for being smaller in size they need
the fine weather more than the kings do. It is right also that the
kings, being as it were made with a view to producing young,
should remain within, freed from the labour of procuring
necessaries, and also that they should be of a considerable size,
their bodies being, as it were, constituted with a view to bearing
young, and that the drones should be idle as having no weapon
to fight for the food and because of the slowness of their bodies.
But the bees are intermediate in size between the two other
kinds, for this is useful for their work, and they are workers as
having to support not only their young but also their fathers.
And it agrees with our views that the bees attend upon their
kings because they are their offspring (for if nothing of the sort
had been the case the facts about their leadership would be
unreasonable), and that, while they suffer the kings to do no
work as being their parents, they punish the drones as their
children, for it is nobler to punish ones children and those who
have no work to perform. The fact that the leaders, being few,
generate the bees in large numbers seems to be similar to what
obtains in the generation of lions, which at first produce five,
afterwards a smaller number each time at last one and
thereafter none. So the leaders at first produce a number of
workers, afterwards a few of their own kind; thus the brood of
the latter is smaller in number than that of the former, but
where Nature has taken away from them in number she has
made it up again in size.
Such appears to be the truth about the generation of bees,
judging from theory and from what are believed to be the facts
about them; the facts, however, have not yet been sufficiently
grasped; if ever they are, then credit must be given rather to
observation than to theories, and to theories only if what they
affirm agrees with the observed facts.
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11
Having spoken of the generation of all insects, we must now
speak of the testacea. Here also the facts of generation are
partly like and partly unlike those in the other classes. And this
is what might be expected. For compared with animals they
resemble plants, compared with plants they resemble animals,
so that in a sense they appear to come into being from semen,
but in another sense not so, and in one way they are
spontaneously generated but in another from their own kind, or
some of them in the latter way, others in the former. Because
their nature answers to that of plants, therefore few or no kinds
of testacea come into being on land, e.g. the snails and any
others, few as they are, that resemble them; but in the sea and
similar waters there are many of all kinds of forms. But the
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class of plants has but few and one may say practically no
representatives in the sea and such places, all such growing on
the land. For plants and testacea are analogous; and in
proportion as liquid has more quickening power than solid,
water than earth, so much does the nature of testacea differ
from that of plants, since the object of testacea is to be in such a
relation to water as plants are to earth, as if plants were, so to
say, land-oysters, oysters water-plants.
For such a reason also the testacea in the water vary more in
form than those on the land. For the nature of liquid is more
plastic than that of earth and yet not much less material, and
this is especially true of the inhabitants of the sea, for fresh
water, though sweet and nutritious, is cold and less material.
Wherefore animals having no blood and not of a hot nature are
not produced in lakes nor in the fresher among brackish waters,
but only exceptionally, but it is in estuaries and at the mouths
of rivers that they come into being, as testacea and cephalopoda
and crustacea, all these being bloodless and of a cold nature. For
they seek at the same time the warmth of the sun and food;
now the sea is not only water but much more material than
fresh water and hot in its nature; it has a share in all the parts
of the universe, water and air and earth, so that it also has a
share in all living things which are produced in connexion with
each of these elements. Plants may be assigned to land, the
aquatic animals to water, the land animals to air, but variations
of quantity and distance make a great and wonderful difference.
The fourth class must not be sought in these regions, though
there certainly ought to be some animal corresponding to the
element of fire, for this is counted in as the fourth of the
elementary bodies. But the form which fire assumes never
appears to be peculiar to it, but it always exists in some other of
the elements, for that which is ignited appears to be either air
or smoke or earth. Such a kind of animal must be sought in the
moon, for this appears to participate in the element removed in
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from such facts as these. They come into being on the side of
boats when the frothy mud putrefies. In many places where
previously nothing of the kind existed, the so-called limnostrea,
a kind of oyster, have come into being when the spot turned
muddy through want of water; thus when a naval armament
cast anchor at Rhodes a number of clay vessels were thrown out
into the sea, and after some time, when mud had collected
round them, oysters used to be found in them. Here is another
proof that such animals do not emit any generative substance
from themselves; when certain Chians carried some live oysters
over from Pyrrha in Lesbos and placed them in narrow straits of
the sea where tides clash, they became no more numerous as
time passed, but increased greatly in size. The so-called eggs
contribute to generation but are only a condition, like fat in the
sanguinea, and therefore the oysters are savoury at these
periods. A proof that this substance is not really eggs is the fact
that such eggs are always found in some testacea, as in pinnae,
whelks, and purple-fish; only they are sometimes larger and
sometimes smaller; in others as pectens, mussels, and the socalled limnostrea, they are not always present but only in the
spring; as the season advances they dwindle and at last
disappear altogether; the reason being that the spring is
favourable to their being in good condition. In others again, as
the ascidians, nothing of the sort is visible. (The details
concerning these last, and the places in which they come into
being, must be learnt from the Enquiry.)
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Book IV
1
We have thus spoken of the generation of animals both
generally and separately in all the different classes. But, since
male and female are distinct in the most perfect of them, and
since we say that the sexes are first principles of all living
things whether animals or plants, only in some of them the
sexes are separated and in others not, therefore we must speak
first of the origin of the sexes in the latter. For while the animal
is still imperfect in its kind the distinction is already made
between male and female.
It is disputed, however, whether the embryo is male or female,
as the case may be, even before the distinction is plain to our
senses, and further whether it is thus differentiated within the
mother or even earlier. It is said by some, as by Anaxagoras and
other of the physicists, that this antithesis exists from the
beginning in the germs or seeds; for the germ, they say, comes
from the male while the female only provides the place in
which it is to be developed, and the male is from the right, the
female from the left testis, and so also that the male embryo is
in the right of the uterus, the female in the left. Others, as
Empedocles, say that the differentiation takes place in the
uterus; for he says that if the uterus is hot or cold what enters it
becomes male or female, the cause of the heat or cold being the
flow of the catamenia, according as it is colder or hotter, more
antique or more recent. Democritus of Abdera also says that
the differentiation of sex takes place within the mother; that
however it is not because of heat and cold that one embryo
becomes female and another male, but that it depends on the
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to fall into error in assigning this cause of his; but if he had seen
it it is strange that he should still think the heat or cold of the
uterus to be the cause, since on his theory both these twins
would have become either male or female, but as it is we do not
see this to be the fact.
Again he says that the parts of the embryo are sundered, some
being in the male and some in the female parent, which is why
they desire intercourse with one another. If so it is necessary
that the sexual parts like the rest should be separated from one
another, already existing as masses of a certain size, and that
they should come into being in the embryo on account of
uniting with one another, not on account of cooling or heating
of the semen. But perhaps it would take too long to discuss
thoroughly such a cause as this which is stated by Empedocles,
for its whole character seems to be fanciful. If, however, the
facts about semen are such as we have actually stated, if it does
not come from the whole of the body of the male parent and if
the secretion of the male does not give any material at all to the
embryo, then we must make a stand against both Empedocles
and Democritus and any one else who argues on the same lines.
For then it is not possible that the body of the embryo should
exist sundered, part in the female parent and part in the male,
as Empedocles says in the words: But the nature of the limbs
hath been sundered, part in the mans...; nor yet that a whole
embryo is drawn off from each parent and the combination of
the two becomes male or female according as one part prevails
over another.
And, to take a more general view, though it is better to say that
the one part makes the embryo female by prevailing through
some superiority than to assign nothing but heat as the cause
without any reflection, yet, as the form of the pudendum also
varies along with the uterus from that of the father, we need an
explanation of the fact that both these parts go along with each
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other. If it is because they are near each other, then each of the
other parts also ought to go with them, for one of the prevailing
parts is always near another part where the struggle is not yet
decided; thus the offspring would be not only female or male
but also like its mother or father respectively in all other details.
Besides, it is absurd to suppose that these parts should come
into being as something isolated, without the body as a whole
having changed along with them. Take first and foremost the
blood-vessels, round which the whole mass of the flesh lies as
round a framework. It is not reasonable that these should
become of a certain quality because of the uterus, but rather
that the uterus should do so on account of them. For though it
is true that each is a receptacle of blood of some kind, still the
system of the vessels is prior to the other; the moving principle
must needs always be prior to that which it moves, and it is
because it is itself of a certain quality that it is the cause of the
development. The difference, then, of these parts as compared
with each other in the two sexes is only a concomitant result;
not this but something else must be held to be the first
principle and the cause of the development of an embryo as
male or female; this is so even if no semen is secreted by either
male or female, but the embryo is formed in any way you
please.
The same argument as that with which we meet Empedocles
and Democritus will serve against those who say that the male
comes from the right and the female from the left. If the male
contributes no material to the embryo, there can be nothing in
this view. If, as they say, he does contribute something of the
sort, we must confront them in the same way as we did the
theory of Empedocles, which accounts for the difference
between male and female by the heat and cold of the uterus.
They make the same mistake as he does, when they account for
the difference by their right and left, though they see that the
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sexes differ actually by the whole of the sexual parts; for what
reason then is the body of the uterus to exist in those embryos
which come from the left and not in those from the right? For if
an embryo have come from the left but has not acquired this
part, it will be a female without a uterus, and so too there is
nothing to stop another from being a male with a uterus!
Besides as has been said before, a female embryo has been
observed in the right part of the uterus, a male in the left, or
again both at once in the same part, and this not only once but
several times.
Some again, persuaded of the truth of a view resembling that of
these philosophers, say that if a man copulates with the right or
left testis tied up the result is male or female offspring
respectively; so at least Leophanes asserted. And some say that
the same happens in the case of those who have one or other
testis excised, not speaking truth but vaticinating what will
happen from probabilities and jumping at the conclusion that it
is so before seeing that it proves to be so. Moreover, they know
not that these parts of animals contribute nothing to the
production of one sex rather than the other; a proof of this is
that many animals in which the distinction of sex exists, and
which produce both male and female offspring, nevertheless
have no testes, as the footless animals; I mean the classes of
fish and of serpents.
To suppose, then, either that heat and cold are the causes of
male and female, or that the different sexes come from the right
and left, is not altogether unreasonable in itself; for the right of
the body is hotter than the left, and the concocted semen is
hotter than the unconcocted; again, the thickened is concocted,
and the more thickened is more fertile. Yet to put it in this way
is to seek for the cause from too remote a starting-point; we
must draw near the immediate causes in so far as it is possible
for us.
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Now since (1) the one sex is able and the other is unable to
reduce the residual secretion to a pure form, and (2) every
capacity or power in an organism has a certain corresponding
organ, whether the faculty produces the desired results in a
lower degree or in a higher degree, and the two sexes
correspond in this manner (the terms able and unable being
used in more senses than one) therefore it is necessary that
both female and male should have organs. Accordingly the one
has the uterus, the other the male organs.
Again, Nature gives both the faculty and the organ to each
individual at the same time, for it is better so. Hence each
region comes into being along with the secretions and the
faculties, as e.g. the faculty of sight is not perfected without the
eye, nor the eye without the faculty of sight; and so too the
intestine and bladder come into being along with the faculty of
forming the excreta. And since that from which an organ comes
into being and that by which it is increased are the same (i.e.
the nutriment), each of the parts will be made out of such a
material and such residual matter as it is able to receive. In the
second place, again, it is formed, as we say, in a certain sense,
out of its opposite. Thirdly, we must understand besides this
that, if it is true that when a thing perishes it becomes the
opposite of what it was, it is necessary also that what is not
under the sway of that which made it must change into its
opposite. After these premisses it will perhaps be now clearer
for what reason one embryo becomes female and another male.
For when the first principle does not bear sway and cannot
concoct the nourishment through lack of heat nor bring it into
its proper form, but is defeated in this respect, then must needs
the material which it works on change into its opposite. Now
the female is opposite to the male, and that in so far as the one
is female and the other male. And since it differs in its faculty,
its organ also is different, so that the embryo changes into this
state. And as one part of first-rate importance changes, the
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whole system of the animal differs greatly in form along with it.
This may be seen in the case of eunuchs, who, though mutilated
in one part alone, depart so much from their original
appearance and approximate closely to the female form. The
reason of this is that some of the parts are principles, and when
a principle is moved or affected needs must many of the parts
that go along with it change with it.
If then (1) the male quality or essence is a principle and a cause,
and (2) the male is such in virtue of a certain capacity and the
female is such in virtue of an incapacity, and (3) the essence or
definition of the capacity and of the incapacity is ability or
inability to concoct the nourishment in its ultimate stage, this
being called blood in the sanguinea and the analogue of blood
in the other animals, and (4) the cause of this capacity is in the
first principle and in the part which contains the principle of
natural heat therefore a heart must be formed in the
sanguinea (and the resulting animal will be either male or
female), and in the other kinds which possess the sexes must be
formed that which is analogous to the heart.
This, then, is the first principle and cause of male and female,
and this is the part of the body in which it resides. But the
animal becomes definitely female or male by the time when it
possesses also the parts by which the female differs from the
male, for it is not in virtue of any part you please that it is male
or female, any more than it is able to see or hear by possessing
any part you please.
To recapitulate, we say that the semen, which is the foundation
of the embryo, is the ultimate secretion of the nutriment. By
ultimate I mean that which is carried to every part of the body,
and this is also the reason why the offspring is like the parent.
For it makes no difference whether we say that the semen
comes from all the parts or goes to all of them, but the latter is
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the better. But the semen of the male differs from the
corresponding secretion of the female in that it contains a
principle within itself of such a kind as to set up movements
also in the embryo and to concoct thoroughly the ultimate
nourishment, whereas the secretion of the female contains
material alone. If, then, the male element prevails it draws the
female element into itself, but if it is prevailed over it changes
into the opposite or is destroyed. But the female is opposite to
the male, and is female because of its inability to concoct and of
the coldness of the sanguineous nutriment. And Nature assigns
to each of the secretions the part fitted to receive it. But the
semen is a secretion, and this in the hotter animals with blood,
i.e. the males, is moderate in quantity, wherefore the recipient
parts of this secretion in males are only passages. But the
females, owing to inability to concoct, have a great quantity of
blood, for it cannot be worked up into semen. Therefore they
must also have a part to receive this, and this part must be
unlike the passages of the male and of a considerable size. This
is why the uterus is of such a nature, this being the part by
which the female differs from the male.
2
We have thus stated for what reason the one becomes female
and the other male. Observed facts confirm what we have said.
For more females are produced by the young and by those
verging on old age than by those in the prime of life; in the
former the vital heat is not yet perfect, in the latter it is failing.
And those of a moister and more feminine state of body are
more wont to beget females, and a liquid semen causes this
more than a thicker; now all these characteristics come of
deficiency in natural heat.
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3
The same causes must be held responsible for the following
groups of facts. (1) Some children resemble their parents, while
others do not; some being like the father and others like the
mother, both in the body as a whole and in each part, male and
female offspring resembling father and mother respectively
rather than the other way about. (2) They resemble their parents
more than remoter ancestors, and resemble those ancestors
more than any chance individual. (3) Some, though resembling
none of their relations, yet do at any rate resemble a human
being, but others are not even like a human being but a
monstrosity. For even he who does not resemble his parents is
already in a certain sense a monstrosity; for in these cases
Nature has in a way departed from the type. The first departure
indeed is that the offspring should become female instead of
male; this, however, is a natural necessity. (For the class of
animals divided into sexes must be preserved, and as it is
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possible for the male sometimes not to prevail over the female
in the mixture of the two elements, either through youth or age
or some other such cause, it is necessary that animals should
produce female young). And the monstrosity, though not
necessary in regard of a final cause and an end, yet is necessary
accidentally. As for the origin of it, we must look at it in this
way. If the generative secretion in the catamenia is properly
concocted, the movement imparted by the male will make the
form of the embryo in the likeness of itself. (Whether we say
that it is the semen or this movement that makes each of the
parts grow, makes no difference; nor again whether we say that
it makes them grow or forms them from the beginning, for
the formula of the movement is the same in either case.) Thus if
this movement prevail, it will make the embryo male and not
female, like the father and not like the mother; if it prevail not,
the embryo is deficient in that faculty in which it has not
prevailed. By each faculty I mean this. That which generates is
not only male but also a particular male, e.g. Coriscus or
Socrates, and it is not only Coriscus but also a man. In this way
some of the characteristics of the father are more near to him,
others more remote from him considered simply as a parent
and not in reference to his accidental qualities (as for instance
if the parent is a scholar or the neighbour of some particular
person). Now the peculiar and individual has always more force
in generation than the more general and wider characteristics.
Coriscus is both a man and an animal, but his manhood is
nearer to his individual existence than is his animalhood. In
generation both the individual and the class are operative, but
the individual is the more so of the two, for this is the only true
existence. And the offspring is produced indeed of a certain
quality, but also as an individual, and this latter is the true
existence. Therefore it is from the forces of all such existences
that the efficient movements come which exist in the semen;
potentially from remoter ancestors but in a higher degree and
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2152
But those who account for the similarity in the manner which
remains to be discussed, explain this point better, as well as the
others. For there are some who say that the semen, though one,
is as it were a common mixture (panspermia) of many
elements; just as, if one should mix many juices in one liquid
and then take some from it, it would be possible to take, not an
equal quantity always from each juice, but sometimes more of
one and sometimes more of another, sometimes some of one
and none at all of another, so they say it is with the generative
fluid, which is a mixture of many elements, for the offspring
resembles that parent from which it has derived most. Though
this theory is obscure and in many ways fictitious, it aims at
what is better expressed by saying that what is called
panspermia exists potentially, not actually; it cannot exist
actually, but it can do so potentially. Also, if we assign only one
sort of cause, it is not easy to explain all the phenomena, (1) the
distinction of sex, (2) why the female is often like the father and
the male like the mother, and again (3) the resemblance to
remoter ancestors, and further (4) the reason why the offspring
is sometimes unlike any of these but still a human being, but
sometimes, (5) proceeding further on these lines, appears finally
to be not even a human being but only some kind of animal,
what is called a monstrosity.
For, following what has been said, it remains to give the reason
for such monsters. If the movements imparted by the semen are
resolved and the material contributed by the mother is not
controlled by them, at last there remains the most general
substratum, that is to say the animal. Then people say that the
child has the head of a ram or a bull, and so on with other
animals, as that a calf has the head of a child or a sheep that of
an ox. All these monsters result from the causes stated above,
but they are none of the things they are said to be; there is only
some similarity, such as may arise even where there is no defect
of growth. Hence often jesters compare some one who is not
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4
Democritus said that monstrosities arose because two
emissions of seminal fluid met together, the one succeeding the
other at an interval of time; that the later entering into the
uterus reinforced the earlier so that the parts of the embryo
grow together and get confused with one another. But in birds,
he says, since copulation takes place quickly, both the eggs and
their colour always cross one another. But if it is the fact, as it
manifestly is, that several young are produced from one
emission of semen and a single act of intercourse, it is better
not to desert the short road to go a long way about, for in such
cases it is absolutely necessary that this should occur when the
semen is not separated but all enters the female at once.
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If, then, we must attribute the cause to the semen of the male,
this will be the way we shall have to state it, but we must rather
by all means suppose that the cause lies in the material
contributed by the female and in the embryo as it is forming.
Hence also such monstrosities appear very rarely in animals
producing only one young one, more frequently in those
producing many, most of all in birds and among birds in the
common fowl. For this bird produces many young, not only
because it lays often like the pigeon family, but also because it
has many embryos at once and copulates all the year round.
Therefore it produces many double eggs, for the embryos grow
together because they are near one another, as often happens
with many fruits. In such double eggs, when the yolks are
separated by the membrane, two separate chickens are
produced with nothing abnormal about them; when the yolks
are continuous, with no division between them, the chickens
produced are monstrous, having one body and head but four
legs and four wings; this is because the upper parts are formed
earlier from the white, their nourishment being drawn from the
yolk, whereas the lower part comes into being later and its
nourishment is one and indivisible.
A snake has also been observed with two heads for the same
reason, this class also being oviparous and producing many
young. Monstrosities, however, are rarer among them owing to
the shape of the uterus, for by reason of its length the
numerous eggs are set in a line.
Nothing of the kind occurs with bees and wasps, because their
brood is in separate cells. But in the fowl the opposite is the
case, whereby it is plain that we must hold the cause of such
phenomena to lie in the material. So, too, monstrosities are
commoner in other animals if they produce many young. Hence
they are less common in man, for he produces for the most part
only one young one and that perfect; even in man monstrosities
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that the kind of animal has one, two, or many toes. A proof of
this is that the elephant is the largest of animals and yet is
many-toed, and the camel, the next largest, is cloven-footed.
And not only in animals that walk but also in those that fly or
swim the large ones produce few, the small many, for the same
reason. In like manner also it is not the largest plants that bear
most fruit.
We have explained then why some animals naturally produce
many young, some but few, and some only one; in the difficulty
now stated we may rather be surprised with reason at those
which produce many, since such animals are often seen to
conceive from a single copulation. Whether the semen of the
male contributes to the material of the embryo by itself
becoming a part of it and mixing with the semen of the female,
or whether, as we say, it does not act in this way but brings
together and fashions the material within the female and the
generative secretion as the fig-juice does the liquid substance of
milk, what is the reason why it does not form a single animal of
considerable size? For certainly in the parallel case the fig-juice
is not separated if it has to curdle a large quantity of milk, but
the more the milk and the more the fig-juice put into it, so
much the greater is the curdled mass. Now it is no use to say
that the several regions of the uterus attract the semen and
therefore more young than one are formed, because the regions
are many and the cotyledons are more than one. For two
embryos are often formed in the same region of the uterus, and
they may be seen lying in a row in animals that produce many,
when the uterus is filled with the embryos. (This is plain from
the dissections.) Rather the truth is this. As animals complete
their growth there are certain limits to their size, both upwards
and downwards, beyond which they cannot go, but it is in the
space between these limits that they exceed or fall short of one
another in size, and it is within these limits that one man (or
any other animal) is larger or smaller than another. So also the
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to the power of the heat which acts on the material and to the
material so acted upon.
On the same principle many embryos are not formed, though
the secretion is much, in the large animals which produce only
one young one, for in them also both the material and that
which works upon it are of a certain quantity. So then they do
not secrete such material in too great quantity for the reason
previously stated, and what they do secrete is naturally just
enough for one embryo alone to be formed from it. If ever too
much is secreted, then twins are born. Hence such cases seem
to be more portentous, because they are contrary to the general
and customary rule.
Man belongs to all three classes, for he produces one only and
sometimes many or few, though naturally he almost always
produces one. Because of the moisture and heat of his body he
may produce many [for semen is naturally fluid and hot], but
because of his size he produces few or one. On account of this it
results that in man alone among animals the period of
gestation is irregular; whereas the period is fixed in the rest,
there are several periods in man, for children are born at seven
months and at ten months and at the times between, for even
those of eight months do live though less often than the rest.
The reason may be gathered from what has just been said, and
the question has been discussed in the Problems. Let this
explanation suffice for these points.
The cause why the parts may be multiplied contrary to Nature
is the same as the cause of the birth of twins. For the reason
exists already in the embryo, whenever it aggregates more
material at any point of itself than is required by the nature of
the part. The result is then that either one of its parts is larger
than the others, as a finger or hand or foot or any of the other
extremities or limbs; or again if the embryo is cleft there may
2161
come into being more than one such part, as eddies do in rivers;
as the water in these is carried along with a certain motion, if it
dash against anything two systems or eddies come into being
out of one, each retaining the same motion; the same thing
happens also with the embryos. The abnormal parts generally
are attached near those they resemble, but sometimes at a
distance because of the movement taking place in the embryo,
and especially because of the excess of material returning to
that place whence it was taken away while retaining the form
of that part whence it arose as a superfluity.
In certain cases we find a double set of generative organs [one
male and the other female]. When such duplication occurs the
one is always functional but not the other, because it is always
insufficiently supplied with nourishment as being contrary to
Nature; it is attached like a growth (for such growths also
receive nourishment though they are a later development than
the body proper and contrary to Nature.) If the formative power
prevails, both are similar; if it is altogether vanquished, both are
similar; but if it prevail here and be vanquished there, then the
one is female and the other male. (For whether we consider the
reason why the whole animal is male or female, or why the
parts are so, makes no difference.)
When we meet with deficiency in such parts, e.g. an extremity
or one of the other members, we must assume the same cause
as when the embryo is altogether aborted (abortion of embryos
happens frequently).
Outgrowths differ from the production of many young in the
manner stated before; monsters differ from these in that most
of them are due to embryos growing together. Some however
are also of the following kind, when the monstrosity affects
greater and more sovereign parts, as for instance some
monsters have two spleens or more than two kidneys. Further,
2162
the parts may migrate, the movements which form the embryo
being diverted and the material changing its place. We must
decide whether the monstrous animal is one or is composed of
several grown together by considering the vital principle; thus, if
the heart is a part of such a kind then that which has one heart
will be one animal, the multiplied parts being mere outgrowths,
but those which have more than one heart will be two animals
grown together through their embryos having been confused.
It also often happens even in many animals that do not seem to
be defective and whose growth is now complete, that some of
their passages may have grown together or others may have
been diverted from the normal course. Thus in some women
before now the os uteri has remained closed, so that when the
time for the catamenia has arrived pain has attacked them, till
either the passage has burst open of its own accord or the
physicians have removed the impediment; some such cases
have ended in death if the rupture has been made too violently
or if it has been impossible to make it at all. In some boys on the
other hand the end of the penis has not coincided with the end
of the passage where the urine is voided, but the passage has
ended below, so that they crouch sitting to void it, and if the
testes are drawn up they appear from a distance to have both
male and female generative organs. The passage of the solid
food also has been closed before now in sheep and some other
animals; there was a cow in Perinthus which passed fine matter,
as if it were sifted, through the bladder, and when the anus was
cut open it quickly closed up again nor could they succeed in
keeping it open.
We have now spoken of the production of few and many young,
and of the outgrowth of superfluous parts or of their deficiency,
and also of monstrosities.
2163
5
Superfoetation does not occur at all in some animals but does
in others; of the former some are able to bring the later formed
embryo to birth, while others can only do so sometimes. The
reason why it does not occur in some is that they produce only
one young one, for it is not found in solid-hoofed animals and
those larger than these, as owing to their size the secretion of
the female is all used up for the one embryo. For all these have
large bodies, and when an animal is large its foetus is large in
proportion, e.g. the foetus of the elephant is as big as a calf. But
superfoetation occurs in those which produce many young
because the production of more than one at a birth is itself a
sort of superfoetation, one being added to another. Of these all
that are large, as man, bring to birth the later embryo, if the
second impregnation takes place soon after the first, for such
an event has been observed before now. The reason is that given
above, for even in a single act of intercourse the semen
discharged is more than enough for one embryo, and this being
divided causes more than one child to be born, the one of which
is later than the other. But when the embryo has already grown
to some size and it so happens that copulation occurs again,
superfoetation sometimes takes place, but rarely, since the
uterus generally closes in women during the period of gestation.
If this ever happens (for this also has occurred) the mother
cannot bring the second embryo to perfection, but it is cast out
in a state like what are called abortions. For just as, in those
animals that bear only one, all the secretion of the female is
converted to the first formed embryo because of its size, so it is
here also; the only difference is that in the former case this
happens at once, in the latter when the foetus has attained to
some size, for then they are in the same state as those that bear
only one. In like manner, since man naturally would produce
2164
many young, and since the size of the uterus and the quantity
of the female secretion are both greater than is necessary for
one embryo, only not so much so as to bring to birth a second,
therefore women and mares are the only animals which admit
the male during gestation, the former for the reason stated, and
mares both because of the barrenness of their nature and
because their uterus is of superfluous size, too large for one but
too small to allow a second embryo to be brought to perfection
by superfoetation. And the mare is naturally inclined to sexual
intercourse because she is in the same case as the barren
among women; these latter are barren because they have no
monthly discharge (which corresponds to the act of intercourse
in males) and mares have exceedingly little. And in all the
vivipara the barren females are so inclined, because they
resemble the males when the semen has collected in the testes
but is not being got rid of. For the discharge of the catamenia is
in females a sort of emission of semen, they being unconcocted
semen as has been said before. Hence it is that those women
also who are incontinent in regard to such intercourse cease
from their passion for it when they have borne many children,
for, the seminal secretion being then drained off, they no longer
desire this intercourse. And among birds the hens are less
disposed that way than the cocks, because the uterus of the
hen-bird is up near the hypozoma; but with the cock-birds it is
the other way, for their testes are drawn up within them, so
that, if any kind of such birds has much semen naturally, it is
always in need of this intercourse. In females then it
encourages copulation to have the uterus low down, but in
males to have the testes drawn up.
It has been now stated why superfoetation is not found in some
animals at all, why it is found in others which sometimes bring
the later embryos to birth and sometimes not, and why some
such animals are inclined to sexual intercourse while others are
not.
2165
6
Some of the vivipara produce their young imperfect, others
perfect; the one-hoofed and cloven-footed perfect, most of the
2166
2169
7
We must also speak of what is known as mola uteri, which
occurs rarely in women but still is found sometimes during
pregnancy. For they produce what is called a mola; it has
happened before now to a woman, after she had had
intercourse with her husband and supposed she had conceived,
that at first the size of her belly increased and everything else
happened accordingly, but yet when the time for birth came on,
she neither bore a child nor was her size reduced, but she
continued thus for three or four years until dysentery came on,
endangering her life, and she produced a lump of flesh which is
called mola. Moreover this condition may continue till old age
and death. Such masses when expelled from the body become
so hard that they can hardly be cut through even by iron.
Concerning the cause of this phenomenon we have spoken in
the Problems; the same thing happens to the embryo in the
womb as to meats half cooked in roasting, and it is not due to
heat, as some say, but rather to the weakness of the maternal
heat. (For their nature seems to be incapable, and unable to
perfect or to put the last touches to the process of generation.
Hence it is that the mola remains in them till old age or at any
rate for a long time, for in its nature it is neither perfect nor
altogether a foreign body.) It is want of concoction that is the
reason of its hardness, as with half-cooked meat, for this halfdressing of meat is also a sort of want of concoction.
2170
8
Milk is formed in the females of all internally viviparous
animals, becoming useful for the time of birth. For Nature has
made it for the sake of the nourishment of animals after birth,
so that it may neither fail at this time at all nor yet be at all
superfluous; this is just what we find happening, unless
anything chance contrary to Nature. In the other animals the
period of gestation does not vary, and so the milk is concocted
in time to suit this moment, but in man, since there are several
times of birth, it must be ready at the first of these; hence in
women the milk is useless before the seventh month and only
then becomes useful. That it is only concocted at the last stages
is what we should expect to happen also as being due to a
necessary cause. For at first such residual matter when secreted
is used up for the development of the embryo; now the
nutritious part in all things is the sweetest and the most
concocted, and thus when all such elements are removed what
remains must become of necessity bitter and ill-flavoured. As
the embryo is perfecting, the residual matter left over increases
in quantity because the part consumed by the embryo is less; it
is also sweeter since the easily concocted part is less drawn
2171
2172
2173
9
The natural birth of all animals is head-foremost, because the
parts above the umbilical cord are larger than those below. The
body then, being suspended from the cord as in a balance,
inclines towards the heavy end, and the larger parts are the
heavier.
10
The period of gestation is, as a matter of fact, determined
generally in each animal in proportion to the length of its life.
This we should expect, for it is reasonable that the development
of the long-lived animals should take a longer time. Yet this is
not the cause of it, but the periods only correspond accidentally
2174
for the most part; for though the larger and more perfect
sanguinea do live a long time, yet the larger are not all longerlived. Man lives a longer time than any animal of which we have
any credible experience except the elephant, and yet the human
kind is smaller than that of the bushy-tailed animals and many
others. The real cause of long life in any animal is its being
tempered in a manner resembling the environing air, along with
certain other circumstances of its nature, of which we will
speak later; but the cause of the time of gestation is the size of
the offspring. For it is not easy for large masses to arrive at their
perfection in a small time, whether they be animals or, one may
say, anything else whatever. That is why horses and animals
akin to them, though living a shorter time than man, yet carry
their young longer; for the time in the former is a year, but in
the latter ten months at the outside. For the same reason also
the time is long in elephants; they carry their young two years
on account of their excessive size.
We find, as we might expect, that in all animals the time of
gestation and development and the length of life aims at being
measured by naturally complete periods. By a natural period I
mean, e.g. a day and night, a month, a year, and the greater
times measured by these, and also the periods of the moon, that
is to say, the full moon and her disappearance and the halves of
the times between these, for it is by these that the moons orbit
fits in with that of the sun [the month being a period common
to both].
The moon is a first principle because of her connexion with the
sun and her participation in his light, being as it were a second
smaller sun, and therefore she contributes to all generation and
development. For heat and cold varying within certain limits
make things to come into being and after this to perish, and it is
the motions of the sun and moon that fix the limit both of the
beginning and of the end of these processes. Just as we see the
2175
Book V
1
We must now investigate the qualities by which the parts of
animals differ. I mean such qualities of the parts as blueness
and blackness in the eyes, height and depth of pitch in the
2176
2177
2178
2179
The eyes of all children are bluish immediately after birth; later
on they change to the colour which is to be theirs permanently.
But in the case of other animals this is not visible. The reason of
this is that the eyes of other animals are more apt to have only
one colour for each kind of animal; e.g. cattle are dark-eyed, the
eye of all sheep is pale, of others again the whole kind is blue or
grey-eyed, and some are yellow (goat-eyed), as the majority of
goats themselves, whereas the eyes of men happen to be of
many colours, for they are blue or grey or dark in some cases
and yellow in others. Hence, as the individuals in other kinds of
animals do not differ from one another in the colour, so neither
do they differ from themselves, for they are not of a nature to
have more than one colour. Of the other animals the horse has
the greatest variety of colour in the eye, for some of them are
actually heteroglaucous; this phenomenon is not to be seen in
any of the other animals, but man is sometimes
heteroglaucous.
Why then is it that there is no visible change in the other
animals if we compare their condition when newly born with
their condition at a more advanced age, but that there is such a
change in children? We must consider just this to be a sufficient
cause, that the part concerned has only one colour in the
former but several colours in the latter. And the reason why the
eyes of infants are bluish and have no other colour is that the
parts are weaker in the newly born and blueness is a sort of
weakness.
We must also gain a general notion about the difference in eyes,
for what reason some are blue, some grey, some yellow, and
some dark. To suppose that the blue are fiery, as Empedocles
says, while the dark have more water than fire in them, and
that this is why the former, the blue, have not keen sight by day,
viz. owing to deficiency of water in their composition, and the
latter are in like condition by night, viz. owing to deficiency of
2180
2181
see bright things because the liquid is acted upon and moved
too much.
The same thing is shown also by the morbid affections of each
kind of sight. Cataract attacks the blue-eyed more, but what is
called nyctalopia the dark-eyed. Now cataract is a sort of
dryness of the eyes and therefore it is found more in the aged,
for this part also like the rest of the body gets dry towards old
age; but is an excess of liquidity and so is found more in the
younger, for their brain is more liquid.
The sight of the eye which is intermediate between too much
and too little liquid is the best, for it has neither too little so as
to be disturbed and hinder the movement of the colours, nor
too much so as to cause difficulty of movement.
Not only the above-mentioned facts are causes of seeing keenly
or the reverse, but also the nature of the skin upon what is
called the pupil. This ought to be transparent, and it is
necessary that the transparent should be thin and white and
even, thin that the movement coming from without may pass
straight through it, even that it may not cast a shade the liquid
behind it by wrinkling (for this also is a reason why old men
have not keen sight, the skin of the eye like the rest of the skin
wrinkling and becoming thicker in old age), and white because
black is not transparent, for that is just what is meant by black,
what is not shone through, and that is why lanterns cannot give
light if they be made of black skin. It is for these reasons then
that the sight is not keen in old age nor in the diseases in
question, but it is because of the small amount of liquid that the
eyes of children appear blue at first.
And the reason why men especially and horses occasionally are
heteroglaucous is the same as the reason why man alone grows
grey and the horse is the only other animal whose hairs whiten
visibly in old age. For greyness is a weakness of the fluid in the
2182
2
It is the same also with hearing and smell; to hear and smell
accurately mean in one sense to perceive as precisely as
possible all the distinctions of the objects of perception, in
another sense to hear and smell far off. As with sight, so here
the sense-organ is the cause of judging well the distinctions, if
both that organ itself and the membrane round it be pure. For
the passages of all the sense-organs, as has been said in the
treatise on sensation, run to the heart, or to its analogue in
creatures that have no heart. The passage of the hearing, then,
since this sense-organ is of air, ends at the place where the
innate spiritus causes in some animals the pulsation of the
heart and in others respiration; wherefore also it is that we are
able to understand what is said and repeat what we have heard,
2184
for as was the movement which entered through the senseorgan, such again is the movement which is caused by means of
the voice, being as it were of one and the same stamp, so that a
man can say what he has heard. And we hear less well during a
yawn or expiration than during inspiration, because the
starting-point of the sense-organ of hearing is set upon the part
concerned with breathing and is shaken and moved as the
organ moves the breath, for while setting the breath in motion
it is moved itself. The same thing happens in wet weather or a
damp atmosphere.... And the ears seemed to be filled with air
because their starting-point is near the region of breathing.
Accuracy then in judging the differences of sounds and smells
depends on the purity of the sense-organ and of the membrane
lying upon its surface, for then all the movements become clear
in such cases, as in the case of sight. Perception and nonperception at a distance also depend on the same things with
hearing and smell as with sight. For those animals can perceive
at a distance which have channels, so to say, running through
the parts concerned and projecting far in front of the senseorgans. Therefore all animals whose nostrils are long, as the
Laconian hounds, are keen-scented, for the sense-organ being
above them, the movements from a distance are not dissipated
but go straight to the mark, just as the movements which cause
sight do with those who shadow the eyes with the hand.
Similar is the case of animals whose ears are long and project
far like the eaves of a house, as in some quadrupeds, with the
internal spiral passage long; these also catch the movement
from afar and pass it on to the sense-organ.
In respect of sense-perception at a distance, man is, one may
say, the worst of all animals in proportion to his size, but in
respect of judging the differences of quality in the objects he is
the best of all. The reason is that the sense-organ in man is pure
2185
and least earthy and material, and he is by nature the thinnestskinned of all animals for his size.
The workmanship of Nature is admirable also in the seal, for
though a viviparous quadruped it has no ears but only passages
for hearing. This is because its life is passed in the water; now
the ear is a part added to the passages to preserve the
movement of the air at a distance; therefore an ear is no use to
it but would even bring about the contrary result by receiving a
mass of water into itself.
We have thus spoken of sight, hearing, and smell.
3
As for hair, men differ in this themselves at different ages, and
also from all other kinds of animals that have hair. These are
almost all which are internally viviparous, for even when the
covering of such animals is spiny it must be considered as a
kind of hair, as in the land hedgehog and any other such animal
among the vivipara. Hairs differ in respect of hardness and
softness, length and shortness, straightness and curliness,
quantity and scantiness, and in addition to these qualities, in
their colours, whiteness and blackness and the intermediate
shades. They differ also in some of these respects according to
age, as they are young or growing old. This is especially plain in
man; the hair gets coarser as time goes on, and some go bald on
the front of the head; children indeed do not go bald, nor do
women, but men do so by the time their age is advancing.
Human beings also go grey on the head as they grow old, but
this is not visible in practically any other animal, though more
so in the horse than others. Men go bald on the front of the
head, but turn grey first on the temples; no one goes bald first
2186
2187
2188
There are some animals whose hair is soft and yet less fine, as
is the case with the class of hares compared with that of sheep;
in such animals the hair is on the surface of the skin, not deeply
rooted in it, and so is not long but in much the same state as
the scrapings from linen, for these also are not long but are soft
and do not admit of weaving.
The condition of sheep in cold climates is opposite to that of
man; the hair of the Scythians is soft but that of the Sauromatic
sheep is hard. The reason of this is the same as it is also all wild
animals. The cold hardens and solidifies them by drying them,
for as the heat is pressed out the moisture evaporates, and both
hair and skin become earthy and hard. In wild animals then the
exposure to the cold is the cause of hardness in the hair, in the
others the nature of the climate is the cause. A proof of this is
also what happens in the sea-urchins which are used as a
remedy in stranguries. For these, too, though small themselves,
have large and hard spines because the sea in which they live is
cold on account of its depth (for they are found in sixty fathoms
and even more). The spines are large because the growth of the
body is diverted to them, since having little heat in them they
do not concoct their nutriment and so have much residual
matter and it is from this that spines, hairs, and such things are
formed; they are hard and petrified through the congealing
effect of the cold. In the same way also plants are found to be
harder, more earthy, and stony, if the region in which they grow
looks to the north than if it looks to the south, and those in
windy places than those in sheltered, for they are all more
chilled and their moisture evaporates.
Hardening, then, comes of both heat and cold, for both cause
the moisture to evaporate, heat per se and cold per accidens
(since the moisture goes out of things along with the heat, there
being no moisture without heat), but whereas cold not only
hardens but also condenses, heat makes a substance rarer.
2189
For the same reason, as animals grow older, the hairs become
harder in those which have hairs, and the feathers and scales in
the feathered and scaly kinds. For their skins become harder
and thicker as they get older, for they are dried up, and old age,
as the word denotes, is earthy because the heat fails and the
moisture along with it.
Men go bald visibly more than any other animal, but still such a
state is something general, for among plants also some are
evergreens while others are deciduous, and birds which
hibernate shed their feathers. Similar to this is the condition of
baldness in those human beings to whom it is incident. For
leaves are shed by all plants, from one part of the plant at a
time, and so are feathers and hairs by those animals that have
them; it is when they are all shed together that the condition is
described by the terms mentioned, for it is called going bald
and the fall of the leaf and moulting. The cause of the
condition is deficiency of hot moisture, such moisture being
especially the unctuous, and hence unctuous plants are more
evergreen. (However we must elsewhere state the cause of this
phenomena in plants, for other causes also contribute to it.) It is
in winter that this happens to plants (for the change from
summer to winter is more important to them than the time of
life), and to those animals which hibernate (for these, too, are by
nature less hot and moist than man); in the latter it is the
seasons of life that correspond to summer and winter. Hence no
one goes bald before the time of sexual intercourse, and at that
time it is in those naturally inclined to such intercourse that
baldness appears, for the brain is naturally the coldest part of
the body and sexual intercourse makes men cold, being a loss of
pure natural heat. Thus we should expect the brain to feel the
effect of it first, for a little cause turns the scale where the thing
concerned is weak and in poor condition. Thus if we reckon up
these points, that the brain itself has but little heat, and further
that the skin round it must needs have still less, and again that
2190
the hair must have still less than the skin inasmuch as it is
furthest removed from the brain, we should reasonably expect
baldness to come about this age upon those who have much
semen. And it is for the same reason that the front part of the
head alone goes bald in man and that he is the only animal to
do so; the front part goes bald because the brain is there, and
man is the only animal to go bald because his brain is much the
largest and the moistest. Women do not go bald because their
nature is like that of children, both alike being incapable of
producing seminal secretion. Eunuchs do not become bald,
because they change into the female condition. And as to the
hair that comes later in life, eunuchs either do not grow it at all,
or lose it if they happen to have it, with the exception of the
pubic hair; for women also grow that though they have not the
other, and this mutilation is a change from the male to the
female condition.
The reason why the hair does not grow again in cases of
baldness, although both hibernating animals recover their
feathers or hair and trees that have shed their leaves grow
leaves again, is this. The seasons of the year are the turningpoints of their lives, rather than their age, so that when these
seasons change they change with them by growing and losing
feathers, hairs, or leaves respectively. But the winter and
summer, spring and autumn of man are defined by his age, so
that, since his ages do not return, neither do the conditions
caused by them return, although the cause of the change of
condition is similar in man to what it is in the animals and
plants in question.
We have now spoken pretty much of all the other conditions of
hair.
2191
4
But as to their colour, it is the nature of the skin that is the
cause of this in other animals and also of their being unicoloured or vari-coloured); but in man it is not the cause, except
of the hair going grey through disease (not through old age), for
in what is called leprosy the hairs become white; on the
contrary, if the hairs are white the whiteness does not invade
the skin. The reason is that the hairs grow out of skin; if, then,
the skin is diseased and white the hair becomes diseased with
it, and the disease of hair is greyness. But the greyness of hair
which is due to age results from weakness and deficiency of
heat. For as the body declines in vigour we tend to cold at every
time of life, and especially in old age, this age being cold and
dry. We must remember that the nutriment coming to each part
of the body is concocted by the heat appropriate to the part; if
the heat is inadequate the part loses its efficiency, and
destruction or disease results. (We shall speak more in detail of
causes in the treatise on growth and nutrition.) Whenever, then,
the hair in man has naturally little heat and too much moisture
enters it, its own proper heat is unable to concoct the moisture
and so it is decayed by the heat in the environing air. All decay
is caused by heat, not the innate heat but external heat, as has
been stated elsewhere. And as there is a decay of water, of earth,
and all such material bodies, so there is also of the earthy
vapour, for instance what is called mould (for mould is a decay
of earthy vapour). Thus also the liquid nutriment in the hair
decays because it is not concocted, and what is called greyness
results. It is white because mould also, practically alone among
decayed things, is white. The reason of this is that it has much
air in it, all earthy vapour being equivalent to thick air. For
mould is, as it were, the antithesis of hoar-frost; if the ascending
vapour be frozen it becomes hoar-frost, if it be decayed, mould.
Hence both are on the surface of things, for vapour is
superficial. And so the comic poets make a good metaphor in
2192
jest when they call grey hairs mould of old age and For the one
is generically the same as greyness, the other specifically; hoarfrost generically (for both are a vapour), mould specifically (for
both are a form of decay). A proof that this is so is this: grey
hairs have often grown on men in consequence of disease, and
later on dark hairs instead of them after restoration to health.
The reason is that in sickness the whole body is deficient in
natural heat and so the parts besides, even the very small ones,
participate in this weakness; and again, much residual matter is
formed in the body and all its parts in illness, wherefore the
incapacity in the flesh to concoct the nutriment causes the grey
hairs. But when men have recovered health and strength again
they change, becoming as it were young again instead of old; in
consequence the states change also. Indeed, we may rightly call
disease an acquired old age, old age a natural disease; at any
rate, some diseases produce the same effects as old age.
Men go grey on the temples first, because the back of the head
is empty of moisture owing to its containing no brain, and the
bregma has a great deal of moisture, a large quantity not being
liable to decay; the hair on the temples however has neither so
little that it can concoct it nor so much that it cannot decay, for
this region of the head being between the two extremes is
exempt from both states. The cause of greyness in man has now
been stated.
5
The reason why this change does not take place visibly on
account of age in other animals is the same as that already
given in the case of baldness; their brain is small and less fluid
than in man, so that the heat required for concoction does not
2193
2194
even white-skinned men have very dark hair. The reason is that
man has the thinnest skin of all animals in proportion to his
size and therefore it has not strength to change the hairs; on
the contrary the skin itself changes its colour through its
weakness and is darkened by sun and wind, while the hairs do
not change along with it at all. But in the other animals the
skin, owing to its thickness, has the influence belonging to the
soil in which a thing grows, therefore the hairs change
according to the skin but the skin does not change at all in
consequence of the winds and the sun.
6
Of animals some are uni-coloured (I mean by this term those of
which the kind as a whole has one colour, as all lions are tawny;
and this condition exists also in birds, fish, and the other
classes of animals alike); others though many-coloured are yet
whole-coloured (I mean those whose body as a whole has the
same colour, as a bull is white as a whole or dark as a whole);
others are vari-coloured. This last term is used in both ways;
sometimes the whole kind is vari-coloured, as leopards and
peacocks, and some fish, e.g. the so-called thrattai; sometimes
the kind as a whole is not so, but such individuals are found in
it, as with cattle and goats and, among birds, pigeons; the same
applies also to other kinds of birds. The whole-coloured change
much more than the uniformly coloured, both into the simple
colour of another individual of the same kind (as dark changing
into white and vice versa) and into both colours mingled. This is
because it is a natural characteristic of the kind as a whole not
to have one colour only, the kind being easily moved in both
directions so that the colours both change more into one
another and are more varied. The opposite holds with the
2195
2196
7
As to the voice, it is deep in some animals, high in others, in
others again well-pitched and in due proportion between both
extremes. Again, in some it is loud, in others small, and it differs
in smoothness and roughness, flexibility and inflexibility. We
must inquire then into the causes of each of these distinctions.
We must suppose then that the same cause is responsible for
high and deep voices as for the change which they undergo in
passing from youth to age. The voice is higher in all other
2197
voiced, and the same will be high and not loud voiced; but
this is false.
The reason of the difficulty is that the words great and small,
much and little are used sometimes absolutely, sometimes
relatively to one another. Whether an animal has a great (or
loud) voice depends on the air which is moved being much
absolutely, whether it has a small voice depends on its being
little absolutely; but whether they have a deep or high voice
depends on their being thus differentiated in relation to one
another. For if that which is moved surpass the strength of that
which moves it, the air that is sent forth must go slowly; if the
opposite, quickly. The strong, then, on account of their strength,
sometimes move much air and make the movement slow,
sometimes, having complete command over it, make the
movement swift. On the same principle the weak either move
too much air for their strength and so make the movement
slow, or if they make it swift move but little because of their
weakness.
These, then, are the reasons of these contrarieties, that neither
are all young animals high-voiced nor all deep-voiced, nor are
all the older, nor yet are the two sexes thus opposed, and again
that not only the sick speak in a high voice but also those in
good bodily condition, and, further, that as men verge on old
age they become higher-voiced, though this age is opposite to
that of youth.
Most young animals, then, and most females set but little air in
motion because of their want of power, and are consequently
high-voiced, for a little air is carried along quickly, and in the
voice what is quick is high. But in calves and cows, in the one
case because of their age, in the other because of their female
nature, the part by which they set the air in motion is not
strong; at the same time they set a great quantity in motion and
2199
females too, only not so plainly, the result being what some call
bleating when the voice is uneven. After this it settles into the
deep or high voice of the succeeding time of life. If the testes are
removed the tension of the passages relaxes, as when the
weight is taken off the string or the warp; as this relaxes, the
organ which moves the voice is loosened in the same
proportion. This, then, is the reason why the voice and the form
generally changes to the female character in castrated animals;
it is because the principle is relaxed upon which depends the
tension of the body; not that, as some suppose, the testes are
themselves a ganglion of many principles, but small changes
are the causes of great ones, not per se but when it happens
that a principle changes with them. For the principles, though
small in size, are great in potency; this, indeed, is what is meant
by a principle, that it is itself the cause of many things without
anything else being higher than it for it to depend upon.
The heat or cold also of their habitat contributes to make some
animals of such a character as to be deep-voiced, and others
high-voiced. For hot breath being thick causes depth, cold
breath being thin the opposite. This is clear also in pipe-playing,
for if the breath of the performer is hotter, that is to say if it is
expelled as by a groan, the note is deeper.
The cause of roughness and smoothness in the voice, and of all
similar inequality, is that the part or organ through which the
voice is conveyed is rough or smooth or generally even or
uneven. This is plain when there is any moisture about the
trachea or when it is roughened by any affection, for then the
voice also becomes uneven.
Flexibility depends on the softness or hardness of the organ, for
what is soft can be regulated and assume any form, while what
is hard cannot; thus the soft organ can utter a loud or a small
note, and accordingly a high or a deep one, since it easily
2201
8
With regard to the teeth it has been stated previously that they
do not exist for a single purpose nor for the same purpose in all
animals, but in some for nutrition only, in others also for
fighting and for vocal speech. We must, however, consider it not
alien to the discussion of generation and development to
inquire into the reason why the front teeth are formed first and
the grinders later, and why the latter are not shed but the
former are shed and grow again.
Democritus has spoken of these questions but not well, for he
assigns the cause too generally without investigating the facts
in all cases. He says that the early teeth are shed because they
are formed in animals too early, for it is when animals are
practically in their prime that they grow according to Nature,
and suckling is the cause he assigns for their being found too
early. Yet the pig also suckles but does not shed its teeth, and,
further, all the animals with carnivorous dentition suckle, but
some of them do not shed any teeth except the canines, e.g.
lions. This mistake, then, was due to his speaking generally
without examining what happens in all cases; but this is what
we to do, for any one who makes any general statement must
speak of all the particular cases.
2202
2203
teeth are in a thin part, so that they are weak and easily moved.
They grow again because they are shed while the bone is still
growing and the animal is still young enough to grow teeth. A
proof of this is that even the flat teeth grow for a long time, the
last of them cutting the gum at about twenty years of age;
indeed in some cases the last teeth have been grown in quite
old age. This is because there is much nutriment in the broad
part of the bones, whereas the front part being thin soon
reaches perfection and no residual matter is found in it, the
nutriment being consumed in its own growth.
Democritus, however, neglecting the final cause, reduces to
necessity all the operations of Nature. Now they are necessary,
it is true, but yet they are for a final cause and for the sake of
what is best in each case. Thus nothing prevents the teeth from
being formed and being shed in this way; but it is not on
account of these causes but on account of the end (or final
cause); these are causes only in the sense of being the moving
and efficient instruments and the material. So it is reasonable
that Nature should perform most of her operations using breath
as an instrument, for as some instruments serve many uses in
the arts, e.g. the hammer and anvil in the smiths art, so does
breath in the living things formed by Nature. But to say that
necessity is the only cause is much as if we should think that
the water has been drawn off from a dropsical patient on
account of the lancet, not on account of health, for the sake of
which the lancet made the incision.
We have thus spoken of the teeth, saying why some are shed
and grow again, and others not, and generally for what cause
they are formed. And we have spoken of the other affections of
the parts which are found to occur not for any final end but of
necessity and on account of the motive or efficient cause.
2204
Aristotle Metaphysics
[Translated by W. D. Ross]
Book
1
All men by nature desire to know. An indication of this is the
delight we take in our senses; for even apart from their
usefulness they are loved for themselves; and above all others
the sense of sight. For not only with a view to action, but even
when we are not going to do anything, we prefer seeing (one
might say) to everything else. The reason is that this, most of all
the senses, makes us know and brings to light many differences
between things.
By nature animals are born with the faculty of sensation, and
from sensation memory is produced in some of them, though
not in others. And therefore the former are more intelligent and
apt at learning than those which cannot remember; those
which are incapable of hearing sounds are intelligent though
they cannot be taught, e.g. the bee, and any other race of
animals that may be like it; and those which besides memory
have this sense of hearing can be taught.
The animals other than man live by appearances and
memories, and have but little of connected experience; but the
human race lives also by art and reasonings. Now from memory
experience is produced in men; for the several memories of the
same thing produce finally the capacity for a single experience.
And experience seems pretty much like science and art, but
2205
2207
2
Since we are seeking this knowledge, we must inquire of what
kind are the causes and the principles, the knowledge of which
is Wisdom. If one were to take the notions we have about the
wise man, this might perhaps make the answer more evident.
We suppose first, then, that the wise man knows all things, as
far as possible, although he has not knowledge of each of them
in detail; secondly, that he who can learn things that are
difficult, and not easy for man to know, is wise (senseperception is common to all, and therefore easy and no mark of
Wisdom); again, that he who is more exact and more capable of
teaching the causes is wiser, in every branch of knowledge; and
that of the sciences, also, that which is desirable on its own
account and for the sake of knowing it is more of the nature of
Wisdom than that which is desirable on account of its results,
and the superior science is more of the nature of Wisdom than
the ancillary; for the wise man must not be ordered but must
order, and he must not obey another, but the less wise must
obey him.
Such and so many are the notions, then, which we have about
Wisdom and the wise. Now of these characteristics that of
knowing all things must belong to him who has in the highest
degree universal knowledge; for he knows in a sense all the
instances that fall under the universal. And these things, the
2208
most universal, are on the whole the hardest for men to know;
for they are farthest from the senses. And the most exact of the
sciences are those which deal most with first principles; for
those which involve fewer principles are more exact than those
which involve additional principles, e.g. arithmetic than
geometry. But the science which investigates causes is also
instructive, in a higher degree, for the people who instruct us
are those who tell the causes of each thing. And understanding
and knowledge pursued for their own sake are found most in
the knowledge of that which is most knowable (for he who
chooses to know for the sake of knowing will choose most
readily that which is most truly knowledge, and such is the
knowledge of that which is most knowable); and the first
principles and the causes are most knowable; for by reason of
these, and from these, all other things come to be known, and
not these by means of the things subordinate to them. And the
science which knows to what end each thing must be done is
the most authoritative of the sciences, and more authoritative
than any ancillary science; and this end is the good of that
thing, and in general the supreme good in the whole of nature.
Judged by all the tests we have mentioned, then, the name in
question falls to the same science; this must be a science that
investigates the first principles and causes; for the good, i.e. the
end, is one of the causes.
That it is not a science of production is clear even from the
history of the earliest philosophers. For it is owing to their
wonder that men both now begin and at first began to
philosophize; they wondered originally at the obvious
difficulties, then advanced little by little and stated difficulties
about the greater matters, e.g. about the phenomena of the
moon and those of the sun and of the stars, and about the
genesis of the universe. And a man who is puzzled and wonders
thinks himself ignorant (whence even the lover of myth is in a
sense a lover of Wisdom, for the myth is composed of wonders);
2209
2210
3
Evidently we have to acquire knowledge of the original causes
(for we say we know each thing only when we think we
recognize its first cause), and causes are spoken of in four
senses. In one of these we mean the substance, i.e. the essence
(for the why is reducible finally to the definition, and the
ultimate why is a cause and principle); in another the matter
or substratum, in a third the source of the change, and in a
fourth the cause opposed to this, the purpose and the good (for
this is the end of all generation and change). We have studied
these causes sufficiently in our work on nature, but yet let us
call to our aid those who have attacked the investigation of
being and philosophized about reality before us. For obviously
they too speak of certain principles and causes; to go over their
views, then, will be of profit to the present inquiry, for we shall
either find another kind of cause, or be more convinced of the
correctness of those which we now maintain.
2211
2212
rate is said to have declared himself thus about the first cause.
Hippo no one would think fit to include among these thinkers,
because of the paltriness of his thought.
Anaximenes and Diogenes make air prior to water, and the
most primary of the simple bodies, while Hippasus of
Metapontium and Heraclitus of Ephesus say this of fire, and
Empedocles says it of the four elements (adding a fourth-earth
to those which have been named); for these, he says, always
remain and do not come to be, except that they come to be
more or fewer, being aggregated into one and segregated out of
one.
Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, who, though older than
Empedocles, was later in his philosophical activity, says the
principles are infinite in number; for he says almost all the
things that are made of parts like themselves, in the manner of
water or fire, are generated and destroyed in this way, only by
aggregation and segregation, and are not in any other sense
generated or destroyed, but remain eternally.
From these facts one might think that the only cause is the socalled material cause; but as men thus advanced, the very facts
opened the way for them and joined in forcing them to
investigate the subject. However true it may be that all
generation and destruction proceed from some one or (for that
matter) from more elements, why does this happen and what is
the cause? For at least the substratum itself does not make
itself change; e.g. neither the wood nor the bronze causes the
change of either of them, nor does the wood manufacture a bed
and the bronze a statue, but something else is the cause of the
change. And to seek this is to seek the second cause, as we
should say, that from which comes the beginning of the
movement. Now those who at the very beginning set
themselves to this kind of inquiry, and said the substratum was
2213
2214
4
One might suspect that Hesiod was the first to look for such a
thing or some one else who put love or desire among existing
things as a principle, as Parmenides, too, does; for he, in
constructing the genesis of the universe, says:
Love first of all the Gods she planned.
And Hesiod says:
First of all things was chaos made, and then
Broad-breasted earth...
And love, mid all the gods pre-eminent,
which implies that among existing things there must be from
the first a cause which will move things and bring them
together. How these thinkers should be arranged with regard to
priority of discovery let us be allowed to decide later; but since
the contraries of the various forms of good were also perceived
to be present in nature not only order and the beautiful, but
also disorder and the ugly, and bad things in greater number
than good, and ignoble things than beautiful therefore another
thinker introduced friendship and strife, each of the two the
cause of one of these two sets of qualities. For if we were to
follow out the view of Empedocles, and interpret it according to
its meaning and not to its lisping expression, we should find
that friendship is the cause of good things, and strife of bad.
Therefore, if we said that Empedocles in a sense both mentions,
and is the first to mention, the bad and the good as principles,
we should perhaps be right, since the cause of all goods is the
good itself.
2215
2216
5
Contemporaneously with these philosophers and before them,
the so-called Pythagoreans, who were the first to take up
mathematics, not only advanced this study, but also having
been brought up in it they thought its principles were the
principles of all things. Since of these principles numbers are by
nature the first, and in numbers they seemed to see many
resemblances to the things that exist and come into being
more than in fire and earth and water (such and such a
modification of numbers being justice, another being soul and
reason, another being opportunity and similarly almost all
other things being numerically expressible); since, again, they
saw that the modifications and the ratios of the musical scales
2217
2218
2219
2220
6
After the systems we have named came the philosophy of Plato,
which in most respects followed these thinkers, but had
pecullarities that distinguished it from the philosophy of the
Italians. For, having in his youth first become familiar with
Cratylus and with the Heraclitean doctrines (that all sensible
things are ever in a state of flux and there is no knowledge
about them), these views he held even in later years. Socrates,
however, was busying himself about ethical matters and
neglecting the world of nature as a whole but seeking the
universal in these ethical matters, and fixed thought for the
first time on definitions; Plato accepted his teaching, but held
that the problem applied not to sensible things but to entities of
another kind for this reason, that the common definition
could not be a definition of any sensible thing, as they were
always changing. Things of this other sort, then, he called Ideas,
and sensible things, he said, were all named after these, and in
2221
2222
7
Our review of those who have spoken about first principles and
reality and of the way in which they have spoken, has been
concise and summary; but yet we have learnt this much from
them, that of those who speak about principle and cause no
one has mentioned any principle except those which have been
distinguished in our work on nature, but all evidently have
some inkling of them, though only vaguely. For some speak of
the first principle as matter, whether they suppose one or more
2223
2224
8
Those, then, who say the universe is one and posit one kind of
thing as matter, and as corporeal matter which has spatial
magnitude, evidently go astray in many ways. For they posit the
elements of bodies only, not of incorporeal things, though there
are also incorporeal things. And in trying to state the causes of
generation and destruction, and in giving a physical account of
all things, they do away with the cause of movement. Further,
they err in not positing the substance, i.e. the essence, as the
cause of anything, and besides this in lightly calling any of the
simple bodies except earth the first principle, without inquiring
how they are produced out of one anothers I mean fire, water,
earth, and air. For some things are produced out of each other
by combination, others by separation, and this makes the
greatest difference to their priority and posteriority. For (1) in a
way the property of being most elementary of all would seem to
belong to the first thing from which they are produced by
combination, and this property would belong to the most finegrained and subtle of bodies. For this reason those who make
fire the principle would be most in agreement with this
argument. But each of the other thinkers agrees that the
element of corporeal things is of this sort. At least none of those
2225
who named one element claimed that earth was the element,
evidently because of the coarseness of its grain. (Of the other
three elements each has found some judge on its side; for some
maintain that fire, others that water, others that air is the
element. Yet why, after all, do they not name earth also, as most
men do? For people say all things are earth Hesiod says earth
was produced first of corporeal things; so primitive and popular
has the opinion been.) According to this argument, then, no one
would be right who either says the first principle is any of the
elements other than fire, or supposes it to be denser than air
but rarer than water. But (2) if that which is later in generation
is prior in nature, and that which is concocted and compounded
is later in generation, the contrary of what we have been saying
must be true, water must be prior to air, and earth to water.
So much, then, for those who posit one cause such as we
mentioned; but the same is true if one supposes more of these,
as Empedocles says matter of things is four bodies. For he too is
confronted by consequences some of which are the same as
have been mentioned, while others are peculiar to him. For we
see these bodies produced from one another, which implies that
the same body does not always remain fire or earth (we have
spoken about this in our works on nature); and regarding the
cause of movement and the question whether we must posit
one or two, he must be thought to have spoken neither correctly
nor altogether plausibly. And in general, change of quality is
necessarily done away with for those who speak thus, for on
their view cold will not come from hot nor hot from cold. For if
it did there would be something that accepted the contraries
themselves, and there would be some one entity that became
fire and water, which Empedocles denies.
As regards Anaxagoras, if one were to suppose that he said
there were two elements, the supposition would accord
thoroughly with an argument which Anaxagoras himself did
2226
2228
9
Let us leave the Pythagoreans for the present; for it is enough to
have touched on them as much as we have done. But as for
those who posit the Ideas as causes, firstly, in seeking to grasp
the causes of the things around us, they introduced others
equal in number to these, as if a man who wanted to count
things thought he would not be able to do it while they were
few, but tried to count them when he had added to their
number. For the Forms are practically equal to or not fewer
than the things, in trying to explain which these thinkers
proceeded from them to the Forms. For to each thing there
answers an entity which has the same name and exists apart
from the substances, and so also in the case of all other groups
2229
there is a one over many, whether the many are in this world or
are eternal.
Further, of the ways in which we prove that the Forms exist,
none is convincing; for from some no inference necessarily
follows, and from some arise Forms even of things of which we
think there are no Forms. For according to the arguments from
the existence of the sciences there will be Forms of all things of
which there are sciences and according to the one over many
argument there will be Forms even of negations, and according
to the argument that there is an object for thought even when
the thing has perished, there will be Forms of perishable things;
for we have an image of these. Further, of the more accurate
arguments, some lead to Ideas of relations, of which we say
there is no independent class, and others introduce the third
man.
And in general the arguments for the Forms destroy the things
for whose existence we are more zealous than for the existence
of the Ideas; for it follows that not the dyad but number is first,
i.e. that the relative is prior to the absolute, besides all the
other points on which certain people by following out the
opinions held about the Ideas have come into conflict with the
principles of the theory.
Further, according to the assumption on which our belief in the
Ideas rests, there will be Forms not only of substances but also
of many other things (for the concept is single not only in the
case of substances but also in the other cases, and there are
sciences not only of substance but also of other things, and a
thousand other such difficulties confront them). But according
to the necessities of the case and the opinions held about the
Forms, if Forms can be shared in there must be Ideas of
substances only. For they are not shared in incidentally, but a
thing must share in its Form as in something not predicated of
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
10
It is evident, then, even from what we have said before, that all
men seem to seek the causes named in the Physics, and that we
cannot name any beyond these; but they seek these vaguely;
and though in a sense they have all been described before, in a
2236
sense they have not been described at all. For the earliest
philosophy is, on all subjects, like one who lisps, since it is
young and in its beginnings. For even Empedocles says bone
exists by virtue of the ratio in it. Now this is the essence and the
substance of the thing. But it is similarly necessary that flesh
and each of the other tissues should be the ratio of its elements,
or that not one of them should; for it is on account of this that
both flesh and bone and everything else will exist, and not on
account of the matter, which he names, fire and earth and
water and air. But while he would necessarily have agreed if
another had said this, he has not said it clearly.
On these questions our views have been expressed before; but
let us return to enumerate the difficulties that might be raised
on these same points; for perhaps we may get from them some
help towards our later difficulties.
Book
1
The investigation of the truth is in one way hard, in another
easy. An indication of this is found in the fact that no one is able
to attain the truth adequately, while, on the other hand, we do
not collectively fail, but every one says something true about
the nature of things, and while individually we contribute little
or nothing to the truth, by the union of all a considerable
amount is amassed. Therefore, since the truth seems to be like
2237
the proverbial door, which no one can fail to hit, in this respect
it must be easy, but the fact that we can have a whole truth and
not the particular part we aim at shows the difficulty of it.
Perhaps, too, as difficulties are of two kinds, the cause of the
present difficulty is not in the facts but in us. For as the eyes of
bats are to the blaze of day, so is the reason in our soul to the
things which are by nature most evident of all.
It is just that we should be grateful, not only to those with
whose views we may agree, but also to those who have
expressed more superficial views; for these also contributed
something, by developing before us the powers of thought. It is
true that if there had been no Timotheus we should have been
without much of our lyric poetry; but if there had been no
Phrynis there would have been no Timotheus. The same holds
good of those who have expressed views about the truth; for
from some thinkers we have inherited certain opinions, while
the others have been responsible for the appearance of the
former.
It is right also that philosophy should be called knowledge of
the truth. For the end of theoretical knowledge is truth, while
that of practical knowledge is action (for even if they consider
how things are, practical men do not study the eternal, but what
is relative and in the present). Now we do not know a truth
without its cause; and a thing has a quality in a higher degree
than other things if in virtue of it the similar quality belongs to
the other things as well (e.g. fire is the hottest of things; for it is
the cause of the heat of all other things); so that that causes
derivative truths to be true is most true. Hence the principles of
eternal things must be always most true (for they are not
merely sometimes true, nor is there any cause of their being,
but they themselves are the cause of the being of other things),
2238
2
But evidently there is a first principle, and the causes of things
are neither an infinite series nor infinitely various in kind. For
neither can one thing proceed from another, as from matter, ad
infinitum (e.g. flesh from earth, earth from air, air from fire, and
so on without stopping), nor can the sources of movement form
an endless series (man for instance being acted on by air, air by
the sun, the sun by Strife, and so on without limit). Similarly the
final causes cannot go on ad infinitum, walking being for the
sake of health, this for the sake of happiness, happiness for the
sake of something else, and so one thing always for the sake of
another. And the case of the essence is similar. For in the case of
intermediates, which have a last term and a term prior to them,
the prior must be the cause of the later terms. For if we had to
say which of the three is the cause, we should say the first;
surely not the last, for the final term is the cause of none; nor
even the intermediate, for it is the cause only of one. (It makes
no difference whether there is one intermediate or more, nor
whether they are infinite or finite in number.) But of series
which are infinite in this way, and of the infinite in general, all
the parts down to that now present are alike intermediates; so
that if there is no first there is no cause at all.
Nor can there be an infinite process downwards, with a
beginning in the upward direction, so that water should proceed
from fire, earth from water, and so always some other kind
should be produced. For one thing comes from another in two
ways not in the sense in which from means after (as we say
2239
from the Isthmian games come the Olympian), but either (i) as
the man comes from the boy, by the boys changing, or (ii) as air
comes from water. By as the man comes from the boy we
mean as that which has come to be from that which is coming
to be or as that which is finished from that which is being
achieved (for as becoming is between being and not being, so
that which is becoming is always between that which is and
that which is not; for the learner is a man of science in the
making, and this is what is meant when we say that from a
learner a man of science is being made); on the other hand,
coming from another thing as water comes from air implies the
destruction of the other thing. This is why changes of the
former kind are not reversible, and the boy does not come from
the man (for it is not that which comes to be something that
comes to be as a result of coming to be, but that which exists
after the coming to be; for it is thus that the day, too, comes
from the morning in the sense that it comes after the
morning; which is the reason why the morning cannot come
from the day); but changes of the other kind are reversible. But
in both cases it is impossible that the number of terms should
be infinite. For terms of the former kind, being intermediates,
must have an end, and terms of the latter kind change back into
one another, for the destruction of either is the generation of
the other.
At the same time it is impossible that the first cause, being
eternal, should be destroyed; for since the process of becoming
is not infinite in the upward direction, that which is the first
thing by whose destruction something came to be must be noneternal.
Further, the final cause is an end, and that sort of end which is
not for the sake of something else, but for whose sake
everything else is; so that if there is to be a last term of this sort,
the process will not be infinite; but if there is no such term,
2240
there will be no final cause, but those who maintain the infinite
series eliminate the Good without knowing it (yet no one would
try to do anything if he were not going to come to a limit); nor
would there be reason in the world; the reasonable man, at
least, always acts for a purpose, and this is a limit; for the end is
a limit.
But the essence, also, cannot be reduced to another definition
which is fuller in expression. For the original definition is
always more of a definition, and not the later one; and in a
series in which the first term has not the required character, the
next has not it either. Further, those who speak thus destroy
science; for it is not possible to have this till one comes to the
unanalysable terms. And knowledge becomes impossible; for
how can one apprehend things that are infinite in this way? For
this is not like the case of the line, to whose divisibility there is
no stop, but which we cannot think if we do not make a stop
(for which reason one who is tracing the infinitely divisible line
cannot be counting the possibilities of section), but the whole
line also must be apprehended by something in us that does not
move from part to part. Again, nothing infinite can exist; and
if it could, at least the notion of infinity is not infinite.
But if the kinds of causes had been infinite in number, then also
knowledge would have been impossible; for we think we know,
only when we have ascertained the causes, that but that which
is infinite by addition cannot be gone through in a finite time.
3
The effect which lectures produce on a hearer depends on his
habits; for we demand the language we are accustomed to, and
that which is different from this seems not in keeping but
2241
2242
Book
1
We must, with a view to the science which we are seeking, first
recount the subjects that should be first discussed. These
include both the other opinions that some have held on the first
principles, and any point besides these that happens to have
been overlooked. For those who wish to get clear of difficulties
it is advantageous to discuss the difficulties well; for the
subsequent free play of thought implies the solution of the
previous difficulties, and it is not possible to untie a knot of
which one does not know. But the difficulty of our thinking
points to a knot in the object; for in so far as our thought is in
difficulties, it is in like case with those who are bound; for in
either case it is impossible to go forward. Hence one should
have surveyed all the difficulties beforehand, both for the
purposes we have stated and because people who inquire
without first stating the difficulties are like those who do not
know where they have to go; besides, a man does not otherwise
know even whether he has at any given time found what he is
looking for or not; for the end is not clear to such a man, while
to him who has first discussed the difficulties it is clear. Further,
he who has heard all the contending arguments, as if they were
the parties to a case, must be in a better position for judging.
The first problem concerns the subject which we discussed in
our prefatory remarks. It is this (1) whether the investigation
of the causes belongs to one or to more sciences, and (2)
whether such a science should survey only the first principles
of substance, or also the principles on which all men base their
proofs, e.g. whether it is possible at the same time to assert and
2243
deny one and the same thing or not, and all other such
questions; and (3) if the science in question deals with
substance, whether one science deals with all substances, or
more than one, and if more, whether all are akin, or some of
them must be called forms of Wisdom and the others
something else. And (4) this itself is also one of the things that
must be discussed whether sensible substances alone should
be said to exist or others also besides them, and whether these
others are of one kind or there are several classes of substances,
as is supposed by those who believe both in Forms and in
mathematical objects intermediate between these and sensible
things. Into these questions, then, as we say, we must inquire,
and also (5) whether our investigation is concerned only with
substances or also with the essential attributes of substances.
Further, with regard to the same and other and like and unlike
and contrariety, and with regard to prior and posterior and all
other such terms about which the dialecticians try to inquire,
starting their investigation from probable premises only,
whose business is it to inquire into all these? Further, we must
discuss the essential attributes of these themselves; and we
must ask not only what each of these is, but also whether one
thing always has one contrary. Again (6), are the principles and
elements of things the genera, or the parts present in each
thing, into which it is divided; and (7) if they are the genera, are
they the genera that are predicated proximately of the
individuals, or the highest genera, e.g. is animal or man the first
principle and the more independent of the individual instance?
And (8) we must inquire and discuss especially whether there is,
besides the matter, any thing that is a cause in itself or not, and
whether this can exist apart or not, and whether it is one or
more in number, and whether there is something apart from
the concrete thing (by the concrete thing I mean the matter
with something already predicated of it), or there is nothing
apart, or there is something in some cases though not in others,
2244
and what sort of cases these are. Again (9) we ask whether the
principles are limited in number or in kind, both those in the
definitions and those in the substratum; and (10) whether the
principles of perishable and of imperishable things are the same
or different; and whether they are all imperishable or those of
perishable things are perishable. Further (11) there is the
question which is hardest of all and most perplexing, whether
unity and being, as the Pythagoreans and Plato said, are not
attributes of something else but the substance of existing
things, or this is not the case, but the substratum is something
else, as Empedocles says, love; as some one else says, fire;
while another says water or air. Again (12) we ask whether the
principles are universal or like individual things, and (13)
whether they exist potentially or actually, and further, whether
they are potential or actual in any other sense than in reference
to movement; for these questions also would present much
difficulty. Further (14), are numbers and lines and figures and
points a kind of substance or not, and if they are substances are
they separate from sensible things or present in them? With
regard to all these matters not only is it hard to get possession
of the truth, but it is not easy even to think out the difficulties
well.
2
(1) First then with regard to what we mentioned first, does it
belong to one or to more sciences to investigate all the kinds of
causes? How could it belong to one science to recognize the
principles if these are not contrary?
Further, there are many things to which not all the principles
pertain. For how can a principle of change or the nature of the
2245
2248
2249
3
(6) Apart from the great difficulty of stating the case truly with
regard to these matters, it is very hard to say, with regard to the
first principles, whether it is the genera that should be taken as
elements and principles, or rather the primary constituents of a
thing; e.g. it is the primary parts of which articulate sounds
consist that are thought to be elements and principles of
articulate sound, not the common genus-articulate sound; and
we give the name of elements to those geometrical
propositions, the proofs of which are implied in the proofs of
the others, either of all or of most. Further, both those who say
there are several elements of corporeal things and those who
say there is one, say the parts of which bodies are compounded
and consist are principles; e.g. Empedocles says fire and water
and the rest are the constituent elements of things, but does
not describe these as genera of existing things. Besides this, if
we want to examine the nature of anything else, we examine
the parts of which, e.g. a bed consists and how they are put
together, and then we know its nature.
2251
2252
2253
4
(8) There is a difficulty connected with these, the hardest of all
and the most necessary to examine, and of this the discussion
now awaits us. If, on the one hand, there is nothing apart from
individual things, and the individuals are infinite in number,
how then is it possible to get knowledge of the infinite
individuals? For all things that we come to know, we come to
know in so far as they have some unity and identity, and in so
far as some attribute belongs to them universally.
But if this is necessary, and there must be something apart from
the individuals, it will be necessary that the genera exist apart
from the individuals, either the lowest or the highest genera;
but we found by discussion just now that this is impossible.
Further, if we admit in the fullest sense that something exists
apart from the concrete thing, whenever something is
predicated of the matter, must there, if there is something
apart, be something apart from each set of individuals, or from
some and not from others, or from none? (A) If there is nothing
apart from individuals, there will be no object of thought, but all
things will be objects of sense, and there will not be knowledge
of anything, unless we say that sensation is knowledge. Further,
nothing will be eternal or unmovable; for all perceptible things
perish and are in movement. But if there is nothing eternal,
neither can there be a process of coming to be; for there must
be something that comes to be, i.e. from which something
comes to be, and the ultimate term in this series cannot have
come to be, since the series has a limit and since nothing can
come to be out of that which is not. Further, if generation and
movement exist there must also be a limit; for no movement is
infinite, but every movement has an end, and that which is
incapable of completing its coming to be cannot be in process of
2254
2255
everything, except the One; for all things excepting God proceed
from strife. At least he says:
From which all that was and is and will be hereafter
Trees, and men and women, took their growth,
And beasts and birds and water-nourished fish,
And long-aged gods.
The implication is evident even apart from these words; for if
strife had not been present in things, all things would have been
one, according to him; for when they have come together, then
strife stood outermost. Hence it also follows on his theory that
God most blessed is less wise than all others; for he does not
know all the elements; for he has in him no strife, and
knowledge is of the like by the like. For by earth, he says,
We see earth, by water water,
By ether godlike ether, by fire wasting fire,
Love by love, and strife by gloomy strife.
But and this is the point we started from this at least is
evident, that on his theory it follows that strife is as much the
cause of existence as of destruction. And similarly love is not
specially the cause of existence; for in collecting things into the
One it destroys all other things. And at the same time
Empedocles mentions no cause of the change itself, except that
things are so by nature.
But when strife at last waxed great in the limbs of the Sphere,
And sprang to assert its rights as the time was fulfilled
Which is fixed for them in turn by a mighty oath.
2257
2258
2259
5
(14) A question connected with these is whether numbers and
bodies and planes and points are substances of a kind, or not. If
they are not, it baffles us to say what being is and what the
2260
things are so more than body, but these are not even instances
of substance, it baffles us to say what being is and what the
substance of things is. For besides what has been said, the
questions of generation and instruction confront us with
further paradoxes. For if substance, not having existed before,
now exists, or having existed before, afterwards does not exist,
this change is thought to be accompanied by a process of
becoming or perishing; but points and lines and surfaces cannot
be in process either of becoming or of perishing, when they at
one time exist and at another do not. For when bodies come
into contact or are divided, their boundaries simultaneously
become one in the one case when they touch, and two in the
other when they are divided; so that when they have been put
together one boundary does not exist but has perished, and
when they have been divided the boundaries exist which before
did not exist (for it cannot be said that the point, which is
indivisible, was divided into two). And if the boundaries come
into being and cease to be, from what do they come into being?
A similar account may also be given of the now in time; for
this also cannot be in process of coming into being or of ceasing
to be, but yet seems to be always different, which shows that it
is not a substance. And evidently the same is true of points and
lines and planes; for the same argument applies, since they are
all alike either limits or divisions.
6
In general one might raise the question why after all, besides
perceptible things and the intermediates, we have to look for
another class of things, i.e. the Forms which we posit. If it is for
this reason, because the objects of mathematics, while they
differ from the things in this world in some other respect, differ
2262
not at all in that there are many of the same kind, so that their
first principles cannot be limited in number (just as the
elements of all the language in this sensible world are not
limited in number, but in kind, unless one takes the elements of
this individual syllable or of this individual articulate sound
whose elements will be limited even in number; so is it also in
the case of the intermediates; for there also the members of the
same kind are infinite in number), so that if there are not
besides perceptible and mathematical objects others such as
some maintain the Forms to be, there will be no substance
which is one in number, but only in kind, nor will the first
principles of things be determinate in number, but only in kind:
if then this must be so, the Forms also must therefore be held
to exist. Even if those who support this view do not express it
articulately, still this is what they mean, and they must be
maintaining the Forms just because each of the Forms is a
substance and none is by accident.
But if we are to suppose both that the Forms exist and that the
principles are one in number, not in kind, we have mentioned
the impossible results that necessarily follow.
(13) Closely connected with this is the question whether the
elements exist potentially or in some other manner. If in some
other way, there will be something else prior to the first
principles; for the potency is prior to the actual cause, and it is
not necessary for everything potential to be actual. But if the
elements exist potentially, it is possible that everything that is
should not be. For even that which is not yet is capable of being;
for that which is not comes to be, but nothing that is incapable
of being comes to be.
(12) We must not only raise these questions about the first
principles, but also ask whether they are universal or what we
call individuals. If they are universal, they will not be
2263
Book
1
There is a science which investigates being as being and the
attributes which belong to this in virtue of its own nature. Now
this is not the same as any of the so-called special sciences; for
none of these others treats universally of being as being. They
cut off a part of being and investigate the attribute of this part;
this is what the mathematical sciences for instance do. Now
since we are seeking the first principles and the highest causes,
clearly there must be some thing to which these belong in
virtue of its own nature. If then those who sought the elements
of existing things were seeking these same principles, it is
necessary that the elements must be elements of being not by
2264
2
There are many senses in which a thing may be said to be, but
all that is is related to one central point, one definite kind of
thing, and is not said to be by a mere ambiguity. Everything
which is healthy is related to health, one thing in the sense that
it preserves health, another in the sense that it produces it,
another in the sense that it is a symptom of health, another
because it is capable of it. And that which is medical is relative
to the medical art, one thing being called medical because it
possesses it, another because it is naturally adapted to it,
another because it is a function of the medical art. And we shall
find other words used similarly to these. So, too, there are many
senses in which a thing is said to be, but all refer to one
starting-point; some things are said to be because they are
substances, others because they are affections of substance,
others because they are a process towards substance, or
destructions or privations or qualities of substance, or
productive or generative of substance, or of things which are
relative to substance, or negations of one of these thing of
substance itself. It is for this reason that we say even of nonbeing that it is nonbeing. As, then, there is one science which
deals with all healthy things, the same applies in the other
cases also. For not only in the case of things which have one
common notion does the investigation belong to one science,
but also in the case of things which are related to one common
nature; for even these in a sense have one common notion. It is
clear then that it is the work of one science also to study the
things that are, qua being. But everywhere science deals
2265
2266
qua being, and the attributes which belong to it qua being, and
the same science will examine not only substances but also
their attributes, both those above named and the concepts
prior and posterior, genus and species, whole and part,
and the others of this sort.
3
We must state whether it belongs to one or to different sciences
to inquire into the truths which are in mathematics called
axioms, and into substance. Evidently, the inquiry into these
also belongs to one science, and that the science of the
philosopher; for these truths hold good for everything that is,
and not for some special genus apart from others. And all men
use them, because they are true of being qua being and each
genus has being. But men use them just so far as to satisfy their
purposes; that is, as far as the genus to which their
demonstrations refer extends. Therefore since these truths
clearly hold good for all things qua being (for this is what is
common to them), to him who studies being qua being belongs
the inquiry into these as well. And for this reason no one who is
conducting a special inquiry tries to say anything about their
truth or falsity, neither the geometer nor the arithmetician.
Some natural philosophers indeed have done so, and their
procedure was intelligible enough; for they thought that they
alone were inquiring about the whole of nature and about
being. But since there is one kind of thinker who is above even
the natural philosopher (for nature is only one particular genus
of being), the discussion of these truths also will belong to him
whose inquiry is universal and deals with primary substance.
Physics also is a kind of Wisdom, but it is not the first kind.
And the attempts of some of those who discuss the terms on
2270
same time. It is for this reason that all who are carrying out a
demonstration reduce it to this as an ultimate belief; for this is
naturally the starting-point even for all the other axioms.
4
There are some who, as we said, both themselves assert that it
is possible for the same thing to be and not to be, and say that
people can judge this to be the case. And among others many
writers about nature use this language. But we have now
posited that it is impossible for anything at the same time to be
and not to be, and by this means have shown that this is the
most indisputable of all principles. Some indeed demand that
even this shall be demonstrated, but this they do through want
of education, for not to know of what things one should
demand demonstration, and of what one should not, argues
want of education. For it is impossible that there should be
demonstration of absolutely everything (there would be an
infinite regress, so that there would still be no demonstration);
but if there are things of which one should not demand
demonstration, these persons could not say what principle they
maintain to be more self-evident than the present one.
We can, however, demonstrate negatively even that this view is
impossible, if our opponent will only say something; and if he
says nothing, it is absurd to seek to give an account of our views
to one who cannot give an account of anything, in so far as he
cannot do so. For such a man, as such, is from the start no
better than a vegetable. Now negative demonstration I
distinguish from demonstration proper, because in a
demonstration one might be thought to be begging the
question, but if another person is responsible for the
2272
2274
since even being white and being a man are different; for the
former terms are much more different so that they must a
fortiori mean different things. And if any one says that white
means one and the same thing as man, again we shall say the
same as what was said before, that it would follow that all
things are one, and not only opposites. But if this is impossible,
then what we have maintained will follow, if our opponent will
only answer our question.
And if, when one asks the question simply, he adds the
contradictories, he is not answering the question. For there is
nothing to prevent the same thing from being both a man and
white and countless other things: but still, if one asks whether
it is or is not true to say that this is a man, our opponent must
give an answer which means one thing, and not add that it is
also white and large. For, besides other reasons, it is impossible
to enumerate its accidental attributes, which are infinite in
number; let him, then, enumerate either all or none. Similarly,
therefore, even if the same thing is a thousand times a man and
a not-man, he must not, in answering the question whether this
is a man, add that it is also at the same time a not-man, unless
he is bound to add also all the other accidents, all that the
subject is or is not; and if he does this, he is not observing the
rules of argument.
And in general those who say this do away with substance and
essence. For they must say that all attributes are accidents, and
that there is no such thing as being essentially a man or an
animal. For if there is to be any such thing as being essentially
a man this will not be being a not-man or not being a man
(yet these are negations of it); for there was one thing which it
meant, and this was the substance of something. And denoting
the substance of a thing means that the essence of the thing is
nothing else. But if its being essentially a man is to be the same
as either being essentially a not-man or essentially not being a
2275
2277
2278
to assert and deny the same thing truly at the same time. But
perhaps they might say this was the very question at issue.
Again, is he in error who judges either that the thing is so or
that it is not so, and is he right who judges both? If he is right,
what can they mean by saying that the nature of existing things
is of this kind? And if he is not right, but more right than he
who judges in the other way, being will already be of a definite
nature, and this will be true, and not at the same time also not
true. But if all are alike both wrong and right, one who is in this
condition will not be able either to speak or to say anything
intelligible; for he says at the same time both yes and no. And
if he makes no judgement but thinks and does not think,
indifferently, what difference will there be between him and a
vegetable? Thus, then, it is in the highest degree evident that
neither any one of those who maintain this view nor any one
else is really in this position. For why does a man walk to
Megara and not stay at home, when he thinks he ought to be
walking there? Why does he not walk early some morning into
a well or over a precipice, if one happens to be in his way? Why
do we observe him guarding against this, evidently because he
does not think that falling in is alike good and not good?
Evidently, then, he judges one thing to be better and another
worse. And if this is so, he must also judge one thing to be a
man and another to be not-a-man, one thing to be sweet and
another to be not-sweet. For he does not aim at and judge all
things alike, when, thinking it desirable to drink water or to see
a man, he proceeds to aim at these things; yet he ought, if the
same thing were alike a man and not-a-man. But, as was said,
there is no one who does not obviously avoid some things and
not others. Therefore, as it seems, all men make unqualified
judgements, if not about all things, still about what is better and
worse. And if this is not knowledge but opinion, they should be
all the more anxious about the truth, as a sick man should be
more anxious about his health than one who is healthy; for he
2279
who has opinions is, in comparison with the man who knows,
not in a healthy state as far as the truth is concerned.
Again, however much all things may be so and not so, still
there is a more and a less in the nature of things; for we should
not say that two and three are equally even, nor is he who
thinks four things are five equally wrong with him who thinks
they are a thousand. If then they are not equally wrong,
obviously one is less wrong and therefore more right. If then
that which has more of any quality is nearer the norm, there
must be some truth to which the more true is nearer. And even
if there is not, still there is already something better founded
and liker the truth, and we shall have got rid of the unqualified
doctrine which would prevent us from determining anything in
our thought.
5
From the same opinion proceeds the doctrine of Protagoras, and
both doctrines must be alike true or alike untrue. For on the one
hand, if all opinions and appearances are true, all statements
must be at the same time true and false. For many men hold
beliefs in which they conflict with one another, and think those
mistaken who have not the same opinions as themselves; so
that the same thing must both be and not be. And on the other
hand, if this is so, all opinions must be true; for those who are
mistaken and those who are right are opposed to one another in
their opinions; if, then, reality is such as the view in question
supposes, all will be right in their beliefs.
Evidently, then, both doctrines proceed from the same way of
thinking. But the same method of discussion must not be used
with all opponents; for some need persuasion, and others
2280
2281
And again, they say that many of the other animals receive
impressions contrary to ours; and that even to the senses of
each individual, things do not always seem the same. Which,
then, of these impressions are true and which are false is not
obvious; for the one set is no more true than the other, but both
are alike. And this is why Democritus, at any rate, says that
either there is no truth or to us at least it is not evident.
And in general it is because these thinkers suppose knowledge
to be sensation, and this to be a physical alteration, that they
say that what appears to our senses must be true; for it is for
these reasons that both Empedocles and Democritus and, one
may almost say, all the others have fallen victims to opinions of
this sort. For Empedocles says that when men change their
condition they change their knowledge;
For wisdom increases in men according to what is before them.
And elsewhere he says that:
So far as their nature changed, so far to them always
Came changed thoughts into mind.
And Parmenides also expresses himself in the same way:
For as at each time the much-bent limbs are composed,
So is the mind of men; for in each and all men
Tis one thing thinks the substance of their limbs:
For that of which there is more is thought.
A saying of Anaxagoras to some of his friends is also related,
that things would be for them such as they supposed them to
be. And they say that Homer also evidently had this opinion,
because he made Hector, when he was unconscious from the
2282
2283
6
There are, both among those who have these convictions and
among those who merely profess these views, some who raise a
difficulty by asking, who is to be the judge of the healthy man,
and in general who is likely to judge rightly on each class of
questions. But such inquiries are like puzzling over the question
whether we are now asleep or awake. And all such questions
have the same meaning. These people demand that a reason
shall be given for everything; for they seek a starting-point, and
they seek to get this by demonstration, while it is obvious from
their actions that they have no conviction. But their mistake is
what we have stated it to be; they seek a reason for things for
which no reason can be given; for the starting-point of
demonstration is not demonstration.
These, then, might be easily persuaded of this truth, for it is not
difficult to grasp; but those who seek merely compulsion in
argument seek what is impossible; for they demand to be
allowed to contradict themselves a claim which contradicts
itself from the very first. But if not all things are relative, but
some are self-existent, not everything that appears will be true;
for that which appears is apparent to some one; so that he who
says all things that appear are true, makes all things relative.
And, therefore, those who ask for an irresistible argument, and
at the same time demand to be called to account for their views,
must guard themselves by saying that the truth is not that what
appears exists, but that what appears exists for him to whom it
2286
appears, and when, and to the sense to which, and under the
conditions under which it appears. And if they give an account
of their view, but do not give it in this way, they will soon find
themselves contradicting themselves. For it is possible that the
same thing may appear to be honey to the sight, but not to the
taste, and that, since we have two eyes, things may not appear
the same to each, if their sight is unlike. For to those who for
the reasons named some time ago say that what appears is
true, and therefore that all things are alike false and true, for
things do not appear either the same to all men or always the
same to the same man, but often have contrary appearances at
the same time (for touch says there are two objects when we
cross our fingers, while sight says there is one) to these we
shall say yes, but not to the same sense and in the same part of
it and under the same conditions and at the same time, so that
what appears will be with these qualifications true. But perhaps
for this reason those who argue thus not because they feel a
difficulty but for the sake of argument, should say that this is
not true, but true for this man. And as has been said before, they
must make everything relative relative to opinion and
perception, so that nothing either has come to be or will be
without some ones first thinking so. But if things have come to
be or will be, evidently not all things will be relative to opinion.
Again, if a thing is one, it is in relation to one thing or to a
definite number of things; and if the same thing is both half
and equal, it is not to the double that the equal is correlative. If,
then, in relation to that which thinks, man and that which is
thought are the same, man will not be that which thinks, but
only that which is thought. And if each thing is to be relative to
that which thinks, that which thinks will be relative to an
infinity of specifically different things.
Let this, then, suffice to show (1) that the most indisputable of
all beliefs is that contradictory statements are not at the same
time true, and (2) what consequences follow from the assertion
2287
that they are, and (3) why people do assert this. Now since it is
impossible that contradictories should be at the same time true
of the same thing, obviously contraries also cannot belong at
the same time to the same thing. For of contraries, one is a
privation no less than it is a contrary and a privation of the
essential nature; and privation is the denial of a predicate to a
determinate genus. If, then, it is impossible to affirm and deny
truly at the same time, it is also impossible that contraries
should belong to a subject at the same time, unless both belong
to it in particular relations, or one in a particular relation and
one without qualification.
7
But on the other hand there cannot be an intermediate between
contradictories, but of one subject we must either affirm or
deny any one predicate. This is clear, in the first place, if we
define what the true and the false are. To say of what is that it is
not, or of what is not that it is, is false, while to say of what is
that it is, and of what is not that it is not, is true; so that he who
says of anything that it is, or that it is not, will say either what is
true or what is false; but neither what is nor what is not is said
to be or not to be. Again, the intermediate between the
contradictories will be so either in the way in which grey is
between black and white, or as that which is neither man nor
horse is between man and horse. (a) If it were of the latter kind,
it could not change into the extremes (for change is from notgood to good, or from good to not-good), but as a matter of fact
when there is an intermediate it is always observed to change
into the extremes. For there is no change except to opposites
and to their intermediates. (b) But if it is really intermediate, in
this way too there would have to be a change to white, which
2288
was not from not-white; but as it is, this is never seen. Again,
every object of understanding or reason the understanding
either affirms or denies this is obvious from the definition
whenever it says what is true or false. When it connects in one
way by assertion or negation, it says what is true, and when it
does so in another way, what is false. Again, there must be an
intermediate between all contradictories, if one is not arguing
merely for the sake of argument; so that it will be possible for a
man to say what is neither true nor untrue, and there will be a
middle between that which is and that which is not, so that
there will also be a kind of change intermediate between
generation and destruction. Again, in all classes in which the
negation of an attribute involves the assertion of its contrary,
even in these there will be an intermediate; for instance, in the
sphere of numbers there will be number which is neither odd
nor not-odd. But this is impossible, as is obvious from the
definition. Again, the process will go on ad infinitum, and the
number of realities will be not only half as great again, but even
greater. For again it will be possible to deny this intermediate
with reference both to its assertion and to its negation, and this
new term will be some definite thing; for its essence is
something different. Again, when a man, on being asked
whether a thing is white, says no, he has denied nothing
except that it is; and its not being is a negation.
Some people have acquired this opinion as other paradoxical
opinions have been acquired; when men cannot refute eristical
arguments, they give in to the argument and agree that the
conclusion is true. This, then, is why some express this view;
others do so because they demand a reason for everything. And
the starting-point in dealing with all such people is definition.
Now the definition rests on the necessity of their meaning
something; for the form of words of which the word is a sign
will be its definition. While the doctrine of Heraclitus, that all
things are and are not, seems to make everything true, that of
2289
8
In view of these distinctions it is obvious that the one-sided
theories which some people express about all things cannot be
valid on the one hand the theory that nothing is true (for, say
they, there is nothing to prevent every statement from being like
the statement the diagonal of a square is commensurate with
the side), on the other hand the theory that everything is true.
These views are practically the same as that of Heraclitus; for
he who says that all things are true and all are false also makes
each of these statements separately, so that since they are
impossible, the double statement must be impossible too.
Again, there are obviously contradictories which cannot be at
the same time true nor on the other hand can all statements
be false; yet this would seem more possible in the light of what
has been said. But against all such views we must postulate, as
we said above, not that something is or is not, but that
something has a meaning, so that we must argue from a
definition, viz. by assuming what falsity or truth means. If that
which it is true to affirm is nothing other than that which it is
false to deny, it is impossible that all statements should be false;
for one side of the contradiction must be true. Again, if it is
necessary with regard to everything either to assert or to deny
it, it is impossible that both should be false; for it is one side of
the contradiction that is false. Therefore all such views are
also exposed to the often expressed objection, that they destroy
themselves. For he who says that everything is true makes even
2290
the statement contrary to his own true, and therefore his own
not true (for the contrary statement denies that it is true), while
he who says everything is false makes himself also false. And
if the former person excepts the contrary statement, saying it
alone is not true, while the latter excepts his own as being not
false, none the less they are driven to postulate the truth or
falsity of an infinite number of statements; for that which says
the true statement is true is true, and this process will go on to
infinity.
Evidently, again, those who say all things are at rest are not
right, nor are those who say all things are in movement. For if
all things are at rest, the same statements will always be true
and the same always false, but this obviously changes; for he
who makes a statement, himself at one time was not and again
will not be. And if all things are in motion, nothing will be true;
everything therefore will be false. But it has been shown that
this is impossible. Again, it must be that which is that changes;
for change is from something to something. But again it is not
the case that all things are at rest or in motion sometimes, and
nothing for ever; for there is something which always moves
the things that are in motion, and the first mover is itself
unmoved.
2291
Book
1
Beginning means (1) that part of a thing from which one would
start first, e.g a line or a road has a beginning in either of the
contrary directions. (2) That from which each thing would best
be originated, e.g. even in learning we must sometimes begin
not from the first point and the beginning of the subject, but
from the point from which we should learn most easily. (4) That
from which, as an immanent part, a thing first comes to be, e,g,
as the keel of a ship and the foundation of a house, while in
animals some suppose the heart, others the brain, others some
other part, to be of this nature. (4) That from which, not as an
immanent part, a thing first comes to be, and from which the
movement or the change naturally first begins, as a child comes
from its father and its mother, and a fight from abusive
language. (5) That at whose will that which is moved is moved
and that which changes changes, e.g. the magistracies in cities,
and oligarchies and monarchies and tyrannies, are called
arhchai, and so are the arts, and of these especially the
architectonic arts. (6) That from which a thing can first be
known, this also is called the beginning of the thing, e.g. the
hypotheses are the beginnings of demonstrations. (Causes are
spoken of in an equal number of senses; for all causes are
beginnings.) It is common, then, to all beginnings to be the first
point from which a thing either is or comes to be or is known;
but of these some are immanent in the thing and others are
outside. Hence the nature of a thing is a beginning, and so is the
element of a thing, and thought and will, and essence, and the
final cause for the good and the beautiful are the beginning
both of the knowledge and of the movement of many things.
2292
2
Cause means (1) that from which, as immanent material, a
thing comes into being, e.g. the bronze is the cause of the statue
and the silver of the saucer, and so are the classes which
include these. (2) The form or pattern, i.e. the definition of the
essence, and the classes which include this (e.g. the ratio 2:1
and number in general are causes of the octave), and the parts
included in the definition. (3) That from which the change or the
resting from change first begins; e.g. the adviser is a cause of
the action, and the father a cause of the child, and in general
the maker a cause of the thing made and the change-producing
of the changing. (4) The end, i.e. that for the sake of which a
thing is; e.g. health is the cause of walking. For Why does one
walk? we say; that one may be healthy; and in speaking thus
we think we have given the cause. The same is true of all the
means that intervene before the end, when something else has
put the process in motion, as e.g. thinning or purging or drugs
or instruments intervene before health is reached; for all these
are for the sake of the end, though they differ from one another
in that some are instruments and others are actions.
These, then, are practically all the senses in which causes are
spoken of, and as they are spoken of in several senses it follows
both that there are several causes of the same thing, and in no
accidental sense (e.g. both the art of sculpture and the bronze
are causes of the statue not in respect of anything else but qua
statue; not, however, in the same way, but the one as matter
and the other as source of the movement), and that things can
be causes of one another (e.g. exercise of good condition, and
the latter of exercise; not, however, in the same way, but the one
as end and the other as source of movement). Again, the same
2293
2294
3
Element means (1) the primary component immanent in a
thing, and indivisible in kind into other kinds; e.g. the elements
2295
of speech are the parts of which speech consists and into which
it is ultimately divided, while they are no longer divided into
other forms of speech different in kind from them. If they are
divided, their parts are of the same kind, as a part of water is
water (while a part of the syllable is not a syllable). Similarly
those who speak of the elements of bodies mean the things into
which bodies are ultimately divided, while they are no longer
divided into other things differing in kind; and whether the
things of this sort are one or more, they call these elements. The
so-called elements of geometrical proofs, and in general the
elements of demonstrations, have a similar character; for the
primary demonstrations, each of which is implied in many
demonstrations, are called elements of demonstrations; and the
primary syllogisms, which have three terms and proceed by
means of one middle, are of this nature.
(2) People also transfer the word element from this meaning
and apply it to that which, being one and small, is useful for
many purposes; for which reason what is small and simple and
indivisible is called an element. Hence come the facts that the
most universal things are elements (because each of them being
one and simple is present in a plurality of things, either in all or
in as many as possible), and that unity and the point are
thought by some to be first principles. Now, since the so-called
genera are universal and indivisible (for there is no definition of
them), some say the genera are elements, and more so than the
differentia, because the genus is more universal; for where the
differentia is present, the genus accompanies it, but where the
genus is present, the differentia is not always so. It is common
to all the meanings that the element of each thing is the first
component immanent in each.
2296
4
Nature means (1) the genesis of growing things the meaning
which would be suggested if one were to pronounce the u in
phusis long. (2) That immanent part of a growing thing, from
which its growth first proceeds. (3) The source from which the
primary movement in each natural object is present in it in
virtue of its own essence. Those things are said to grow which
derive increase from something else by contact and either by
organic unity, or by organic adhesion as in the case of embryos.
Organic unity differs from contact; for in the latter case there
need not be anything besides the contact, but in organic unities
there is something identical in both parts, which makes them
grow together instead of merely touching, and be one in respect
of continuity and quantity, though not of quality. (4) Nature
means the primary material of which any natural object
consists or out of which it is made, which is relatively unshaped
and cannot be changed from its own potency, as e.g. bronze is
said to be the nature of a statue and of bronze utensils, and
wood the nature of wooden things; and so in all other cases; for
when a product is made out of these materials, the first matter
is preserved throughout. For it is in this way that people call the
elements of natural objects also their nature, some naming fire,
others earth, others air, others water, others something else of
the sort, and some naming more than one of these, and others
all of them. (5) Nature means the essence of natural objects,
as with those who say the nature is the primary mode of
composition, or as Empedocles says:
Nothing that is has a nature,
But only mixing and parting of the mixed,
And nature is but a name given them by men.
2297
5
We call necessary (1) (a) that without which, as a condition, a
thing cannot live; e.g. breathing and food are necessary for an
animal; for it is incapable of existing without these; (b) the
conditions without which good cannot be or come to be, or
without which we cannot get rid or be freed of evil; e.g. drinking
2298
2299
unmovable, nothing
attaches to them.
compulsory
or
against
their
nature
6
One means (1) that which is one by accident, (2) that which is
one by its own nature. (1) Instances of the accidentally one are
Coriscus and what is musical, and musical Coriscus (for it is
the same thing to say Coriscus and what is musical, and
musical Coriscus), and what is musical and what is just, and
musical Coriscus and just Coriscus. For all of these are called
one by virtue of an accident, what is just and what is musical
because they are accidents of one substance, what is musical
and Coriscus because the one is an accident of the other; and
similarly in a sense musical Coriscus is one with Coriscus
because one of the parts of the phrase is an accident of the
other, i.e. musical is an accident of Coriscus; and musical
Coriscus is one with just Coriscus because one part of each is
an accident of one and the same subject. The case is similar if
the accident is predicated of a genus or of any universal name,
e.g. if one says that man is the same as musical man; for this is
either because musical is an accident of man, which is one
substance, or because both are accidents of some individual, e.g.
Coriscus. Both, however, do not belong to him in the same way,
but one presumably as genus and included in his substance, the
other as a state or affection of the substance.
The things, then, that are called one in virtue of an accident, are
called so in this way. (2) Of things that are called one in virtue of
their own nature some (a) are so called because they are
continuous, e.g. a bundle is made one by a band, and pieces of
wood are made one by glue; and a line, even if it is bent, is
2300
called one if it is continuous, as each part of the body is, e.g. the
leg or the arm. Of these themselves, the continuous by nature
are more one than the continuous by art. A thing is called
continuous which has by its own nature one movement and
cannot have any other; and the movement is one when it is
indivisible, and it is indivisible in respect of time. Those things
are continuous by their own nature which are one not merely by
contact; for if you put pieces of wood touching one another, you
will not say these are one piece of wood or one body or one
continuum of any other sort. Things, then, that are continuous
in any way called one, even if they admit of being bent, and still
more those which cannot be bent; e.g. the shin or the thigh is
more one than the leg, because the movement of the leg need
not be one. And the straight line is more one than the bent; but
that which is bent and has an angle we call both one and not
one, because its movement may be either simultaneous or not
simultaneous; but that of the straight line is always
simultaneous, and no part of it which has magnitude rests
while another moves, as in the bent line.
(b)(i) Things are called one in another sense because their
substratum does not differ in kind; it does not differ in the case
of things whose kind is indivisible to sense. The substratum
meant is either the nearest to, or the farthest from, the final
state. For, one the one hand, wine is said to be one and water is
said to be one, qua indivisible in kind; and, on the other hand,
all juices, e.g. oil and wine, are said to be one, and so are all
things that can be melted, because the ultimate substratum of
all is the same; for all of these are water or air.
(ii) Those things also are called one whose genus is one though
distinguished by opposite differentiae these too are all called
one because the genus which underlies the differentiae is one
(e.g. horse, man, and dog form a unity, because all are animals),
and indeed in a way similar to that in which the matter is one.
2301
2302
single form. This is why the circle is of all lines most truly one,
because it is whole and complete.
(3) The essence of what is one is to be some kind of beginning of
number; for the first measure is the beginning, since that by
which we first know each class is the first measure of the class;
the one, then, is the beginning of the knowable regarding each
class. But the one is not the same in all classes. For here it is a
quarter-tone, and there it is the vowel or the consonant; and
there is another unit of weight and another of movement. But
everywhere the one is indivisible either in quantity or in kind.
Now that which is indivisible in quantity is called a unit if it is
not divisible in any dimension and is without position, a point if
it is not divisible in any dimension and has position, a line if it
is divisible in one dimension, a plane if in two, a body if divisible
in quantity in all i.e. in three dimensions. And, reversing the
order, that which is divisible in two dimensions is a plane, that
which is divisible in one a line, that which is in no way divisible
in quantity is a point or a unit, that which has not position a
unit, that which has position a point.
Again, some things are one in number, others in species, others
in genus, others by analogy; in number those whose matter is
one, in species those whose definition is one, in genus those to
which the same figure of predication applies, by analogy those
which are related as a third thing is to a fourth. The latter kinds
of unity are always found when the former are; e.g. things that
are one in number are also one in species, while things that are
one in species are not all one in number; but things that are one
in species are all one in genus, while things that are so in genus
are not all one in species but are all one by analogy; while
things that are one by analogy are not all one in genus.
Evidently many will have meanings opposite to those of one;
some things are many because they are not continuous, others
2303
7
Things are said to be (1) in an accidental sense, (2) by their own
nature.
(1) In an accidental sense, e.g. we say the righteous doer is
musical, and the man is musical, and the musician is a man,
just as we say the musician builds, because the builder
happens to be musical or the musician to be a builder; for here
one thing is another means one is an accident of another. So
in the cases we have mentioned; for when we say the man is
musical and the musician is a man, or he who is pale is
musical or the musician is pale, the last two mean that both
attributes are accidents of the same thing; the first that the
attribute is an accident of that which is, while the musical is a
man means that musical is an accident of a man. (In this
sense, too, the not-pale is said to be, because that of which it is
an accident is.) Thus when one thing is said in an accidental
sense to be another, this is either because both belong to the
same thing, and this is, or because that to which the attribute
belongs is, or because the subject which has as an attribute that
of which it is itself predicated, itself is.
(2) The kinds of essential being are precisely those that are
indicated by the figures of predication; for the senses of being
are just as many as these figures. Since, then, some predicates
indicate what the subject is, others its quality, others quantity,
others relation, others activity or passivity, others its where,
others its when, being has a meaning answering to each of
2304
8
We call substance (1) the simple bodies, i.e. earth and fire and
water and everything of the sort, and in general bodies and the
things composed of them, both animals and divine beings, and
the parts of these. All these are called substance because they
are not predicated of a subject but everything else is predicated
of them. (2) That which, being present in such things as are
not predicated of a subject, is the cause of their being, as the
2305
9
The same means (1) that which is the same in an accidental
sense, e.g. the pale and the musical are the same because
they are accidents of the same thing, and a man and musical
because the one is an accident of the other; and the musical is
a man because it is an accident of the man. (The complex
entity is the same as either of the simple ones and each of these
is the same as it; for both the man and the musical are said to
be the same as the musical man, and this the same as they.)
This is why all of these statements are made not universally; for
it is not true to say that every man is the same as the musical
(for universal attributes belong to things in virtue of their own
nature, but accidents do not belong to them in virtue of their
own nature); but of the individuals the statements are made
without qualification. For Socrates and musical Socrates are
thought to be the same; but Socrates is not predicable of more
2306
2307
10
The term opposite is applied to contradictories, and to
contraries, and to relative terms, and to privation and
possession, and to the extremes from which and into which
generation and dissolution take place; and the attributes that
cannot be present at the same time in that which is receptive of
both, are said to be opposed, either themselves of their
constituents. Grey and white colour do not belong at the same
time to the same thing; hence their constituents are opposed.
The term contrary is applied (1) to those attributes differing in
genus which cannot belong at the same time to the same
subject, (2) to the most different of the things in the same
genus, (3) to the most different of the attributes in the same
recipient subject, (4) to the most different of the things that fall
under the same faculty, (5) to the things whose difference is
greatest either absolutely or in genus or in species. The other
things that are called contrary are so called, some because they
possess contraries of the above kind, some because they are
receptive of such, some because they are productive of or
susceptible to such, or are producing or suffering them, or are
losses or acquisitions, or possessions or privations, of such.
Since one and being have many senses, the other terms
which are derived from these, and therefore same, other, and
contrary, must correspond, so that they must be different for
each category.
The term other in species is applied to things which being of
the same genus are not subordinate the one to the other, or
which being in the same genus have a difference, or which have
a contrariety in their substance; and contraries are other than
one another in species (either all contraries or those which are
so called in the primary sense), and so are those things whose
definitions differ in the infima species of the genus (e.g. man
2308
11
The words prior and posterior are applied (1) to some things
(on the assumption that there is a first, i.e. a beginning, in each
class) because they are nearer some beginning determined
either absolutely and by nature, or by reference to something or
in some place or by certain people; e.g. things are prior in place
because they are nearer either to some place determined by
nature (e.g. the middle or the last place), or to some chance
object; and that which is farther is posterior. Other things are
prior in time; some by being farther from the present, i.e. in the
case of past events (for the Trojan war is prior to the Persian,
because it is farther from the present), others by being nearer
the present, i.e. in the case of future events (for the Nemean
games are prior to the Pythian, if we treat the present as
beginning and first point, because they are nearer the present).
Other things are prior in movement; for that which is nearer
the first mover is prior (e.g. the boy is prior to the man); and the
prime mover also is a beginning absolutely. Others are prior in
power; for that which exceeds in power, i.e. the more powerful,
is prior; and such is that according to whose will the other i.e.
the posterior must follow, so that if the prior does not set it in
motion the other does not move, and if it sets it in motion it
does move; and here will is a beginning. Others are prior in
arrangement; these are the things that are placed at intervals in
reference to some one definite thing according to some rule, e.g.
in the chorus the second man is prior to the third, and in the
2309
lyre the second lowest string is prior to the lowest; for in the
one case the leader and in the other the middle string is the
beginning.
These, then, are called prior in this sense, but (2) in another
sense that which is prior for knowledge is treated as also
absolutely prior; of these, the things that are prior in definition
do not coincide with those that are prior in relation to
perception. For in definition universals are prior, in relation to
perception individuals. And in definition also the accident is
prior to the whole, e.g. musical to musical man, for the
definition cannot exist as a whole without the part; yet
musicalness cannot exist unless there is some one who is
musical.
(3) The attributes of prior things are called prior, e.g.
straightness is prior to smoothness; for one is an attribute of a
line as such, and the other of a surface.
Some things then are called prior and posterior in this sense,
others (4) in respect of nature and substance, i.e. those which
can be without other things, while the others cannot be without
them, a distinction which Plato used. (If we consider the
various senses of being, firstly the subject is prior, so that
substance is prior; secondly, according as potency or complete
reality is taken into account, different things are prior, for some
things are prior in respect of potency, others in respect of
complete reality, e.g. in potency the half line is prior to the
whole line, and the part to the whole, and the matter to the
concrete substance, but in complete reality these are posterior;
for it is only when the whole has been dissolved that they will
exist in complete reality.) In a sense, therefore, all things that
are called prior and posterior are so called with reference to this
fourth sense; for some things can exist without others in
respect of generation, e.g. the whole without the parts, and
2310
12
Potency means (1) a source of movement or change, which is in
another thing than the thing moved or in the same thing qua
other; e.g. the art of building is a potency which is not in the
thing built, while the art of healing, which is a potency, may be
in the man healed, but not in him qua healed. Potency then
means the source, in general, of change or movement in
another thing or in the same thing qua other, and also (2) the
source of a things being moved by another thing or by itself qua
other. For in virtue of that principle, in virtue of which a patient
suffers anything, we call it capable of suffering; and this we do
sometimes if it suffers anything at all, sometimes not in respect
of everything it suffers, but only if it suffers a change for the
better (3) The capacity of performing this well or according to
intention; for sometimes we say of those who merely can walk
or speak but not well or not as they intend, that they cannot
speak or walk. So too (4) in the case of passivity. (5) The states
in virtue of which things are absolutely impassive or
unchangeable, or not easily changed for the worse, are called
potencies; for things are broken and crushed and bent and in
general destroyed not by having a potency but by not having
one and by lacking something, and things are impassive with
respect to such processes if they are scarcely and slightly
affected by them, because of a potency and because they can
do something and are in some positive state.
Potency having this variety of meanings, so too the potent or
capable in one sense will mean that which can begin a
2311
2312
13
Quantum means that which is divisible into two or more
constituent parts of which each is by nature a one and a this.
A quantum is a plurality if it is numerable, a magnitude if it is a
measurable. Plurality means that which is divisible potentially
2313
2314
14
Quality means (1) the differentia of the essence, e.g. man is an
animal of a certain quality because he is two-footed, and the
horse is so because it is four-footed; and a circle is a figure of
particular quality because it is without angles, which shows
that the essential differentia is a quality. This, then, is one
meaning of quality the differentia of the essence, but (2) there
is another sense in which it applies to the unmovable objects of
mathematics, the sense in which the numbers have a certain
quality, e.g. the composite numbers which are not in one
dimension only, but of which the plane and the solid are copies
(these are those which have two or three factors); and in general
that which exists in the essence of numbers besides quantity is
quality; for the essence of each is what it is once, e.g. that of is
not what it is twice or thrice, but what it is once; for 6 is once 6.
(3) All the modifications of substances that move (e.g. heat and
cold, whiteness and blackness, heaviness and lightness, and the
others of the sort) in virtue of which, when they change, bodies
are said to alter. (4) Quality in respect of virtue and vice, and in
general, of evil and good.
Quality, then, seems to have practically two meanings, and one
of these is the more proper. The primary quality is the
differentia of the essence, and of this the quality in numbers is
a part; for it is a differentia of essences, but either not of things
that move or not of them qua moving. Secondly, there are the
modifications of things that move, qua moving, and the
differentiae of movements. Virtue and vice fall among these
modifications; for they indicate differentiae of the movement or
activity, according to which the things in motion act or are
acted on well or badly; for that which can be moved or act in
one way is good, and that which can do so in another the
contrary way is vicious. Good and evil indicate quality
2315
15
Things are relative (1) as double to half, and treble to a third,
and in general that which contains something else many times
to that which is contained many times in something else, and
that which exceeds to that which is exceeded; (2) as that which
can heat to that which can be heated, and that which can cut to
that which can be cut, and in general the active to the passive;
(3) as the measurable to the measure, and the knowable to
knowledge, and the perceptible to perception.
(1) Relative terms of the first kind are numerically related either
indefinitely or definitely, to numbers themselves or to 1. E.g. the
double is in a definite numerical relation to 1, and that which is
many times as great is in a numerical, but not a definite,
relation to 1, i.e. not in this or in that numerical relation to it;
the relation of that which is half as big again as something else
to that something is a definite numerical relation to a number;
that which is n+I/n times something else is in an indefinite
relation to that something, as that which is many times as
great is in an indefinite relation to 1; the relation of that which
exceeds to that which is exceeded is numerically quite
indefinite; for number is always commensurate, and number is
not predicated of that which is not commensurate, but that
which exceeds is, in relation to that which is exceeded, so much
and something more; and this something is indefinite; for it
can, indifferently, be either equal or not equal to that which is
exceeded. All these relations, then, are numerically expressed
and are determinations of number, and so in another way are
2316
the equal and the like and the same. For all refer to unity. Those
things are the same whose substance is one; those are like
whose quality is one; those are equal whose quantity is one;
and 1 is the beginning and measure of number, so that all these
relations imply number, though not in the same way.
(2) Things that are active or passive imply an active or a passive
potency and the actualizations of the potencies; e.g. that which
is capable of heating is related to that which is capable of being
heated, because it can heat it, and, again, that which heats is
related to that which is heated and that which cuts to that
which is cut, in the sense that they actually do these things. But
numerical relations are not actualized except in the sense
which has been elsewhere stated; actualizations in the sense of
movement they have not. Of relations which imply potency
some further imply particular periods of time, e.g. that which
has made is relative to that which has been made, and that
which will make to that which will be made. For it is in this way
that a father is called the father of his son; for the one has acted
and the other has been acted on in a certain way. Further, some
relative terms imply privation of potency, i.e. incapable and
terms of this sort, e.g. invisible.
Relative terms which imply number or potency, therefore, are all
relative because their very essence includes in its nature a
reference to something else, not because something else
involves a reference to it; but (3) that which is measurable or
knowable or thinkable is called relative because something else
involves a reference to it. For that which is thinkable implies
that the thought of it is possible, but the thought is not relative
to that of which it is the thought; for we should then have said
the same thing twice. Similarly sight is the sight of something,
not of that of which it is the sight (though of course it is true to
say this); in fact it is relative to colour or to something else of
2317
the sort. But according to the other way of speaking the same
thing would be said twice, the sight is of that of which it is.
Things that are by their own nature called relative are called so
sometimes in these senses, sometimes if the classes that
include them are of this sort; e.g. medicine is a relative term
because its genus, science, is thought to be a relative term.
Further, there are the properties in virtue of which the things
that have them are called relative, e.g. equality is relative
because the equal is, and likeness because the like is. Other
things are relative by accident; e.g. a man is relative because he
happens to be double of something and double is a relative
term; or the white is relative, if the same thing happens to be
double and white.
16
What is called complete is (1) that outside which it is not
possible to find any, even one, of its parts; e.g. the complete
time of each thing is that outside which it is not possible to find
any time which is a part proper to it. (2) That which in respect
of excellence and goodness cannot be excelled in its kind; e.g.
we have a complete doctor or a complete flute-player, when
they lack nothing in respect of the form of their proper
excellence. And thus, transferring the word to bad things, we
speak of a complete scandal-monger and a complete thief;
indeed we even call them good, i.e. a good thief and a good
scandal-monger. And excellence is a completion; for each thing
is complete and every substance is complete, when in respect of
the form of its proper excellence it lacks no part of its natural
magnitude. (3) The things which have attained their end, this
being good, are called complete; for things are complete in
2318
17
Limit means (1) the last point of each thing, i.e. the first point
beyond which it is not possible to find any part, and the first
point within which every part is; (2) the form, whatever it may
be, of a spatial magnitude or of a thing that has magnitude; (3)
the end of each thing (and of this nature is that towards which
the movement and the action are, not that from which they are
though sometimes it is both, that from which and that to
which the movement is, i.e. the final cause); (4) the substance of
each thing, and the essence of each; for this is the limit of
knowledge; and if of knowledge, of the object also. Evidently,
therefore, limit has as many senses as beginning, and yet
2319
18
That in virtue of which has several meanings: (1) the form or
substance of each thing, e.g. that in virtue of which a man is
good is the good itself, (2) the proximate subject in which it is
the nature of an attribute to be found, e.g. colour in a surface.
That in virtue of which, then, in the primary sense is the form,
and in a secondary sense the matter of each thing and the
proximate substratum of each. In general that in virtue of
which will found in the same number of senses as cause; for
we say indifferently (3) in virtue of what has he come? or for
what end has he come?; and (4) in virtue of what has he
inferred wrongly, or inferred? or what is the cause of the
inference, or of the wrong inference? Further (5) Kath d is
used in reference to position, e.g. at which he stands or along
which he walks; for all such phrases indicate place and
position.
Therefore in virtue of itself must likewise have several
meanings. The following belong to a thing in virtue of itself: (1)
the essence of each thing, e.g. Callias is in virtue of himself
Callias and what it was to be Callias; (2) whatever is present in
the what, e.g. Callias is in virtue of himself an animal. For
animal is present in his definition; Callias is a particular
animal. (3) Whatever attribute a thing receives in itself directly
or in one of its parts; e.g. a surface is white in virtue of itself,
and a man is alive in virtue of himself; for the soul, in which life
directly resides, is a part of the man. (4) That which has no
cause other than itself; man has more than one cause animal,
2320
19
Disposition means the arrangement of that which has parts, in
respect either of place or of potency or of kind; for there must
be a certain position, as even the word disposition shows.
20
Having means (1) a kind of activity of the haver and of what he
has something like an action or movement. For when one
thing makes and one is made, between them there is a making;
so too between him who has a garment and the garment which
he has there is a having. This sort of having, then, evidently we
cannot have; for the process will go on to infinity, if it is to be
possible to have the having of what we have. (2) Having or
habit means a disposition according to which that which is
disposed is either well or ill disposed, and either in itself or with
reference to something else; e.g. health is a habit; for it is such
a disposition. (3) We speak of a habit if there is a portion of
such a disposition; and so even the excellence of the parts is a
habit of the whole thing.
2321
21
Affection means (1) a quality in respect of which a thing can be
altered, e.g. white and black, sweet and bitter, heaviness and
lightness, and all others of the kind. (2) The actualization of
these the already accomplished alterations. (3) Especially,
injurious alterations and movements, and, above all painful
injuries. (4) Misfortunes and painful experiences when on a
large scale are called affections.
22
We speak of privation (1) if something has not one of the
attributes which a thing might naturally have, even if this thing
itself would not naturally have it; e.g. a plant is said to be
deprived of eyes. (2) If, though either the thing itself or its
genus would naturally have an attribute, it has it not; e.g. a blind
man and a mole are in different senses deprived of sight; the
latter in contrast with its genus, the former in contrast with his
own normal nature. (3) If, though it would naturally have the
attribute, and when it would naturally have it, it has it not; for
blindness is a privation, but one is not blind at any and every
age, but only if one has not sight at the age at which one would
naturally have it. Similarly a thing is called blind if it has not
sight in the medium in which, and in respect of the organ in
respect of which, and with reference to the object with
reference to which, and in the circumstances in which, it would
naturally have it. (4) The violent taking away of anything is
called privation.
Indeed there are just as many kinds of privations as there are of
words with negative prefixes; for a thing is called unequal
because it has not equality though it would naturally have it,
2322
23
To have or hold means many things: (1) to treat a thing
according to ones own nature or according to ones own
impulse; so that fever is said to have a man, and tyrants to have
their cities, and people to have the clothes they wear. (2) That
in which a thing is present as in something receptive of it is
said to have the thing; e.g. the bronze has the form of the
statue, and the body has the disease. (3) As that which
contains holds the things contained; for a thing is said to be
held by that in which it is as in a container; e.g. we say that the
vessel holds the liquid and the city holds men and the ship
sailors; and so too that the whole holds the parts. (4) That
which hinders a thing from moving or acting according to its
own impulse is said to hold it, as pillars hold the incumbent
weights, and as the poets make Atlas hold the heavens,
implying that otherwise they would collapse on the earth, as
some of the natural philosophers also say. In this way also that
which holds things together is said to hold the things it holds
2323
24
To come from something means (1) to come from something
as from matter, and this in two senses, either in respect of the
highest genus or in respect of the lowest species; e.g. in a sense
all things that can be melted come from water, but in a sense
the statue comes from bronze. (2) As from the first moving
principle; e.g. what did the fight come from? From abusive
language, because this was the origin of the fight. (3) From the
compound of matter and shape, as the parts come from the
whole, and the verse from the Iliad, and the stones from the
house; (in every such case the whole is a compound of matter
and shape,) for the shape is the end, and only that which
attains an end is complete. (4) As the form from its part, e.g.
man from two-footedand syllable from letter; for this is a
different sense from that in which the statue comes from
bronze; for the composite substance comes from the sensible
matter, but the form also comes from the matter of the form.
Some things, then, are said to come from something else in
these senses; but (5) others are so described if one of these
senses is applicable to a part of that other thing; e.g. the child
comes from its father and mother, and plants come from the
earth, because they come from a part of those things. (6) It
means coming after a thing in time, e.g. night comes from day
and storm from fine weather, because the one comes after the
other. Of these things some are so described because they admit
2324
25
Part means (1) (a) that into which a quantum can in any way
be divided; for that which is taken from a quantum qua
quantum is always called a part of it, e.g. two is called in a sense
a part of three. It means (b), of the parts in the first sense, only
those which measure the whole; this is why two, though in one
sense it is, in another is not, called a part of three. (2) The
elements into which a kind might be divided apart from the
quantity are also called parts of it; for which reason we say the
species are parts of the genus. (3) The elements into which a
whole is divided, or of which it consists the whole meaning
either the form or that which has the form; e.g. of the bronze
sphere or of the bronze cube both the bronze i.e. the matter in
which the form is and the characteristic angle are parts. (4)
The elements in the definition which explains a thing are also
parts of the whole; this is why the genus is called a part of the
species, though in another sense the species is part of the
genus.
2325
26
A whole means (1) that from which is absent none of the parts
of which it is said to be naturally a whole, and (2) that which so
contains the things it contains that they form a unity; and this
in two senses either as being each severally one single thing,
or as making up the unity between them. For (a) that which is
true of a whole class and is said to hold good as a whole (which
implies that it is a kind whole) is true of a whole in the sense
that it contains many things by being predicated of each, and by
all of them, e.g. man, horse, god, being severally one single
thing, because all are living things. But (b) the continuous and
limited is a whole, when it is a unity consisting of several parts,
especially if they are present only potentially, but, failing this,
even if they are present actually. Of these things themselves,
those which are so by nature are wholes in a higher degree than
those which are so by art, as we said in the case of unity also,
wholeness being in fact a sort of oneness.
Again (3) of quanta that have a beginning and a middle and an
end, those to which the position does not make a difference are
called totals, and those to which it does, wholes. Those which
admit of both descriptions are both wholes and totals. These are
the things whose nature remains the same after transposition,
but whose form does not, e.g. wax or a coat; they are called both
wholes and totals; for they have both characteristics. Water and
all liquids and number are called totals, but the whole number
or the whole water one does not speak of, except by an
extension of meaning. To things, to which qua one the term
total is applied, the term all is applied when they are treated
as separate; this total number, all these units.
2326
27
It is not any chance quantitative thing that can be said to be
mutilated; it must be a whole as well as divisible. For not only
is two not mutilated if one of the two ones is taken away (for
the part removed by mutilation is never equal to the
remainder), but in general no number is thus mutilated; for it is
also necessary that the essence remain; if a cup is mutilated, it
must still be a cup; but the number is no longer the same.
Further, even if things consist of unlike parts, not even these
things can all be said to be mutilated, for in a sense a number
has unlike parts (e.g. two and three) as well as like; but in
general of the things to which their position makes no
difference, e.g. water or fire, none can be mutilated; to be
mutilated, things must be such as in virtue of their essence
have a certain position. Again, they must be continuous; for a
musical scale consists of unlike parts and has position, but
cannot become mutilated. Besides, not even the things that are
wholes are mutilated by the privation of any part. For the parts
removed must be neither those which determine the essence
nor any chance parts, irrespective of their position; e.g. a cup is
not mutilated if it is bored through, but only if the handle or a
projecting part is removed, and a man is mutilated not if the
flesh or the spleen is removed, but if an extremity is, and that
not every extremity but one which when completely removed
cannot grow again. Therefore baldness is not a mutilation.
28
The term race or genus is used (1) if generation of things
which have the same form is continuous, e.g. while the race of
men lasts means while the generation of them goes on
2327
29
The false means (1) that which is false as a thing, and that (a)
because it is not put together or cannot be put together, e.g.
2328
2329
the proof in the Hippias that the same man is false and true is
misleading. For it assumes that he is false who can deceive (i.e.
the man who knows and is wise); and further that he who is
willingly bad is better. This is a false result of induction for a
man who limps willingly is better than one who does so
unwillingly by limping Plato means mimicking a limp, for if
the man were lame willingly, he would presumably be worse in
this case as in the corresponding case of moral character.
30
Accident means (1) that which attaches to something and can
be truly asserted, but neither of necessity nor usually, e.g. if
some one in digging a hole for a plant has found treasure. This
the finding of treasure is for the man who dug the hole an
accident; for neither does the one come of necessity from the
other or after the other, nor, if a man plants, does he usually
find treasure. And a musical man might be pale; but since this
does not happen of necessity nor usually, we call it an accident.
Therefore since there are attributes and they attach to subjects,
and some of them attach to these only in a particular place and
at a particular time, whatever attaches to a subject, but not
because it was this subject, or the time this time, or the place
this place, will be an accident. Therefore, too, there is no definite
cause for an accident, but a chance cause, i.e. an indefinite one.
Going to Aegina was an accident for a man, if he went not in
order to get there, but because he was carried out of his way by
a storm or captured by pirates. The accident has happened or
exists, not in virtue of the subjects nature, however, but of
something else; for the storm was the cause of his coming to a
place for which he was not sailing, and this was Aegina.
2330
Accident has also (2) another meaning, i.e. all that attaches to
each thing in virtue of itself but is not in its essence, as having
its angles equal to two right angles attaches to the triangle. And
accidents of this sort may be eternal, but no accident of the
other sort is. This is explained elsewhere.
Book
1
We are seeking the principles and the causes of the things that
are, and obviously of them qua being. For, while there is a cause
of health and of good condition, and the objects of mathematics
have first principles and elements and causes, and in general
every science which is ratiocinative or at all involves reasoning
deals with causes and principles, more or less precise, all these
sciences mark off some particular being some genus, and
inquire into this, but not into being simply nor qua being, nor
do they offer any discussion of the essence of the things of
which they treat; but starting from the essence some making
it plain to the senses, others assuming it as a hypothesis they
then demonstrate, more or less cogently, the essential attributes
of the genus with which they deal. It is obvious, therefore, that
such an induction yields no demonstration of substance or of
the essence, but some other way of exhibiting it. And similarly
the sciences omit the question whether the genus with which
2331
2332
2333
2
But since the unqualified term being has several meanings, of
which one was seen to be the accidental, and another the true
(non-being being the false), while besides these there are the
figures of predication (e.g. the what, quality, quantity, place,
time, and any similar meanings which being may have), and
again besides all these there is that which is potentially or
actually: since being has many meanings, we must say
regarding the accidental, that there can be no scientific
treatment of it. This is confirmed by the fact that no science
practical, productive, or theoretical troubles itself about it. For
on the one hand he who produces a house does not produce all
the attributes that come into being along with the house; for
these are innumerable; the house that has been made may
quite well be pleasant for some people, hurtful for some, and
useful to others, and different to put it shortly from all things
that are; and the science of building does not aim at producing
any of these attributes. And in the same way the geometer does
not consider the attributes which attach thus to figures, nor
whether triangle is different from triangle whose angles are
equal to two right angles. And this happens naturally enough;
for the accidental is practically a mere name. And so Plato was
in a sense not wrong in ranking sophistic as dealing with that
which is not. For the arguments of the sophists deal, we may
say, above all with the accidental; e.g. the question whether
musical and lettered are different or the same, and whether
musical Coriscus and Coriscus are the same, and whether
everything which is, but is not eternal, has come to be, with
the paradoxical conclusion that if one who was musical has
come to be lettered, he must also have been lettered and have
come to be musical, and all the other arguments of this sort; the
accidental is obviously akin to non-being. And this is clear also
from arguments such as the following: things which are in
another sense come into being and pass out of being by a
2334
3
That there are principles and causes which are generable and
destructible without ever being in course of being generated or
destroyed, is obvious. For otherwise all things will be of
necessity, since that which is being generated or destroyed
must have a cause which is not accidentally its cause. Will A
exist or not? It will if B happens; and if not, not. And B will exist
if C happens. And thus if time is constantly subtracted from a
limited extent of time, one will obviously come to the present.
This man, then, will die by violence, if he goes out; and he will
do this if he gets thirsty; and he will get thirsty if something
else happens; and thus we shall come to that which is now
2336
4
Let us dismiss accidental being; for we have sufficiently
determined its nature. But since that which is in the sense of
being true, or is not in the sense of being false, depends on
combination and separation, and truth and falsity together
depend on the allocation of a pair of contradictory judgements
(for the true judgement affirms where the subject and predicate
really are combined, and denies where they are separated, while
the false judgement has the opposite of this allocation; it is
another question, how it happens that we think things together
or apart; by together and apart I mean thinking them so that
there is no succession in the thoughts but they become a unity);
2337
for falsity and truth are not in things it is not as if the good
were true, and the bad were in itself false but in thought;
while with regard to simple concepts and whats falsity and
truth do not exist even in thought this being so, we must
consider later what has to be discussed with regard to that
which is or is not in this sense. But since the combination and
the separation are in thought and not in the things, and that
which is in this sense is a different sort of being from the
things that are in the full sense (for the thought attaches or
removes either the subjects what or its having a certain
quality or quantity or something else), that which is
accidentally and that which is in the sense of being true must
be dismissed. For the cause of the former is indeterminate, and
that of the latter is some affection of the thought, and both are
related to the remaining genus of being, and do not indicate the
existence of any separate class of being. Therefore let these be
dismissed, and let us consider the causes and the principles of
being itself, qua being. (It was clear in our discussion of the
various meanings of terms, that being has several meanings.)
Book
1
There are several senses in which a thing may be said to be, as
we pointed out previously in our book on the various senses of
words; for in one sense the being meant is what a thing is or
2338
And indeed the question which was raised of old and is raised
now and always, and is always the subject of doubt, viz. what
being is, is just the question, what is substance? For it is this
that some assert to be one, others more than one, and that
some assert to be limited in number, others unlimited. And so
we also must consider chiefly and primarily and almost
exclusively what that is which is in this sense.
2
Substance is thought to belong most obviously to bodies; and so
we say that not only animals and plants and their parts are
substances, but also natural bodies such as fire and water and
earth and everything of the sort, and all things that are either
parts of these or composed of these (either of parts or of the
whole bodies), e.g. the physical universe and its parts, stars and
moon and sun. But whether these alone are substances, or there
are also others, or only some of these, or others as well, or none
of these but only some other things, are substances, must be
considered. Some think the limits of body, i.e. surface, line,
point, and unit, are substances, and more so than body or the
solid.
Further, some do not think there is anything substantial besides
sensible things, but others think there are eternal substances
which are more in number and more real; e.g. Plato posited two
kinds of substance the Forms and objects of mathematics as
well as a third kind, viz. the substance of sensible bodies. And
Speusippus made still more kinds of substance, beginning with
the One, and assuming principles for each kind of substance,
one for numbers, another for spatial magnitudes, and then
another for the soul; and by going on in this way he multiplies
2340
the kinds of substance. And some say Forms and numbers have
the same nature, and the other things come after them lines
and planes until we come to the substance of the material
universe and to sensible bodies.
Regarding these matters, then, we must inquire which of the
common statements are right and which are not right, and
what substances there are, and whether there are or are not any
besides sensible substances, and how sensible substances exist,
and whether there is a substance capable of separate existence
(and if so why and how) or no such substance, apart from
sensible substances; and we must first sketch the nature of
substance.
3
The word substance is applied, if not in more senses, still at
least to four main objects; for both the essence and the
universal and the genus, are thought to be the substance of
each thing, and fourthly the substratum. Now the substratum is
that of which everything else is predicated, while it is itself not
predicated of anything else. And so we must first determine the
nature of this; for that which underlies a thing primarily is
thought to be in the truest sense its substance. And in one
sense matter is said to be of the nature of substratum, in
another, shape, and in a third, the compound of these. (By the
matter I mean, for instance, the bronze, by the shape the
pattern of its form, and by the compound of these the statue,
the concrete whole.) Therefore if the form is prior to the matter
and more real, it will be prior also to the compound of both, for
the same reason.
2341
4
Since at the start we distinguished the various marks by which
we determine substance, and one of these was thought to be
the essence, we must investigate this. And first let us make
some linguistic remarks about it. The essence of each thing is
what it is said to be propter se. For being you is not being
musical, since you are not by your very nature musical. What,
then, you are by your very nature is your essence.
Nor yet is the whole of this the essence of a thing; not that
which is propter se as white is to a surface, because being a
surface is not identical with being white. But again the
combination of both being a white surface is not the
essence of surface, because surface itself is added. The
formula, therefore, in which the term itself is not present but its
2343
2344
2345
reference to one and the same thing, not meaning one and the
same thing, nor yet speaking ambiguously; for a patient and an
operation and an instrument are called medical neither by an
ambiguity nor with a single meaning, but with reference to a
common end. But it does not matter at all in which of the two
ways one likes to describe the facts; this is evident, that
definition and essence in the primary and simple sense belong
to substances. Still they belong to other things as well, only not
in the primary sense. For if we suppose this it does not follow
that there is a definition of every word which means the same
as any formula; it must mean the same as a particular kind of
formula; and this condition is satisfied if it is a formula of
something which is one, not by continuity like the Iliad or the
things that are one by being bound together, but in one of the
main senses of one, which answer to the senses of is; now
that which is in one sense denotes a this, in another a
quantity, in another a quality. And so there can be a formula or
definition even of white man, but not in the sense in which
there is a definition either of white or of a substance.
5
It is a difficult question, if one denies that a formula with an
added determinant is a definition, whether any of the terms
that are not simple but coupled will be definable. For we must
explain them by adding a determinant. E.g. there is the nose,
and concavity, and snubness, which is compounded out of the
two by the presence of the one in the other, and it is not by
accident that the nose has the attribute either of concavity or of
snubness, but in virtue of its nature; nor do they attach to it as
whiteness does to Callias, or to man (because Callias, who
happens to be a man, is white), but as male attaches to animal
2346
2347
6
We must inquire whether each thing and its essence are the
same or different. This is of some use for the inquiry concerning
substance; for each thing is thought to be not different from its
substance, and the essence is said to be the substance of each
thing.
Now in the case of accidental unities the two would be
generally thought to be different, e.g. white man would be
thought to be different from the essence of white man. For if
they are the same, the essence of man and that of white man
are also the same; for a man and a white man are the same
thing, as people say, so that the essence of white man and that
of man would be also the same. But perhaps it does not follow
that the essence of accidental unities should be the same as
that of the simple terms. For the extreme terms are not in the
same way identical with the middle term. But perhaps this
might be thought to follow, that the extreme terms, the
accidents, should turn out to be the same, e.g. the essence of
white and that of musical; but this is not actually thought to be
the case.
But in the case of so-called self-subsistent things, is a thing
necessarily the same as its essence? E.g. if there are some
substances which have no other substances nor entities prior to
them substances such as some assert the Ideas to be? If the
essence of good is to be different from good-itself, and the
essence of animal from animal-itself, and the essence of being
2348
2349
the accident and its essence are the same, and in a sense they
are not; for the essence of white is not the same as the man or
the white man, but it is the same as the attribute white.)
The absurdity of the separation would appear also if one were
to assign a name to each of the essences; for there would be yet
another essence besides the original one, e.g. to the essence of
horse there will belong a second essence. Yet why should not
some things be their essences from the start, since essence is
substance? But indeed not only are a thing and its essence one,
but the formula of them is also the same, as is clear even from
what has been said; for it is not by accident that the essence of
one, and the one, are one. Further, if they are to be different, the
process will go on to infinity; for we shall have (1) the essence of
one, and (2) the one, so that to terms of the former kind the
same argument will be applicable.
Clearly, then, each primary and self-subsistent thing is one and
the same as its essence. The sophistical objections to this
position, and the question whether Socrates and to be Socrates
are the same thing, are obviously answered by the same
solution; for there is no difference either in the standpoint from
which the question would be asked, or in that from which one
could answer it successfully. We have explained, then, in what
sense each thing is the same as its essence and in what sense it
is not.
7
Of things that come to be, some come to be by nature, some by
art, some spontaneously. Now everything that comes to be
comes to be by the agency of something and from something
and comes to be something. And the something which I say it
2350
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2352
the result will pre-exist of necessity; for the matter is a part; for
this is present in the process and it is this that becomes
something. But is the matter an element even in the formula?
We certainly describe in both ways what brazen circles are; we
describe both the matter by saying it is brass, and the form by
saying that it is such and such a figure; and figure is the
proximate genus in which it is placed. The brazen circle, then,
has its matter in its formula.
As for that out of which as matter they are produced, some
things are said, when they have been produced, to be not that
but thaten; e.g. the statue is not gold but golden. And a healthy
man is not said to be that from which he has come. The reason
is that though a thing comes both from its privation and from
its substratum, which we call its matter (e.g. what becomes
healthy is both a man and an invalid), it is said to come rather
from its privation (e.g. it is from an invalid rather than from a
man that a healthy subject is produced). And so the healthy
subject is not said to he an invalid, but to be a man, and the
man is said to be healthy. But as for the things whose privation
is obscure and nameless, e.g. in brass the privation of a
particular shape or in bricks and timber the privation of
arrangement as a house, the thing is thought to be produced
from these materials, as in the former case the healthy man is
produced from an invalid. And so, as there also a thing is not
said to be that from which it comes, here the statue is not said
to be wood but is said by a verbal change to be wooden, not
brass but brazen, not gold but golden, and the house is said to
be not bricks but bricken (though we should not say without
qualification, if we looked at the matter carefully, even that a
statue is produced from wood or a house from bricks, because
coming to be implies change in that from which a thing comes
to be, and not permanence). It is for this reason, then, that we
use this way of speaking.
2353
8
Since anything which is produced is produced by something
(and this I call the starting-point of the production), and from
something (and let this be taken to be not the privation but the
matter; for the meaning we attach to this has already been
explained), and since something is produced (and this is either
a sphere or a circle or whatever else it may chance to be), just as
we do not make the substratum (the brass), so we do not make
the sphere, except incidentally, because the brazen sphere is a
sphere and we make the forme. For to make a this is to make a
this out of the substratum in the full sense of the word. (I
mean that to make the brass round is not to make the round or
the sphere, but something else, i.e. to produce this form in
something different from itself. For if we make the form, we
must make it out of something else; for this was assumed. E.g.
we make a brazen sphere; and that in the sense that out of this,
which is brass, we make this other, which is a sphere.) If, then,
we also make the substratum itself, clearly we shall make it in
the same way, and the processes of making will regress to
infinity. Obviously then the form also, or whatever we ought to
call the shape present in the sensible thing, is not produced, nor
is there any production of it, nor is the essence produced; for
this is that which is made to be in something else either by art
or by nature or by some faculty. But that there is a brazen
sphere, this we make. For we make it out of brass and the
sphere; we bring the form into this particular matter, and the
result is a brazen sphere. But if the essence of sphere in general
is to be produced, something must be produced out of
something. For the product will always have to be divisible, and
one part must be this and another that; I mean the one must be
2354
matter and the other form. If, then, a sphere is the figure whose
circumference is at all points equidistant from the centre, part
of this will be the medium in which the thing made will be, and
part will be in that medium, and the whole will be the thing
produced, which corresponds to the brazen sphere. It is obvious,
then, from what has been said, that that which is spoken of as
form or substance is not produced, but the concrete thing which
gets its name from this is produced, and that in everything
which is generated matter is present, and one part of the thing
is matter and the other form.
Is there, then, a sphere apart from the individual spheres or a
house apart from the bricks? Rather we may say that no this
would ever have been coming to be, if this had been so, but that
the form means the such, and is not a this a definite thing;
but the artist makes, or the father begets, a such out of a this;
and when it has been begotten, it is a this such. And the whole
this, Callias or Socrates, is analogous to this brazen sphere,
but man and animal to brazen sphere in general. Obviously,
then, the cause which consists of the Forms (taken in the sense
in which some maintain the existence of the Forms, i.e. if they
are something apart from the individuals) is useless, at least
with regard to comings-to-be and to substances; and the Forms
need not, for this reason at least, be self-subsistent substances.
In some cases indeed it is even obvious that the begetter is of
the same kind as the begotten (not, however, the same nor one
in number, but in form), i.e. in the case of natural products (for
man begets man), unless something happens contrary to
nature, e.g. the production of a mule by a horse. (And even these
cases are similar; for that which would be found to be common
to horse and ass, the genus next above them, has not received a
name, but it would doubtless be both in fact something like a
mule.) Obviously, therefore, it is quite unnecessary to set up a
Form as a pattern (for we should have looked for Forms in these
cases if in any; for these are substances if anything is so); the
2355
9
The question might be raised, why some things are produced
spontaneously as well as by art, e.g. health, while others are not,
e.g. a house. The reason is that in some cases the matter which
governs the production in the making and producing of any
work of art, and in which a part of the product is present,
some matter is such as to be set in motion by itself and some is
not of this nature, and of the former kind some can move itself
in the particular way required, while other matter is incapable
of this; for many things can be set in motion by themselves but
not in some particular way, e.g. that of dancing. The things,
then, whose matter is of this sort, e.g. stones, cannot be moved
in the particular way required, except by something else, but in
another way they can move themselves and so it is with fire.
Therefore some things will not exist apart from some one who
has the art of making them, while others will; for motion will be
started by these things which have not the art but can
themselves be moved by other things which have not the art or
with a motion starting from a part of the product.
And it is clear also from what has been said that in a sense
every product of art is produced from a thing which shares its
name (as natural products are produced), or from a part of itself
which shares its name (e.g. the house is produced from a house,
2356
2357
10
Since a definition is a formula, and every formula has parts, and
as the formula is to the thing, so is the part of the formula to
the part of the thing, the question is already being asked
whether the formula of the parts must be present in the
formula of the whole or not. For in some cases the formulae of
the parts are seen to be present, and in some not. The formula
of the circle does not include that of the segments, but that of
the syllable includes that of the letters; yet the circle is divided
into segments as the syllable is into letters. And further if the
parts are prior to the whole, and the acute angle is a part of the
right angle and the finger a part of the animal, the acute angle
will be prior to the right angle and finger to the man. But the
latter are thought to be prior; for in formula the parts are
explained by reference to them, and in respect also of the power
of existing apart from each other the wholes are prior to the
parts.
2358
2359
principles parts into which they pass away, while some have
not. Those things which are the form and the matter taken
together, e.g. the snub, or the bronze circle, pass away into these
materials, and the matter is a part of them; but those things
which do not involve matter but are without matter, and whose
formulae are formulae of the form only, do not pass away,
either not at all or at any rate not in this way. Therefore these
materials are principles and parts of the concrete things, while
of the form they are neither parts nor principles. And therefore
the clay statue is resolved into clay and the ball into bronze and
Callias into flesh and bones, and again the circle into its
segments; for there is a sense of circle in which involves
matter. For circle is used ambiguously, meaning both the circle,
unqualified, and the individual circle, because there is no name
peculiar to the individuals.
The truth has indeed now been stated, but still let us state it yet
more clearly, taking up the question again. The parts of the
formula, into which the formula is divided, are prior to it, either
all or some of them. The formula of the right angle, however,
does not include the formula of the acute, but the formula of
the acute includes that of the right angle; for he who defines
the acute uses the right angle; for the acute is less than a right
angle. The circle and the semicircle also are in a like relation;
for the semicircle is defined by the circle; and so is the finger by
the whole body, for a finger is such and such a part of a man.
Therefore the parts which are of the nature of matter, and into
which as its matter a thing is divided, are posterior; but those
which are of the nature of parts of the formula, and of the
substance according to its formula, are prior, either all or some
of them. And since the soul of animals (for this is the substance
of a living being) is their substance according to the formula, i.e.
the form and the essence of a body of a certain kind (at least we
shall define each part, if we define it well, not without reference
to its function, and this cannot belong to it without perception),
2360
so that the parts of soul are prior, either all or some of them, to
the concrete animal, and so too with each individual animal;
and the body and parts are posterior to this, the essential
substance, and it is not the substance but the concrete thing
that is divided into these parts as its matter: this being so, to
the concrete thing these are in a sense prior, but in a sense they
are not. For they cannot even exist if severed from the whole;
for it is not a finger in any and every state that is the finger of a
living thing, but a dead finger is a finger only in name. Some
parts are neither prior nor posterior to the whole, i.e. those
which are dominant and in which the formula, i.e. the essential
substance, is immediately present, e.g. perhaps the heart or the
brain; for it does not matter in the least which of the two has
this quality. But man and horse and terms which are thus
applied to individuals, but universally, are not substance but
something composed of this particular formula and this
particular matter treated as universal; and as regards the
individual, Socrates already includes in him ultimate individual
matter; and similarly in all other cases. A part may be a part
either of the form (i.e. of the essence), or of the compound of
the form and the matter, or of the matter itself. But only the
parts of the form are parts of the formula, and the formula is of
the universal; for being a circle is the same as the circle, and
being a soul the same as the soul. But when we come to the
concrete thing, e.g. this circle, i.e. one of the individual circles,
whether perceptible or intelligible (I mean by intelligible circles
the mathematical, and by perceptible circles those of bronze
and of wood), of these there is no definition, but they are
known by the aid of intuitive thinking or of perception; and
when they pass out of this complete realization it is not clear
whether they exist or not; but they are always stated and
recognized by means of the universal formula. But matter is
unknowable in itself. And some matter is perceptible and some
intelligible, perceptible matter being for instance bronze and
2361
11
Another question is naturally raised, viz. what sort of parts
belong to the form and what sort not to the form, but to the
concrete thing. Yet if this is not plain it is not possible to define
any thing; for definition is of the universal and of the form. If
then it is not evident what sort of parts are of the nature of
2362
matter and what sort are not, neither will the formula of the
thing be evident. In the case of things which are found to occur
in specifically different materials, as a circle may exist in bronze
or stone or wood, it seems plain that these, the bronze or the
stone, are no part of the essence of the circle, since it is found
apart from them. Of things which are not seen to exist apart,
there is no reason why the same may not be true, just as if all
circles that had ever been seen were of bronze; for none the less
the bronze would be no part of the form; but it is hard to
eliminate it in thought. E.g. the form of man is always found in
flesh and bones and parts of this kind; are these then also parts
of the form and the formula? No, they are matter; but because
man is not found also in other matters we are unable to
perform the abstraction.
Since this is thought to be possible, but it is not clear when it is
the case, some people already raise the question even in the
case of the circle and the triangle, thinking that it is not right to
define these by reference to lines and to the continuous, but
that all these are to the circle or the triangle as flesh and bones
are to man, and bronze or stone to the statue; and they reduce
all things to numbers, and they say the formula of line is that
of two. And of those who assert the Ideas some make two the
line-itself, and others make it the Form of the line; for in some
cases they say the Form and that of which it is the Form are the
same, e.g. two and the Form of two; but in the case of line
they say this is no longer so.
It follows then that there is one Form for many things whose
form is evidently different (a conclusion which confronted the
Pythagoreans also); and it is possible to make one thing the
Form-itself of all, and to hold that the others are not Forms; but
thus all things will be one.
2363
2364
2365
12
Now let us treat first of definition, in so far as we have not
treated of it in the Analytics; for the problem stated in them is
useful for our inquiries concerning substance. I mean this
problem: wherein can consist the unity of that, the formula of
which we call a definition, as for instance, in the case of man,
two-footed animal; for let this be the formula of man. Why,
then, is this one, and not many, viz. animal and two-footed?
For in the case of man and pale there is a plurality when one
term does not belong to the other, but a unity when it does
belong and the subject, man, has a certain attribute; for then a
unity is produced and we have the pale man. In the present
case, on the other hand, one does not share in the other; the
genus is not thought to share in its differentiae (for then the
same thing would share in contraries; for the differentiae by
which the genus is divided are contrary). And even if the genus
does share in them, the same argument applies, since the
differentiae present in man are many, e.g. endowed with feet,
two-footed, featherless. Why are these one and not many? Not
because they are present in one thing; for on this principle a
unity can be made out of all the attributes of a thing. But surely
all the attributes in the definition must be one; for the
2366
2367
clearly the last differentia will be the substance of the thing and
its definition, since it is not right to state the same things more
than once in our definitions; for it is superfluous. And this does
happen; for when we say animal endowed with feet and twofooted we have said nothing other than animal having feet,
having two feet; and if we divide this by the proper division, we
shall be saying the same thing more than once as many times
as there are differentiae.
If then a differentia of a differentia be taken at each step, one
differentia the last will be the form and the substance; but if
we divide according to accidental qualities, e.g. if we were to
divide that which is endowed with feet into the white and the
black, there will be as many differentiae as there are cuts.
Therefore it is plain that the definition is the formula which
contains the differentiae, or, according to the right method, the
last of these. This would be evident, if we were to change the
order of such definitions, e.g. of that of man, saying animal
which is two-footed and endowed with feet; for endowed with
feet is superfluous when two-footed has been said. But there
is no order in the substance; for how are we to think the one
element posterior and the other prior? Regarding the
definitions, then, which are reached by the method of divisions,
let this suffice as our first attempt at stating their nature.
13
Let us return to the subject of our inquiry, which is substance.
As the substratum and the essence and the compound of these
are called substance, so also is the universal. About two of these
we have spoken; both about the essence and about the
substratum, of which we have said that it underlies in two
2368
2369
2370
14
It is clear also from these very facts what consequence
confronts those who say the Ideas are substances capable of
separate existence, and at the same time make the Form consist
of the genus and the differentiae. For if the Forms exist and
animal is present in man and horse, it is either one and the
same in number, or different. (In formula it is clearly one; for he
who states the formula will go through the formula in either
case.) If then there is a man-in-himself who is a this and
exists apart, the parts also of which he consists, e.g. animal
and two-footed, must indicate thises, and be capable of
separate existence, and substances; therefore animal, as well
as man, must be of this sort.
Now (1) if the animal in the horse and in man is one and the
same, as you are with yourself, (a) how will the one in things
that exist apart be one, and how will this animal escape being
divided even from itself?
Further, (b) if it is to share in two-footed and many-footed, an
impossible conclusion follows; for contrary attributes will
belong at the same time to it although it is one and a this. If it
is not to share in them, what is the relation implied when one
says the animal is two-footed or possessed of feet? But perhaps
the two things are put together and are in contact, or are
mixed. Yet all these expressions are absurd.
2371
15
Since substance is of two kinds, the concrete thing and the
formula (I mean that one kind of substance is the formula taken
with the matter, while another kind is the formula in its
generality), substances in the former sense are capable of
destruction (for they are capable also of generation), but there is
no destruction of the formula in the sense that it is ever in
course of being destroyed (for there is no generation of it either;
the being of house is not generated, but only the being of this
2372
2374
16
Evidently even of the things that are thought to be substances,
most are only potencies, both the parts of animals (for none of
them exists separately; and when they are separated, then too
they exist, all of them, merely as matter) and earth and fire and
air; for none of them is a unity, but as it were a mere heap, till
they are worked up and some unity is made out of them. One
might most readily suppose the parts of living things and the
parts of the soul nearly related to them to turn out to be both,
i.e. existent in complete reality as well as in potency, because
they have sources of movement in something in their joints; for
which reason some animals live when divided. Yet all the parts
must exist only potentially, when they are one and continuous
by nature, not by force or by growing into one, for such a
phenomenon is an abnormality.
Since the term unity is used like the term being, and the
substance of that which is one is one, and things whose
substance is numerically one are numerically one, evidently
neither unity nor being can be the substance of things, just as
being an element or a principle cannot be the substance, but we
ask what, then, the principle is, that we may reduce the thing to
something more knowable. Now of these concepts being and
unity are more substantial than principle or element or
cause, but not even the former are substance, since in general
nothing that is common is substance; for substance does not
belong to anything but to itself and to that which has it, of
which it is the substance. Further, that which is one cannot be
in many places at the same time, but that which is common is
present in many places at the same time; so that clearly no
universal exists apart from its individuals.
2375
But those who say the Forms exist, in one respect are right, in
giving the Forms separate existence, if they are substances; but
in another respect they are not right, because they say the one
over many is a Form. The reason for their doing this is that they
cannot declare what are the substances of this sort, the
imperishable substances which exist apart from the individual
and sensible substances. They make them, then, the same in
kind as the perishable things (for this kind of substance we
know) man-himself and horse-itself, adding to the sensible
things the word itself. Yet even if we had not seen the stars,
none the less, I suppose, would they have been eternal
substances apart from those which we knew; so that now also if
we do not know what non-sensible substances there are, yet it
is doubtless necessary that there should he some. Clearly,
then, no universal term is the name of a substance, and no
substance is composed of substances.
17
Let us state what, i.e. what kind of thing, substance should be
said to be, taking once more another starting-point; for perhaps
from this we shall get a clear view also of that substance which
exists apart from sensible substances. Since, then, substance is
a principle and a cause, let us pursue it from this starting-point.
The why is always sought in this form why does one thing
attach to some other? For to inquire why the musical man is a
musical man, is either to inquire as we have said why the man
is musical, or it is something else. Now why a thing is itself is a
meaningless inquiry (for (to give meaning to the question why)
the fact or the existence of the thing must already be evident
e.g. that the moon is eclipsed but the fact that a thing is itself
is the single reason and the single cause to be given in answer
2376
2378
Book
1
We must reckon up the results arising from what has been said,
and compute the sum of them, and put the finishing touch to
our inquiry. We have said that the causes, principles, and
elements of substances are the object of our search. And some
substances are recognized by every one, but some have been
advocated by particular schools. Those generally recognized are
the natural substances, i.e. fire, earth, water, air, &c., the simple
bodies; second plants and their parts, and animals and the
parts of animals; and finally the physical universe and its parts;
while some particular schools say that Forms and the objects of
mathematics are substances. But there are arguments which
lead to the conclusion that there are other substances, the
essence and the substratum. Again, in another way the genus
seems more substantial than the various spccies, and the
universal than the particulars. And with the universal and the
genus the Ideas are connected; it is in virtue of the same
argument that they are thought to be substances. And since the
essence is substance, and the definition is a formula of the
essence, for this reason we have discussed definition and
essential predication. Since the definition is a formula, and a
formula has parts, we had to consider also with respect to the
notion of part, what are parts of the substance and what are
not, and whether the parts of the substance are also parts of the
definition. Further, too, neither the universal nor the genus is a
substance; we must inquire later into the Ideas and the objects
of mathematics; for some say these are substances as well as
the sensible substances.
2379
2380
2
Since the substance which exists as underlying and as matter is
generally recognized, and this that which exists potentially, it
remains for us to say what is the substance, in the sense of
actuality, of sensible things. Democritus seems to think there
are three kinds of difference between things; the underlying
body, the matter, is one and the same, but they differ either in
rhythm, i.e. shape, or in turning, i.e. position, or in inter-contact,
i.e. order. But evidently there are many differences; for instance,
some things are characterized by the mode of composition of
their matter, e.g. the things formed by blending, such as honeywater; and others by being bound together, e.g. bundle; and
others by being glued together, e.g. a book; and others by being
nailed together, e.g. a casket; and others in more than one of
these ways; and others by position, e.g. threshold and lintel (for
these differ by being placed in a certain way); and others by
time, e.g. dinner and breakfast; and others by place, e.g. the
winds; and others by the affections proper to sensible things,
e.g. hardness and softness, density and rarity, dryness and
wetness; and some things by some of these qualities, others by
them all, and in general some by excess and some by defect.
Clearly, then, the word is has just as many meanings; a thing is
a threshold because it lies in such and such a position, and its
being means its lying in that position, while being ice means
having been solidified in such and such a way. And the being of
some things will be defined by all these qualities, because some
parts of them are mixed, others are blended, others are bound
together, others are solidified, and others use the other
differentiae; e.g. the hand or the foot requires such complex
definition. We must grasp, then, the kinds of differentiae (for
these will be the principles of the being of things), e.g. the
things characterized by the more and the less, or by the dense
and the rare, and by other such qualities; for all these are forms
of excess and defect. And anything that is characterized by
2381
2382
3
We must not fail to notice that sometimes it is not clear
whether a name means the composite substance, or the
actuality or form, e.g. whether house is a sign for the
composite thing, a covering consisting of bricks and stones laid
thus and thus, or for the actuality or form, a covering, and
whether a line is twoness in length or twoness, and whether
an animal is soul in a body or a soul; for soul is the substance
or actuality of some body. Animal might even be applied to
both, not as something definable by one formula, but as related
to a single thing. But this question, while important for another
purpose, is of no importance for the inquiry into sensible
substance; for the essence certainly attaches to the form and
the actuality. For soul and to be soul are the same, but to be
man and man are not the same, unless even the bare soul is to
be called man; and thus on one interpretation the thing is the
same as its essence, and on another it is not.
If we examine we find that the syllable does not consist of the
letters + juxtaposition, nor is the house bricks + juxtaposition.
And this is right; for the juxtaposition or mixing does not
consist of those things of which it is the juxtaposition or
mixing. And the same is true in all other cases; e.g. if the
2383
2384
part of the definition must play the part of matter and the other
that of form.
It is also obvious that, if substances are in a sense numbers,
they are so in this sense and not, as some say, as numbers of
units. For a definition is a sort of number; for (1) it is divisible,
and into indivisible parts (for definitory formulae are not
infinite), and number also is of this nature. And (2) as, when one
of the parts of which a number consists has been taken from or
added to the number, it is no longer the same number, but a
different one, even if it is the very smallest part that has been
taken away or added, so the definition and the essence will no
longer remain when anything has been taken away or added.
And (3) the number must be something in virtue of which it is
one, and this these thinkers cannot state, what makes it one, if
it is one (for either it is not one but a sort of heap, or if it is, we
ought to say what it is that makes one out of many); and the
definition is one, but similarly they cannot say what makes it
one. And this is a natural result; for the same reason is
applicable, and substance is one in the sense which we have
explained, and not, as some say, by being a sort of unit or point;
each is a complete reality and a definite nature. And (4) as
number does not admit of the more and the less, neither does
substance, in the sense of form, but if any substance does, it is
only the substance which involves matter. Let this, then, suffice
for an account of the generation and destruction of so-called
substances in what sense it is possible and in what sense
impossible and of the reduction of things to number.
2385
4
Regarding material substance we must not forget that even if all
things come from the same first cause or have the same things
for their first causes, and if the same matter serves as startingpoint for their generation, yet there is a matter proper to each,
e.g. for phlegm the sweet or the fat, and for bile the bitter, or
something else; though perhaps these come from the same
original matter. And there come to be several matters for the
same thing, when the one matter is matter for the other; e.g.
phlegm comes from the fat and from the sweet, if the fat comes
from the sweet; and it comes from bile by analysis of the bile
into its ultimate matter. For one thing comes from another in
two senses, either because it will be found at a later stage, or
because it is produced if the other is analysed into its original
constituents. When the matter is one, different things may be
produced owing to difference in the moving cause; e.g. from
wood may be made both a chest and a bed. But some different
things must have their matter different; e.g. a saw could not be
made of wood, nor is this in the power of the moving cause; for
it could not make a saw of wool or of wood. But if, as a matter of
fact, the same thing can be made of different material, clearly
the art, i.e. the moving principle, is the same; for if both the
matter and the moving cause were different, the product would
be so too.
When one inquires into the cause of something, one should,
since causes are spoken of in several senses, state all the
possible causes. what is the material cause of man? Shall we
say the menstrual fluid? What is moving cause? Shall we say
the seed? The formal cause? His essence. The final cause? His
end. But perhaps the latter two are the same. It is the
proximate causes we must state. What is the material cause?
We must name not fire or earth, but the matter peculiar to the
thing.
2386
5
Since some things are and are not, without coming to be and
ceasing to be, e.g. points, if they can be said to be, and in general
forms (for it is not white comes to be, but the wood comes to
be white, if everything that comes to be comes from something
and comes to be something), not all contraries can come from
one another, but it is in different senses that a pale man comes
2387
from a dark man, and pale comes from dark. Nor has everything
matter, but only those things which come to be and change into
one another. Those things which, without ever being in course
of changing, are or are not, have no matter.
There is difficulty in the question how the matter of each thing
is related to its contrary states. E.g. if the body is potentially
healthy, and disease is contrary to health, is it potentially both
healthy and diseased? And is water potentially wine and
vinegar? We answer that it is the matter of one in virtue of its
positive state and its form, and of the other in virtue of the
privation of its positive state and the corruption of it contrary to
its nature. It is also hard to say why wine is not said to be the
matter of vinegar nor potentially vinegar (though vinegar is
produced from it), and why a living man is not said to be
potentially dead. In fact they are not, but the corruptions in
question are accidental, and it is the matter of the animal that
is itself in virtue of its corruption the potency and matter of a
corpse, and it is water that is the matter of vinegar. For the
corpse comes from the animal, and vinegar from wine, as night
from day. And all the things which change thus into one
another must go back to their matter; e.g. if from a corpse is
produced an animal, the corpse first goes back to its matter, and
only then becomes an animal; and vinegar first goes back to
water, and only then becomes wine.
6
To return to the difficulty which has been stated with respect
both to definitions and to numbers, what is the cause of their
unity? In the case of all things which have several parts and in
which the totality is not, as it were, a mere heap, but the whole
2388
one, nor for being a kind of being; for each is by its nature a kind
of being and a kind of unity, not as being in the genus being or
one nor in the sense that being and unity can exist apart from
particulars.
Owing to the difficulty about unity some speak of
participation, and raise the question, what is the cause of
participation and what is it to participate; and others speak of
communion, as Lycophron says knowledge is a communion of
knowing with the soul; and others say life is a composition or
connexion of soul with body. Yet the same account applies to
all cases; for being healthy, too, will on this showing be either a
communion or a connexion or a composition of soul and
health, and the fact that the bronze is a triangle will be a
composition of bronze and triangle, and the fact that a thing is
white will be a composition of surface and whiteness. The
reason is that people look for a unifying formula, and a
difference, between potency and complete reality. But, as has
been said, the proximate matter and the form are one and the
same thing, the one potentially, and the other actually.
Therefore it is like asking what in general is the cause of unity
and of a things being one; for each thing is a unity, and the
potential and the actual are somehow one. Therefore there is no
other cause here unless there is something which caused the
movement from potency into actuality. And all things which
have no matter are without qualification essentially unities.
2390
Book
1
We have treated of that which is primarily and to which all the
other categories of being are referred i.e. of substance. For it is
in virtue of the concept of substance that the others also are
said to be quantity and quality and the like; for all will be
found to involve the concept of substance, as we said in the first
part of our work. And since being is in one way divided into
individual thing, quality, and quantity, and is in another way
distinguished in respect of potency and complete reality, and of
function, let us now add a discussion of potency and complete
reality. And first let us explain potency in the strictest sense,
which is, however, not the most useful for our present purpose.
For potency and actuality extend beyond the cases that involve
a reference to motion. But when we have spoken of this first
kind, we shall in our discussions of actuality explain the other
kinds of potency as well.
We have pointed out elsewhere that potency and the word
can have several senses. Of these we may neglect all the
potencies that are so called by an equivocation. For some are
called so by analogy, as in geometry we say one thing is or is not
a power of another by virtue of the presence or absence of
some relation between them. But all potencies that conform to
the same type are originative sources of some kind, and are
called potencies in reference to one primary kind of potency,
which is an originative source of change in another thing or in
the thing itself qua other. For one kind is a potency of being
acted on, i.e. the originative source, in the very thing acted on,
of its being passively changed by another thing or by itself qua
2391
2
Since some such originative sources are present in soulless
things, and others in things possessed of soul, and in soul, and
in the rational part of the soul, clearly some potencies will, be
non-rational and some will be non-rational and some will be
accompanied by a rational formula. This is why all arts, i.e. all
productive forms of knowledge, are potencies; they are
originative sources of change in another thing or in the artist
himself considered as other.
And each of those which are accompanied by a rational formula
is alike capable of contrary effects, but one non-rational power
produces one effect; e.g. the hot is capable only of heating, but
the medical art can produce both disease and health. The
reason is that science is a rational formula, and the same
rational formula explains a thing and its privation, only not in
the same way; and in a sense it applies to both, but in a sense it
applies rather to the positive fact. Therefore such sciences must
deal with contraries, but with one in virtue of their own nature
and with the other not in virtue of their nature; for the rational
formula applies to one object in virtue of that objects nature,
and to the other, in a sense, accidentally. For it is by denial and
removal that it exhibits the contrary; for the contrary is the
primary privation, and this is the removal of the positive term.
Now since contraries do not occur in the same thing, but
science is a potency which depends on the possession of a
rational formula, and the soul possesses an originative source of
movement; therefore, while the wholesome produces only
health and the calorific only heat and the frigorific only cold,
the scientific man produces both the contrary effects. For the
rational formula is one which applies to both, though not in the
2393
3
There are some who say, as the Megaric school does, that a
thing can act only when it is acting, and when it is not acting it
cannot act, e.g. that he who is not building cannot build, but
only he who is building, when he is building; and so in all other
cases. It is not hard to see the absurdities that attend this view.
For it is clear that on this view a man will not be a builder
unless he is building (for to be a builder is to be able to build),
and so with the other arts. If, then, it is impossible to have such
arts if one has not at some time learnt and acquired them, and
it is then impossible not to have them if one has not sometime
lost them (either by forgetfulness or by some accident or by
time; for it cannot be by the destruction of the object, for that
lasts for ever), a man will not have the art when he has ceased
to use it, and yet he may immediately build again; how then will
he have got the art? And similarly with regard to lifeless things;
nothing will be either cold or hot or sweet or perceptible at all if
2394
people are not perceiving it; so that the upholders of this view
will have to maintain the doctrine of Protagoras. But, indeed,
nothing will even have perception if it is not perceiving, i.e.
exercising its perception. If, then, that is blind which has not
sight though it would naturally have it, when it would naturally
have it and when it still exists, the same people will be blind
many times in the day and deaf too.
Again, if that which is deprived of potency is incapable, that
which is not happening will be incapable of happening; but he
who says of that which is incapable of happening either that it
is or that it will be will say what is untrue; for this is what
incapacity meant. Therefore these views do away with both
movement and becoming. For that which stands will always
stand, and that which sits will always sit, since if it is sitting it
will not get up; for that which, as we are told, cannot get up will
be incapable of getting up. But we cannot say this, so that
evidently potency and actuality are different (but these views
make potency and actuality the same, and so it is no small
thing they are seeking to annihilate), so that it is possible that a
thing may be capable of being and not he, and capable of not
being and yet he, and similarly with the other kinds of
predicate; it may be capable of walking and yet not walk, or
capable of not walking and yet walk. And a thing is capable of
doing something if there will be nothing impossible in its
having the actuality of that of which it is said to have the
capacity. I mean, for instance, if a thing is capable of sitting and
it is open to it to sit, there will be nothing impossible in its
actually sitting; and similarly if it is capable of being moved or
moving, or of standing or making to stand, or of being or
coming to be, or of not being or not coming to be.
The word actuality, which we connect with complete reality,
has, in the main, been extended from movements to other
things; for actuality in the strict sense is thought to be identical
2395
with movement. And so people do not assign movement to nonexistent things, though they do assign some other predicates.
E.g. they say that non-existent things are objects of thought and
desire, but not that they are moved; and this because, while ex
hypothesi they do not actually exist, they would have to exist
actually if they were moved. For of non-existent things some
exist potentially; but they do not exist, because they do not exist
in complete reality.
4
If what we have described is identical with the capable or
convertible with it, evidently it cannot be true to say this is
capable of being but will not be, which would imply that the
things incapable of being would on this showing vanish.
Suppose, for instance, that a man one who did not take
account of that which is incapable of being were to say that
the diagonal of the square is capable of being measured but will
not be measured, because a thing may well be capable of being
or coming to be, and yet not be or be about to be. But from the
premisses this necessarily follows, that if we actually supposed
that which is not, but is capable of being, to be or to have come
to be, there will be nothing impossible in this; but the result will
be impossible, for the measuring of the diagonal is impossible.
For the false and the impossible are not the same; that you are
standing now is false, but that you should be standing is not
impossible.
At the same time it is clear that if, when A is real, B must be
real, then, when A is possible, B also must be possible. For if B
need not be possible, there is nothing to prevent its not being
possible. Now let A be supposed possible. Then, when A was
2396
5
As all potencies are either innate, like the senses, or come by
practice, like the power of playing the flute, or by learning, like
artistic power, those which come by practice or by rational
formula we must acquire by previous exercise but this is not
necessary with those which are not of this nature and which
imply passivity.
Since that which is capable is capable of something and at
some time in some way (with all the other qualifications which
must be present in the definition), and since some things can
produce change according to a rational formula and their
potencies involve such a formula, while other things are
nonrational and their potencies are non-rational, and the
former potencies must be in a living thing, while the latter can
be both in the living and in the lifeless; as regards potencies of
the latter kind, when the agent and the patient meet in the way
2397
6
Since we have treated of the kind of potency which is related to
movement, let us discuss actuality what, and what kind of
thing, actuality is. For in the course of our analysis it will also
2398
ensures that this activity exists potentially, but not that the
infinite exists separately.
Since of the actions which have a limit none is an end but all
are relative to the end, e.g. the removing of fat, or fat-removal,
and the bodily parts themselves when one is making them thin
are in movement in this way (i.e. without being already that at
which the movement aims), this is not an action or at least not
a complete one (for it is not an end); but that movement in
which the end is present is an action. E.g. at the same time we
are seeing and have seen, are understanding and have
understood, are thinking and have thought (while it is not true
that at the same time we are learning and have learnt, or are
being cured and have been cured). At the same time we are
living well and have lived well, and are happy and have been
happy. If not, the process would have had sometime to cease, as
the process of making thin ceases: but, as things are, it does not
cease; we are living and have lived. Of these processes, then, we
must call the one set movements, and the other actualities. For
every movement is incomplete making thin, learning, walking,
building; these are movements, and incomplete at that. For it is
not true that at the same time a thing is walking and has
walked, or is building and has built, or is coming to be and has
come to be, or is being moved and has been moved, but what is
being moved is different from what has been moved, and what
is moving from what has moved. But it is the same thing that at
the same time has seen and is seeing, seeing, or is thinking and
has thought. The latter sort of process, then, I call an actuality,
and the former a movement.
2400
7
What, and what kind of thing, the actual is, may be taken as
explained by these and similar considerations. But we must
distinguish when a thing exists potentially and when it does
not; for it is not at any and every time. E.g. is earth potentially a
man? No but rather when it has already become seed, and
perhaps not even then. It is just as it is with being healed; not
everything can be healed by the medical art or by luck, but there
is a certain kind of thing which is capable of it, and only this is
potentially healthy. And (1) the delimiting mark of that which as
a result of thought comes to exist in complete reality from
having existed potentially is that if the agent has willed it it
comes to pass if nothing external hinders, while the condition
on the other side viz. in that which is healed is that nothing
in it hinders the result. It is on similar terms that we have what
is potentially a house; if nothing in the thing acted on i.e. in
the matter prevents it from becoming a house, and if there is
nothing which must be added or taken away or changed, this is
potentially a house; and the same is true of all other things the
source of whose becoming is external. And (2) in the cases in
which the source of the becoming is in the very thing which
comes to be, a thing is potentially all those things which it will
be of itself if nothing external hinders it. E.g. the seed is not yet
potentially a man; for it must be deposited in something other
than itself and undergo a change. But when through its own
motive principle it has already got such and such attributes, in
this state it is already potentially a man; while in the former
state it needs another motive principle, just as earth is not yet
potentially a statue (for it must first change in order to become
brass.)
It seems that when we call a thing not something else but
thaten e.g. a casket is not wood but wooden, and wood is
not earth but earthen, and again earth will illustrate our point
2401
8
From our discussion of the various senses of prior, it is clear
that actuality is prior to potency. And I mean by potency not
only that definite kind which is said to be a principle of change
in another thing or in the thing itself regarded as other, but in
2402
2403
will be doing that which is the object of the science; for he who
is learning it does not possess it. But since, of that which is
coming to be, some part must have come to be, and, of that
which, in general, is changing, some part must have changed
(this is shown in the treatise on movement), he who is learning
must, it would seem, possess some part of the science. But here
too, then, it is clear that actuality is in this sense also, viz. in
order of generation and of time, prior to potency.
But (3) it is also prior in substantiality; firstly, (a) because the
things that are posterior in becoming are prior in form and in
substantiality (e.g. man is prior to boy and human being to seed;
for the one already has its form, and the other has not), and
because everything that comes to be moves towards a principle,
i.e. an end (for that for the sake of which a thing is, is its
principle, and the becoming is for the sake of the end), and the
actuality is the end, and it is for the sake of this that the
potency is acquired. For animals do not see in order that they
may have sight, but they have sight that they may see. And
similarly men have the art of building that they may build, and
theoretical science that they may theorize; but they do not
theorize that they may have theoretical science, except those
who are learning by practice; and these do not theorize except
in a limited sense, or because they have no need to theorize.
Further, matter exists in a potential state, just because it may
come to its form; and when it exists actually, then it is in its
form. And the same holds good in all cases, even those in which
the end is a movement. And so, as teachers think they have
achieved their end when they have exhibited the pupil at work,
nature does likewise. For if this is not the case, we shall have
Pausons Hermes over again, since it will be hard to say about
the knowledge, as about the figure in the picture, whether it is
within or without. For the action is the end, and the actuality is
the action. And so even the word actuality is derived from
action, and points to the complete reality.
2404
And while in some cases the exercise is the ultimate thing (e.g.
in sight the ultimate thing is seeing, and no other product
besides this results from sight), but from some things a product
follows (e.g. from the art of building there results a house as
well as the act of building), yet none the less the act is in the
former case the end and in the latter more of an end than the
potency is. For the act of building is realized in the thing that is
being built, and comes to be, and is, at the same time as the
house.
Where, then, the result is something apart from the exercise,
the actuality is in the thing that is being made, e.g. the act of
building is in the thing that is being built and that of weaving in
the thing that is being woven, and similarly in all other cases,
and in general the movement is in the thing that is being
moved; but where there is no product apart from the actuality,
the actuality is present in the agents, e.g. the act of seeing is in
the seeing subject and that of theorizing in the theorizing
subject and the life is in the soul (and therefore well-being also;
for it is a certain kind of life).
Obviously, therefore, the substance or form is actuality.
According to this argument, then, it is obvious that actuality is
prior in substantial being to potency; and as we have said, one
actuality always precedes another in time right back to the
actuality of the eternal prime mover.
But (b) actuality is prior in a stricter sense also; for eternal
things are prior in substance to perishable things, and no
eternal thing exists potentially. The reason is this. Every potency
is at one and the same time a potency of the opposite; for, while
that which is not capable of being present in a subject cannot be
present, everything that is capable of being may possibly not be
actual. That, then, which is capable of being may either be or
not be; the same thing, then, is capable both of being and of not
2405
being. And that which is capable of not being may possibly not
be; and that which may possibly not be is perishable, either in
the full sense, or in the precise sense in which it is said that it
possibly may not be, i.e. in respect either of place or of quantity
or quality; in the full sense means in respect of substance.
Nothing, then, which is in the full sense imperishable is in the
full sense potentially existent (though there is nothing to
prevent its being so in some respect, e.g. potentially of a certain
quality or in a certain place); all imperishable things, then, exist
actually. Nor can anything which is of necessity exist
potentially; yet these things are primary; for if these did not
exist, nothing would exist. Nor does eternal movement, if there
be such, exist potentially; and, if there is an eternal mobile, it is
not in motion in virtue of a potentiality, except in respect of
whence and whither (there is nothing to prevent its having
matter which makes it capable of movement in various
directions). And so the sun and the stars and the whole heaven
are ever active, and there is no fear that they may sometime
stand still, as the natural philosophers fear they may. Nor do
they tire in this activity; for movement is not for them, as it is
for perishable things, connected with the potentiality for
opposites, so that the continuity of the movement should be
laborious; for it is that kind of substance which is matter and
potency, not actuality, that causes this.
Imperishable things are imitated by those that are involved in
change, e.g. earth and fire. For these also are ever active; for
they have their movement of themselves and in themselves. But
the other potencies, according to our previous discussion, are all
potencies for opposites; for that which can move another in this
way can also move it not in this way, i.e. if it acts according to a
rational formula; and the same non-rational potencies will
produce opposite results by their presence or absence.
2406
9
That the actuality is also better and more valuable than the
good potency is evident from the following argument.
Everything of which we say that it can do something, is alike
capable of contraries, e.g. that of which we say that it can be
well is the same as that which can be ill, and has both potencies
at once; for the same potency is a potency of health and illness,
of rest and motion, of building and throwing down, of being
built and being thrown down. The capacity for contraries, then,
is present at the same time; but contraries cannot be present at
the same time, and the actualities also cannot be present at the
same time, e.g. health and illness. Therefore, while the good
must be one of them, the capacity is both alike, or neither; the
actuality, then, is better. Also in the case of bad things the end
or actuality must be worse than the potency; for that which
can is both contraries alike. Clearly, then, the bad does not
exist apart from bad things; for the bad is in its nature posterior
to the potency. And therefore we may also say that in the things
which are from the beginning, i.e. in eternal things, there is
nothing bad, nothing defective, nothing perverted (for
perversion is something bad).
2407
10
The terms being and non-being are employed firstly with
reference to the categories, and secondly with reference to the
potency or actuality of these or their non-potency or
nonactuality, and thirdly in the sense of true and false. This
depends, on the side of the objects, on their being combined or
separated, so that he who thinks the separated to be separated
and the combined to be combined has the truth, while he
whose thought is in a state contrary to that of the objects is in
error. This being so, when is what is called truth or falsity
present, and when is it not? We must consider what we mean
by these terms. It is not because we think truly that you are
2408
pale, that you are pale, but because you are pale we who say
this have the truth. If, then, some things are always combined
and cannot be separated, and others are always separated and
cannot be combined, while others are capable either of
combination or of separation, being is being combined and
one, and not being is being not combined but more than one.
Regarding contingent facts, then, the same opinion or the same
statement comes to be false and true, and it is possible for it to
be at one time correct and at another erroneous; but regarding
things that cannot be otherwise opinions are not at one time
true and at another false, but the same opinions are always true
or always false.
But with regard to incomposites, what is being or not being, and
truth or falsity? A thing of this sort is not composite, so as to
be when it is compounded, and not to be if it is separated, like
that the wood is white or that the diagonal is
incommensurable; nor will truth and falsity be still present in
the same way as in the previous cases. In fact, as truth is not
the same in these cases, so also being is not the same; but (a)
truth or falsity is as follows contact and assertion are truth
(assertion not being the same as affirmation), and ignorance is
non-contact. For it is not possible to be in error regarding the
question what a thing is, save in an accidental sense; and the
same holds good regarding non-composite substances (for it is
not possible to be in error about them). And they all exist
actually, not potentially; for otherwise they would have come to
be and ceased to be; but, as it is, being itself does not come to be
(nor cease to be); for if it had done so it would have had to come
out of something. About the things, then, which are essences
and actualities, it is not possible to be in error, but only to know
them or not to know them. But we do inquire what they are, viz.
whether they are of such and such a nature or not.
2409
(b) As regards the being that answers to truth and the nonbeing that answers to falsity, in one case there is truth if the
subject and the attribute are really combined, and falsity if they
are not combined; in the other case, if the object is existent it
exists in a particular way, and if it does not exist in this way
does not exist at all. And truth means knowing these objects,
and falsity does not exist, nor error, but only ignorance and
not an ignorance which is like blindness; for blindness is akin to
a total absence of the faculty of thinking.
It is evident also that about unchangeable things there can be
no error in respect of time, if we assume them to be
unchangeable. E.g. if we suppose that the triangle does not
change, we shall not suppose that at one time its angles are
equal to two right angles while at another time they are not (for
that would imply change). It is possible, however, to suppose
that one member of such a class has a certain attribute and
another has not; e.g. while we may suppose that no even
number is prime, we may suppose that some are and some are
not. But regarding a numerically single number not even this
form of error is possible; for we cannot in this case suppose that
one instance has an attribute and another has not, but whether
our judgement be true or false, it is implied that the fact is
eternal.
2410
Book
1
We have said previously, in our distinction of the various
meanings of words, that one has several meanings; the things
that are directly and of their own nature and not accidentally
called one may be summarized under four heads, though the
word is used in more senses. (1) There is the continuous, either
in general, or especially that which is continuous by nature and
not by contact nor by being together; and of these, that has
more unity and is prior, whose movement is more indivisible
and simpler. (2) That which is a whole and has a certain shape
and form is one in a still higher degree; and especially if a thing
is of this sort by nature, and not by force like the things which
are unified by glue or nails or by being tied together, i.e. if it has
in itself the cause of its continuity. A thing is of this sort
because its movement is one and indivisible in place and time;
so that evidently if a thing has by nature a principle of
movement that is of the first kind (i.e. local movement) and the
first in that kind (i.e. circular movement), this is in the primary
sense one extended thing. Some things, then, are one in this
way, qua continuous or whole, and the other things that are one
are those whose definition is one. Of this sort are the things the
thought of which is one, i.e. those the thought of which is
indivisible; and it is indivisible if the thing is indivisible in kind
or in number. (3) In number, then, the individual is indivisible,
and (4) in kind, that which in intelligibility and in knowledge is
indivisible, so that that which causes substances to be one must
be one in the primary sense. One, then, has all these meanings
the naturally continuous and the whole, and the individual
and the universal. And all these are one because in some cases
2411
2413
2414
2
With regard to the substance and nature of the one we must ask
in which of two ways it exists. This is the very question that we
reviewed in our discussion of problems, viz. what the one is and
how we must conceive of it, whether we must take the one
itself as being a substance (as both the Pythagoreans say in
earlier and Plato in later times), or there is, rather, an underlying
nature and the one should be described more intelligibly and
more in the manner of the physical philosophers, of whom one
says the one is love, another says it is air, and another the
indefinite.
If, then, no universal can be a substance, as has been said our
discussion of substance and being, and if being itself cannot be
a substance in the sense of a one apart from the many (for it is
common to the many), but is only a predicate, clearly unity also
cannot be a substance; for being and unity are the most
universal of all predicates. Therefore, on the one hand, genera
are not certain entities and substances separable from other
things; and on the other hand the one cannot be a genus, for
the same reasons for which being and substance cannot be
genera.
2415
3
The one and the many are opposed in several ways, of which
one is the opposition of the one and plurality as indivisible and
divisible; for that which is either divided or divisible is called a
plurality, and that which is indivisible or not divided is called
one. Now since opposition is of four kinds, and one of these two
terms is privative in meaning, they must be contraries, and
neither contradictory nor correlative in meaning. And the one
derives its name and its explanation from its contrary, the
indivisible from the divisible, because plurality and the divisible
is more perceptible than the indivisible, so that in definition
plurality is prior to the indivisible, because of the conditions of
perception.
To the one belong, as we indicated graphically in our distinction
of the contraries, the same and the like and the equal, and to
plurality belong the other and the unlike and the unequal. The
same has several meanings; (1) we sometimes mean the same
numerically; again, (2) we call a thing the same if it is one both
in definition and in number, e.g. you are one with yourself both
in form and in matter; and again, (3) if the definition of its
primary essence is one; e.g. equal straight lines are the same,
and so are equal and equal-angled quadrilaterals; there are
many such, but in these equality constitutes unity.
2417
Things are like if, not being absolutely the same, nor without
difference in respect of their concrete substance, they are the
same in form; e.g. the larger square is like the smaller, and
unequal straight lines are like; they are like, but not absolutely
the same. Other things are like, if, having the same form, and
being things in which difference of degree is possible, they have
no difference of degree. Other things, if they have a quality that
is in form one and same e.g. whiteness in a greater or less
degree, are called like because their form is one. Other things
are called like if the qualities they have in common are more
numerous than those in which they differ either the qualities
in general or the prominent qualities; e.g. tin is like silver, qua
white, and gold is like fire, qua yellow and red.
Evidently, then, other and unlike also have several meanings.
And the other in one sense is the opposite of the same (so that
everything is either the same as or other than everything else).
In another sense things are other unless both their matter and
their definition are one (so that you are other than your
neighbour). The other in the third sense is exemplified in the
objects of mathematics. Other or the same can therefore be
predicated of everything with regard to everything else but
only if the things are one and existent, for other is not the
contradictory of the same; which is why it is not predicated of
non-existent things (while not the same is so predicated). It is
predicated of all existing things; for everything that is existent
and one is by its very nature either one or not one with
anything else.
The other, then, and the same are thus opposed. But difference
is not the same as otherness. For the other and that which it is
other than need not be other in some definite respect (for
everything that is existent is either other or the same), but that
which is different is different from some particular thing in
some particular respect, so that there must be something
2418
4
Since things which differ may differ from one another more or
less, there is also a greatest difference, and this I call contrariety.
That contrariety is the greatest difference is made clear by
induction. For things which differ in genus have no way to one
another, but are too far distant and are not comparable; and for
things that differ in species the extremes from which
generation takes place are the contraries, and the distance
between extremes and therefore that between the contraries
is the greatest.
But surely that which is greatest in each class is complete. For
that is greatest which cannot be exceeded, and that is complete
beyond which nothing can be found. For the complete
difference marks the end of a series (just as the other things
which are called complete are so called because they have
2419
2420
5
Since one thing has one contrary, we might raise the question
how the one is opposed to the many, and the equal to the great
and the small. For if we used the word whether only in an
antithesis such as whether it is white or black, or whether it is
white or not white (we do not ask whether it is a man or
white), unless we are proceeding on a prior assumption and
asking something such as whether it was Cleon or Socrates
that came as this is not a necessary disjunction in any class of
things; yet even this is an extension from the case of opposites;
for opposites alone cannot be present together; and we assume
this incompatibility here too in asking which of the two came;
for if they might both have come, the question would have been
absurd; but if they might, even so this falls just as much into an
antithesis, that of the one or many, i.e. whether both came or
one of the two: if, then, the question whether is always
concerned with opposites, and we can ask whether it is greater
or less or equal, what is the opposition of the equal to the other
two? It is not contrary either to one alone or to both; for why
should it be contrary to the greater rather than to the less?
Further, the equal is contrary to the unequal. Therefore if it is
contrary to the greater and the less, it will be contrary to more
2422
things than one. But if the unequal means the same as both the
greater and the less together, the equal will be opposite to both
(and the difficulty supports those who say the unequal is a
two), but it follows that one thing is contrary to two others,
which is impossible. Again, the equal is evidently intermediate
between the great and the small, but no contrariety is either
observed to be intermediate, or, from its definition, can be so;
for it would not be complete if it were intermediate between
any two things, but rather it always has something intermediate
between its own terms.
It remains, then, that it is opposed either as negation or as
privation. It cannot be the negation or privation of one of the
two; for why of the great rather than of the small? It is, then, the
privative negation of both. This is why whether is said with
reference to both, not to one of the two (e.g. whether it is
greater or equal or whether it is equal or less); there are
always three cases. But it is not a necessary privation; for not
everything which is not greater or less is equal, but only the
things which are of such a nature as to have these attributes.
The equal, then, is that which is neither great nor small but is
naturally fitted to be either great or small; and it is opposed to
both as a privative negation (and therefore is also intermediate).
And that which is neither good nor bad is opposed to both, but
has no name; for each of these has several meanings and the
recipient subject is not one; but that which is neither white nor
black has more claim to unity. Yet even this has not one name,
though the colours of which this negation is privatively
predicated are in a way limited; for they must be either grey or
yellow or something else of the kind. Therefore it is an incorrect
criticism that is passed by those who think that all such phrases
are used in the same way, so that that which is neither a shoe
nor a hand would be intermediate between a shoe and a hand,
since that which is neither good nor bad is intermediate
2423
6
We might raise similar questions about the one and the many.
For if the many are absolutely opposed to the one, certain
impossible results follow. One will then be few, whether few be
treated here as singular or plural; for the many are opposed also
to the few. Further, two will be many, since the double is
multiple and double derives its meaning from two; therefore
one will be few; for what is that in comparison with which two
are many, except one, which must therefore be few? For there is
nothing fewer. Further, if the much and the little are in plurality
what the long and the short are in length, and whatever is
much is also many, and the many are much (unless, indeed,
there is a difference in the case of an easily-bounded
continuum), the little (or few) will be a plurality. Therefore one is
a plurality if it is few; and this it must be, if two are many. But
perhaps, while the many are in a sense said to be also much,
it is with a difference; e.g. water is much but not many. But
many is applied to the things that are divisible; in the one
sense it means a plurality which is excessive either absolutely
or relatively (while few is similarly a plurality which is
deficient), and in another sense it means number, in which
sense alone it is opposed to the one. For we say one or many,
just as if one were to say one and ones or white thing and
2424
7
Since contraries admit of an intermediate and in some cases
have it, intermediates must be composed of the contraries. For
(1) all intermediates are in the same genus as the things
between which they stand. For we call those things
intermediates, into which that which changes must change
first; e.g. if we were to pass from the highest string to the lowest
by the smallest intervals, we should come sooner to the
intermediate notes, and in colours if we were to pass from
white to black, we should come sooner to crimson and grey
than to black; and similarly in all other cases. But to change
from one genus to another genus is not possible except in an
incidental way, as from colour to figure. Intermediates, then,
must be in the same genus both as one another and as the
things they stand between.
But (2) all intermediates stand between opposites of some kind;
for only between these can change take place in virtue of their
own nature (so that an intermediate is impossible between
things which are not opposite; for then there would be change
which was not from one opposite towards the other). Of
opposites, contradictories admit of no middle term; for this is
what contradiction is an opposition, one or other side of
2426
2427
8
That which is other in species is other than something in
something, and this must belong to both; e.g. if it is an animal
other in species, both are animals. The things, then, which are
other in species must be in the same genus. For by genus I
mean that one identical thing which is predicated of both and is
differentiated in no merely accidental way, whether conceived
as matter or otherwise. For not only must the common nature
attach to the different things, e.g. not only must both be
animals, but this very animality must also be different for each
2428
(e.g. in the one case equinity, in the other humanity), and so this
common nature is specifically different for each from what it is
for the other. One, then, will be in virtue of its own nature one
sort of animal, and the other another, e.g. one a horse and the
other a man. This difference, then, must be an otherness of the
genus. For I give the name of difference in the genus an
otherness which makes the genus itself other.
This, then, will be a contrariety (as can be shown also by
induction). For all things are divided by opposites, and it has
been proved that contraries are in the same genus. For
contrariety was seen to be complete difference; and all
difference in species is a difference from something in
something; so that this is the same for both and is their genus.
(Hence also all contraries which are different in species and not
in genus are in the same line of predication, and other than one
another in the highest degree for the difference is complete ,
and cannot be present along with one another.) The difference,
then, is a contrariety.
This, then, is what it is to be other in species to have a
contrariety, being in the same genus and being indivisible (and
those things are the same in species which have no contrariety,
being indivisible); we say being indivisible, for in the process of
division contrarieties arise in the intermediate stages before we
come to the indivisibles. Evidently, therefore, with reference to
that which is called the genus, none of the species-of-a-genus is
either the same as it or other than it in species (and this is
fitting; for the matter is indicated by negation, and the genus is
the matter of that of which it is called the genus, not in the
sense in which we speak of the genus or family of the
Heraclidae, but in that in which the genus is an element in a
things nature), nor is it so with reference to things which are
not in the same genus, but it will differ in genus from them, and
in species from things in the same genus. For a things
2429
9
One might raise the question, why woman does not differ from
man in species, when female and male are contrary and their
difference is a contrariety; and why a female and a male animal
are not different in species, though this difference belongs to
animal in virtue of its own nature, and not as paleness or
darkness does; both female and male belong to it qua animal.
This question is almost the same as the other, why one
contrariety makes things different in species and another does
not, e.g. with feet and with wings do, but paleness and
darkness do not. Perhaps it is because the former are
modifications peculiar to the genus, and the latter are less so.
And since one element is definition and one is matter,
contrarieties which are in the definition make a difference in
species, but those which are in the thing taken as including its
matter do not make one. And so paleness in a man, or darkness,
does not make one, nor is there a difference in species between
the pale man and the dark man, not even if each of them be
denoted by one word. For man is here being considered on his
material side, and matter does not create a difference; for it
does not make individual men species of man, though the flesh
and the bones of which this man and that man consist are
other. The concrete thing is other, but not other in species,
because in the definition there is no contrariety. This is the
ultimate indivisible kind. Callias is definition + matter, the pale
man, then, is so also, because it is the individual Callias that is
pale; man, then, is pale only incidentally. Neither do a brazen
and a wooden circle, then, differ in species; and if a brazen
2430
10
Since contraries are other in form, and the perishable and the
imperishable are contraries (for privation is a determinate
incapacity), the perishable and the imperishable must be
different in kind.
Now so far we have spoken of the general terms themselves, so
that it might be thought not to be necessary that every
imperishable thing should be different from every perishable
thing in form, just as not every pale thing is different in form
from every dark thing. For the same thing can be both, and even
at the same time if it is a universal (e.g. man can be both pale
and dark), and if it is an individual it can still be both; for the
2431
same man can be, though not at the same time, pale and dark.
Yet pale is contrary to dark.
But while some contraries belong to certain things by accident
(e.g. both those now mentioned and many others), others
cannot, and among these are perishable and imperishable. For
nothing is by accident perishable. For what is accidental is
capable of not being present, but perishableness is one of the
attributes that belong of necessity to the things to which they
belong; or else one and the same thing may be perishable and
imperishable, if perishableness is capable of not belonging to it.
Perishableness then must either be the essence or be present in
the essence of each perishable thing. The same account holds
good for imperishableness also; for both are attributes which
are present of necessity. The characteristics, then, in respect of
which and in direct consequence of which one thing is
perishable and another imperishable, are opposite, so that the
things must be different in kind.
Evidently, then, there cannot be Forms such as some maintain,
for then one man would be perishable and another
imperishable. Yet the Forms are said to be the same in form
with the individuals and not merely to have the same name; but
things which differ in kind are farther apart than those which
differ in form.
2432
Book
1
That Wisdom is a science of first principles is evident from the
introductory chapters, in which we have raised objections to the
statements of others about the first principles; but one might
ask the question whether Wisdom is to be conceived as one
science or as several. If as one, it may be objected that one
science always deals with contraries, but the first principles are
not contrary. If it is not one, what sort of sciences are those with
which it is to be identified?
Further, is it the business of one science, or of more than one, to
examine the first principles of demonstration? If of one, why of
this rather than of any other? If of more, what sort of sciences
must these be said to be?
Further, does Wisdom investigate all substances or not? If not
all, it is hard to say which; but if, being one, it investigates them
all, it is doubtful how the same science can embrace several
subject-matters.
Further, does it deal with substances only or also with their
attributes? If in the case of attributes demonstration is possible,
in that of substances it is not. But if the two sciences are
different, what is each of them and which is Wisdom? If we
think of it as demonstrative, the science of the attributes is
Wisdom, but if as dealing with what is primary, the science of
substances claims the tide.
But again the science we are looking for must not be supposed
to deal with the causes which have been mentioned in the
2433
Physics. For (A) it does not deal with the final cause (for that is
the nature of the good, and this is found in the field of action
and movement; and it is the first mover for that is the nature
of the end but in the case of things unmovable there is
nothing that moved them first), and (B) in general it is hard to
say whether perchance the science we are now looking for deals
with perceptible substances or not with them, but with certain
others. If with others, it must deal either with the Forms or with
the objects of mathematics. Now (a) evidently the Forms do not
exist. (But it is hard to say, even if one suppose them to exist,
why in the world the same is not true of the other things of
which there are Forms, as of the objects of mathematics. I mean
that these thinkers place the objects of mathematics between
the Forms and perceptible things, as a kind of third set of things
apart both from the Forms and from the things in this world;
but there is not a third man or horse besides the ideal and the
individuals. If on the other hand it is not as they say, with what
sort of things must the mathematician be supposed to deal?
Certainly not with the things in this world; for none of these is
the sort of thing which the mathematical sciences demand.)
Nor (b) does the science which we are now seeking treat of the
objects of mathematics; for none of them can exist separately.
But again it does not deal with perceptible substances; for they
are perishable.
In general one might raise the question, to what kind of science
it belongs to discuss the difficulties about the matter of the
objects of mathematics. Neither to physics (because the whole
inquiry of the physicist is about the things that have in
themselves a principle. of movement and rest), nor yet to the
science which inquires into demonstration and science; for this
is just the subject which it investigates. It remains then that it is
the philosophy which we have set before ourselves that treats
of those subjects.
2434
2
Further, must we suppose something apart from individual
things, or is it these that the science we are seeking treats of?
But these are infinite in number. Yet the things that are apart
from the individuals are genera or species; but the science we
now seek treats of neither of these. The reason why this is
2435
eternal, is eternal; for why, if the principle is eternal, are not the
things that fall under the principle also eternal? But if it is
perishable another principle is involved to account for it, and
another to account for that, and this will go on to infinity.
If on the other hand we are to set up what are thought to be the
most unchangeable principles, being and unity, firstly, if each of
these does not indicate a this or substance, how will they be
separable and independent? Yet we expect the eternal and
primary principles to be so. But if each of them does signify a
this or substance, all things that are are substances; for being
is predicated of all things (and unity also of some); but that all
things that are are substance is false. Further, how can they be
right who say that the first principle is unity and this is
substance, and generate number as the first product from unity
and from matter, assert that number is substance? How are we
to think of two, and each of the other numbers composed of
units, as one? On this point neither do they say anything nor is
it easy to say anything. But if we are to suppose lines or what
comes after these (I mean the primary surfaces) to be principles,
these at least are not separable substances, but sections and
divisions the former of surfaces, the latter of bodies (while
points are sections and divisions of lines); and further they are
limits of these same things; and all these are in other things
and none is separable. Further, how are we to suppose that
there is a substance of unity and the point? Every substance
comes into being by a gradual process, but a point does not; for
the point is a division.
A further difficulty is raised by the fact that all knowledge is of
universals and of the such, but substance is not a universal,
but is rather a this a separable thing, so that if there is
knowledge about the first principles, the question arises, how
are we to suppose the first principle to be substance?
2437
3
Since the science of the philosopher treats of being qua being
universally and not in respect of a part of it, and being has
many senses and is not used in one only, it follows that if the
word is used equivocally and in virtue of nothing common to its
various uses, being does not fall under one science (for the
meanings of an equivocal term do not form one genus); but if
the word is used in virtue of something common, being will fall
under one science. The term seems to be used in the way we
have mentioned, like medical and healthy. For each of these
also we use in many senses. Terms are used in this way by
virtue of some kind of reference, in the one case to medical
science, in the other to health, in others to something else, but
in each case to one identical concept. For a discussion and a
knife are called medical because the former proceeds from
medical science, and the latter is useful to it. And a thing is
called healthy in a similar way; one thing because it is
indicative of health, another because it is productive of it. And
the same is true in the other cases. Everything that is, then, is
said to be in this same way; each thing that is is said to be
2438
2439
4
Since even the mathematician uses the common axioms only in
a special application, it must be the business of first philosophy
to examine the principles of mathematics also. That when
equals are taken from equals the remainders are equal, is
common to all quantities, but mathematics studies a part of its
proper matter which it has detached, e.g. lines or angles or
numbers or some other kind of quantity not, however, qua
being but in so far as each of them is continuous in one or two
or three dimensions; but philosophy does not inquire about
particular subjects in so far as each of them has some attribute
2440
5
There is a principle in things, about which we cannot be
deceived, but must always, on the contrary recognize the truth,
viz. that the same thing cannot at one and the same time be
and not be, or admit any other similar pair of opposites. About
such matters there is no proof in the full sense, though there is
proof ad hominem. For it is not possible to infer this truth itself
from a more certain principle, yet this is necessary if there is to
be completed proof of it in the full sense. But he who wants to
prove to the asserter of opposites that he is wrong must get
from him an admission which shall be identical with the
principle that the same thing cannot be and not be at one and
the same time, but shall not seem to be identical; for thus alone
can his thesis be demonstrated to the man who asserts that
opposite statements can be truly made about the same subject.
Those, then, who are to join in argument with one another must
to some extent understand one another; for if this does not
happen how are they to join in argument with one another?
Therefore every word must be intelligible and indicate
something, and not many things but only one; and if it signifies
more than one thing, it must be made plain to which of these
the word is being applied. He, then, who says this is and is not
2441
2442
6
The saying of Protagoras is like the views we have mentioned;
he said that man is the measure of all things, meaning simply
that that which seems to each man also assuredly is. If this is
so, it follows that the same thing both is and is not, and is bad
and good, and that the contents of all other opposite
statements are true, because often a particular thing appears
beautiful to some and the contrary of beautiful to others, and
that which appears to each man is the measure. This difficulty
may be solved by considering the source of this opinion. It
seems to have arisen in some cases from the doctrine of the
natural philosophers, and in others from the fact that all men
have not the same views about the same things, but a particular
thing appears pleasant to some and the contrary of pleasant to
others.
That nothing comes to be out of that which is not, but
everything out of that which is, is a dogma common to nearly
all the natural philosophers. Since, then, white cannot come to
be if the perfectly white and in no respect not-white existed
before, that which becomes white must come from that which
is not white; so that it must come to be out of that which is not
(so they argue), unless the same thing was at the beginning
white and not-white. But it is not hard to solve this difficulty;
for we have said in our works on physics in what sense things
that come to be come to be from that which is not, and in what
sense from that which is.
2443
2444
not true why should they not endure in respect of quality? For
the assertion of contradictory statements about the same thing
seems to have arisen largely from the belief that the quantity of
bodies does not endure, which, our opponents hold, justifies
them in saying that the same thing both is and is not four
cubits long. But essence depends on quality, and this is of
determinate nature, though quantity is of indeterminate.
Further, when the doctor orders people to take some particular
food, why do they take it? In what respect is this is bread truer
than this is not bread? And so it would make no difference
whether one ate or not. But as a matter of fact they take the
food which is ordered, assuming that they know the truth about
it and that it is bread. Yet they should not, if there were no fixed
constant nature in sensible things, but all natures moved and
flowed for ever.
Again, if we are always changing and never remain the same,
what wonder is it if to us, as to the sick, things never appear the
same? (For to them also, because they are not in the same
condition as when they were well, sensible qualities do not
appear alike; yet, for all that, the sensible things themselves
need not share in any change, though they produce different,
and not identical, sensations in the sick. And the same must
surely happen to the healthy if the afore-said change takes
place.) But if we do not change but remain the same, there will
be something that endures.
As for those to whom the difficulties mentioned are suggested
by reasoning, it is not easy to solve the difficulties to their
satisfaction, unless they will posit something and no longer
demand a reason for it; for it is only thus that all reasoning and
all proof is accomplished; if they posit nothing, they destroy
discussion and all reasoning. Therefore with such men there is
no reasoning. But as for those who are perplexed by the
2445
2446
7
Every science seeks certain principles and causes for each of its
objects e.g. medicine and gymnastics and each of the other
sciences, whether productive or mathematical. For each of
these marks off a certain class of things for itself and busies
itself about this as about something existing and real, not
however qua real; the science that does this is another distinct
from these. Of the sciences mentioned each gets somehow the
what in some class of things and tries to prove the other
truths, with more or less precision. Some get the what through
perception, others by hypothesis; so that it is clear from an
induction of this sort that there is no demonstration. of the
substance or what.
There is a science of nature, and evidently it must be different
both from practical and from productive science. For in the case
of productive science the principle of movement is in the
producer and not in the product, and is either an art or some
other faculty. And similarly in practical science the movement is
not in the thing done, but rather in the doers. But the science of
the natural philosopher deals with the things that have in
themselves a principle of movement. It is clear from these facts,
then, that natural science must be neither practical nor
productive, but theoretical (for it must fall into some one of
these classes). And since each of the sciences must somehow
know the what and use this as a principle, we must not fall to
observe how the natural philosopher should define things and
how he should state the definition of the essence whether as
akin to snub or rather to concave. For of these the definition
of snub includes the matter of the thing, but that of concave
is independent of the matter; for snubness is found in a nose, so
that we look for its definition without eliminating the nose, for
what is snub is a concave nose. Evidently then the definition of
2447
flesh also and of the eye and of the other parts must always be
stated without eliminating the matter.
Since there is a science of being qua being and capable of
existing apart, we must consider whether this is to be regarded
as the same as physics or rather as different. Physics deals with
the things that have a principle of movement in themselves;
mathematics is theoretical, and is a science that deals with
things that are at rest, but its subjects cannot exist apart.
Therefore about that which can exist apart and is unmovable
there is a science different from both of these, if there is a
substance of this nature (I mean separable and unmovable), as
we shall try to prove there is. And if there is such a kind of thing
in the world, here must surely be the divine, and this must be
the first and most dominant principle. Evidently, then, there are
three kinds of theoretical sciences physics, mathematics,
theology. The class of theoretical sciences is the best, and of
these themselves the last named is best; for it deals with the
highest of existing things, and each science is called better or
worse in virtue of its proper object.
One might raise the question whether the science of being qua
being is to be regarded as universal or not. Each of the
mathematical sciences deals with some one determinate class
of things, but universal mathematics applies alike to all. Now if
natural substances are the first of existing things, physics must
be the first of sciences; but if there is another entity and
substance, separable and unmovable, the knowledge of it must
be different and prior to physics and universal because it is
prior.
2448
8
Since being in general has several senses, of which one is
being by accident, we must consider first that which is in this
sense. Evidently none of the traditional sciences busies itself
about the accidental. For neither does architecture consider
what will happen to those who are to use the house (e.g.
whether they have a painful life in it or not), nor does weaving,
or shoemaking, or the confectioners art, do the like; but each of
these sciences considers only what is peculiar to it, i.e. its
proper end. And as for the argument that when he who is
musical becomes lettered hell be both at once, not having been
both before; and that which is, not always having been, must
have come to be; therefore he must have at once become
musical and lettered, this none of the recognized sciences
considers, but only sophistic; for this alone busies itself about
the accidental, so that Plato is not far wrong when he says that
the sophist spends his time on non-being.
That a science of the accidental is not even possible will be
evident if we try to see what the accidental really is. We say that
everything either is always and of necessity (necessity not in
the sense of violence, but that which we appeal to in
demonstrations), or is for the most part, or is neither for the
most part, nor always and of necessity, but merely as it chances;
e.g. there might be cold in the dogdays, but this occurs neither
always and of necessity, nor for the most part, though it might
happen sometimes. The accidental, then, is what occurs, but not
always nor of necessity, nor for the most part. Now we have said
what the accidental is, and it is obvious why there is no science
of such a thing; for all science is of that which is always or for
the most part, but the accidental is in neither of these classes.
Evidently there are not causes and principles of the accidental,
of the same kind as there are of the essential; for if there were,
2449
2450
9
Some things are only actually, some potentially, some
potentially and actually, what they are, viz. in one case a
particular reality, in another, characterized by a particular
quantity, or the like. There is no movement apart from things;
for change is always according to the categories of being, and
there is nothing common to these and in no one category. But
each of the categories belongs to all its subjects in either of two
ways (e.g. this-ness for one kind of it is positive form, and
the other is privation; and as regards quality one kind is white
and the other black, and as regards quantity one kind is
complete and the other incomplete, and as regards spatial
movement one is upwards and the other downwards, or one
thing is light and another heavy); so that there are as many
kinds of movement and change as of being. There being a
distinction in each class of things between the potential and the
completely real, I call the actuality of the potential as such,
movement. That what we say is true, is plain from the following
facts. When the buildable, in so far as it is what we mean by
buildable, exists actually, it is being built, and this is the
process of building. Similarly with learning, healing, walking,
leaping, ageing, ripening. Movement takes when the complete
reality itself exists, and neither earlier nor later. The complete
reality, then, of that which exists potentially, when it is
2451
completely real and actual, not qua itself, but qua movable, is
movement. By qua I mean this: bronze is potentially a statue;
but yet it is not the complete reality of bronze qua bronze that
is movement. For it is not the same thing to be bronze and to be
a certain potency. If it were absolutely the same in its definition,
the complete reality of bronze would have been a movement.
But it is not the same. (This is evident in the case of contraries;
for to be capable of being well and to be capable of being ill are
not the same for if they were, being well and being ill would
have been the same it is that which underlies and is healthy
or diseased, whether it is moisture or blood, that is one and the
same.) And since it is not. the same, as colour and the visible
are not the same, it is the complete reality of the potential, and
as potential, that is movement. That it is this, and that
movement takes place when the complete reality itself exists,
and neither earlier nor later, is evident. For each thing is capable
of being sometimes actual, sometimes not, e.g. the buildable
qua buildable; and the actuality of the buildable qua buildable is
building. For the actuality is either this the act of building or
the house. But when the house exists, it is no longer buildable;
the buildable is what is being built. The actuality, then, must be
the act of building, and this is a movement. And the same
account applies to all other movements.
That what we have said is right is evident from what all others
say about movement, and from the fact that it is not easy to
define it otherwise. For firstly one cannot put it in any class.
This is evident from what people say. Some call it otherness and
inequality and the unreal; none of these, however, is necessarily
moved, and further, change is not either to these or from these
any more than from their opposites. The reason why people put
movement in these classes is that it is thought to be something
indefinite, and the principles in one of the two columns of
contraries are indefinite because they are privative, for none of
them is either a this or a such or in any of the other
2452
10
The infinite is either that which is incapable of being traversed
because it is not its nature to be traversed (this corresponds to
the sense in which the voice is invisible), or that which admits
only of incomplete traverse or scarcely admits of traverse, or
2453
2456
11
Of things which change, some change in an accidental sense,
like that in which the musical may be said to walk, and others
are said, without qualification, to change, because something in
them changes, i.e. the things that change in parts; the body
becomes healthy, because the eye does. But there is something
which is by its own nature moved directly, and this is the
essentially movable. The same distinction is found in the case of
the mover; for it causes movement either in an accidental sense
or in respect of a part of itself or essentially. There is something
that directly causes movement; and there is something that is
moved, also the time in which it is moved, and that from which
and that into which it is moved. But the forms and the
affections and the place, which are the terminals of the
movement of moving things, are unmovable, e.g. knowledge or
heat; it is not heat that is a movement, but heating. Change
which is not accidental is found not in all things, but between
contraries,
and
their
intermediates,
and
between
contradictories. We may convince ourselves of this by induction.
That which changes changes either from positive into positive,
or from negative into negative, or from positive into negative, or
from negative into positive. (By positive I mean that which is
expressed by an affirmative term.) Therefore there must be
three changes; that from negative into negative is not change,
because (since the terms are neither contraries nor
contradictories) there is no opposition. The change from the
negative into the positive which is its contradictory is
generation absolute change absolute generation, and partial
change partial generation; and the change from positive to
negative is destruction absolute change absolute destruction,
and partial change partial destruction. If, then, that which is
not has several senses, and movement can attach neither to
that which implies putting together or separating, nor to that
2457
12
If the categories are classified as substance, quality, place, acting
or being acted on, relation, quantity, there must be three kinds
of movement of quality, of quantity, of place. There is no
movement in respect of substance (because there is nothing
contrary to substance), nor of relation (for it is possible that if
one of two things in relation changes, the relative term which
was true of the other thing ceases to be true, though this other
2458
existence. And this was once coming to be, so that at that time
it was not yet coming to be something else. Now since of an
infinite number of terms there is not a first, the first in this
series will not exist, and therefore no following term exist.
Nothing, then, can either come term wi to be or move or
change. Further, that which is capable of a movement is also
capable of the contrary movement and rest, and that which
comes to be also ceases to be. Therefore that which is coming to
be is ceasing to be when it has come to be coming to be; for it
cannot cease to be as soon as it is coming to be coming to be,
nor after it has come to be; for that which is ceasing to be must
be. Further, there must be a matter underlying that which
comes to be and changes. What will this be, then, what is it
that becomes movement or becoming, as body or soul is that
which suffers alteration? And; again, what is it that they move
into? For it must be the movement or becoming of something
from something into something. How, then, can this condition
be fulfilled? There can be no learning of learning, and therefore
no becoming of becoming. Since there is not movement either
of substance or of relation or of activity and passivity, it remains
that movement is in respect of quality and quantity and place;
for each of these admits of contrariety. By quality I mean not
that which is in the substance (for even the differentia is a
quality), but the passive quality, in virtue of which a thing is
said to be acted on or to be incapable of being acted on. The
immobile is either that which is wholly incapable of being
moved, or that which is moved with difficulty in a long time or
begins slowly, or that which is of a nature to be moved and can
be moved but is not moved when and where and as it would
naturally be moved. This alone among immobiles I describe as
being at rest; for rest is contrary to movement, so that it must
be a privation in that which is receptive of movement.
Things which are in one proximate place are together in place,
and things which are in different places are apart: things whose
2460
2461
Book
1
The subject of our inquiry is substance; for the principles and
the causes we are seeking are those of substances. For if the
universe is of the nature of a whole, substance is its first part;
and if it coheres merely by virtue of serial succession, on this
view also substance is first, and is succeeded by quality, and
then by quantity. At the same time these latter are not even
being in the full sense, but are qualities and movements of it,
or else even the not-white and the not-straight would be being;
at least we say even these are, e.g. there is a not-white. Further,
none of the categories other than substance can exist apart.
And the early philosophers also in practice testify to the
primacy of substance; for it was of substance that they sought
the principles and elements and causes. The thinkers of the
present day tend to rank universals as substances (for genera
are universals, and these they tend to describe as principles and
substances, owing to the abstract nature of their inquiry); but
the thinkers of old ranked particular things as substances, e.g.
fire and earth, not what is common to both, body.
There are three kinds of substance one that is sensible (of
which one subdivision is eternal and another is perishable; the
latter is recognized by all men, and includes e.g. plants and
animals), of which we must grasp the elements, whether one or
many; and another that is immovable, and this certain thinkers
assert to be capable of existing apart, some dividing it into two,
others identifying the Forms and the objects of mathematics,
and others positing, of these two, only the objects of
mathematics. The former two kinds of substance are the subject
2462
2
Sensible substance is changeable. Now if change proceeds from
opposites or from intermediates, and not from all opposites (for
the voice is not-white, but it does not therefore change to
white), but from the contrary, there must be something
underlying which changes into the contrary state; for the
contraries do not change. Further, something persists, but the
contrary does not persist; there is, then, some third thing
besides the contraries, viz. the matter. Now since changes are of
four kinds either in respect of the what or of the quality or of
the quantity or of the place, and change in respect of thisness
is simple generation and destruction, and change in quantity is
increase and diminution, and change in respect of an affection
is alteration, and change of place is motion, changes will be
from given states into those contrary to them in these several
respects. The matter, then, which changes must be capable of
both states. And since that which is has two senses, we must
say that everything changes from that which is potentially to
that which is actually, e.g. from potentially white to actually
white, and similarly in the case of increase and diminution.
Therefore not only can a thing come to be, incidentally, out of
that which is not, but also all things come to be out of that
which is, but is potentially, and is not actually. And this is the
One of Anaxagoras; for instead of all things were together
and the Mixture of Empedocles and Anaximander and the
account given by Democritus it is better to say all things were
together potentially but not actually. Therefore these thinkers
2463
seem to have had some notion of matter. Now all things that
change have matter, but different matter; and of eternal things
those which are not generable but are movable in space have
matter not matter for generation, however, but for motion
from one place to another.
One might raise the question from what sort of non-being
generation proceeds; for non-being has three senses. If, then,
one form of non-being exists potentially, still it is not by virtue
of a potentiality for any and every thing, but different things
come from different things; nor is it satisfactory to say that all
things were together; for they differ in their matter, since
otherwise why did an infinity of things come to be, and not one
thing? For reason is one, so that if matter also were one, that
must have come to be in actuality which the matter was in
potency. The causes and the principles, then, are three, two
being the pair of contraries of which one is definition and form
and the other is privation, and the third being the matter.
3
Note, next, that neither the matter nor the form comes to be
and I mean the last matter and form. For everything that
changes is something and is changed by something and into
something. That by which it is changed is the immediate mover;
that which is changed, the matter; that into which it is changed,
the form. The process, then, will go on to infinity, if not only the
bronze comes to be round but also the round or the bronze
comes to be; therefore there must be a stop.
Note, next, that each substance comes into being out of
something that shares its name. (Natural objects and other
things both rank as substances.) For things come into being
2464
4
The causes and the principles of different things are in a sense
different, but in a sense, if one speaks universally and
analogically, they are the same for all. For one might raise the
question whether the principles and elements are different or
the same for substances and for relative terms, and similarly in
the case of each of the categories. But it would be paradoxical if
they were the same for all. For then from the same elements
will proceed relative terms and substances. What then will this
common element be? For (1) (a) there is nothing common to and
distinct from substance and the other categories, viz. those
which are predicated; but an element is prior to the things of
which it is an element. But again (b) substance is not an
element in relative terms, nor is any of these an element in
substance. Further, (2) how can all things have the same
elements? For none of the elements can be the same as that
which is composed of elements, e.g. b or a cannot be the same
as ba. (None, therefore, of the intelligibles, e.g. being or unity, is
an element; for these are predicable of each of the compounds
as well.) None of the elements, then, will be either a substance
or a relative term; but it must be one or other. All things, then,
have not the same elements.
Or, as we are wont to put it, in a sense they have and in a sense
they have not; e.g. perhaps the elements of perceptible bodies
are, as form, the hot, and in another sense the cold, which is the
privation; and, as matter, that which directly and of itself
potentially has these attributes; and substances comprise both
these and the things composed of these, of which these are the
principles, or any unity which is produced out of the hot and
the cold, e.g. flesh or bone; for the product must be different
2466
from the elements. These things then have the same elements
and principles (though specifically different things have
specifically different elements); but all things have not the same
elements in this sense, but only analogically; i.e. one might say
that there are three principles the form, the privation, and the
matter. But each of these is different for each class; e.g. in
colour they are white, black, and surface, and in day and night
they are light, darkness, and air.
Since not only the elements present in a thing are causes, but
also something external, i.e. the moving cause, clearly while
principle and element are different both are causes, and
principle is divided into these two kinds; and that which acts
as producing movement or rest is a principle and a substance.
Therefore analogically there are three elements, and four
causes and principles; but the elements are different in
different things, and the proximate moving cause is different
for different things. Health, disease, body; the moving cause is
the medical art. Form, disorder of a particular kind, bricks; the
moving cause is the building art. And since the moving cause in
the case of natural things is for man, for instance, man, and in
the products of thought the form or its contrary, there will be in
a sense three causes, while in a sense there are four. For the
medical art is in some sense health, and the building art is the
form of the house, and man begets man; further, besides these
there is that which as first of all things moves all things.
5
Some things can exist apart and some cannot, and it is the
former that are substances. And therefore all things have the
same causes, because, without substances, modifications and
2467
2468
6
Since there were three kinds of substance, two of them physical
and one unmovable, regarding the latter we must assert that it
is necessary that there should be an eternal unmovable
2469
2470
together, the same impossible result ensues. For how will there
be movement, if there is no actually existing cause? Wood will
surely not move itself the carpenters art must act on it; nor
will the menstrual blood nor the earth set themselves in
motion, but the seeds must act on the earth and the semen on
the menstrual blood.
This is why some suppose eternal actuality e.g. Leucippus and
Plato; for they say there is always movement. But why and what
this movement is they do say, nor, if the world moves in this
way or that, do they tell us the cause of its doing so. Now
nothing is moved at random, but there must always be
something present to move it; e.g. as a matter of fact a thing
moves in one way by nature, and in another by force or through
the influence of reason or something else. (Further, what sort of
movement is primary? This makes a vast difference.) But again
for Plato, at least, it is not permissible to name here that which
he sometimes supposes to be the source of movement that
which moves itself; for the soul is later, and coeval with the
heavens, according to his account. To suppose potency prior to
actuality, then, is in a sense right, and in a sense not; and we
have specified these senses. That actuality is prior is testified by
Anaxagoras (for his reason is actuality) and by Empedocles in
his doctrine of love and strife, and by those who say that there
is always movement, e.g. Leucippus. Therefore chaos or night
did not exist for an infinite time, but the same things have
always existed (either passing through a cycle of changes or
obeying some other law), since actuality is prior to potency. If,
then, there is a constant cycle, something must always remain,
acting in the same way. And if there is to be generation and
destruction, there must be something else which is always
acting in different ways. This must, then, act in one way in
virtue of itself, and in another in virtue of something else
either of a third agent, therefore, or of the first. Now it must be
in virtue of the first. For otherwise this again causes the motion
2471
7
Since (1) this is a possible account of the matter, and (2) if it
were not true, the world would have proceeded out of night and
all things together and out of non-being, these difficulties may
be taken as solved. There is, then, something which is always
moved with an unceasing motion, which is motion in a circle;
and this is plain not in theory only but in fact. Therefore the
first heaven must be eternal. There is therefore also something
which moves it. And since that which moves and is moved is
intermediate, there is something which moves without being
moved, being eternal, substance, and actuality. And the object of
desire and the object of thought move in this way; they move
without being moved. The primary objects of desire and of
thought are the same. For the apparent good is the object of
appetite, and the real good is the primary object of rational
wish. But desire is consequent on opinion rather than opinion
on desire; for the thinking is the starting-point. And thought is
moved by the object of thought, and one of the two columns of
opposites is in itself the object of thought; and in this,
substance is first, and in substance, that which is simple and
exists actually. (The one and the simple are not the same; for
one means a measure, but simple means that the thing itself
has a certain nature.) But the beautiful, also, and that which is
2472
in itself desirable are in the same column; and the first in any
class is always best, or analogous to the best.
That a final cause may exist among unchangeable entities is
shown by the distinction of its meanings. For the final cause is
(a) some being for whose good an action is done, and (b)
something at which the action aims; and of these the latter
exists among unchangeable entities though the former does
not. The final cause, then, produces motion as being loved, but
all other things move by being moved. Now if something is
moved it is capable of being otherwise than as it is. Therefore if
its actuality is the primary form of spatial motion, then in so far
as it is subject to change, in this respect it is capable of being
otherwise, in place, even if not in substance. But since there is
something which moves while itself unmoved, existing actually,
this can in no way be otherwise than as it is. For motion in
space is the first of the kinds of change, and motion in a circle
the first kind of spatial motion; and this the first mover
produces. The first mover, then, exists of necessity; and in so far
as it exists by necessity, its mode of being is good, and it is in
this sense a first principle. For the necessary has all these
senses that which is necessary perforce because it is contrary
to the natural impulse, that without which the good is
impossible, and that which cannot be otherwise but can exist
only in a single way.
On such a principle, then, depend the heavens and the world of
nature. And it is a life such as the best which we enjoy, and
enjoy for but a short time (for it is ever in this state, which we
cannot be), since its actuality is also pleasure. (And for this
reason are waking, perception, and thinking most pleasant, and
hopes and memories are so on account of these.) And thinking
in itself deals with that which is best in itself, and that which is
thinking in the fullest sense with that which is best in the
fullest sense. And thought thinks on itself because it shares the
2473
2474
8
It is clear, then, why these things are as they are. But we must
not ignore the question whether we have to suppose one such
substance or more than one, and if the latter, how many; we
must also mention, regarding the opinions expressed by others,
that they have said nothing about the number of the substances
that can even be clearly stated. For the theory of Ideas has no
special discussion of the subject; for those who speak of Ideas
say the Ideas are numbers, and they speak of numbers now as
unlimited, now as limited by the number 10; but as for the
reason why there should be just so many numbers, nothing is
said with any demonstrative exactness. We however must
discuss the subject, starting from the presuppositions and
distinctions we have mentioned. The first principle or primary
being is not movable either in itself or accidentally, but
produces the primary eternal and single movement. But since
that which is moved must be moved by something, and the first
mover must be in itself unmovable, and eternal movement
must be produced by something eternal and a single movement
by a single thing, and since we see that besides the simple
spatial movement of the universe, which we say the first and
unmovable substance produces, there are other spatial
movements those of the planets which are eternal (for a
body which moves in a circle is eternal and unresting; we have
proved these points in the physical treatises), each of these
movements also must be caused by a substance both
unmovable in itself and eternal. For the nature of the stars is
2475
above (for the sphere of the fixed stars is that which moves all
the other spheres, and that which is placed beneath this and
has its movement in the circle which bisects the zodiac is
common to all), but the poles of the third sphere of each planet
are in the circle which bisects the zodiac, and the motion of the
fourth sphere is in the circle which is inclined at an angle to the
equator of the third sphere; and the poles of the third sphere
are different for each of the other planets, but those of Venus
and Mercury are the same.
Callippus made the position of the spheres the same as
Eudoxus did, but while he assigned the same number as
Eudoxus did to Jupiter and to Saturn, he thought two more
spheres should be added to the sun and two to the moon, if one
is to explain the observed facts; and one more to each of the
other planets.
But it is necessary, if all the spheres combined are to explain the
observed facts, that for each of the planets there should be
other spheres (one fewer than those hitherto assigned) which
counteract those already mentioned and bring back to the same
position the outermost sphere of the star which in each case is
situated below the star in question; for only thus can all the
forces at work produce the observed motion of the planets.
Since, then, the spheres involved in the movement of the
planets themselves are eight for Saturn and Jupiter and
twenty-five for the others, and of these only those involved in
the movement of the lowest-situated planet need not be
counteracted the spheres which counteract those of the
outermost two planets will be six in number, and the spheres
which counteract those of the next four planets will be sixteen;
therefore the number of all the spheres both those which
move the planets and those which counteract these will be
fifty-five. And if one were not to add to the moon and to the sun
2477
2478
9
The nature of the divine thought involves certain problems; for
while thought is held to be the most divine of things observed
by us, the question how it must be situated in order to have that
character involves difficulties. For if it thinks of nothing, what is
there here of dignity? It is just like one who sleeps. And if it
thinks, but this depends on something else, then (since that
which is its substance is not the act of thinking, but a potency)
it cannot be the best substance; for it is through thinking that
its value belongs to it. Further, whether its substance is the
faculty of thought or the act of thinking, what does it think of?
Either of itself or of something else; and if of something else,
2479
2480
10
We must consider also in which of two ways the nature of the
universe contains the good, and the highest good, whether as
something separate and by itself, or as the order of the parts.
Probably in both ways, as an army does; for its good is found
both in its order and in its leader, and more in the latter; for he
does not depend on the order but it depends on him. And all
things are ordered together somehow, but not all alike, both
fishes and fowls and plants; and the world is not such that one
thing has nothing to do with another, but they are connected.
For all are ordered together to one end, but it is as in a house,
where the freemen are least at liberty to act at random, but all
things or most things are already ordained for them, while the
slaves and the animals do little for the common good, and for
the most part live at random; for this is the sort of principle that
constitutes the nature of each. I mean, for instance, that all
must at least come to be dissolved into their elements, and
there are other functions similarly in which all share for the
good of the whole.
We must not fail to observe how many impossible or
paradoxical results confront those who hold different views
from our own, and what are the views of the subtler thinkers,
2481
and which views are attended by fewest difficulties. All make all
things out of contraries. But neither all things nor out of
contraries is right; nor do these thinkers tell us how all the
things in which the contraries are present can be made out of
the contraries; for contraries are not affected by one another.
Now for us this difficulty is solved naturally by the fact that
there is a third element. These thinkers however make one of
the two contraries matter; this is done for instance by those
who make the unequal matter for the equal, or the many
matter for the one. But this also is refuted in the same way; for
the one matter which underlies any pair of contraries is
contrary to nothing. Further, all things, except the one, will, on
the view we are criticizing, partake of evil; for the bad itself is
one of the two elements. But the other school does not treat the
good and the bad even as principles; yet in all things the good is
in the highest degree a principle. The school we first mentioned
is right in saying that it is a principle, but how the good is a
principle they do not say whether as end or as mover or as
form.
Empedocles also has a paradoxical view; for he identifies the
good with love, but this is a principle both as mover (for it brings
things together) and as matter (for it is part of the mixture).
Now even if it happens that the same thing is a principle both
as matter and as mover, still the being, at least, of the two is not
the same. In which respect then is love a principle? It is
paradoxical also that strife should be imperishable; the nature
of his evil is just strife.
Anaxagoras makes the good a motive principle; for his reason
moves things. But it moves them for an end, which must be
something other than it, except according to our way of stating
the case; for, on our view, the medical art is in a sense health. It
is paradoxical also not to suppose a contrary to the good, i.e. to
reason. But all who speak of the contraries make no use of the
2482
2483
or the soul and the body, or in general the form and the thing,
are one of this no one tells us anything; nor can any one tell,
unless he says, as we do, that the mover makes them one. And
those who say mathematical number is first and go on to
generate one kind of substance after another and give different
principles for each, make the substance of the universe a mere
series of episodes (for one substance has no influence on
another by its existence or nonexistence), and they give us
many governing principles; but the world refuses to be governed
badly.
The rule of many is not good; one ruler let there be.
Book
1
We have stated what is the substance of sensible things, dealing
in the treatise on physics with matter, and later with the
substance which has actual existence. Now since our inquiry is
whether there is or is not besides the sensible substances any
which is immovable and eternal, and, if there is, what it is, we
must first consider what is said by others, so that, if there is
anything which they say wrongly, we may not be liable to the
same objections, while, if there is any opinion common to them
and us, we shall have no private grievance against ourselves on
that account; for one must be content to state some points
better than ones predecessors, and others no worse.
2484
Two opinions are held on this subject; it is said that the objects
of mathematics i.e. numbers and lines and the like are
substances, and again that the Ideas are substances. And (1)
since some recognize these as two different classes the Ideas
and the mathematical numbers, and (2) some recognize both as
having one nature, while (3) some others say that the
mathematical substances are the only substances, we must
consider first the objects of mathematics, not qualifying them
by any other characteristic not asking, for instance, whether
they are in fact Ideas or not, or whether they are the principles
and substances of existing things or not, but only whether as
objects of mathematics they exist or not, and if they exist, how
they exist. Then after this we must separately consider the
Ideas themselves in a general way, and only as far as the
accepted mode of treatment demands; for most of the points
have been repeatedly made even by the discussions outside our
school, and, further, the greater part of our account must finish
by throwing light on that inquiry, viz. when we examine
whether the substances and the principles of existing things are
numbers and Ideas; for after the discussion of the Ideas this
remans as a third inquiry.
If the objects of mathematics exist, they must exist either in
sensible objects, as some say, or separate from sensible objects
(and this also is said by some); or if they exist in neither of these
ways, either they do not exist, or they exist only in some special
sense. So that the subject of our discussion will be not whether
they exist but how they exist.
2485
2
That it is impossible for mathematical objects to exist in
sensible things, and at the same time that the doctrine in
question is an artificial one, has been said already in our
discussion of difficulties we have pointed out that it is
impossible for two solids to be in the same place, and also that
according to the same argument the other powers and
characteristics also should exist in sensible things and none of
them separately. This we have said already. But, further, it is
obvious that on this theory it is impossible for any body
whatever to be divided; for it would have to be divided at a
plane, and the plane at a line, and the line at a point, so that if
the point cannot be divided, neither can the line, and if the line
cannot, neither can the plane nor the solid. What difference,
then, does it make whether sensible things are such indivisible
entities, or, without being so themselves, have indivisible
entities in them? The result will be the same; if the sensible
entities are divided the others will be divided too, or else not
even the sensible entities can be divided.
But, again, it is not possible that such entities should exist
separately. For if besides the sensible solids there are to be other
solids which are separate from them and prior to the sensible
solids, it is plain that besides the planes also there must be
other and separate planes and points and lines; for consistency
requires this. But if these exist, again besides the planes and
lines and points of the mathematical solid there must be others
which are separate. (For incomposites are prior to compounds;
and if there are, prior to the sensible bodies, bodies which are
not sensible, by the same argument the planes which exist by
themselves must be prior to those which are in the motionless
solids. Therefore these will be planes and lines other than those
that exist along with the mathematical solids to which these
thinkers assign separate existence; for the latter exist along
2486
with the mathematical solids, while the others are prior to the
mathematical solids.) Again, therefore, there will be, belonging
to these planes, lines, and prior to them there will have to be, by
the same argument, other lines and points; and prior to these
points in the prior lines there will have to be other points,
though there will be no others prior to these. Now (1) the
accumulation becomes absurd; for we find ourselves with one
set of solids apart from the sensible solids; three sets of planes
apart from the sensible planes those which exist apart from
the sensible planes, and those in the mathematical solids, and
those which exist apart from those in the mathematical solids;
four sets of lines, and five sets of points. With which of these,
then, will the mathematical sciences deal? Certainly not with
the planes and lines and points in the motionless solid; for
science always deals with what is prior. And (the same account
will apply also to numbers; for there will be a different set of
units apart from each set of points, and also apart from each set
of realities, from the objects of sense and again from those of
thought; so that there will be various classes of mathematical
numbers.
Again, how is it possible to solve the questions which we have
already enumerated in our discussion of difficulties? For the
objects of astronomy will exist apart from sensible things just
as the objects of geometry will; but how is it possible that a
heaven and its parts or anything else which has movement
should exist apart? Similarly also the objects of optics and of
harmonics will exist apart; for there will be both voice and sight
besides the sensible or individual voices and sights. Therefore it
is plain that the other senses as well, and the other objects of
sense, will exist apart; for why should one set of them do so and
another not? And if this is so, there will also be animals existing
apart, since there will be senses.
2487
2488
as a form or shape, as the soul perhaps is, nor as matter, like the
solid; for we have no experience of anything that can be put
together out of lines or planes or points, while if these had been
a sort of material substance, we should have observed things
which could be put together out of them.
Grant, then, that they are prior in definition. Still not all things
that are prior in definition are also prior in substantiality. For
those things are prior in substantiality which when separated
from other things surpass them in the power of independent
existence, but things are prior in definition to those whose
definitions are compounded out of their definitions; and these
two properties are not coextensive. For if attributes do not exist
apart from the substances (e.g. a mobile or a pale), pale is prior
to the pale man in definition, but not in substantiality. For it
cannot exist separately, but is always along with the concrete
thing; and by the concrete thing I mean the pale man. Therefore
it is plain that neither is the result of abstraction prior nor that
which is produced by adding determinants posterior; for it is by
adding a determinant to pale that we speak of the pale man.
It has, then, been sufficiently pointed out that the objects of
mathematics are not substances in a higher degree than bodies
are, and that they are not prior to sensibles in being, but only in
definition, and that they cannot exist somewhere apart. But
since it was not possible for them to exist in sensibles either, it
is plain that they either do not exist at all or exist in a special
sense and therefore do not exist without qualification. For
exist has many senses.
2489
3
For just as the universal propositions of mathematics deal not
with objects which exist separately, apart from extended
magnitudes and from numbers, but with magnitudes and
numbers, not however qua such as to have magnitude or to be
divisible, clearly it is possible that there should also be both
propositions and demonstrations about sensible magnitudes,
not however qua sensible but qua possessed of certain definite
qualities. For as there are many propositions about things
merely considered as in motion, apart from what each such
thing is and from their accidents, and as it is not therefore
necessary that there should be either a mobile separate from
sensibles, or a distinct mobile entity in the sensibles, so too in
the case of mobiles there will be propositions and sciences,
which treat them however not qua mobile but only qua bodies,
or again only qua planes, or only qua lines, or qua divisibles, or
qua indivisibles having position, or only qua indivisibles. Thus
since it is true to say without qualification that not only things
which are separable but also things which are inseparable exist
(for instance, that mobiles exist), it is true also to say without
qualification that the objects of mathematics exist, and with
the character ascribed to them by mathematicians. And as it is
true to say of the other sciences too, without qualification, that
they deal with such and such a subject not with what is
accidental to it (e.g. not with the pale, if the healthy thing is
pale, and the science has the healthy as its subject), but with
that which is the subject of each science with the healthy if it
treats its object qua healthy, with man if qua man: so too is it
with geometry; if its subjects happen to be sensible, though it
does not treat them qua sensible, the mathematical sciences
will not for that reason be sciences of sensibles nor, on the
other hand, of other things separate from sensibles. Many
properties attach to things in virtue of their own nature as
possessed of each such character; e.g. there are attributes
2490
2491
exist; for being has two forms it exists not only in complete
reality but also materially.
Now since the good and the beautiful are different (for the
former always implies conduct as its subject, while the
beautiful is found also in motionless things), those who assert
that the mathematical sciences say nothing of the beautiful or
the good are in error. For these sciences say and prove a great
deal about them; if they do not expressly mention them, but
prove attributes which are their results or their definitions, it is
not true to say that they tell us nothing about them. The chief
forms of beauty are order and symmetry and definiteness,
which the mathematical sciences demonstrate in a special
degree. And since these (e.g. order and definiteness) are
obviously causes of many things, evidently these sciences must
treat this sort of causative principle also (i.e. the beautiful) as in
some sense a cause. But we shall speak more plainly elsewhere
about these matters.
4
So much then for the objects of mathematics; we have said that
they exist and in what sense they exist, and in what sense they
are prior and in what sense not prior. Now, regarding the Ideas,
we must first examine the ideal theory itself, not connecting it
in any way with the nature of numbers, but treating it in the
form in which it was originally understood by those who first
maintained the existence of the Ideas. The supporters of the
ideal theory were led to it because on the question about the
truth of things they accepted the Heraclitean sayings which
describe all sensible things as ever passing away, so that if
knowledge or thought is to have an object, there must be some
2492
2493
2494
But the same names indicate substance in this and in the ideal
world (or what will be the meaning of saying that there is
something apart from the particulars the one over many?).
And if the Ideas and the things that share in them have the
same form, there will be something common: for why should 2
be one and the same in the perishable 2s, or in the 2s which
are many but eternal, and not the same in the 2 itself as in the
individual 2? But if they have not the same form, they will have
only the name in common, and it is as if one were to call both
Callias and a piece of wood a man, without observing any
community between them.
But if we are to suppose that in other respects the common
definitions apply to the Forms, e.g. that plane figure and the
other parts of the definition apply to the circle itself, but what
really is has to be added, we must inquire whether this is not
absolutely meaningless. For to what is this to be added? To
centre or to plane or to all the parts of the definition? For all
the elements in the essence are Ideas, e.g. animal and twofooted. Further, there must be some Ideal answering to plane
above, some nature which will be present in all the Forms as
their genus.
5
Above all one might discuss the question what in the world the
Forms contribute to sensible things, either to those that are
eternal or to those that come into being and cease to be; for
they cause neither movement nor any change in them. But
again they help in no wise either towards the knowledge of
other things (for they are not even the substance of these, else
they would have been in them), or towards their being, if they
2495
2496
6
Since we have discussed these points, it is well to consider
again the results regarding numbers which confront those who
say that numbers are separable substances and first causes of
things. If number is an entity and its substance is nothing other
than just number, as some say, it follows that either (1) there is
a first in it and a second, each being different in species, and
either (a) this is true of the units without exception, and any
unit is inassociable with any unit, or (b) they are all without
exception successive, and any of them are associable with any,
as they say is the case with mathematical number; for in
mathematical number no one unit is in any way different from
another. Or (c) some units must be associable and some not; e.g.
suppose that 2 is first after 1, and then comes 3 and then the
rest of the number series, and the units in each number are
associable, e.g. those in the first 2 are associable with one
another, and those in the first 3 with one another, and so with
the other numbers; but the units in the 2-itself are inassociable
with those in the 3-itself; and similarly in the case of the other
successive numbers. And so while mathematical number is
counted thus after 1, 2 (which consists of another 1 besides
the former 1), and 3 which consists of another 1 besides these
two), and the other numbers similarly, ideal number is counted
thus after 1, a distinct 2 which does not include the first 1, and
a 3 which does not include the 2 and the rest of the number
series similarly. Or (2) one kind of number must be like the first
2497
that was named, one like that which the mathematicians speak
of, and that which we have named last must be a third kind.
Again, these kinds of numbers must either be separable from
things, or not separable but in objects of perception (not
however in the way which we first considered, in the sense that
objects of perception consists of numbers which are present in
them) either one kind and not another, or all of them.
These are of necessity the only ways in which the numbers can
exist. And of those who say that the 1 is the beginning and
substance and element of all things, and that number is formed
from the 1 and something else, almost every one has described
number in one of these ways; only no one has said all the units
are inassociable. And this has happened reasonably enough; for
there can be no way besides those mentioned. Some say both
kinds of number exist, that which has a before and after being
identical with the Ideas, and mathematical number being
different from the Ideas and from sensible things, and both
being separable from sensible things; and others say
mathematical number alone exists, as the first of realities,
separate from sensible things. And the Pythagoreans, also,
believe in one kind of number the mathematical; only they say
it is not separate but sensible substances are formed out of it.
For they construct the whole universe out of numbers only not
numbers consisting of abstract units; they suppose the units to
have spatial magnitude. But how the first 1 was constructed so
as to have magnitude, they seem unable to say.
Another thinker says the first kind of number, that of the Forms,
alone exists, and some say mathematical number is identical
with this.
The case of lines, planes, and solids is similar. For some think
that those which are the objects of mathematics are different
from those which come after the Ideas; and of those who
2498
7
First, then, let us inquire if the units are associable or
inassociable, and if inassociable, in which of the two ways we
distinguished. For it is possible that any unity is inassociable
with any, and it is possible that those in the itself are
inassociable with those in the itself, and, generally, that those
in each ideal number are inassociable with those in other ideal
numbers. Now (1) all units are associable and without
difference, we get mathematical number only one kind of
number, and the Ideas cannot be the numbers. For what sort of
number will man-himself or animal-itself or any other Form be?
There is one Idea of each thing e.g. one of man-himself and
another one of animal-itself; but the similar and
undifferentiated numbers are infinitely many, so that any
particular 3 is no more man-himself than any other 3. But if the
Ideas are not numbers, neither can they exist at all. For from
what principles will the Ideas come? It is number that comes
2499
2501
the 5s of which the 10 consists differ; but since these differ, the
units also will differ. But if they differ, will there be no other 5s
in the 10 but only these two, or will there be others? If there are
not, this is paradoxical; and if there are, what sort of 10 will
consist of them? For there is no other in the 10 but the 10 itself.
But it is actually necessary on their view that the 4 should not
consist of any chance 2s; for the indefinite as they say, received
the definite 2 and made two 2s; for its nature was to double
what it received.
Again, as to the 2 being an entity apart from its two units, and
the 3 an entity apart from its three units, how is this possible?
Either by ones sharing in the other, as pale man is different
from pale and man (for it shares in these), or when one is a
differentia of the other, as man is different from animal and
two-footed.
Again, some things are one by contact, some by intermixture,
some by position; none of which can belong to the units of
which the 2 or the 3 consists; but as two men are not a unity
apart from both, so must it be with the units. And their being
indivisible will make no difference to them; for points too are
indivisible, but yet a pair of them is nothing apart from the two.
But this consequence also we must not forget, that it follows
that there are prior and posterior 2 and similarly with the other
numbers. For let the 2s in the 4 be simultaneous; yet these are
prior to those in the 8 and as the 2 generated them, they
generated the 4s in the 8-itself. Therefore if the first 2 is an
Idea, these 2s also will be Ideas of some kind. And the same
account applies to the units; for the units in the first 2 generate
the four in 4, so that all the units come to be Ideas and an Idea
will be composed of Ideas. Clearly therefore those things also of
which these happen to be the Ideas will be composite, e.g. one
2502
2503
8
First of all it is well to determine what is the differentia of a
number and of a unit, if it has a differentia. Units must differ
either in quantity or in quality; and neither of these seems to be
possible. But number qua number differs in quantity. And if the
units also did differ in quantity, number would differ from
number, though equal in number of units. Again, are the first
units greater or smaller, and do the later ones increase or
diminish? All these are irrational suppositions. But neither can
they differ in quality. For no attribute can attach to them; for
even to numbers quality is said to belong after quantity. Again,
quality could not come to them either from the 1 or the dyad;
for the former has no quality, and the latter gives quantity; for
this entity is what makes things to be many. If the facts are
really otherwise, they should state this quite at the beginning
and determine if possible, regarding the differentia of the unit,
why it must exist, and, failing this, what differentia they mean.
2504
Evidently then, if the Ideas are numbers, the units cannot all be
associable, nor can they be inassociable in either of the two
ways. But neither is the way in which some others speak about
numbers correct. These are those who do not think there are
Ideas, either without qualification or as identified with certain
numbers, but think the objects of mathematics exist and the
numbers are the first of existing things, and the 1-itself is the
starting-point of them. It is paradoxical that there should be a 1
which is first of 1s, as they say, but not a 2 which is first of 2s,
nor a 3 of 3s; for the same reasoning applies to all. If, then, the
facts with regard to number are so, and one supposes
mathematical number alone to exist, the 1 is not the startingpoint (for this sort of 1 must differ from the other units; and if
this is so, there must also be a 2 which is first of 2s, and
similarly with the other successive numbers). But if the 1 is the
starting-point, the truth about the numbers must rather be
what Plato used to say, and there must be a first 2 and 3 and
numbers must not be associable with one another. But if on the
other hand one supposes this, many impossible results, as we
have said, follow. But either this or the other must be the case,
so that if neither is, number cannot exist separately.
It is evident, also, from this that the third version is the worst,
the view ideal and mathematical number is the same. For two
mistakes must then meet in the one opinion. (1) Mathematical
number cannot be of this sort, but the holder of this view has to
spin it out by making suppositions peculiar to himself. And (2)
he must also admit all the consequences that confront those
who speak of number in the sense of Forms.
The Pythagorean version in one way affords fewer difficulties
than those before named, but in another way has others
peculiar to itself. For not thinking of number as capable of
existing separately removes many of the impossible
consequences; but that bodies should be composed of numbers,
2505
2506
the former as one thing, and there is of the latter. But they try to
work on the assumption that the series of numbers up to 10 is a
complete series. At least they generate the derivatives e.g. the
void, proportion, the odd, and the others of this kind within
the decade. For some things, e.g. movement and rest, good and
bad, they assign to the originative principles, and the others to
the numbers. This is why they identify the odd with 1; for if the
odd implied 3 how would 5 be odd? Again, spatial magnitudes
and all such things are explained without going beyond a
definite number; e.g. the first, the indivisible, line, then the 2
&c.; these entities also extend only up to 10.
Again, if number can exist separately, one might ask which is
prior 1, or 3 or 2? Inasmuch as the number is composite, 1 is
prior, but inasmuch as the universal and the form is prior, the
number is prior; for each of the units is part of the number as
its matter, and the number acts as form. And in a sense the
right angle is prior to the acute, because it is determinate and in
virtue of its definition; but in a sense the acute is prior, because
it is a part and the right angle is divided into acute angles. As
matter, then, the acute angle and the element and the unit are
prior, but in respect of the form and of the substance as
expressed in the definition, the right angle, and the whole
consisting of the matter and the form, are prior; for the concrete
thing is nearer to the form and to what is expressed in the
definition, though in generation it is later. How then is 1 the
starting-point? Because it is not divisiable, they say; but both
the universal, and the particular or the element, are indivisible.
But they are starting-points in different ways, one in definition
and the other in time. In which way, then, is 1 the startingpoint? As has been said, the right angle is thought to be prior to
the acute, and the acute to the right, and each is one.
Accordingly they make 1 the starting-point in both ways. But
this is impossible. For the universal is one as form or substance,
while the element is one as a part or as matter. For each of the
2508
9
Since there is not contact in numbers, but succession, viz.
between the units between which there is nothing, e.g. between
those in 2 or in 3 one might ask whether these succeed the 1-
2509
2510
that was itself finite, from which and from the one comes the
finite number of units. And there is another plurality that is
plurality-itself and infinite plurality; which sort of plurality,
then, is the element which co-operates with the one? One
might inquire similarly about the point, i.e. the element out of
which they make spatial magnitudes. For surely this is not the
one and only point; at any rate, then, let them say out of what
each of the points is formed. Certainly not of some distance +
the point-itself. Nor again can there be indivisible parts of a
distance, as the elements out of which the units are said to be
made are indivisible parts of plurality; for number consists of
indivisibles, but spatial magnitudes do not.
All these objections, then, and others of the sort make it evident
that number and spatial magnitudes cannot exist apart from
things. Again, the discord about numbers between the various
versions is a sign that it is the incorrectness of the alleged facts
themselves that brings confusion into the theories. For those
who make the objects of mathematics alone exist apart from
sensible things, seeing the difficulty about the Forms and their
fictitiousness, abandoned
ideal
number
and
posited
mathematical. But those who wished to make the Forms at the
same time also numbers, but did not see, if one assumed these
principles, how mathematical number was to exist apart from
ideal, made ideal and mathematical number the same in words,
since in fact mathematical number has been destroyed; for they
state hypotheses peculiar to themselves and not those of
mathematics. And he who first supposed that the Forms exist
and that the Forms are numbers and that the objects of
mathematics exist, naturally separated the two. Therefore it
turns out that all of them are right in some respect, but on the
whole not right. And they themselves confirm this, for their
statements do not agree but conflict. The cause is that their
hypotheses and their principles are false. And it is hard to make
2512
2513
10
Let us now mention a point which presents a certain difficulty
both to those who believe in the Ideas and to those who do not,
and which was stated before, at the beginning, among the
problems. If we do not suppose substances to be separate, and
in the way in which individual things are said to be separate, we
shall destroy substance in the sense in which we understand
substance; but if we conceive substances to be separable, how
are we to conceive their elements and their principles?
If they are individual and not universal, (a) real things will be
just of the same number as the elements, and (b) the elements
will not be knowable. For (a) let the syllables in speech be
substances, and their elements elements of substances; then
there must be only one ba and one of each of the syllables,
since they are not universal and the same in form but each is
one in number and a this and not a kind possessed of a
common name (and again they suppose that the just what a
thing is is in each case one). And if the syllables are unique, so
too are the parts of which they consist; there will not, then, be
more as than one, nor more than one of any of the other
2514
2515
Book
1
Regarding this kind of substance, what we have said must be
taken as sufficient. All philosophers make the first principles
contraries: as in natural things, so also in the case of
unchangeable substances. But since there cannot be anything
prior to the first principle of all things, the principle cannot be
the principle and yet be an attribute of something else. To
suggest this is like saying that the white is a first principle, not
qua anything else but qua white, but yet that it is predicable of a
subject, i.e. that its being white presupposes its being
something else; this is absurd, for then that subject will be prior.
But all things which are generated from their contraries involve
an underlying subject; a subject, then, must be present in the
case of contraries, if anywhere. All contraries, then, are always
predicable of a subject, and none can exist apart, but just as
appearances suggest that there is nothing contrary to
2516
2518
magnitudes the many and few of number, and the great and
small of magnitude like even and odd, smooth and rough,
straight and curved. Again, (b) apart from this mistake, the great
and the small, and so on, must be relative to something; but
what is relative is least of all things a kind of entity or
substance, and is posterior to quality and quantity; and the
relative is an accident of quantity, as was said, not its matter,
since something with a distinct nature of its own must serve as
matter both to the relative in general and to its parts and kinds.
For there is nothing either great or small, many or few, or, in
general, relative to something else, which without having a
nature of its own is many or few, great or small, or relative to
something else. A sign that the relative is least of all a
substance and a real thing is the fact that it alone has no proper
generation or destruction or movement, as in respect of
quantity there is increase and diminution, in respect of quality
alteration, in respect of place locomotion, in respect of
substance simple generation and destruction. In respect of
relation there is no proper change; for, without changing, a
thing will be now greater and now less or equal, if that with
which it is compared has changed in quantity. And (c) the
matter of each thing, and therefore of substance, must be that
which is potentially of the nature in question; but the relative is
neither potentially nor actually substance. It is strange, then, or
rather impossible, to make not-substance an element in, and
prior to, substance; for all the categories are posterior to
substance. Again, (d) elements are not predicated of the things
of which they are elements, but many and few are predicated
both apart and together of number, and long and short of the
line, and both broad and narrow apply to the plane. If there is a
plurality, then, of which the one term, viz. few, is always
predicated, e.g. 2 (which cannot be many, for if it were many, 1
would be few), there must be also one which is absolutely many,
e.g. 10 is many (if there is no number which is greater than 10),
2519
2
We must inquire generally, whether eternal things can consist
of elements. If they do, they will have matter; for everything
that consists of elements is composite. Since, then, even if a
thing exists for ever, out of that of which it consists it would
necessarily also, if it had come into being, have come into being,
and since everything comes to be what it comes to be out of
that which is it potentially (for it could not have come to be out
of that which had not this capacity, nor could it consist of such
elements), and since the potential can be either actual or not,
this being so, however everlasting number or anything else that
has matter is, it must be capable of not existing, just as that
which is any number of years old is as capable of not existing as
that which is a day old; if this is capable of not existing, so is
that which has lasted for a time so long that it has no limit.
They cannot, then, be eternal, since that which is capable of not
existing is not eternal, as we had occasion to show in another
context. If that which we are now saying is true universally
that no substance is eternal unless it is actuality and if the
elements are matter that underlies substance, no eternal
substance can have elements present in it, of which it consists.
There are some who describe the element which acts with the
One as an indefinite dyad, and object to the unequal,
reasonably enough, because of the ensuing difficulties; but they
have got rid only of those objections which inevitably arise from
the treatment of the unequal, i.e. the relative, as an element;
2520
those which arise apart from this opinion must confront even
these thinkers, whether it is ideal number, or mathematical,
that they construct out of those elements.
There are many causes which led them off into these
explanations, and especially the fact that they framed the
difficulty in an obsolete form. For they thought that all things
that are would be one (viz. Being itself), if one did not join issue
with and refute the saying of Parmenides:
For never will this he proved, that things that are not are.
They thought it necessary to prove that that which is not is; for
only thus of that which is and something else could the
things that are be composed, if they are many.
But, first, if being has many senses (for it means sometimes
substance, sometimes that it is of a certain quality, sometimes
that it is of a certain quantity, and at other times the other
categories), what sort of one, then, are all the things that are, if
non-being is to be supposed not to be? Is it the substances that
are one, or the affections and similarly the other categories as
well, or all together so that the this and the such and the so
much and the other categories that indicate each some one
class of being will all be one? But it is strange, or rather
impossible, that the coming into play of a single thing should
bring it about that part of that which is is a this, part a such,
part a so much, part a here.
Secondly, of what sort of non-being and being do the things that
are consist? For nonbeing also has many senses, since being
has; and not being a man means not being a certain substance,
not being straight not being of a certain quality, not being
three cubits long not being of a certain quantity. What sort of
being and non-being, then, by their union pluralize the things
that are? This thinker means by the non-being the union of
2521
which with being pluralizes the things that are, the false and
the character of falsity. This is also why it used to be said that
we must assume something that is false, as geometers assume
the line which is not a foot long to be a foot long. But this
cannot be so. For neither do geometers assume anything false
(for the enunciation is extraneous to the inference), nor is it
non-being in this sense that the things that are are generated
from or resolved into. But since non-being taken in its various
cases has as many senses as there are categories, and besides
this the false is said not to be, and so is the potential, it is from
this that generation proceeds, man from that which is not man
but potentially man, and white from that which is not white but
potentially white, and this whether it is some one thing that is
generated or many.
The question evidently is, how being, in the sense of the
substances, is many; for the things that are generated are
numbers and lines and bodies. Now it is strange to inquire how
being in the sense of the what is many, and not how either
qualities or quantities are many. For surely the indefinite dyad
or the great and the small is not a reason why there should be
two kinds of white or many colours or flavours or shapes; for
then these also would be numbers and units. But if they had
attacked these other categories, they would have seen the cause
of the plurality in substances also; for the same thing or
something analogous is the cause. This aberration is the reason
also why in seeking the opposite of being and the one, from
which with being and the one the things that are proceed, they
posited the relative term (i.e. the unequal), which is neither the
contrary nor the contradictory of these, and is one kind of being
as what and quality also are.
They should have asked this question also, how relative terms
are many and not one. But as it is, they inquire how there are
many units besides the first 1, but do not go on to inquire how
2522
there are many unequals besides the unequal. Yet they use
them and speak of great and small, many and few (from which
proceed numbers), long and short (from which proceeds the
line), broad and narrow (from which proceeds the plane), deep
and shallow (from which proceed solids); and they speak of yet
more kinds of relative term. What is the reason, then, why there
is a plurality of these?
It is necessary, then, as we say, to presuppose for each thing
that which is it potentially; and the holder of these views
further declared what that is which is potentially a this and a
substance but is not in itself being viz. that it is the relative (as
if he had said the qualitative), which is neither potentially the
one or being, nor the negation of the one nor of being, but one
among beings. And it was much more necessary, as we said, if
he was inquiring how beings are many, not to inquire about
those in the same category how there are many substances or
many qualities but how beings as a whole are many; for some
are substances, some modifications, some relations. In the
categories other than substance there is yet another problem
involved in the existence of plurality. Since they are not
separable from substances, qualities and quantities are many
just because their substratum becomes and is many; yet there
ought to be a matter for each category; only it cannot be
separable from substances. But in the case of thises, it is
possible to explain how the this is many things, unless a thing
is to be treated as both a this and a general character. The
difficulty arising from the facts about substances is rather this,
how there are actually many substances and not one.
But further, if the this and the quantitative are not the same,
we are not told how and why the things that are are many, but
how quantities are many. For all number means a quantity, and
so does the unit, unless it means a measure or the
quantitatively indivisible. If, then, the quantitative and the
2523
what are different, we are not told whence or how the what is
many; but if any one says they are the same, he has to face
many inconsistencies.
One might fix ones attention also on the question, regarding
the numbers, what justifies the belief that they exist. To the
believer in Ideas they provide some sort of cause for existing
things, since each number is an Idea, and the Idea is to other
things somehow or other the cause of their being; for let this
supposition be granted them. But as for him who does not hold
this view because he sees the inherent objections to the Ideas
(so that it is not for this reason that he posits numbers), but
who posits mathematical number, why must we believe his
statement that such number exists, and of what use is such
number to other things? Neither does he who says it exists
maintain that it is the cause of anything (he rather says it is a
thing existing by itself), nor is it observed to be the cause of
anything; for the theorems of arithmeticians will all be found
true even of sensible things, as was said before.
3
As for those, then, who suppose the Ideas to exist and to be
numbers, by their assumption in virtue of the method of setting
out each term apart from its instances of the unity of each
general term they try at least to explain somehow why number
must exist. Since their reasons, however, are neither conclusive
nor in themselves possible, one must not, for these reasons at
least, assert the existence of number. Again, the Pythagoreans,
because they saw many attributes of numbers belonging te
sensible bodies, supposed real things to be numbers not
separable numbers, however, but numbers of which real things
2524
2525
2526
All this is absurd, and conflicts both with itself and with the
probabilities, and we seem to see in it Simonides long
rigmarole for the long rigmarole comes into play, like those of
slaves, when men have nothing sound to say. And the very
elements the great and the small seem to cry out against the
violence that is done to them; for they cannot in any way
generate numbers other than those got from 1 by doubling.
It is strange also to attribute generation to things that are
eternal, or rather this is one of the things that are impossible.
There need be no doubt whether the Pythagoreans attribute
generation to them or not; for they say plainly that when the
one had been constructed, whether out of planes or of surface
or of seed or of elements which they cannot express,
immediately the nearest part of the unlimited began to be
constrained and limited by the limit. But since they are
constructing a world and wish to speak the language of natural
science, it is fair to make some examination of their physical
theorics, but to let them off from the present inquiry; for we are
investigating the principles at work in unchangeable things, so
that it is numbers of this kind whose genesis we must study.
4
These thinkers say there is no generation of the odd number,
which evidently implies that there is generation of the even;
and some present the even as produced first from unequals
the great and the small when these are equalized. The
inequality, then, must belong to them before they are equalized.
If they had always been equalized, they would not have been
unequal before; for there is nothing before that which is always.
Therefore evidently they are not giving their account of the
2527
2528
2529
5
If, then, it is equally impossible not to put the good among the
first principles and to put it among them in this way, evidently
the principles are not being correctly described, nor are the first
substances. Nor does any one conceive the matter correctly if
he compares the principles of the universe to that of animals
and plants, on the ground that the more complete always
comes from the indefinite and incomplete which is what leads
this thinker to say that this is also true of the first principles of
reality, so that the One itself is not even an existing thing. This
is incorrect, for even in this world of animals and plants the
principles from which these come are complete; for it is a man
that produces a man, and the seed is not first.
It is out of place, also, to generate place simultaneously with the
mathematical solids (for place is peculiar to the individual
things, and hence they are separate in place; but mathematical
objects are nowhere), and to say that they must be somewhere,
but not say what kind of thing their place is.
Those who say that existing things come from elements and
that the first of existing things are the numbers, should have
first distinguished the senses in which one thing comes from
another, and then said in which sense number comes from its
first principles.
By intermixture? But (1) not everything is capable of
intermixture, and (2) that which is produced by it is different
2530
from its elements, and on this view the one will not remain
separate or a distinct entity; but they want it to be so.
By juxtaposition, like a syllable? But then (1) the elements must
have position; and (2) he who thinks of number will be able to
think of the unity and the plurality apart; number then will be
this a unit and plurality, or the one and the unequal.
Again, coming from certain things means in one sense that
these are still to be found in the product, and in another that
they are not; which sense does number come from these
elements? Only things that are generated can come from
elements which are present in them. Does number come, then,
from its elements as from seed? But nothing can be excreted
from that which is indivisible. Does it come from its contrary, its
contrary not persisting? But all things that come in this way
come also from something else which does persist. Since, then,
one thinker places the 1 as contrary to plurality, and another
places it as contrary to the unequal, treating the 1 as equal,
number must be being treated as coming from contraries. There
is, then, something else that persists, from which and from one
contrary the compound is or has come to be. Again, why in the
world do the other things that come from contraries, or that
have contraries, perish (even when all of the contrary is used to
produce them), while number does not? Nothing is said about
this. Yet whether present or not present in the compound the
contrary destroys it, e.g. strife destroys the mixture (yet it
should not; for it is not to that that is contrary).
Once more, it has not been determined at all in which way
numbers are the causes of substances and of being whether
(1) as boundaries (as points are of spatial magnitudes). This is
how Eurytus decided what was the number of what (e.g. one of
man and another of horse), viz. by imitating the figures of living
things with pebbles, as some people bring numbers into the
2531
6
One might also raise the question what the good is that things
get from numbers because their composition is expressible by a
number, either by one which is easily calculable or by an odd
number. For in fact honey-water is no more wholesome if it is
mixed in the proportion of three times three, but it would do
more good if it were in no particular ratio but well diluted than
if it were numerically expressible but strong. Again, the ratios of
mixtures are expressed by the adding of numbers, not by mere
numbers; e.g. it is three parts to two, not three times two. For
in any multiplication the genus of the things multiplied must be
2532
other letters, and no other is so, and if the cause is that there
are three parts of the mouth and one letter is in each applied to
sigma, it is for this reason that there are only three, not because
the concords are three; since as a matter of fact the concords
are more than three, but of double consonants there cannot be
more.
These people are like the old-fashioned Homeric scholars, who
see small resemblances but neglect great ones. Some say that
there are many such cases, e.g. that the middle strings are
represented by nine and eight, and that the epic verse has
seventeen syllables, which is equal in number to the two
strings, and that the scansion is, in the right half of the line nine
syllables, and in the left eight. And they say that the distance in
the letters from alpha to omega is equal to that from the lowest
note of the flute to the highest, and that the number of this
note is equal to that of the whole choir of heaven. It may be
suspected that no one could find difficulty either in stating such
analogies or in finding them in eternal things, since they can be
found even in perishable things.
But the lauded characteristics of numbers, and the contraries of
these, and generally the mathematical relations, as some
describe them, making them causes of nature, seem, when we
inspect them in this way, to vanish; for none of them is a cause
in any of the senses that have been distinguished in reference
to the first principles. In a sense, however, they make it plain
that goodness belongs to numbers, and that the odd, the
straight, the square, the potencies of certain numbers, are in the
column of the beautiful. For the seasons and a particular kind of
number go together; and the other agreements that they collect
from the theorems of mathematics all have this meaning.
Hence they are like coincidences. For they are accidents, but the
things that agree are all appropriate to one another, and one by
analogy. For in each category of being an analogous term is
2534
2535
Book I
1
Every art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and
pursuit, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the
good has rightly been declared to be that at which all things
aim. But a certain difference is found among ends; some are
activities, others are products apart from the activities that
produce them. Where there are ends apart from the actions, it is
the nature of the products to be better than the activities. Now,
as there are many actions, arts, and sciences, their ends also are
many; the end of the medical art is health, that of shipbuilding
a vessel, that of strategy victory, that of economics wealth. But
where such arts fall under a single capacity as bridle-making
and the other arts concerned with the equipment of horses fall
under the art of riding, and this and every military action under
strategy, in the same way other arts fall under yet others in all
of these the ends of the master arts are to be preferred to all the
subordinate ends; for it is for the sake of the former that the
latter are pursued. It makes no difference whether the activities
themselves are the ends of the actions, or something else apart
from the activities, as in the case of the sciences just
mentioned.
2536
2
If, then, there is some end of the things we do, which we desire
for its own sake (everything else being desired for the sake of
this), and if we do not choose everything for the sake of
something else (for at that rate the process would go on to
infinity, so that our desire would be empty and vain), clearly
this must be the good and the chief good. Will not the
knowledge of it, then, have a great influence on life? Shall we
not, like archers who have a mark to aim at, be more likely to
hit upon what is right? If so, we must try, in outline at least, to
determine what it is, and of which of the sciences or capacities
it is the object. It would seem to belong to the most
authoritative art and that which is most truly the master art.
And politics appears to be of this nature; for it is this that
ordains which of the sciences should be studied in a state, and
which each class of citizens should learn and up to what point
they should learn them; and we see even the most highly
esteemed of capacities to fall under this, e.g. strategy,
economics, rhetoric; now, since politics uses the rest of the
sciences, and since, again, it legislates as to what we are to do
and what we are to abstain from, the end of this science must
include those of the others, so that this end must be the good
for man. For even if the end is the same for a single man and for
a state, that of the state seems at all events something greater
and more complete whether to attain or to preserve; though it
is worth while to attain the end merely for one man, it is finer
and more godlike to attain it for a nation or for city-states.
These, then, are the ends at which our inquiry aims, since it is
political science, in one sense of that term.
2537
3
Our discussion will be adequate if it has as much clearness as
the subject-matter admits of, for precision is not to be sought
for alike in all discussions, any more than in all the products of
the crafts. Now fine and just actions, which political science
investigates, admit of much variety and fluctuation of opinion,
so that they may be thought to exist only by convention, and
not by nature. And goods also give rise to a similar fluctuation
because they bring harm to many people; for before now men
have been undone by reason of their wealth, and others by
reason of their courage. We must be content, then, in speaking
of such subjects and with such premisses to indicate the truth
roughly and in outline, and in speaking about things which are
only for the most part true and with premisses of the same kind
to reach conclusions that are no better. In the same spirit,
therefore, should each type of statement be received; for it is
the mark of an educated man to look for precision in each class
of things just so far as the nature of the subject admits; it is
evidently equally foolish to accept probable reasoning from a
mathematician and to demand from a rhetorician scientific
proofs.
Now each man judges well the things he knows, and of these he
is a good judge. And so the man who has been educated in a
subject is a good judge of that subject, and the man who has
received an all-round education is a good judge in general.
Hence a young man is not a proper hearer of lectures on
political science; for he is inexperienced in the actions that
occur in life, but its discussions start from these and are about
these; and, further, since he tends to follow his passions, his
study will be vain and unprofitable, because the end aimed at is
not knowledge but action. And it makes no difference whether
he is young in years or youthful in character; the defect does
not depend on time, but on his living, and pursuing each
2538
4
Let us resume our inquiry and state, in view of the fact that all
knowledge and every pursuit aims at some good, what it is that
we say political science aims at and what is the highest of all
goods achievable by action. Verbally there is very general
agreement; for both the general run of men and people of
superior refinement say that it is happiness, and identify living
well and doing well with being happy; but with regard to what
happiness is they differ, and the many do not give the same
account as the wise. For the former think it is some plain and
obvious thing, like pleasure, wealth, or honour; they differ,
however, from one another and often even the same man
identifies it with different things, with health when he is ill,
with wealth when he is poor; but, conscious of their ignorance,
they admire those who proclaim some great ideal that is above
their comprehension. Now some thought that apart from these
many goods there is another which is self-subsistent and
causes the goodness of all these as well. To examine all the
opinions that have been held were perhaps somewhat fruitless;
enough to examine those that are most prevalent or that seem
to be arguable.
2539
5
Let us, however, resume our discussion from the point at which
we digressed. To judge from the lives that men lead, most men,
and men of the most vulgar type, seem (not without some
ground) to identify the good, or happiness, with pleasure; which
is the reason why they love the life of enjoyment. For there are,
2540
6
We had perhaps better consider the universal good and discuss
thoroughly what is meant by it, although such an inquiry is
made an uphill one by the fact that the Forms have been
introduced by friends of our own. Yet it would perhaps be
thought to be better, indeed to be our duty, for the sake of
maintaining the truth even to destroy what touches us closely,
especially as we are philosophers or lovers of wisdom; for, while
both are dear, piety requires us to honour truth above our
friends.
The men who introduced this doctrine did not posit Ideas of
classes within which they recognized priority and posteriority
(which is the reason why they did not maintain the existence of
an Idea embracing all numbers); but the term good is used
both in the category of substance and in that of quality and in
that of relation, and that which is per se, i.e. substance, is prior
in nature to the relative (for the latter is like an off shoot and
accident of being); so that there could not be a common Idea set
over all these goods. Further, since good has as many senses as
being (for it is predicated both in the category of substance, as
of God and of reason, and in quality, i.e. of the virtues, and in
quantity, i.e. of that which is moderate, and in relation, i.e. of
the useful, and in time, i.e. of the right opportunity, and in place,
i.e. of the right locality and the like), clearly it cannot be
something universally present in all cases and single; for then it
could not have been predicated in all the categories but in one
only. Further, since of the things answering to one Idea there is
one science, there would have been one science of all the goods;
but as it is there are many sciences even of the things that fall
under one category, e.g. of opportunity, for opportunity in war is
2542
2544
7
Let us again return to the good we are seeking, and ask what it
can be. It seems different in different actions and arts; it is
different in medicine, in strategy, and in the other arts likewise.
What then is the good of each? Surely that for whose sake
everything else is done. In medicine this is health, in strategy
victory, in architecture a house, in any other sphere something
else, and in every action and pursuit the end; for it is for the
sake of this that all men do whatever else they do. Therefore, if
there is an end for all that we do, this will be the good
achievable by action, and if there are more than one, these will
be the goods achievable by action.
So the argument has by a different course reached the same
point; but we must try to state this even more clearly. Since
there are evidently more than one end, and we choose some of
these (e.g. wealth, flutes, and in general instruments) for the
sake of something else, clearly not all ends are final ends; but
the chief good is evidently something final. Therefore, if there is
only one final end, this will be what we are seeking, and if there
are more than one, the most final of these will be what we are
seeking. Now we call that which is in itself worthy of pursuit
more final than that which is worthy of pursuit for the sake of
something else, and that which is never desirable for the sake of
something else more final than the things that are desirable
both in themselves and for the sake of that other thing, and
therefore we call final without qualification that which is
always desirable in itself and never for the sake of something
else.
Now such a thing happiness, above all else, is held to be; for this
we choose always for self and never for the sake of something
else, but honour, pleasure, reason, and every virtue we choose
2545
2546
2547
8
We must consider it, however, in the light not only of our
conclusion and our premisses, but also of what is commonly
said about it; for with a true view all the data harmonize, but
with a false one the facts soon clash. Now goods have been
divided into three classes, and some are described as external,
2548
2549
2550
9
For this reason also the question is asked, whether happiness is
to be acquired by learning or by habituation or some other sort
of training, or comes in virtue of some divine providence or
again by chance. Now if there is any gift of the gods to men, it is
reasonable that happiness should be god-given, and most surely
god-given of all human things inasmuch as it is the best. But
this question would perhaps be more appropriate to another
inquiry; happiness seems, however, even if it is not god-sent but
comes as a result of virtue and some process of learning or
training, to be among the most godlike things; for that which is
the prize and end of virtue seems to be the best thing in the
world, and something godlike and blessed.
It will also on this view be very generally shared; for all who are
not maimed as regards their potentiality for virtue may win it
by a certain kind of study and care. But if it is better to be happy
thus than by chance, it is reasonable that the facts should be so,
since everything that depends on the action of nature is by
nature as good as it can be, and similarly everything that
depends on art or any rational cause, and especially if it
2551
10
Must no one at all, then, be called happy while he lives; must
we, as Solon says, see the end? Even if we are to lay down this
doctrine, is it also the case that a man is happy when he is
dead? Or is not this quite absurd, especially for us who say that
happiness is an activity? But if we do not call the dead man
happy, and if Solon does not mean this, but that one can then
2552
2553
2554
11
That the fortunes of descendants and of all a mans friends
should not affect his happiness at all seems a very unfriendly
doctrine, and one opposed to the opinions men hold; but since
the events that happen are numerous and admit of all sorts of
difference, and some come more near to us and others less so, it
seems a long nay, an infinite task to discuss each in detail; a
general outline will perhaps suffice. If, then, as some of a mans
own misadventures have a certain weight and influence on life
while others are, as it were, lighter, so too there are differences
among the misadventures of our friends taken as a whole, and
it makes a difference whether the various suffering befall the
2555
living or the dead (much more even than whether lawless and
terrible deeds are presupposed in a tragedy or done on the
stage), this difference also must be taken into account; or rather,
perhaps, the fact that doubt is felt whether the dead share in
any good or evil. For it seems, from these considerations, that
even if anything whether good or evil penetrates to them, it
must be something weak and negligible, either in itself or for
them, or if not, at least it must be such in degree and kind as
not to make happy those who are not happy nor to take away
their blessedness from those who are. The good or bad fortunes
of friends, then, seem to have some effects on the dead, but
effects of such a kind and degree as neither to make the happy
unhappy nor to produce any other change of the kind.
12
These questions having been definitely answered, let us
consider whether happiness is among the things that are
praised or rather among the things that are prized; for clearly it
is not to be placed among potentialities. Everything that is
praised seems to be praised because it is of a certain kind and is
related somehow to something else; for we praise the just or
brave man and in general both the good man and virtue itself
because of the actions and functions involved, and we praise
the strong man, the good runner, and so on, because he is of a
certain kind and is related in a certain way to something good
and important. This is clear also from the praises of the gods;
for it seems absurd that the gods should be referred to our
standard, but this is done because praise involves a reference, to
something else. But if if praise is for things such as we have
described, clearly what applies to the best things is not praise,
but something greater and better, as is indeed obvious; for what
2556
13
Since happiness is an activity of soul in accordance with perfect
virtue, we must consider the nature of virtue; for perhaps we
shall thus see better the nature of happiness. The true student
of politics, too, is thought to have studied virtue above all
things; for he wishes to make his fellow citizens good and
obedient to the laws. As an example of this we have the
lawgivers of the Cretans and the Spartans, and any others of the
kind that there may have been. And if this inquiry belongs to
political science, clearly the pursuit of it will be in accordance
2557
with our original plan. But clearly the virtue we must study is
human virtue; for the good we were seeking was human good
and the happiness human happiness. By human virtue we
mean not that of the body but that of the soul; and happiness
also we call an activity of soul. But if this is so, clearly the
student of politics must know somehow the facts about soul, as
the man who is to heal the eyes or the body as a whole must
know about the eyes or the body; and all the more since politics
is more prized and better than medicine; but even among
doctors the best educated spend much labour on acquiring
knowledge of the body. The student of politics, then, must study
the soul, and must study it with these objects in view, and do so
just to the extent which is sufficient for the questions we are
discussing; for further precision is perhaps something more
laborious than our purposes require.
Some things are said about it, adequately enough, even in the
discussions outside our school, and we must use these; e.g. that
one element in the soul is irrational and one has a rational
principle. Whether these are separated as the parts of the body
or of anything divisible are, or are distinct by definition but by
nature inseparable, like convex and concave in the
circumference of a circle, does not affect the present question.
Of the irrational element one division seems to be widely
distributed, and vegetative in its nature, I mean that which
causes nutrition and growth; for it is this kind of power of the
soul that one must assign to all nurslings and to embryos, and
this same power to fullgrown creatures; this is more reasonable
than to assign some different power to them. Now the
excellence of this seems to be common to all species and not
specifically human; for this part or faculty seems to function
most in sleep, while goodness and badness are least manifest in
sleep (whence comes the saying that the happy are not better
off than the wretched for half their lives; and this happens
2558
2559
Book II
1
Virtue, then, being of two kinds, intellectual and moral,
intellectual virtue in the main owes both its birth and its growth
to teaching (for which reason it requires experience and time),
while moral virtue comes about as a result of habit, whence also
its name (ethike) is one that is formed by a slight variation from
2560
the word ethos (habit). From this it is also plain that none of the
moral virtues arises in us by nature; for nothing that exists by
nature can form a habit contrary to its nature. For instance the
stone which by nature moves downwards cannot be habituated
to move upwards, not even if one tries to train it by throwing it
up ten thousand times; nor can fire be habituated to move
downwards, nor can anything else that by nature behaves in
one way be trained to behave in another. Neither by nature,
then, nor contrary to nature do the virtues arise in us; rather we
are adapted by nature to receive them, and are made perfect by
habit.
Again, of all the things that come to us by nature we first
acquire the potentiality and later exhibit the activity (this is
plain in the case of the senses; for it was not by often seeing or
often hearing that we got these senses, but on the contrary we
had them before we used them, and did not come to have them
by using them); but the virtues we get by first exercising them,
as also happens in the case of the arts as well. For the things we
have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them,
e.g. men become builders by building and lyreplayers by playing
the lyre; so too we become just by doing just acts, temperate by
doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts.
This is confirmed by what happens in states; for legislators
make the citizens good by forming habits in them, and this is
the wish of every legislator, and those who do not effect it miss
their mark, and it is in this that a good constitution differs from
a bad one.
Again, it is from the same causes and by the same means that
every virtue is both produced and destroyed, and similarly every
art; for it is from playing the lyre that both good and bad lyreplayers are produced. And the corresponding statement is true
of builders and of all the rest; men will be good or bad builders
2561
as a result of building well or badly. For if this were not so, there
would have been no need of a teacher, but all men would have
been born good or bad at their craft. This, then, is the case with
the virtues also; by doing the acts that we do in our transactions
with other men we become just or unjust, and by doing the acts
that we do in the presence of danger, and being habituated to
feel fear or confidence, we become brave or cowardly. The same
is true of appetites and feelings of anger; some men become
temperate and good-tempered, others self-indulgent and
irascible, by behaving in one way or the other in the appropriate
circumstances. Thus, in one word, states of character arise out
of like activities. This is why the activities we exhibit must be of
a certain kind; it is because the states of character correspond
to the differences between these. It makes no small difference,
then, whether we form habits of one kind or of another from
our very youth; it makes a very great difference, or rather all the
difference.
2
Since, then, the present inquiry does not aim at theoretical
knowledge like the others (for we are inquiring not in order to
know what virtue is, but in order to become good, since
otherwise our inquiry would have been of no use), we must
examine the nature of actions, namely how we ought to do
them; for these determine also the nature of the states of
character that are produced, as we have said. Now, that we must
act according to the right rule is a common principle and must
be assumed it will be discussed later, i.e. both what the right
rule is, and how it is related to the other virtues. But this must
be agreed upon beforehand, that the whole account of matters
of conduct must be given in outline and not precisely, as we
2562
2563
much exertion, and it is the strong man that will be most able to
do these things. So too is it with the virtues; by abstaining from
pleasures we become temperate, and it is when we have
become so that we are most able to abstain from them; and
similarly too in the case of courage; for by being habituated to
despise things that are terrible and to stand our ground against
them we become brave, and it is when we have become so that
we shall be most able to stand our ground against them.
3
We must take as a sign of states of character the pleasure or
pain that ensues on acts; for the man who abstains from bodily
pleasures and delights in this very fact is temperate, while the
man who is annoyed at it is self-indulgent, and he who stands
his ground against things that are terrible and delights in this or
at least is not pained is brave, while the man who is pained is a
coward. For moral excellence is concerned with pleasures and
pains; it is on account of the pleasure that we do bad things,
and on account of the pain that we abstain from noble ones.
Hence we ought to have been brought up in a particular way
from our very youth, as Plato says, so as both to delight in and
to be pained by the things that we ought; for this is the right
education.
Again, if the virtues are concerned with actions and passions,
and every passion and every action is accompanied by pleasure
and pain, for this reason also virtue will be concerned with
pleasures and pains. This is indicated also by the fact that
punishment is inflicted by these means; for it is a kind of cure,
and it is the nature of cures to be effected by contraries.
2564
2565
4
The question might be asked,; what we mean by saying that we
must become just by doing just acts, and temperate by doing
temperate acts; for if men do just and temperate acts, they are
already just and temperate, exactly as, if they do what is in
accordance with the laws of grammar and of music, they are
grammarians and musicians.
Or is this not true even of the arts? It is possible to do
something that is in accordance with the laws of grammar,
either by chance or at the suggestion of another. A man will be a
grammarian, then, only when he has both done something
grammatical and done it grammatically; and this means doing
it in accordance with the grammatical knowledge in himself.
Again, the case of the arts and that of the virtues are not
similar; for the products of the arts have their goodness in
themselves, so that it is enough that they should have a certain
character, but if the acts that are in accordance with the virtues
have themselves a certain character it does not follow that they
are done justly or temperately. The agent also must be in a
2566
5
Next we must consider what virtue is. Since things that are
found in the soul are of three kinds passions, faculties, states
of character, virtue must be one of these. By passions I mean
2567
2568
6
We must, however, not only describe virtue as a state of
character, but also say what sort of state it is. We may remark,
then, that every virtue or excellence both brings into good
condition the thing of which it is the excellence and makes the
work of that thing be done well; e.g. the excellence of the eye
makes both the eye and its work good; for it is by the excellence
of the eye that we see well. Similarly the excellence of the horse
makes a horse both good in itself and good at running and at
carrying its rider and at awaiting the attack of the enemy.
Therefore, if this is true in every case, the virtue of man also will
be the state of character which makes a man good and which
makes him do his own work well.
How this is to happen we have stated already, but it will be
made plain also by the following consideration of the specific
nature of virtue. In everything that is continuous and divisible it
is possible to take more, less, or an equal amount, and that
either in terms of the thing itself or relatively to us; and the
equal is an intermediate between excess and defect. By the
intermediate in the object I mean that which is equidistant
from each of the extremes, which is one and the same for all
men; by the intermediate relatively to us that which is neither
too much nor too little and this is not one, nor the same for
all. For instance, if ten is many and two is few, six is the
intermediate, taken in terms of the object; for it exceeds and is
exceeded by an equal amount; this is intermediate according to
arithmetical proportion. But the intermediate relatively to us is
not to be taken so; if ten pounds are too much for a particular
person to eat and two too little, it does not follow that the
trainer will order six pounds; for this also is perhaps too much
2569
for the person who is to take it, or too little too little for Milo,
too much for the beginner in athletic exercises. The same is true
of running and wrestling. Thus a master of any art avoids
excess and defect, but seeks the intermediate and chooses this
the intermediate not in the object but relatively to us.
If it is thus, then, that every art does its work well by looking
to the intermediate and judgling its works by this standard (so
that we often say of good works of art that it is not possible
either to take away or to add anything, implying that excess and
defect destroy the goodness of works of art, while the mean
preserves it; and good artists, as we say, look to this in their
work), and if, further, virtue is more exact and better than any
art, as nature also is, then virtue must have the quality of
aiming at the intermediate. I mean moral virtue; for it is this
that is concerned with passions and actions, and in these there
is excess, defect, and the intermediate. For instance, both fear
and confidence and appetite and anger and pity and in general
pleasure and pain may be felt both too much and too little, and
in both cases not well; but to feel them at the right times, with
reference to the right objects, towards the right people, with the
right motive, and in the right way, is what is both intermediate
and best, and this is characteristic of virtue. Similarly with
regard to actions also there is excess, defect, and the
intermediate. Now virtue is concerned with passions and
actions, in which excess is a form of failure, and so is defect,
while the intermediate is praised and is a form of success; and
being praised and being successful are both characteristics of
virtue. Therefore virtue is a kind of mean, since, as we have
seen, it aims at what is intermediate.
Again, it is possible to fail in many ways (for evil belongs to the
class of the unlimited, as the Pythagoreans conjectured, and
good to that of the limited), while to succeed is possible only in
one way (for which reason also one is easy and the other
2570
2571
7
We must, however, not only make this general statement, but
also apply it to the individual facts. For among statements about
conduct those which are general apply more widely, but those
which are particular are more genuine, since conduct has to do
with individual cases, and our statements must harmonize with
the facts in these cases. We may take these cases from our table.
With regard to feelings of fear and confidence courage is the
mean; of the people who exceed, he who exceeds in
fearlessness has no name (many of the states have no name),
while the man who exceeds in confidence is rash, and he who
exceeds in fear and falls short in confidence is a coward. With
regard to pleasures and pains not all of them, and not so much
with regard to the pains the mean is temperance, the excess
self-indulgence. Persons deficient with regard to the pleasures
are not often found; hence such persons also have received no
name. But let us call them insensible.
With regard to giving and taking of money the mean is liberality,
the excess and the defect prodigality and meanness. In these
actions people exceed and fall short in contrary ways; the
prodigal exceeds in spending and falls short in taking, while the
mean man exceeds in taking and falls short in spending. (At
present we are giving a mere outline or summary, and are
satisfied with this; later these states will be more exactly
determined.) With regard to money there are also other
2572
2573
the pain and pleasure that are felt at the fortunes of our
neighbours; the man who is characterized by righteous
indignation is pained at undeserved good fortune, the envious
man, going beyond him, is pained at all good fortune, and the
spiteful man falls so far short of being pained that he even
rejoices. But these states there will be an opportunity of
describing elsewhere; with regard to justice, since it has not one
simple meaning, we shall, after describing the other states,
distinguish its two kinds and say how each of them is a mean;
and similarly we shall treat also of the rational virtues.
8
There are three kinds of disposition, then, two of them vices,
involving excess and deficiency respectively, and one a virtue,
viz. the mean, and all are in a sense opposed to all; for the
extreme states are contrary both to the intermediate state and
to each other, and the intermediate to the extremes; as the
equal is greater relatively to the less, less relatively to the
greater, so the middle states are excessive relatively to the
deficiencies, deficient relatively to the excesses, both in
passions and in actions. For the brave man appears rash
relatively to the coward, and cowardly relatively to the rash
man; and similarly the temperate man appears self-indulgent
relatively to the insensible man, insensible relatively to the selfindulgent, and the liberal man prodigal relatively to the mean
man, mean relatively to the prodigal. Hence also the people at
the extremes push the intermediate man each over to the other,
and the brave man is called rash by the coward, cowardly by the
rash man, and correspondingly in the other cases.
2575
2576
9
That moral virtue is a mean, then, and in what sense it is so,
and that it is a mean between two vices, the one involving
excess, the other deficiency, and that it is such because its
character is to aim at what is intermediate in passions and in
actions, has been sufficiently stated. Hence also it is no easy
task to be good. For in everything it is no easy task to find the
middle, e.g. to find the middle of a circle is not for every one but
for him who knows; so, too, any one can get angry that is easy
or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to
the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in
the right way, that is not for every one, nor is it easy; wherefore
goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
Hence he who aims at the intermediate must first depart from
what is the more contrary to it, as Calypso advises:
Hold the ship out beyond that surf and spray.
For of the extremes one is more erroneous, one less so;
therefore, since to hit the mean is hard in the extreme, we must
as a second best, as people say, take the least of the evils; and
this will be done best in the way we describe. But we must
consider the things towards which we ourselves also are easily
carried away; for some of us tend to one thing, some to another;
and this will be recognizable from the pleasure and the pain we
feel. We must drag ourselves away to the contrary extreme; for
we shall get into the intermediate state by drawing well away
from error, as people do in straightening sticks that are bent.
Now in everything the pleasant or pleasure is most to be
guarded against; for we do not judge it impartially. We ought,
then, to feel towards pleasure as the elders of the people felt
towards Helen, and in all circumstances repeat their saying; for
2577
2578
Book III
1
Since virtue is concerned with passions and actions, and on
voluntary passions and actions praise and blame are bestowed,
on those that are involuntary pardon, and sometimes also pity,
to distinguish the voluntary and the involuntary is presumably
necessary for those who are studying the nature of virtue, and
useful also for legislators with a view to the assigning both of
honours and of punishments. Those things, then, are thoughtinvoluntary, which take place under compulsion or owing to
ignorance; and that is compulsory of which the moving
principle is outside, being a principle in which nothing is
contributed by the person who is acting or is feeling the
passion, e.g. if he were to be carried somewhere by a wind, or by
men who had him in their power.
But with regard to the things that are done from fear of greater
evils or for some noble object (e.g. if a tyrant were to order one
to do something base, having ones parents and children in his
power, and if one did the action they were to be saved, but
otherwise would be put to death), it may be debated whether
such actions are involuntary or voluntary. Something of the sort
happens also with regard to the throwing of goods overboard in
a storm; for in the abstract no one throws goods away
voluntarily, but on condition of its securing the safety of himself
and his crew any sensible man does so. Such actions, then, are
mixed, but are more like voluntary actions; for they are worthy
of choice at the time when they are done, and the end of an
action is relative to the occasion. Both the terms, then,
voluntary and involuntary, must be used with reference to the
2579
2580
2581
2
Both the voluntary and the involuntary having been delimited,
we must next discuss choice; for it is thought to be most closely
bound up with virtue and to discriminate characters better than
actions do.
2583
2584
3
Do we deliberate about everything, and is everything a possible
subject of deliberation, or is deliberation impossible about some
2585
4
That wish is for the end has already been stated; some think it
is for the good, others for the apparent good. Now those who
say that the good is the object of wish must admit in
consequence that that which the man who does not choose
aright wishes for is not an object of wish (for if it is to be so, it
must also be good; but it was, if it so happened, bad); while
those who say the apparent good is the object of wish must
admit that there is no natural object of wish, but only what
seems good to each man. Now different things appear good to
different people, and, if it so happens, even contrary things.
2588
5
The end, then, being what we wish for, the means what we
deliberate about and choose, actions concerning means must be
according to choice and voluntary. Now the exercise of the
virtues is concerned with means. Therefore virtue also is in our
own power, and so too vice. For where it is in our power to act it
is also in our power not to act, and vice versa; so that, if to act,
where this is noble, is in our power, not to act, which will be
base, will also be in our power, and if not to act, where this is
noble, is in our power, to act, which will be base, will also be in
our power. Now if it is in our power to do noble or base acts, and
likewise in our power not to do them, and this was what being
2589
2590
But perhaps a man is the kind of man not to take care. Still they
are themselves by their slack lives responsible for becoming
men of that kind, and men make themselves responsible for
being unjust or self-indulgent, in the one case by cheating and
in the other by spending their time in drinking bouts and the
like; for it is activities exercised on particular objects that make
the corresponding character. This is plain from the case of
people training for any contest or action; they practise the
activity the whole time. Now not to know that it is from the
exercise of activities on particular objects that states of
character are produced is the mark of a thoroughly senseless
person. Again, it is irrational to suppose that a man who acts
unjustly does not wish to be unjust or a man who acts selfindulgently to be self-indulgent. But if without being ignorant a
man does the things which will make him unjust, he will be
unjust voluntarily. Yet it does not follow that if he wishes he will
cease to be unjust and will be just. For neither does the man
who is ill become well on those terms. We may suppose a case
in which he is ill voluntarily, through living incontinently and
disobeying his doctors. In that case it was then open to him not
to be ill, but not now, when he has thrown away his chance, just
as when you have let a stone go it is too late to recover it; but
yet it was in your power to throw it, since the moving principle
was in you. So, too, to the unjust and to the self-indulgent man
it was open at the beginning not to become men of this kind,
and so they are unjust and selfindulgent voluntarily; but now
that they have become so it is not possible for them not to be
so.
But not only are the vices of the soul voluntary, but those of the
body also for some men, whom we accordingly blame; while no
one blames those who are ugly by nature, we blame those who
are so owing to want of exercise and care. So it is, too, with
respect to weakness and infirmity; no one would reproach a
man blind from birth or by disease or from a blow, but rather
2591
pity him, while every one would blame a man who was blind
from drunkenness or some other form of self-indulgence. Of
vices of the body, then, those in our own power are blamed,
those not in our power are not. And if this be so, in the other
cases also the vices that are blamed must be in our own power.
Now some one may say that all men desire the apparent good,
but have no control over the appearance, but the end appears to
each man in a form answering to his character. We reply that if
each man is somehow responsible for his state of mind, he will
also be himself somehow responsible for the appearance; but if
not, no one is responsible for his own evildoing, but every one
does evil acts through ignorance of the end, thinking that by
these he will get what is best, and the aiming at the end is not
self-chosen but one must be born with an eye, as it were, by
which to judge rightly and choose what is truly good, and he is
well endowed by nature who is well endowed with this. For it is
what is greatest and most noble, and what we cannot get or
learn from another, but must have just such as it was when
given us at birth, and to be well and nobly endowed with this
will be perfect and true excellence of natural endowment. If this
is true, then, how will virtue be more voluntary than vice? To
both men alike, the good and the bad, the end appears and is
fixed by nature or however it may be, and it is by referring
everything else to this that men do whatever they do.
Whether, then, it is not by nature that the end appears to each
man such as it does appear, but something also depends on
him, or the end is natural but because the good man adopts the
means voluntarily virtue is voluntary, vice also will be none the
less voluntary; for in the case of the bad man there is equally
present that which depends on himself in his actions even if
not in his end. If, then, as is asserted, the virtues are voluntary
(for we are ourselves somehow partly responsible for our states
of character, and it is by being persons of a certain kind that we
2592
6
That it is a mean with regard to feelings of fear and confidence
has already been made evident; and plainly the things we fear
are terrible things, and these are, to speak without qualification,
evils; for which reason people even define fear as expectation of
evil. Now we fear all evils, e.g. disgrace, poverty, disease,
friendlessness, death, but the brave man is not thought to be
concerned with all; for to fear some things is even right and
noble, and it is base not to fear them e.g. disgrace; he who
fears this is good and modest, and he who does not is
shameless. He is, however, by some people called brave, by a
2593
2594
7
What is terrible is not the same for all men; but we say there are
things terrible even beyond human strength. These, then, are
terrible to every one at least to every sensible man; but the
terrible things that are not beyond human strength differ in
magnitude and degree, and so too do the things that inspire
confidence. Now the brave man is as dauntless as man may be.
Therefore, while he will fear even the things that are not beyond
human strength, he will face them as he ought and as the rule
directs, for honours sake; for this is the end of virtue. But it is
possible to fear these more, or less, and again to fear things that
are not terrible as if they were. Of the faults that are committed
one consists in fearing what one should not, another in fearing
as we should not, another in fearing when we should not, and
so on; and so too with respect to the things that inspire
confidence. The man, then, who faces and who fears the right
things and from the right motive, in the right way and from the
right time, and who feels confidence under the corresponding
conditions, is brave; for the brave man feels and acts according
to the merits of the case and in whatever way the rule directs.
Now the end of every activity is conformity to the
corresponding state of character. This is true, therefore, of the
brave man as well as of others. But courage is noble. Therefore
the end also is noble; for each thing is defined by its end.
Therefore it is for a noble end that the brave man endures and
acts as courage directs.
Of those who go to excess he who exceeds in fearlessness has
no name (we have said previously that many states of character
have no names), but he would be a sort of madman or
insensible person if he feared nothing, neither earthquakes nor
the waves, as they say the Celts do not; while the man who
2595
2596
8
Courage, then, is something of this sort, but the name is also
applied to five other kinds.
First comes the courage of the citizen-soldier; for this is most
like true courage. Citizen-soldiers seem to face dangers because
of the penalties imposed by the laws and the reproaches they
would otherwise incur, and because of the honours they win by
such action; and therefore those peoples seem to be bravest
among whom cowards are held in dishonour and brave men in
honour. This is the kind of courage that Homer depicts, e.g. in
Diomede and in Hector:
First will Polydamas be to heap reproach on me then; and
For Hector one day mid the Trojans shall utter his vaulting
harangue:
Afraid was Tydeides, and fled from my face.
This kind of courage is most like to that which we described
earlier, because it is due to virtue; for it is due to shame and to
desire of a noble object (i.e. honour) and avoidance of disgrace,
which is ignoble. One might rank in the same class even those
who are compelled by their rulers; but they are inferior,
inasmuch as they do what they do not from shame but from
fear, and to avoid not what is disgraceful but what is painful; for
their masters compel them, as Hector does:
But if I shall spy any dastard that cowers far from the fight,
Vainly will such an one hope to escape from the dogs.
And those who give them their posts, and beat them if they
retreat, do the same, and so do those who draw them up with
trenches or something of the sort behind them; all of these
2597
2598
honours sake, but passion aids them; while wild beasts act
under the influence of pain; for they attack because they have
been wounded or because they are afraid, since if they are in a
forest they do not come near one. Thus they are not brave
because, driven by pain and passion, they rush on danger
without foreseeing any of the perils, since at that rate even
asses would be brave when they are hungry; for blows will not
drive them from their food; and lust also makes adulterers do
many daring things. (Those creatures are not brave, then, which
are driven on to danger by pain or passion.) The courage that is
due to passion seems to be the most natural, and to be courage
if choice and motive be added.
Men, then, as well as beasts, suffer pain when they are angry,
and are pleased when they exact their revenge; those who fight
for these reasons, however, are pugnacious but not brave; for
they do not act for honours sake nor as the rule directs, but
from strength of feeling; they have, however, something akin to
courage.
(4) Nor are sanguine people brave; for they are confident in
danger only because they have conquered often and against
many foes. Yet they closely resemble brave men, because both
are confident; but brave men are confident for the reasons
stated earlier, while these are so because they think they are the
strongest and can suffer nothing. (Drunken men also behave in
this way; they become sanguine). When their adventures do not
succeed, however, they run away; but it was the mark of a brave
man to face things that are, and seem, terrible for a man,
because it is noble to do so and disgraceful not to do so. Hence
also it is thought the mark of a braver man to be fearless and
undisturbed in sudden alarms than to be so in those that are
foreseen; for it must have proceeded more from a state of
character, because less from preparation; acts that are foreseen
2599
9
Though courage is concerned with feelings of confidence and of
fear, it is not concerned with both alike, but more with the
things that inspire fear; for he who is undisturbed in face of
these and bears himself as he should towards these is more
truly brave than the man who does so towards the things that
inspire confidence. It is for facing what is painful, then, as has
been said, that men are called brave. Hence also courage
involves pain, and is justly praised; for it is harder to face what
is painful than to abstain from what is pleasant.
Yet the end which courage sets before it would seem to be
pleasant, but to be concealed by the attending circumstances, as
happens also in athletic contests; for the end at which boxers
aim is pleasant the crown and the honours but the blows
they take are distressing to flesh and blood, and painful, and so
is their whole exertion; and because the blows and the
2600
exertions are many the end, which is but small, appears to have
nothing pleasant in it. And so, if the case of courage is similar,
death and wounds will be painful to the brave man and against
his will, but he will face them because it is noble to do so or
because it is base not to do so. And the more he is possessed of
virtue in its entirety and the happier he is, the more he will be
pained at the thought of death; for life is best worth living for
such a man, and he is knowingly losing the greatest goods, and
this is painful. But he is none the less brave, and perhaps all the
more so, because he chooses noble deeds of war at that cost. It
is not the case, then, with all the virtues that the exercise of
them is pleasant, except in so far as it reaches its end. But it is
quite possible that the best soldiers may be not men of this sort
but those who are less brave but have no other good; for these
are ready to face danger, and they sell their life for trifling gains.
So much, then, for courage; it is not difficult to grasp its nature
in outline, at any rate, from what has been said.
10
After courage let us speak of temperance; for these seem to be
the virtues of the irrational parts. We have said that temperance
is a mean with regard to pleasures (for it is less, and not in the
same way, concerned with pains); self-indulgence also is
manifested in the same sphere. Now, therefore, let us determine
with what sort of pleasures they are concerned. We may assume
the distinction between bodily pleasures and those of the soul,
such as love of honour and love of learning; for the lover of each
of these delights in that of which he is a lover, the body being in
no way affected, but rather the mind; but men who are
concerned with such pleasures are called neither temperate nor
2601
self-indulgent. Nor, again, are those who are concerned with the
other pleasures that are not bodily; for those who are fond of
hearing and telling stories and who spend their days on
anything that turns up are called gossips, but not self-indulgent,
nor are those who are pained at the loss of money or of friends.
Temperance must be concerned with bodily pleasures, but not
all even of these; for those who delight in objects of vision, such
as colours and shapes and painting, are called neither
temperate nor self-indulgent; yet it would seem possible to
delight even in these either as one should or to excess or to a
deficient degree.
And so too is it with objects of hearing; no one calls those who
delight extravagantly in music or acting self-indulgent, nor
those who do so as they ought temperate.
Nor do we apply these names to those who delight in odour,
unless it be incidentally; we do not call those self-indulgent
who delight in the odour of apples or roses or incense, but
rather those who delight in the odour of unguents or of dainty
dishes; for self-indulgent people delight in these because these
remind them of the objects of their appetite. And one may see
even other people, when they are hungry, delighting in the
smell of food; but to delight in this kind of thing is the mark of
the self-indulgent man; for these are objects of appetite to him.
Nor is there in animals other than man any pleasure connected
with these senses, except incidentally. For dogs do not delight in
the scent of hares, but in the eating of them, but the scent told
them the hares were there; nor does the lion delight in the
lowing of the ox, but in eating it; but he perceived by the lowing
that it was near, and therefore appears to delight in the lowing;
and similarly he does not delight because he sees a stag or a
wild goat, but because he is going to make a meal of it.
Temperance and self-indulgence, however, are concerned with
2602
the kind of pleasures that the other animals share in, which
therefore appear slavish and brutish; these are touch and taste.
But even of taste they appear to make little or no use; for the
business of taste is the discriminating of flavours, which is done
by winetasters and people who season dishes; but they hardly
take pleasure in making these discriminations, or at least selfindulgent people do not, but in the actual enjoyment, which in
all cases comes through touch, both in the case of food and in
that of drink and in that of sexual intercourse. This is why a
certain gourmand prayed that his throat might become longer
than a cranes, implying that it was the contact that he took
pleasure in. Thus the sense with which self-indulgence is
connected is the most widely shared of the senses; and selfindulgence would seem to be justly a matter of reproach,
because it attaches to us not as men but as animals. To delight
in such things, then, and to love them above all others, is
brutish. For even of the pleasures of touch the most liberal have
been eliminated, e.g. those produced in the gymnasium by
rubbing and by the consequent heat; for the contact
characteristic of the self-indulgent man does not affect the
whole body but only certain parts.
11
Of the appetites some seem to be common, others to be
peculiar to individuals and acquired; e.g. the appetite for food is
natural, since every one who is without it craves for food or
drink, and sometimes for both, and for love also (as Homer says)
if he is young and lusty; but not every one craves for this or that
kind of nourishment or love, nor for the same things. Hence
such craving appears to be our very own. Yet it has of course
something natural about it; for different things are pleasant to
2603
2604
12
Self-indulgence is more like a voluntary state than cowardice.
For the former is actuated by pleasure, the latter by pain, of
which the one is to be chosen and the other to be avoided; and
pain upsets and destroys the nature of the person who feels it,
while pleasure does nothing of the sort. Therefore selfindulgence is more voluntary. Hence also it is more a matter of
reproach; for it is easier to become accustomed to its objects,
since there are many things of this sort in life, and the process
of habituation to them is free from danger, while with terrible
objects the reverse is the case. But cowardice would seem to be
2605
2606
Book IV
1
Let us speak next of liberality. It seems to be the mean with
regard to wealth; for the liberal man is praised not in respect of
military matters, nor of those in respect of which the temrate
man is praised, nor of judicial decisions, but with regard to the
giving and taking of wealth, and especially in respect of giving.
Now by wealth we mean all the things whose value is
measured by money. Further, prodigality and meanness are
excesses and defects with regard to wealth; and meanness we
always impute to those who care more than they ought for
wealth, but we sometimes apply the word prodigality in a
complex sense; for we call those men prodigals who are
incontinent and spend money on self-indulgence. Hence also
they are thought the poorest characters; for they combine more
vices than one. Therefore the application of the word to them is
not its proper use; for a prodigal means a man who has a
single evil quality, that of wasting his substance; since a
prodigal is one who is being ruined by his own fault, and the
wasting of substance is thought to be a sort of ruining of
oneself, life being held to depend on possession of substance.
This, then, is the sense in which we take the word prodigality.
Now the things that have a use may be used either well or
2607
2609
2610
2611
men mean) and more innate in men than prodigality; for most
men are fonder of getting money than of giving. It also extends
widely, and is multiform, since there seem to be many kinds of
meanness.
For it consists in two things, deficiency in giving and excess in
taking, and is not found complete in all men but is sometimes
divided; some men go to excess in taking, others fall short in
giving. Those who are called by such names as miserly, close,
stingy, all fall short in giving, but do not covet the possessions
of others nor wish to get them. In some this is due to a sort of
honesty and avoidance of what is disgraceful (for some seem, or
at least profess, to hoard their money for this reason, that they
may not some day be forced to do something disgraceful; to this
class belong the cheeseparer and every one of the sort; he is so
called from his excess of unwillingness to give anything); while
others again keep their hands off the property of others from
fear, on the ground that it is not easy, if one takes the property
of others oneself, to avoid having ones own taken by them; they
are therefore content neither to take nor to give.
Others again exceed in respect of taking by taking anything and
from any source, e.g. those who ply sordid trades, pimps and all
such people, and those who lend small sums and at high rates.
For all of these take more than they ought and from wrong
sources. What is common to them is evidently sordid love of
gain; they all put up with a bad name for the sake of gain, and
little gain at that. For those who make great gains but from
wrong sources, and not the right gains, e.g. despots when they
sack cities and spoil temples, we do not call mean but rather
wicked, impious, and unjust. But the gamester and the footpad
(and the highwayman) belong to the class of the mean, since
they have a sordid love of gain. For it is for gain that both of
them ply their craft and endure the disgrace of it, and the one
faces the greatest dangers for the sake of the booty, while the
2612
2
It would seem proper to discuss magnificence next. For this also
seems to be a virtue concerned with wealth; but it does not like
liberality extend to all the actions that are concerned with
wealth, but only to those that involve expenditure; and in these
it surpasses liberality in scale. For, as the name itself suggests, it
is a fitting expenditure involving largeness of scale. But the
scale is relative; for the expense of equipping a trireme is not
the same as that of heading a sacred embassy. It is what is
fitting, then, in relation to the agent, and to the circumstances
and the object. The man who in small or middling things
spends according to the merits of the case is not called
magnificent (e.g. the man who can say many a gift I gave the
wanderer), but only the man who does so in great things. For
the magnificent man is liberal, but the liberal man is not
necessarily magnificent. The deficiency of this state of character
is called niggardliness, the excess vulgarity, lack of taste, and
the like, which do not go to excess in the amount spent on right
objects, but by showy expenditure in the wrong circumstances
and the wrong manner; we shall speak of these vices later.
2613
2614
for the expenditure should be worthy of his means, and suit not
only the result but also the producer. Hence a poor man cannot
be magnificent, since he has not the means with which to
spend large sums fittingly; and he who tries is a fool, since he
spends beyond what can be expected of him and what is proper,
but it is right expenditure that is virtuous. But great expenditure
is becoming to those who have suitable means to start with,
acquired by their own efforts or from ancestors or connexions,
and to people of high birth or reputation, and so on; for all these
things bring with them greatness and prestige. Primarily, then,
the magnificent man is of this sort, and magnificence is shown
in expenditures of this sort, as has been said; for these are the
greatest and most honourable. Of private occasions of
expenditure the most suitable are those that take place once for
all, e.g. a wedding or anything of the kind, or anything that
interests the whole city or the people of position in it, and also
the receiving of foreign guests and the sending of them on their
way, and gifts and counter-gifts; for the magnificent man
spends not on himself but on public objects, and gifts bear
some resemblance to votive offerings. A magnificent man will
also furnish his house suitably to his wealth (for even a house is
a sort of public ornament), and will spend by preference on
those works that are lasting (for these are the most beautiful),
and on every class of things he will spend what is becoming; for
the same things are not suitable for gods and for men, nor in a
temple and in a tomb. And since each expenditure may be great
of its kind, and what is most magnificent absolutely is great
expenditure on a great object, but what is magnificent here is
what is great in these circumstances, and greatness in the work
differs from greatness in the expense (for the most beautiful
ball or bottle is magnificent as a gift to a child, but the price of it
is small and mean), therefore it is characteristic of the
magnificent man, whatever kind of result he is producing, to
2615
3
Pride seems even from its name to be concerned with great
things; what sort of great things, is the first question we must
try to answer. It makes no difference whether we consider the
state of character or the man characterized by it. Now the man
is thought to be proud who thinks himself worthy of great
things, being worthy of them; for he who does so beyond his
deserts is a fool, but no virtuous man is foolish or silly. The
2616
2617
2618
to Zeus the services she had done him, and why the Spartans
did not recount their services to the Athenians, but those they
had received. It is a mark of the proud man also to ask for
nothing or scarcely anything, but to give help readily, and to be
dignified towards people who enjoy high position and good
fortune, but unassuming towards those of the middle class; for
it is a difficult and lofty thing to be superior to the former, but
easy to be so to the latter, and a lofty bearing over the former is
no mark of ill-breeding, but among humble people it is as vulgar
as a display of strength against the weak. Again, it is
characteristic of the proud man not to aim at the things
commonly held in honour, or the things in which others excel;
to be sluggish and to hold back except where great honour or a
great work is at stake, and to be a man of few deeds, but of great
and notable ones. He must also be open in his hate and in his
love (for to conceal ones feelings, i.e. to care less for truth than
for what people will think, is a cowards part), and must speak
and act openly; for he is free of speech because he is
contemptuous, and he is given to telling the truth, except when
he speaks in irony to the vulgar. He must be unable to make his
life revolve round another, unless it be a friend; for this is
slavish, and for this reason all flatterers are servile and people
lacking in self-respect are flatterers. Nor is he given to
admiration; for nothing to him is great. Nor is he mindful of
wrongs; for it is not the part of a proud man to have a long
memory, especially for wrongs, but rather to overlook them. Nor
is he a gossip; for he will speak neither about himself nor about
another, since he cares not to be praised nor for others to be
blamed; nor again is he given to praise; and for the same reason
he is not an evil-speaker, even about his enemies, except from
haughtiness. With regard to necessary or small matters he is
least of all me given to lamentation or the asking of favours; for
it is the part of one who takes such matters seriously to behave
so with respect to them. He is one who will possess beautiful
2620
and profitless things rather than profitable and useful ones; for
this is more proper to a character that suffices to itself.
Further, a slow step is thought proper to the proud man, a deep
voice, and a level utterance; for the man who takes few things
seriously is not likely to be hurried, nor the man who thinks
nothing great to be excited, while a shrill voice and a rapid gait
are the results of hurry and excitement.
Such, then, is the proud man; the man who falls short of him is
unduly humble, and the man who goes beyond him is vain. Now
even these are not thought to be bad (for they are not
malicious), but only mistaken. For the unduly humble man,
being worthy of good things, robs himself of what he deserves,
and to have something bad about him from the fact that he
does not think himself worthy of good things, and seems also
not to know himself; else he would have desired the things he
was worthy of, since these were good. Yet such people are not
thought to be fools, but rather unduly retiring. Such a
reputation, however, seems actually to make them worse; for
each class of people aims at what corresponds to its worth, and
these people stand back even from noble actions and
undertakings, deeming themselves unworthy, and from external
goods no less. Vain people, on the other hand, are fools and
ignorant of themselves, and that manifestly; for, not being
worthy of them, they attempt honourable undertakings, and
then are found out; and tetadorn themselves with clothing and
outward show and such things, and wish their strokes of good
fortune to be made public, and speak about them as if they
would be honoured for them. But undue humility is more
opposed to pride than vanity is; for it is both commoner and
worse.
Pride, then, is concerned with honour on the grand scale, as has
been said.
2621
4
There seems to be in the sphere of honour also, as was said in
our first remarks on the subject, a virtue which would appear to
be related to pride as liberality is to magnificence. For neither of
these has anything to do with the grand scale, but both dispose
us as is right with regard to middling and unimportant objects;
as in getting and giving of wealth there is a mean and an excess
and defect, so too honour may be desired more than is right, or
less, or from the right sources and in the right way. We blame
both the ambitious man as am at honour more than is right and
from wrong sources, and the unambitious man as not willing to
be honoured even for noble reasons. But sometimes we praise
the ambitious man as being manly and a lover of what is noble,
and the unambitious man as being moderate and selfcontrolled, as we said in our first treatment of the subject.
Evidently, since fond of such and such an object has more than
one meaning, we do not assign the term ambition or love of
honour always to the same thing, but when we praise the
quality we think of the man who loves honour more than most
people, and when we blame it we think of him who loves it
more than is right. The mean being without a name, the
extremes seem to dispute for its place as though that were
vacant by default. But where there is excess and defect, there is
also an intermediate; now men desire honour both more than
they should and less; therefore it is possible also to do so as one
should; at all events this is the state of character that is praised,
being an unnamed mean in respect of honour. Relatively to
ambition it seems to be unambitiousness, and relatively to
unambitiousness it seems to be ambition, while relatively to
both severally it seems in a sense to be both together. This
2622
appears to be true of the other virtues also. But in this case the
extremes seem to be contradictories because the mean has not
received a name.
5
Good temper is a mean with respect to anger; the middle state
being unnamed, and the extremes almost without a name as
well, we place good temper in the middle position, though it
inclines towards the deficiency, which is without a name. The
excess might called a sort of irascibility. For the passion is
anger, while its causes are many and diverse.
The man who is angry at the right things and with the right
people, and, further, as he ought, when he ought, and as long as
he ought, is praised. This will be the good-tempered man, then,
since good temper is praised. For the good-tempered man tends
to be unperturbed and not to be led by passion, but to be angry
in the manner, at the things, and for the length of time, that the
rule dictates; but he is thought to err rather in the direction of
deficiency; for the good-tempered man is not revengeful, but
rather tends to make allowances.
The deficiency, whether it is a sort of inirascibility or whatever
it is, is blamed. For those who are not angry at the things they
should be angry at are thought to be fools, and so are those who
are not angry in the right way, at the right time, or with the right
persons; for such a man is thought not to feel things nor to be
pained by them, and, since he does not get angry, he is thought
unlikely to defend himself; and to endure being insulted and
put up with insult to ones friends is slavish.
2623
The excess can be manifested in all the points that have been
named (for one can be angry with the wrong persons, at the
wrong things, more than is right, too quickly, or too long); yet all
are not found in the same person. Indeed they could not; for evil
destroys even itself, and if it is complete becomes unbearable.
Now hot-tempered people get angry quickly and with the wrong
persons and at the wrong things and more than is right, but
their anger ceases quickly which is the best point about them.
This happens to them because they do not restrain their anger
but retaliate openly owing to their quickness of temper, and
then their anger ceases. By reason of excess choleric people are
quick-tempered and ready to be angry with everything and on
every occasion; whence their name. Sulky people are hard to
appease, and retain their anger long; for they repress their
passion. But it ceases when they retaliate; for revenge relieves
them of their anger, producing in them pleasure instead of pain.
If this does not happen they retain their burden; for owing to its
not being obvious no one even reasons with them, and to digest
ones anger in oneself takes time. Such people are most
troublesome to themselves and to their dearest friends. We call
bad-tempered those who are angry at the wrong things, more
than is right, and longer, and cannot be appeased until they
inflict vengeance or punishment.
To good temper we oppose the excess rather than the defect; for
not only is it commoner since revenge is the more human), but
bad-tempered people are worse to live with.
What we have said in our earlier treatment of the subject is
plain also from what we are now saying; viz. that it is not easy
to define how, with whom, at what, and how long one should be
angry, and at what point right action ceases and wrong begins.
For the man who strays a little from the path, either towards the
more or towards the less, is not blamed; since sometimes we
praise those who exhibit the deficiency, and call them good-
2624
6
In gatherings of men, in social life and the interchange of words
and deeds, some men are thought to be obsequious, viz. those
who to give pleasure praise everything and never oppose, but
think it their duty to give no pain to the people they meet;
while those who, on the contrary, oppose everything and care
not a whit about giving pain are called churlish and
contentious. That the states we have named are culpable is
plain enough, and that the middle state is laudable that in
virtue of which a man will put up with, and will resent, the right
things and in the right way; but no name has been assigned to
it, though it most resembles friendship. For the man who
corresponds to this middle state is very much what, with
affection added, we call a good friend. But the state in question
differs from friendship in that it implies no passion or affection
for ones associates; since it is not by reason of loving or hating
that such a man takes everything in the right way, but by being
a man of a certain kind. For he will behave so alike towards
those he knows and those he does not know, towards intimates
2625
and those who are not so, except that in each of these cases he
will behave as is befitting; for it is not proper to have the same
care for intimates and for strangers, nor again is it the same
conditions that make it right to give pain to them. Now we have
said generally that he will associate with people in the right
way; but it is by reference to what is honourable and expedient
that he will aim at not giving pain or at contributing pleasure.
For he seems to be concerned with the pleasures and pains of
social life; and wherever it is not honourable, or is harmful, for
him to contribute pleasure, he will refuse, and will choose
rather to give pain; also if his acquiescence in anothers action
would bring disgrace, and that in a high degree, or injury, on
that other, while his opposition brings a little pain, he will not
acquiesce but will decline. He will associate differently with
people in high station and with ordinary people, with closer and
more distant acquaintances, and so too with regard to all other
differences, rendering to each class what is befitting, and while
for its own sake he chooses to contribute pleasure, and avoids
the giving of pain, he will be guided by the consequences, if
these are greater, i.e. honour and expediency. For the sake of a
great future pleasure, too, he will inflict small pains.
The man who attains the mean, then, is such as we have
described, but has not received a name; of those who contribute
pleasure, the man who aims at being pleasant with no ulterior
object is obsequious, but the man who does so in order that he
may get some advantage in the direction of money or the things
that money buys is a flatterer; while the man who quarrels with
everything is, as has been said, churlish and contentious. And
the extremes seem to be contradictory to each other because
the mean is without a name.
2626
7
The mean opposed to boastfulness is found in almost the same
sphere; and this also is without a name. It will be no bad plan to
describe these states as well; for we shall both know the facts
about character better if we go through them in detail, and we
shall be convinced that the virtues are means if we see this to
be so in all cases. In the field of social life those who make the
giving of pleasure or pain their object in associating with others
have been described; let us now describe those who pursue
truth or falsehood alike in words and deeds and in the claims
they put forward. The boastful man, then, is thought to be apt to
claim the things that bring glory, when he has not got them, or
to claim more of them than he has, and the mock-modest man
on the other hand to disclaim what he has or belittle it, while
the man who observes the mean is one who calls a thing by its
own name, being truthful both in life and in word, owning to
what he has, and neither more nor less. Now each of these
courses may be adopted either with or without an object. But
each man speaks and acts and lives in accordance with his
character, if he is not acting for some ulterior object. And
falsehood is in itself mean and culpable, and truth noble and
worthy of praise. Thus the truthful man is another case of a
man who, being in the mean, is worthy of praise, and both
forms of untruthful man are culpable, and particularly the
boastful man.
Let us discuss them both, but first of all the truthful man. We
are not speaking of the man who keeps faith in his agreements,
i.e. in the things that pertain to justice or injustice (for this
would belong to another virtue), but the man who in the
matters in which nothing of this sort is at stake is true both in
word and in life because his character is such. But such a man
would seem to be as a matter of fact equitable. For the man who
loves truth, and is truthful where nothing is at stake, will still
2627
2628
8
Since life includes rest as well as activity, and in this is included
leisure and amusement, there seems here also to be a kind of
intercourse which is tasteful; there is such a thing as saying
and again listening to what one should and as one should. The
kind of people one is speaking or listening to will also make a
difference. Evidently here also there is both an excess and a
deficiency as compared with the mean. Those who carry
humour to excess are thought to be vulgar buffoons, striving
after humour at all costs, and aiming rather at raising a laugh
than at saying what is becoming and at avoiding pain to the
object of their fun; while those who can neither make a joke
themselves nor put up with those who do are thought to be
boorish and unpolished. But those who joke in a tasteful way
are called ready-witted, which implies a sort of readiness to
turn this way and that; for such sallies are thought to be
movements of the character, and as bodies are discriminated by
their movements, so too are characters. The ridiculous side of
things is not far to seek, however, and most people delight more
than they should in amusement and in jestinly. and so even
buffoons are called ready-witted because they are found
attractive; but that they differ from the ready-witted man, and
to no small extent, is clear from what has been said.
To the middle state belongs also tact; it is the mark of a tactful
man to say and listen to such things as befit a good and wellbred man; for there are some things that it befits such a man to
say and to hear by way of jest, and the well-bred mans jesting
2629
2630
9
Shame should not be described as a virtue; for it is more like a
feeling than a state of character. It is defined, at any rate, as a
kind of fear of dishonour, and produces an effect similar to that
produced by fear of danger; for people who feel disgraced blush,
and those who fear death turn pale. Both, therefore, seem to be
in a sense bodily conditions, which is thought to be
characteristic of feeling rather than of a state of character.
The feeling is not becoming to every age, but only to youth. For
we think young people should be prone to the feeling of shame
because they live by feeling and therefore commit many errors,
but are restrained by shame; and we praise young people who
are prone to this feeling, but an older person no one would
praise for being prone to the sense of disgrace, since we think
he should not do anything that need cause this sense. For the
sense of disgrace is not even characteristic of a good man, since
it is consequent on bad actions (for such actions should not be
done; and if some actions are disgraceful in very truth and
others only according to common opinion, this makes no
difference; for neither class of actions should be done, so that
no disgrace should be felt); and it is a mark of a bad man even
to be such as to do any disgraceful action. To be so constituted
as to feel disgraced if one does such an action, and for this
reason to think oneself good, is absurd; for it is for voluntary
actions that shame is felt, and the good man will never
voluntarily do bad actions. But shame may be said to be
conditionally a good thing; if a good man does such actions, he
will feel disgraced; but the virtues are not subject to such a
qualification. And if shamelessness not to be ashamed of
doing base actions is bad, that does not make it good to be
2631
Book V
1
With regards to justice and injustice we must (1) consider what
kind of actions they are concerned with, (2) what sort of mean
justice is, and (3) between what extremes the just act is
intermediate. Our investigation shall follow the same course as
the preceding discussions.
We see that all men mean by justice that kind of state of
character which makes people disposed to do what is just and
makes them act justly and wish for what is just; and similarly
by injustice that state which makes them act unjustly and wish
for what is unjust. Let us too, then, lay this down as a general
basis. For the same is not true of the sciences and the faculties
as of states of character. A faculty or a science which is one and
the same is held to relate to contrary objects, but a state of
character which is one of two contraries does not produce the
contrary results; e.g. as a result of health we do not do what is
the opposite of healthy, but only what is healthy; for we say a
man walks healthily, when he walks as a healthy man would.
2632
2633
2
But at all events what we are investigating is the justice which
is a part of virtue; for there is a justice of this kind, as we
maintain. Similarly it is with injustice in the particular sense
that we are concerned.
That there is such a thing is indicated by the fact that while the
man who exhibits in action the other forms of wickedness acts
wrongly indeed, but not graspingly (e.g. the man who throws
away his shield through cowardice or speaks harshly through
bad temper or fails to help a friend with money through
meanness), when a man acts graspingly he often exhibits none
of these vices, no, nor all together, but certainly wickedness of
some kind (for we blame him) and injustice. There is, then,
another kind of injustice which is a part of injustice in the wide
sense, and a use of the word unjust which answers to a part of
what is unjust in the wide sense of contrary to the law. Again if
one man commits adultery for the sake of gain and makes
money by it, while another does so at the bidding of appetite
though he loses money and is penalized for it, the latter would
2635
2636
2637
3
(A) We have shown that both the unjust man and the unjust act
are unfair or unequal; now it is clear that there is also an
intermediate between the two unequals involved in either case.
And this is the equal; for in any kind of action in which theres a
more and a less there is also what is equal. If, then, the unjust is
unequal, just is equal, as all men suppose it to be, even apart
from argument. And since the equal is intermediate, the just
will be an intermediate. Now equality implies at least two
things. The just, then, must be both intermediate and equal and
relative (i.e. for certain persons). And since the equall
intermediate it must be between certain things (which are
respectively greater and less); equal, it involves two things; qua
just, it is for certain people. The just, therefore, involves at least
four terms; for the persons for whom it is in fact just are two,
and the things in which it is manifested, the objects distributed,
are two. And the same equality will exist between the persons
and between the things concerned; for as the latter the things
concerned are related, so are the former; if they are not equal,
they will not have what is equal, but this is the origin of
quarrels and complaints when either equals have and are
awarded unequal shares, or unequals equal shares. Further, this
is plain from the fact that awards should be according to merit;
for all men agree that what is just in distribution must be
according to merit in some sense, though they do not all specify
the same sort of merit, but democrats identify it with the status
of freeman, supporters of oligarchy with wealth (or with noble
birth), and supporters of aristocracy with excellence.
The just, then, is a species of the proportionate (proportion
being not a property only of the kind of number which consists
of abstract units, but of number in general). For proportion is
2638
2639
4
(B) The remaining one is the rectificatory, which arises in
connexion with transactions both voluntary and involuntary.
This form of the just has a different specific character from the
former. For the justice which distributes common possessions is
always in accordance with the kind of proportion mentioned
above (for in the case also in which the distribution is made
from the common funds of a partnership it will be according to
the same ratio which the funds put into the business by the
partners bear to one another); and the injustice opposed to this
kind of justice is that which violates the proportion. But the
justice in transactions between man and man is a sort of
equality indeed, and the injustice a sort of inequality; not
according to that kind of proportion, however, but according to
arithmetical proportion. For it makes no difference whether a
good man has defrauded a bad man or a bad man a good one,
nor whether it is a good or a bad man that has committed
adultery; the law looks only to the distinctive character of the
injury, and treats the parties as equal, if one is in the wrong and
the other is being wronged, and if one inflicted injury and the
other has received it. Therefore, this kind of injustice being an
inequality, the judge tries to equalize it; for in the case also in
which one has received and the other has inflicted a wound, or
one has slain and the other been slain, the suffering and the
action have been unequally distributed; but the judge tries to
equalize by means of the penalty, taking away from the gain of
the assailant. For the term gain is applied generally to such
cases, even if it be not a term appropriate to certain cases, e.g. to
the person who inflicts a woundand loss to the sufferer; at all
events when the suffering has been estimated, the one is called
2640
2641
from the line AA let the segment AE have been subtracted, and
to the line CC let the segment CD have been added, so that the
whole line DCC exceeds the line EA by the segment CD and the
segment CF; therefore it exceeds the line BB by the segment CD.
(See diagram.)
These names, both loss and gain, have come from voluntary
exchange; for to have more than ones own is called gaining,
and to have less than ones original share is called losing, e.g. in
buying and selling and in all other matters in which the law has
left people free to make their own terms; but when they get
neither more nor less but just what belongs to themselves, they
say that they have their own and that they neither lose nor
gain.
Therefore the just is intermediate between a sort of gain and a
sort of loss, viz. those which are involuntary; it consists in
having an equal amount before and after the transaction.
5
Some think that reciprocity is without qualification just, as the
Pythagoreans said; for they defined justice without qualification
as reciprocity. Now reciprocity fits neither distributive nor
rectificatory justice yet people want even the justice of
Rhadamanthus to mean this:
Should a man suffer what he did, right justice would be done
for in many cases reciprocity and rectificatory justice are not in
accord; e.g. (1) if an official has inflicted a wound, he should not
be wounded in return, and if some one has wounded an official,
he ought not to be wounded only but punished in addition.
Further (2) there is a great difference between a voluntary and
2642
2644
6
Since acting unjustly does not necessarily imply being unjust,
we must ask what sort of unjust acts imply that the doer is
unjust with respect to each type of injustice, e.g. a thief, an
adulterer, or a brigand. Surely the answer does not turn on the
difference between these types. For a man might even lie with a
woman knowing who she was, but the origin of his might be not
deliberate choice but passion. He acts unjustly, then, but is not
unjust; e.g. a man is not a thief, yet he stole, nor an adulterer,
yet he committed adultery; and similarly in all other cases.
Now we have previously stated how the reciprocal is related to
the just; but we must not forget that what we are looking for is
not only what is just without qualification but also political
justice. This is found among men who share their life with a
view to selfsufficiency, men who are free and either
proportionately or arithmetically equal, so that between those
who do not fulfil this condition there is no political justice but
justice in a special sense and by analogy. For justice exists only
between men whose mutual relations are governed by law; and
law exists for men between whom there is injustice; for legal
justice is the discrimination of the just and the unjust. And
between men between whom there is injustice there is also
2646
2647
7
Of political justice part is natural, part legal, natural, that which
everywhere has the same force and does not exist by peoples
thinking this or that; legal, that which is originally indifferent,
but when it has been laid down is not indifferent, e.g. that a
prisoners ransom shall be a mina, or that a goat and not two
sheep shall be sacrificed, and again all the laws that are passed
for particular cases, e.g. that sacrifice shall be made in honour
of Brasidas, and the provisions of decrees. Now some think that
all justice is of this sort, because that which is by nature is
unchangeable and has everywhere the same force (as fire burns
both here and in Persia), while they see change in the things
recognized as just. This, however, is not true in this unqualified
way, but is true in a sense; or rather, with the gods it is perhaps
not true at all, while with us there is something that is just even
by nature, yet all of it is changeable; but still some is by nature,
some not by nature. It is evident which sort of thing, among
things capable of being otherwise, is by nature, and which is not
but is legal and conventional, assuming that both are equally
changeable. And in all other things the same distinction will
apply; by nature the right hand is stronger, yet it is possible that
all men should come to be ambidextrous. The things which are
just by virtue of convention and expediency are like measures;
for wine and corn measures are not everywhere equal, but
larger in wholesale and smaller in retail markets. Similarly, the
things which are just not by nature but by human enactment
are not everywhere the same, since constitutions also are not
the same, though there is but one which is everywhere by
nature the best. Of things just and lawful each is related as the
universal to its particulars; for the things that are done are
many, but of them each is one, since it is universal.
There is a difference between the act of injustice and what is
unjust, and between the act of justice and what is just; for a
2648
8
Acts just and unjust being as we have described them, a man
acts unjustly or justly whenever he does such acts voluntarily;
when involuntarily, he acts neither unjustly nor justly except in
an incidental way; for he does things which happen to be just or
unjust. Whether an act is or is not one of injustice (or of justice)
is determined by its voluntariness or involuntariness; for when
it is voluntary it is blamed, and at the same time is then an act
of injustice; so that there will be things that are unjust but not
yet acts of injustice, if voluntariness be not present as well. By
the voluntary I mean, as has been said before, any of the things
in a mans own power which he does with knowledge, i.e. not in
ignorance either of the person acted on or of the instrument
used or of the end that will be attained (e.g. whom he is striking,
with what, and to what end), each such act being done not
incidentally nor under compulsion (e.g. if A takes Bs hand and
therewith strikes C, B does not act voluntarily; for the act was
not in his own power). The person struck may be the strikers
father, and the striker may know that it is a man or one of the
persons present, but not know that it is his father; a similar
distinction may be made in the case of the end, and with regard
2649
2650
due to vice. But when (4) a man acts from choice, he is an unjust
man and a vicious man.
Hence acts proceeding from anger are rightly judged not to be
done of malice aforethought; for it is not the man who acts in
anger but he who enraged him that starts the mischief. Again,
the matter in dispute is not whether the thing happened or not,
but its justice; for it is apparent injustice that occasions rage.
For they do not dispute about the occurrence of the act as in
commercial transactions where one of the two parties must be
vicious unless they do so owing to forgetfulness; but, agreeing
about the fact, they dispute on which side justice lies (whereas
a man who has deliberately injured another cannot help
knowing that he has done so), so that the one thinks he is being
treated unjustly and the other disagrees.
But if a man harms another by choice, he acts unjustly; and
these are the acts of injustice which imply that the doer is an
unjust man, provided that the act violates proportion or
equality. Similarly, a man is just when he acts justly by choice;
but he acts justly if he merely acts voluntarily.
Of involuntary acts some are excusable, others not. For the
mistakes which men make not only in ignorance but also from
ignorance are excusable, while those which men do not from
ignorance but (though they do them in ignorance) owing to a
passion which is neither natural nor such as man is liable to,
are not excusable.
2651
9
Assuming that we have sufficiently defined the suffering and
doing of injustice, it may be asked (1) whether the truth in
expressed in Euripides paradoxical words:
I slew my mother, thats my tale in brief.
Were you both willing, or unwilling both?
Is it truly possible to be willingly treated unjustly, or is all
suffering of injustice the contrary involuntary, as all unjust
action is voluntary? And is all suffering of injustice of the latter
kind or else all of the former, or is it sometimes voluntary,
sometimes involuntary? So, too, with the case of being justly
treated; all just action is voluntary, so that it is reasonable that
there should be a similar opposition in either case that both
being unjustly and being justly treated should be either alike
voluntary or alike involuntary. But it would be thought
paradoxical even in the case of being justly treated, if it were
always voluntary; for some are unwillingly treated justly. (2) One
might raise this question also, whether every one who has
suffered what is unjust is being unjustly treated, or on the other
hand it is with suffering as with acting. In action and in
passivity alike it is possible to partake of justice incidentally,
and similarly (it is plain) of injustice; for to do what is unjust is
not the same as to act unjustly, nor to suffer what is unjust as
to be treated unjustly, and similarly in the case of acting justly
and being justly treated; for it is impossible to be unjustly
treated if the other does not act unjustly, or justly treated unless
he acts justly. Now if to act unjustly is simply to harm some one
voluntarily, and voluntarily means knowing the person acted
on, the instrument, and the manner of ones acting, and the
incontinent man voluntarily harms himself, not only will he
voluntarily be unjustly treated but it will be possible to treat
oneself unjustly. (This also is one of the questions in doubt,
2652
It is plain too that the distributor acts unjustly, but not always
the man who has the excessive share; for it is not he to whom
what is unjust appertains that acts unjustly, but he to whom it
appertains to do the unjust act voluntarily, i.e. the person in
whom lies the origin of the action, and this lies in the
distributor, not in the receiver. Again, since the word do is
ambiguous, and there is a sense in which lifeless things, or a
hand, or a servant who obeys an order, may be said to slay, he
who gets an excessive share does not act unjustly, though he
does what is unjust.
Again, if the distributor gave his judgement in ignorance, he
does not act unjustly in respect of legal justice, and his
judgement is not unjust in this sense, but in a sense it is unjust
(for legal justice and primordial justice are different); but if with
knowledge he judged unjustly, he is himself aiming at an
excessive share either of gratitude or of revenge. As much, then,
as if he were to share in the plunder, the man who has judged
unjustly for these reasons has got too much; the fact that what
he gets is different from what he distributes makes no
difference, for even if he awards land with a view to sharing in
the plunder he gets not land but money.
Men think that acting unjustly is in their power, and therefore
that being just is easy. But it is not; to lie with ones neighbours
wife, to wound another, to deliver a bribe, is easy and in our
power, but to do these things as a result of a certain state of
character is neither easy nor in our power. Similarly to know
what is just and what is unjust requires, men think, no great
wisdom, because it is not hard to understand the matters dealt
with by the laws (though these are not the things that are just,
except incidentally); but how actions must be done and
distributions effected in order to be just, to know this is a
greater achievement than knowing what is good for the health;
though even there, while it is easy to know that honey, wine,
2654
hellebore, cautery, and the use of the knife are so, to know how,
to whom, and when these should be applied with a view to
producing health, is no less an achievement than that of being a
physician. Again, for this very reason men think that acting
unjustly is characteristic of the just man no less than of the
unjust, because he would be not less but even more capable of
doing each of these unjust acts; for he could lie with a woman
or wound a neighbour; and the brave man could throw away his
shield and turn to flight in this direction or in that. But to play
the coward or to act unjustly consists not in doing these things,
except incidentally, but in doing them as the result of a certain
state of character, just as to practise medicine and healing
consists not in applying or not applying the knife, in using or
not using medicines, but in doing so in a certain way.
Just acts occur between people who participate in things good
in themselves and can have too much or too little of them; for
some beings (e.g. presumably the gods) cannot have too much
of them, and to others, those who are incurably bad, not even
the smallest share in them is beneficial but all such goods are
harmful, while to others they are beneficial up to a point;
therefore justice is essentially something human.
10
Our next subject is equity and the equitable (to epiekes), and
their respective relations to justice and the just. For on
examination they appear to be neither absolutely the same nor
generically different; and while we sometime praise what is
equitable and the equitable man (so that we apply the name by
way of praise even to instances of the other virtues, instead of
good meaning by epieikestebon that a thing is better), at other
2655
moulding; the rule adapts itself to the shape of the stone and is
not rigid, and so too the decree is adapted to the facts.
It is plain, then, what the equitable is, and that it is just and is
better than one kind of justice. It is evident also from this who
the equitable man is; the man who chooses and does such acts,
and is no stickler for his rights in a bad sense but tends to take
less than his share though he has the law oft his side, is
equitable, and this state of character is equity, which is a sort of
justice and not a different state of character.
11
Whether a man can treat himself unjustly or not, is evident
from what has been said. For (a) one class of just acts are those
acts in accordance with any virtue which are prescribed by the
law; e.g. the law does not expressly permit suicide, and what it
does not expressly permit it forbids. Again, when a man in
violation of the law harms another (otherwise than in
retaliation) voluntarily, he acts unjustly, and a voluntary agent is
one who knows both the person he is affecting by his action
and the instrument he is using; and he who through anger
voluntarily stabs himself does this contrary to the right rule of
life, and this the law does not allow; therefore he is acting
unjustly. But towards whom? Surely towards the state, not
towards himself. For he suffers voluntarily, but no one is
voluntarily treated unjustly. This is also the reason why the
state punishes; a certain loss of civil rights attaches to the man
who destroys himself, on the ground that he is treating the
state unjustly.
Further (b) in that sense of acting unjustly in which the man
who acts unjustly is unjust only and not bad all round, it is not
2657
2658
Book VI
1
Since we have previously said that one ought to choose that
which is intermediate, not the excess nor the defect, and that
the intermediate is determined by the dictates of the right rule,
let us discuss the nature of these dictates. In all the states of
character we have mentioned, as in all other matters, there is a
mark to which the man who has the rule looks, and heightens
2659
2
The virtue of a thing is relative to its proper work. Now there are
three things in the soul which control action and truth
sensation, reason, desire.
Of these sensation originates no action; this is plain from the
fact that the lower animals have sensation but no share in
action.
What affirmation and negation are in thinking, pursuit and
avoidance are in desire; so that since moral virtue is a state of
character concerned with choice, and choice is deliberate desire,
therefore both the reasoning must be true and the desire right,
if the choice is to be good, and the latter must pursue just what
the former asserts. Now this kind of intellect and of truth is
practical; of the intellect which is contemplative, not practical
nor productive, the good and the bad state are truth and falsity
respectively (for this is the work of everything intellectual);
while of the part which is practical and intellectual the good
state is truth in agreement with right desire.
The origin of action its efficient, not its final cause is choice,
and that of choice is desire and reasoning with a view to an end.
This is why choice cannot exist either without reason and
intellect or without a moral state; for good action and its
opposite cannot exist without a combination of intellect and
character. Intellect itself, however, moves nothing, but only the
intellect which aims at an end and is practical; for this rules the
2661
3
Let us begin, then, from the beginning, and discuss these states
once more. Let it be assumed that the states by virtue of which
the soul possesses truth by way of affirmation or denial are five
in number, i.e. art, scientific knowledge, practical wisdom,
philosophic wisdom, intuitive reason; we do not include
judgement and opinion because in these we may be mistaken.
Now what scientific knowledge is, if we are to speak exactly and
not follow mere similarities, is plain from what follows. We all
suppose that what we know is not even capable of being
2662
4
In the variable are included both things made and things done;
making and acting are different (for their nature we treat even
the discussions outside our school as reliable); so that the
reasoned state of capacity to act is different from the reasoned
state of capacity to make. Hence too they are not included one
in the other; for neither is acting making nor is making acting.
2663
5
Regarding practical wisdom we shall get at the truth by
considering who are the persons we credit with it. Now it is
thought to be the mark of a man of practical wisdom to be able
to deliberate well about what is good and expedient for himself,
not in some particular respect, e.g. about what sorts of thing
conduce to health or to strength, but about what sorts of thing
conduce to the good life in general. This is shown by the fact
that we credit men with practical wisdom in some particular
respect when they have calculated well with a view to some
good end which is one of those that are not the object of any
art. It follows that in the general sense also the man who is
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6
Scientific knowledge is judgement about things that are
universal and necessary, and the conclusions of demonstration,
and all scientific knowledge, follow from first principles (for
scientific knowledge involves apprehension of a rational
ground). This being so, the first principle from which what is
scientifically known follows cannot be an object of scientific
knowledge, of art, or of practical wisdom; for that which can be
scientifically known can be demonstrated, and art and practical
wisdom deal with things that are variable. Nor are these first
principles the objects of philosophic wisdom, for it is a mark of
the philosopher to have demonstration about some things. If,
then, the states of mind by which we have truth and are never
deceived about things invariable or even variable are scientific
knowlededge, practical wisdom, philosophic wisdom, and
intuitive reason, and it cannot be any of the three (i.e. practical
wisdom, scientific knowledge, or philosophic wisdom), the
remaining alternative is that it is intuitive reason that grasps
the first principles.
2666
7
Wisdom (1) in the arts we ascribe to their most finished
exponents, e.g. to Phidias as a sculptor and to Polyclitus as a
maker of portrait-statues, and here we mean nothing by
wisdom except excellence in art; but (2) we think that some
people are wise in general, not in some particular field or in any
other limited respect, as Homer says in the Margites,
Him did the gods make neither a digger nor yet a ploughman
Nor wise in anything else. Therefore wisdom must plainly be
the most finished of the forms of knowledge. It follows that the
wise man must not only know what follows from the first
principles, but must also possess truth about the first principles.
Therefore wisdom must be intuitive reason combined with
scientific knowledge scientific knowledge of the highest
objects which has received as it were its proper completion.
Of the highest objects, we say; for it would be strange to think
that the art of politics, or practical wisdom, is the best
knowledge, since man is not the best thing in the world. Now if
what is healthy or good is different for men and for fishes, but
what is white or straight is always the same, any one would say
that what is wise is the same but what is practically wise is
different; for it is to that which observes well the various
matters concerning itself that one ascribes practical wisdom,
and it is to this that one will entrust such matters. This is why
we say that some even of the lower animals have practical
wisdom, viz. those which are found to have a power of foresight
with regard to their own life. It is evident also that philosophic
wisdom and the art of politics cannot be the same; for if the
state of mind concerned with a mans own interests is to be
called philosophic wisdom, there will be many philosophic
2667
wisdoms; there will not be one concerned with the good of all
animals (any more than there is one art of medicine for all
existing things), but a different philosophic wisdom about the
good of each species.
But if the argument be that man is the best of the animals, this
makes no difference; for there are other things much more
divine in their nature even than man, e.g., most conspicuously,
the bodies of which the heavens are framed. From what has
been said it is plain, then, that philosophic wisdom is scientific
knowledge, combined with intuitive reason, of the things that
are highest by nature. This is why we say Anaxagoras, Thales,
and men like them have philosophic but not practical wisdom,
when we see them ignorant of what is to their own advantage,
and why we say that they know things that are remarkable,
admirable, difficult, and divine, but useless; viz. because it is not
human goods that they seek.
Practical wisdom on the other hand is concerned with things
human and things about which it is possible to deliberate; for
we say this is above all the work of the man of practical
wisdom, to deliberate well, but no one deliberates about things
invariable, nor about things which have not an end, and that a
good that can be brought about by action. The man who is
without qualification good at deliberating is the man who is
capable of aiming in accordance with calculation at the best for
man of things attainable by action. Nor is practical wisdom
concerned with universals only it must also recognize the
particulars; for it is practical, and practice is concerned with
particulars. This is why some who do not know, and especially
those who have experience, are more practical than others who
know; for if a man knew that light meats are digestible and
wholesome, but did not know which sorts of meat are light, he
would not produce health, but the man who knows that chicken
is wholesome is more likely to produce health.
2668
8
Political wisdom and practical wisdom are the same state of
mind, but their essence is not the same. Of the wisdom
concerned with the city, the practical wisdom which plays a
controlling part is legislative wisdom, while that which is
related to this as particulars to their universal is known by the
general name political wisdom; this has to do with action and
deliberation, for a decree is a thing to be carried out in the form
of an individual act. This is why the exponents of this art are
alone said to take part in politics; for these alone do things as
manual labourers do things.
Practical wisdom also is identified especially with that form of it
which is concerned with a man himself with the individual;
and this is known by the general name practical wisdom; of
the other kinds one is called household management, another
legislation, the third politics, and of the latter one part is called
deliberative and the other judicial. Now knowing what is good
for oneself will be one kind of knowledge, but it is very different
from the other kinds; and the man who knows and concerns
himself with his own interests is thought to have practical
wisdom, while politicians are thought to be busybodies; hence
the word of Euripides,
But how could I be wise, who might at ease,
Numbered among the armys multitude,
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2670
9
There is a difference between inquiry and deliberation; for
deliberation is inquiry into a particular kind of thing. We must
grasp the nature of excellence in deliberation as well whether it
is a form of scientific knowledge, or opinion, or skill in
conjecture, or some other kind of thing. Scientific knowledge it
is not; for men do not inquire about the things they know about,
but good deliberation is a kind of deliberation, and he who
deliberates inquires and calculates. Nor is it skill in conjecture;
for this both involves no reasoning and is something that is
quick in its operation, while men deliberate a long time, and
they say that one should carry out quickly the conclusions of
ones deliberation, but should deliberate slowly. Again, readiness
of mind is different from excellence in deliberation; it is a sort
of skill in conjecture. Nor again is excellence in deliberation
opinion of any sort. But since the man who deliberates badly
makes a mistake, while he who deliberates well does so
correctly, excellence in deliberation is clearly a kind of
correctness, but neither of knowledge nor of opinion; for there
is no such thing as correctness of knowledge (since there is no
such thing as error of knowledge), and correctness of opinion is
truth; and at the same time everything that is an object of
opinion is already determined. But again excellence in
2671
10
Understanding, also, and goodness of understanding, in virtue
of which men are said to be men of understanding or of good
understanding, are neither entirely the same as opinion or
scientific knowledge (for at that rate all men would have been
men of understanding), nor are they one of the particular
sciences, such as medicine, the science of things connected
with health, or geometry, the science of spatial magnitudes. For
understanding is neither about things that are always and are
unchangeable, nor about any and every one of the things that
come into being, but about things which may become subjects
of questioning and deliberation. Hence it is about the same
objects as practical wisdom; but understanding and practical
wisdom are not the same. For practical wisdom issues
commands, since its end is what ought to be done or not to be
done; but understanding only judges. (Understanding is
identical with goodness of understanding, men of
understanding with men of good understanding.) Now
understanding is neither the having nor the acquiring of
practical wisdom; but as learning is called understanding when
it means the exercise of the faculty of knowledge, so
understanding is applicable to the exercise of the faculty of
opinion for the purpose of judging of what some one else says
about matters with which practical wisdom is concerned and
of judging soundly; for well and soundly are the same thing.
And from this has come the use of the name understanding in
virtue of which men are said to be of good understanding, viz.
2673
11
What is called judgement, in virtue of which men are said to be
sympathetic judges and to have judgement, is the right
discrimination of the equitable. This is shown by the fact that
we say the equitable man is above all others a man of
sympathetic judgement, and identify equity with sympathetic
judgement about certain facts. And sympathetic judgement is
judgement which discriminates what is equitable and does so
correctly; and correct judgement is that which judges what is
true.
Now all the states we have considered converge, as might be
expected, to the same point; for when we speak of judgement
and understanding and practical wisdom and intuitive reason
we credit the same people with possessing judgement and
having reached years of reason and with having practical
wisdom and understanding. For all these faculties deal with
ultimates, i.e. with particulars; and being a man of
understanding and of good or sympathetic judgement consists
in being able judge about the things with which practical
wisdom is concerned; for the equities are common to all good
men in relation to other men. Now all things which have to be
done are included among particulars or ultimates; for not only
must the man of practical wisdom know particular facts, but
understanding and judgement are also concerned with things
to be done, and these are ultimates. And intuitive reason is
concerned with the ultimates in both directions; for both the
first terms and the last are objects of intuitive reason and not of
2674
12
Difficulties might be raised as to the utility of these qualities of
mind. For (1) philosophic wisdom will contemplate none of the
things that will make a man happy (for it is not concerned with
any coming into being), and though practical wisdom has this
2675
2676
13
We must therefore consider virtue also once more; for virtue too
is similarly related; as practical wisdom is to cleverness not
the same, but like it so is natural virtue to virtue in the strict
sense. For all men think that each type of character belongs to
its possessors in some sense by nature; for from the very
moment of birth we are just or fitted for selfcontrol or brave or
have the other moral qualities; but yet we seek something else
as that which is good in the strict sense we seek for the
presence of such qualities in another way. For both children and
brutes have the natural dispositions to these qualities, but
without reason these are evidently hurtful. Only we seem to see
this much, that, while one may be led astray by them, as a
strong body which moves without sight may stumble badly
because of its lack of sight, still, if a man once acquires reason,
that makes a difference in action; and his state, while still like
what it was, will then be virtue in the strict sense. Therefore, as
in the part of us which forms opinions there are two types,
cleverness and practical wisdom, so too in the moral part there
are two types, natural virtue and virtue in the strict sense, and
of these the latter involves practical wisdom. This is why some
say that all the virtues are forms of practical wisdom, and why
Socrates in one respect was on the right track while in another
he went astray; in thinking that all the virtues were forms of
practical wisdom he was wrong, but in saying they implied
practical wisdom he was right. This is confirmed by the fact that
even now all men, when they define virtue, after naming the
2678
2679
Book VII
1
Let us now make a fresh beginning and point out that of moral
states to be avoided there are three kinds vice, incontinence,
brutishness. The contraries of two of these are evident, one we
call virtue, the other continence; to brutishness it would be
most fitting to oppose superhuman virtue, a heroic and divine
kind of virtue, as Homer has represented Priam saying of Hector
that he was very good,
For he seemed not, he,
The child of a mortal man, but as one that of Gods seed came.
Therefore if, as they say, men become gods by excess of virtue,
of this kind must evidently be the state opposed to the brutish
state; for as a brute has no vice or virtue, so neither has a god;
his state is higher than virtue, and that of a brute is a different
kind of state from vice.
Now, since it is rarely that a godlike man is found to use the
epithet of the Spartans, who when they admire any one highly
call him a godlike man so too the brutish type is rarely found
2680
2
Now we may ask (1) how a man who judges rightly can behave
incontinently. That he should behave so when he has
knowledge, some say is impossible; for it would be strange so
Socrates thought if when knowledge was in a man something
else could master it and drag it about like a slave. For Socrates
was entirely opposed to the view in question, holding that there
is no such thing as incontinence; no one, he said, when he
judges acts against what he judges best-people act so only by
reason of ignorance. Now this view plainly contradicts the
observed facts, and we must inquire about what happens to
such a man; if he acts by reason of ignorance, what is the
manner of his ignorance? For that the man who behaves
incontinently does not, before he gets into this state, think he
ought to act so, is evident. But there are some who concede
certain of Socrates contentions but not others; that nothing is
stronger than knowledge they admit, but not that on one acts
contrary to what has seemed to him the better course, and
therefore they say that the incontinent man has not knowledge
when he is mastered by his pleasures, but opinion. But if it is
opinion and not knowledge, if it is not a strong conviction that
resists but a weak one, as in men who hesitate, we sympathize
with their failure to stand by such convictions against strong
appetites; but we do not sympathize with wickedness, nor with
any of the other blameworthy states. Is it then practical wisdom
whose resistance is mastered? That is the strongest of all states.
But this is absurd; the same man will be at once practically wise
and incontinent, but no one would say that it is the part of a
practically wise man to do willingly the basest acts. Besides, it
has been shown before that the man of practical wisdom is one
2682
2683
3
Of some such kind are the difficulties that arise; some of these
points must be refuted and the others left in possession of the
field; for the solution of the difficulty is the discovery of the
truth. (1) We must consider first, then, whether incontinent
people act knowingly or not, and in what sense knowingly; then
(2) with what sorts of object the incontinent and the continent
man may be said to be concerned (i.e. whether with any and
every pleasure and pain or with certain determinate kinds), and
whether the continent man and the man of endurance are the
same or different; and similarly with regard to the other
matters germane to this inquiry. The starting-point of our
investigation is (a) the question whether the continent man and
the incontinent are differentiated by their objects or by their
attitude, i.e. whether the incontinent man is incontinent simply
2684
2685
term; one is predicable of the agent, the other of the object; e.g.
dry food is good for every man, and I am a man, or such and
such food is dry; but whether this food is such and such, of
this the incontinent man either has not or is not exercising the
knowledge. There will, then, be, firstly, an enormous difference
between these manners of knowing, so that to know in one way
when we act incontinently would not seem anything strange,
while to know in the other way would be extraordinary.
And further (c) the possession of knowledge in another sense
than those just named is something that happens to men; for
within the case of having knowledge but not using it we see a
difference of state, admitting of the possibility of having
knowledge in a sense and yet not having it, as in the instance of
a man asleep, mad, or drunk. But now this is just the condition
of men under the influence of passions; for outbursts of anger
and sexual appetites and some other such passions, it is
evident, actually alter our bodily condition, and in some men
even produce fits of madness. It is plain, then, that incontinent
people must be said to be in a similar condition to men asleep,
mad, or drunk. The fact that men use the language that flows
from knowledge proves nothing; for even men under the
influence of these passions utter scientific proofs and verses of
Empedocles, and those who have just begun to learn a science
can string together its phrases, but do not yet know it; for it has
to become part of themselves, and that takes time; so that we
must suppose that the use of language by men in an
incontinent state means no more than its utterance by actors
on the stage. (d) Again, we may also view the cause as follows
with reference to the facts of human nature. The one opinion is
universal, the other is concerned with the particular facts, and
here we come to something within the sphere of perception;
when a single opinion results from the two, the soul must in
one type of case affirm the conclusion, while in the case of
opinions concerned with production it must immediately act
2686
2687
4
(2) We must next discuss whether there is any one who is
incontinent without qualification, or all men who are
incontinent are so in a particular sense, and if there is, with
what sort of objects he is concerned. That both continent
persons and persons of endurance, and incontinent and soft
persons, are concerned with pleasures and pains, is evident.
Now of the things that produce pleasure some are necessary,
while others are worthy of choice in themselves but admit of
excess, the bodily causes of pleasure being necessary (by such I
mean both those concerned with food and those concerned
with sexual intercourse, i.e. the bodily matters with which we
defined self-indulgence and temperance as being concerned),
while the others are not necessary but worthy of choice in
themselves (e.g. victory, honour, wealth, and good and pleasant
things of this sort). This being so, (a) those who go to excess
with reference to the latter, contrary to the right rule which is in
themselves, are not called incontinent simply, but incontinent
with the qualification in respect of money, gain, honour, or
anger, not simply incontinent, on the ground that they are
different from incontinent people and are called incontinent by
reason of a resemblance. (Compare the case of Anthropos (Man),
who won a contest at the Olympic games; in his case the
general definition of man differed little from the definition
peculiar to him, but yet it was different.) This is shown by the
fact that incontinence either without qualification or in respect
2688
2689
blamed for being affected by them, for desiring and loving them,
but for doing so in a certain way, i.e. for going to excess. (This is
why all those who contrary to the rule either are mastered by or
pursue one of the objects which are naturally noble and good,
e.g. those who busy themselves more than they ought about
honour or about children and parents, (are not wicked); for
these too are good, and those who busy themselves about them
are praised; but yet there is an excess even in them if like
Niobe one were to fight even against the gods, or were to be as
much devoted to ones father as Satyrus nicknamed the filial,
who was thought to be very silly on this point.) There is no
wickedness, then, with regard to these objects, for the reason
named, viz. because each of them is by nature a thing worthy of
choice for its own sake; yet excesses in respect of them are bad
and to be avoided. Similarly there is no incontinence with
regard to them; for incontinence is not only to be avoided but is
also a thing worthy of blame; but owing to a similarity in the
state of feeling people apply the name incontinence, adding in
each case what it is in respect of, as we may describe as a bad
doctor or a bad actor one whom we should not call bad, simply.
As, then, in this case we do not apply the term without
qualification because each of these conditions is no shadness
but only analogous to it, so it is clear that in the other case also
that alone must be taken to be incontinence and continence
which is concerned with the same objects as temperance and
self-indulgence, but we apply the term to anger by virtue of a
resemblance; and this is why we say with a qualification
incontinent in respect of anger as we say incontinent in
respect of honour, or of gain.
2690
5
(1) Some things are pleasant by nature, and of these (a) some
are so without qualification, and (b) others are so with reference
to particular classes either of animals or of men; while (2)
others are not pleasant by nature, but (a) some of them become
so by reason of injuries to the system, and (b) others by reason
of acquired habits, and (c) others by reason of originally bad
natures. This being so, it is possible with regard to each of the
latter kinds to discover similar states of character to those
recognized with regard to the former; I mean (A) the brutish
states, as in the case of the female who, they say, rips open
pregnant women and devours the infants, or of the things in
which some of the tribes about the Black Sea that have gone
savage are said to delight in raw meat or in human flesh, or in
lending their children to one another to feast upon or of the
story told of Phalaris.
These states are brutish, but (B) others arise as a result of
disease (or, in some cases, of madness, as with the man who
sacrificed and ate his mother, or with the slave who ate the liver
of his fellow), and others are morbid states (C) resulting from
custom, e.g. the habit of plucking out the hair or of gnawing the
nails, or even coals or earth, and in addition to these
paederasty; for these arise in some by nature and in others, as
in those who have been the victims of lust from childhood, from
habit.
Now those in whom nature is the cause of such a state no one
would call incontinent, any more than one would apply the
epithet to women because of the passive part they play in
copulation; nor would one apply it to those who are in a morbid
condition as a result of habit. To have these various types of
habit is beyond the limits of vice, as brutishness is too; for a
man who has them to master or be mastered by them is not
2691
2692
6
That incontinence in respect of anger is less disgraceful than
that in respect of the appetites is what we will now proceed to
see. (1) Anger seems to listen to argument to some extent, but to
mishear it, as do hasty servants who run out before they have
heard the whole of what one says, and then muddle the order,
or as dogs bark if there is but a knock at the door, before looking
to see if it is a friend; so anger by reason of the warmth and
hastiness of its nature, though it hears, does not hear an order,
and springs to take revenge. For argument or imagination
informs us that we have been insulted or slighted, and anger,
reasoning as it were that anything like this must be fought
against, boils up straightway; while appetite, if argument or
perception merely says that an object is pleasant, springs to the
enjoyment of it. Therefore anger obeys the argument in a sense,
but appetite does not. It is therefore more disgraceful; for the
man who is incontinent in respect of anger is in a sense
conquered by argument, while the other is conquered by
appetite and not by argument.
(2) Further, we pardon people more easily for following natural
desires, since we pardon them more easily for following such
appetites as are common to all men, and in so far as they are
common; now anger and bad temper are more natural than the
appetites for excess, i.e. for unnecessary objects. Take for
instance the man who defended himself on the charge of
striking his father by saying yes, but he struck his father, and
he struck his, and (pointing to his child) this boy will strike me
when he is a man; it runs in the family; or the man who when
he was being dragged along by his son bade him stop at the
doorway, since he himself had dragged his father only as far as
that.
2693
(2) Further, those who are more given to plotting against others
are more criminal. Now a passionate man is not given to
plotting, nor is anger itself it is open; but the nature of
appetite is illustrated by what the poets call Aphrodite, guileweaving daughter of Cyprus, and by Homers words about her
embroidered girdle:
And the whisper of wooing is there,
Whose subtlety stealeth the wits of the wise, how prudent
soeer. Therefore if this form of incontinence is more criminal
and disgraceful than that in respect of anger, it is both
incontinence without qualification and in a sense vice.
(4) Further, no one commits wanton outrage with a feeling of
pain, but every one who acts in anger acts with pain, while the
man who commits outrage acts with pleasure. If, then, those
acts at which it is most just to be angry are more criminal than
others, the incontinence which is due to appetite is the more
criminal; for there is no wanton outrage involved in anger.
Plainly, then, the incontinence concerned with appetite is more
disgraceful than that concerned with anger, and continence and
incontinence are concerned with bodily appetites and
pleasures; but we must grasp the differences among the latter
themselves. For, as has been said at the beginning, some are
human and natural both in kind and in magnitude, others are
brutish, and others are due to organic injuries and diseases.
Only with the first of these are temperance and self-indulgence
concerned; this is why we call the lower animals neither
temperate nor self-indulgent except by a metaphor, and only if
some one race of animals exceeds another as a whole in
wantonness, destructiveness, and omnivorous greed; these have
no power of choice or calculation, but they are departures from
the natural norm, as, among men, madmen are. Now
brutishness is a less evil than vice, though more alarming; for it
2694
is not that the better part has been perverted, as in man, they
have no better part. Thus it is like comparing a lifeless thing
with a living in respect of badness; for the badness of that
which has no originative source of movement is always less
hurtful, and reason is an originative source. Thus it is like
comparing injustice in the abstract with an unjust man. Each is
in some sense worse; for a bad man will do ten thousand times
as much evil as a brute.
7
With regard to the pleasures and pains and appetites and
aversions arising through touch and taste, to which both selfindulgence and temperance were formerly narrowed down, it
possible to be in such a state as to be defeated even by those of
them which most people master, or to master even those by
which most people are defeated; among these possibilities,
those relating to pleasures are incontinence and continence,
those relating to pains softness and endurance. The state of
most people is intermediate, even if they lean more towards the
worse states.
Now, since some pleasures are necessary while others are not,
and are necessary up to a point while the excesses of them are
not, nor the deficiencies, and this is equally true of appetites
and pains, the man who pursues the excesses of things
pleasant, or pursues to excess necessary objects, and does so by
choice, for their own sake and not at all for the sake of any
result distinct from them, is self-indulgent; for such a man is of
necessity unlikely to repent, and therefore incurable, since a
man who cannot repent cannot be cured. The man who is
deficient in his pursuit of them is the opposite of self-indulgent;
2695
8
The self-indulgent man, as was said, is not apt to repent; for he
stands by his choice; but incontinent man is likely to repent.
This is why the position is not as it was expressed in the
formulation of the problem, but the selfindulgent man is
incurable and the incontinent man curable; for wickedness is
like a disease such as dropsy or consumption, while
incontinence is like epilepsy; the former is a permanent, the
latter an intermittent badness. And generally incontinence and
2697
2698
9
Is the man continent who abides by any and every rule and any
and every choice, or the man who abides by the right choice,
and is he incontinent who abandons any and every choice and
any and every rule, or he who abandons the rule that is not
false and the choice that is right; this is how we put it before in
our statement of the problem. Or is it incidentally any and every
choice but per se the true rule and the right choice by which the
one abides and the other does not? If any one chooses or
pursues this for the sake of that, per se he pursues and chooses
the latter, but incidentally the former. But when we speak
without qualification we mean what is per se. Therefore in a
sense the one abides by, and the other abandons, any and every
opinion; but without qualification, the true opinion.
There are some who are apt to abide by their opinion, who are
called strong-headed, viz. those who are hard to persuade in the
first instance and are not easily persuaded to change; these
have in them something like the continent man, as the prodigal
is in a way like the liberal man and the rash man like the
confident man; but they are different in many respects. For it is
2699
to passion and appetite that the one will not yield, since on
occasion the continent man will be easy to persuade; but it is to
argument that the others refuse to yield, for they do form
appetites and many of them are led by their pleasures. Now the
people who are strong-headed are the opinionated, the
ignorant, and the boorish the opinionated being influenced by
pleasure and pain; for they delight in the victory they gain if
they are not persuaded to change, and are pained if their
decisions become null and void as decrees sometimes do; so
that they are liker the incontinent than the continent man.
But there are some who fail to abide by their resolutions, not as
a result of incontinence, e.g. Neoptolemus in Sophocles
Philoctetes; yet it was for the sake of pleasure that he did not
stand fast but a noble pleasure; for telling the truth was noble
to him, but he had been persuaded by Odysseus to tell the lie.
For not every one who does anything for the sake of pleasure is
either self-indulgent or bad or incontinent, but he who does it
for a disgraceful pleasure.
Since there is also a sort of man who takes less delight than he
should in bodily things, and does not abide by the rule, he who
is intermediate between him and the incontinent man is the
continent man; for the incontinent man fails to abide by the
rule because he delights too much in them, and this man
because he delights in them too little; while the continent man
abides by the rule and does not change on either account. Now
if continence is good, both the contrary states must be bad, as
they actually appear to be; but because the other extreme is
seen in few people and seldom, as temperance is thought to be
contrary only to self-indulgence, so is continence to
incontinence.
Since many names are applied analogically, it is by analogy that
we have come to speak of the continence the temperate man;
2700
for both the continent man and the temperate man are such as
to do nothing contrary to the rule for the sake of the bodily
pleasures, but the former has and the latter has not bad
appetites, and the latter is such as not to feel pleasure contrary
to the rule, while the former is such as to feel pleasure but not
to be led by it. And the incontinent and the self-indulgent man
are also like another; they are different, but both pursue bodily
pleasures the latter, however, also thinking that he ought to do
so, while the former does not think this.
10
Nor can the same man have practical wisdom and be
incontinent; for it has been shown that a man is at the same
time practically wise, and good in respect of character. Further,
a man has practical wisdom not by knowing only but by being
able to act; but the incontinent man is unable to act there is,
however, nothing to prevent a clever man from being
incontinent; this is why it is sometimes actually thought that
some people have practical wisdom but are incontinent, viz.
because cleverness and practical wisdom differ in the way we
have described in our first discussions, and are near together in
respect of their reasoning, but differ in respect of their purpose
nor yet is the incontinent man like the man who knows and is
contemplating a truth, but like the man who is asleep or drunk.
And he acts willingly (for he acts in a sense with knowledge
both of what he does and of the end to which he does it), but is
not wicked, since his purpose is good; so that he is half-wicked.
And he is not a criminal; for he does not act of malice
aforethought; of the two types of incontinent man the one does
not abide by the conclusions of his deliberation, while the
excitable man does not deliberate at all. And thus the
2701
incontinent man like a city which passes all the right decrees
and has good laws, but makes no use of them, as in
Anaxandrides jesting remark,
The city willed it, that cares nought for laws; but the wicked
man is like a city that uses its laws, but has wicked laws to use.
Now incontinence and continence are concerned with that
which is in excess of the state characteristic of most men; for
the continent man abides by his resolutions more and the
incontinent man less than most men can.
Of the forms of incontinence, that of excitable people is more
curable than that of those who deliberate but do not abide by
their decisions, and those who are incontinent through
habituation are more curable than those in whom incontinence
is innate; for it is easier to change a habit than to change ones
nature; even habit is hard to change just because it is like
nature, as Evenus says:
I say that habits but a long practice, friend,
And this becomes mens nature in the end.
We have now stated what continence, incontinence, endurance,
and softness are, and how these states are related to each other.
11
The study of pleasure and pain belongs to the province of the
political philosopher; for he is the architect of the end, with a
view to which we call one thing bad and another good without
qualification. Further, it is one of our necessary tasks to
consider them; for not only did we lay it down that moral virtue
2702
and vice are concerned with pains and pleasures, but most
people say that happiness involves pleasure; this is why the
blessed man is called by a name derived from a word meaning
enjoyment.
Now (1) some people think that no pleasure is a good, either in
itself or incidentally, since the good and pleasure are not the
same; (2) others think that some pleasures are good but that
most are bad. (3) Again there is a third view, that even if all
pleasures are good, yet the best thing in the world cannot be
pleasure. (1) The reasons given for the view that pleasure is not
a good at all are (a) that every pleasure is a perceptible process
to a natural state, and that no process is of the same kind as its
end, e.g. no process of building of the same kind as a house. (b)
A temperate man avoids pleasures. (c) A man of practical
wisdom pursues what is free from pain, not what is pleasant. (d)
The pleasures are a hindrance to thought, and the more so the
more one delights in them, e.g. in sexual pleasure; for no one
could think of anything while absorbed in this. (e) There is no
art of pleasure; but every good is the product of some art. (f)
Children and the brutes pursue pleasures. (2) The reasons for
the view that not all pleasures are good are that (a) there are
pleasures that are actually base and objects of reproach, and (b)
there are harmful pleasures; for some pleasant things are
unhealthy. (3) The reason for the view that the best thing in the
world is not pleasure is that pleasure is not an end but a
process.
12
These are pretty much the things that are said. That it does not
follow from these grounds that pleasure is not a good, or even
2703
the chief good, is plain from the following considerations. (A) (a)
First, since that which is good may be so in either of two senses
(one thing good simply and another good for a particular
person), natural constitutions and states of being, and therefore
also the corresponding movements and processes, will be
correspondingly divisible. Of those which are thought to be bad
some will be bad if taken without qualification but not bad for a
particular person, but worthy of his choice, and some will not be
worthy of choice even for a particular person, but only at a
particular time and for a short period, though not without
qualification; while others are not even pleasures, but seem to
be so, viz. all those which involve pain and whose end is
curative, e.g. the processes that go on in sick persons.
(b) Further, one kind of good being activity and another being
state, the processes that restore us to our natural state are only
incidentally pleasant; for that matter the activity at work in the
appetites for them is the activity of so much of our state and
nature as has remained unimpaired; for there are actually
pleasures that involve no pain or appetite (e.g. those of
contemplation), the nature in such a case not being defective at
all. That the others are incidental is indicated by the fact that
men do not enjoy the same pleasant objects when their nature
is in its settled state as they do when it is being replenished, but
in the former case they enjoy the things that are pleasant
without qualification, in the latter the contraries of these as
well; for then they enjoy even sharp and bitter things, none of
which is pleasant either by nature or without qualification. The
states they produce, therefore, are not pleasures naturally or
without qualification; for as pleasant things differ, so do the
pleasures arising from them.
(c) Again, it is not necessary that there should be something else
better than pleasure, as some say the end is better than the
process; for leasures are not processes nor do they all involve
2704
process they are activities and ends; nor do they arise when
we are becoming something, but when we are exercising some
faculty; and not all pleasures have an end different from
themselves, but only the pleasures of persons who are being led
to the perfecting of their nature. This is why it is not right to say
that pleasure is perceptible process, but it should rather be
called activity of the natural state, and instead of perceptible
unimpeded. It is thought by some people to be process just
because they think it is in the strict sense good; for they think
that activity is process, which it is not.
(B) The view that pleasures are bad because some pleasant
things are unhealthy is like saying that healthy things are bad
because some healthy things are bad for money-making; both
are bad in the respect mentioned, but they are not bad for that
reason indeed, thinking itself is sometimes injurious to health.
Neither practical wisdom nor any state of being is impeded by
the pleasure arising from it; it is foreign pleasures that impede,
for the pleasures arising from thinking and learning will make
us think and learn all the more.
(C) The fact that no pleasure is the product of any art arises
naturally enough; there is no art of any other activity either, but
only of the corresponding faculty; though for that matter the
arts of the perfumer and the cook are thought to be arts of
pleasure.
(D) The arguments based on the grounds that the temperate
man avoids pleasure and that the man of practical wisdom
pursues the painless life, and that children and the brutes
pursue pleasure, are all refuted by the same consideration. We
have pointed out in what sense pleasures are good without
qualification and in what sense some are not good; now both
the brutes and children pursue pleasures of the latter kind (and
the man of practical wisdom pursues tranquil freedom from
2705
that kind), viz. those which imply appetite and pain, i.e. the
bodily pleasures (for it is these that are of this nature) and the
excesses of them, in respect of which the self-indulgent man is
self-indulent. This is why the temperate man avoids these
pleasures; for even he has pleasures of his own.
13
But further (E) it is agreed that pain is bad and to be avoided; for
some pain is without qualification bad, and other pain is bad
because it is in some respect an impediment to us. Now the
contrary of that which is to be avoided, qua something to be
avoided and bad, is good. Pleasure, then, is necessarily a good.
For the answer of Speusippus, that pleasure is contrary both to
pain and to good, as the greater is contrary both to the less and
to the equal, is not successful; since he would not say that
pleasure is essentially just a species of evil.
And (F) if certain pleasures are bad, that does not prevent the
chief good from being some pleasure, just as the chief good may
be some form of knowledge though certain kinds of knowledge
are bad. Perhaps it is even necessary, if each disposition has
unimpeded activities, that, whether the activity (if unimpeded)
of all our dispositions or that of some one of them is happiness,
this should be the thing most worthy of our choice; and this
activity is pleasure. Thus the chief good would be some
pleasure, though most pleasures might perhaps be bad without
qualification. And for this reason all men think that the happy
life is pleasant and weave pleasure into their ideal of happiness
and reasonably too; for no activity is perfect when it is
impeded, and happiness is a perfect thing; this is why the
happy man needs the goods of the body and external goods, i.e.
2706
2707
14
(G) With regard to the bodily pleasures, those who say that some
pleasures are very much to be chosen, viz. the noble pleasures,
but not the bodily pleasures, i.e. those with which the selfindulgent man is concerned, must consider why, then, the
contrary pains are bad. For the contrary of bad is good. Are the
necessary pleasures good in the sense in which even that which
is not bad is good? Or are they good up to a point? Is it that
where you have states and processes of which there cannot be
too much, there cannot be too much of the corresponding
pleasure, and that where there can be too much of the one there
can be too much of the other also? Now there can be too much
of bodily goods, and the bad man is bad by virtue of pursuing
the excess, not by virtue of pursuing the necessary pleasures
(for all men enjoy in some way or other both dainty foods and
wines and sexual intercourse, but not all men do so as they
ought). The contrary is the case with pain; for he does not avoid
the excess of it, he avoids it altogether; and this is peculiar to
him, for the alternative to excess of pleasure is not pain, except
to the man who pursues this excess.
Since we should state not only the truth, but also the cause of
error for this contributes towards producing conviction, since
when a reasonable explanation is given of why the false view
appears true, this tends to produce belief in the true view
therefore we must state why the bodily pleasures appear the
more worthy of choice. (a) Firstly, then, it is because they expel
pain; owing to the excesses of pain that men experience, they
pursue excessive and in general bodily pleasure as being a cure
for the pain. Now curative agencies produce intense feeling
which is the reason why they are pursued because they show
up against the contrary pain. (Indeed pleasure is thought not to
be good for these two reasons, as has been said, viz. that (a)
some of them are activities belonging to a bad nature either
2708
Book VIII
1
After what we have said, a discussion of friendship would
naturally follow, since it is a virtue or implies virtue, and is
besides most necessary with a view to living. For without
friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other
goods; even rich men and those in possession of office and of
dominating power are thought to need friends most of all; for
what is the use of such prosperity without the opportunity of
beneficence, which is exercised chiefly and in its most laudable
form towards friends? Or how can prosperity be guarded and
preserved without friends? The greater it is, the more exposed is
2710
2711
expresses the opposite view that like aims at like. The physical
problems we may leave alone (for they do not belong to the
present inquiry); let us examine those which are human and
involve character and feeling, e.g. whether friendship can arise
between any two people or people cannot be friends if they are
wicked, and whether there is one species of friendship or more
than one. Those who think there is only one because it admits
of degrees have relied on an inadequate indication; for even
things different in species admit of degree. We have discussed
this matter previously.
2
The kinds of friendship may perhaps be cleared up if we first
come to know the object of love. For not everything seems to be
loved but only the lovable, and this is good, pleasant, or useful;
but it would seem to be that by which some good or pleasure is
produced that is useful, so that it is the good and the useful that
are lovable as ends. Do men love, then, the good, or what is good
for them? These sometimes clash. So too with regard to the
pleasant. Now it is thought that each loves what is good for
himself, and that the good is without qualification lovable, and
what is good for each man is lovable for him; but each man
loves not what is good for him but what seems good. This
however will make no difference; we shall just have to say that
this is that which seems lovable. Now there are three grounds
on which people love; of the love of lifeless objects we do not
use the word friendship; for it is not mutual love, nor is there a
wishing of good to the other (for it would surely be ridiculous to
wish wine well; if one wishes anything for it, it is that it may
keep, so that one may have it oneself); but to a friend we say we
ought to wish what is good for his sake. But to those who thus
2712
3
Now these reasons differ from each other in kind; so, therefore,
do the corresponding forms of love and friendship. There are
therefore three kinds of friendship, equal in number to the
things that are lovable; for with respect to each there is a
mutual and recognized love, and those who love each other
wish well to each other in that respect in which they love one
another. Now those who love each other for their utility do not
love each other for themselves but in virtue of some good which
they get from each other. So too with those who love for the
sake of pleasure; it is not for their character that men love
ready-witted people, but because they find them pleasant.
Therefore those who love for the sake of utility love for the sake
of what is good for themselves, and those who love for the sake
of pleasure do so for the sake of what is pleasant to themselves,
and not in so far as the other is the person loved but in so far as
he is useful or pleasant. And thus these friendships are only
incidental; for it is not as being the man he is that the loved
person is loved, but as providing some good or pleasure. Such
friendships, then, are easily dissolved, if the parties do not
2713
2714
2715
4
This kind of friendship, then, is perfect both in respect of
duration and in all other respects, and in it each gets from each
in all respects the same as, or something like what, he gives;
which is what ought to happen between friends. Friendship for
the sake of pleasure bears a resemblance to this kind; for good
people too are pleasant to each other. So too does friendship for
the sake of utility; for the good are also useful to each other.
Among men of these inferior sorts too, friendships are most
permanent when the friends get the same thing from each
other (e.g. pleasure), and not only that but also from the same
source, as happens between readywitted people, not as happens
between lover and beloved. For these do not take pleasure in the
same things, but the one in seeing the beloved and the other in
receiving attentions from his lover; and when the bloom of
youth is passing the friendship sometimes passes too (for the
one finds no pleasure in the sight of the other, and the other
gets no attentions from the first); but many lovers on the other
hand are constant, if familiarity has led them to love each
others characters, these being alike. But those who exchange
not pleasure but utility in their amour are both less truly friends
and less constant. Those who are friends for the sake of utility
part when the advantage is at an end; for they were lovers not
of each other but of profit.
For the sake of pleasure or utility, then, even bad men may be
friends of each other, or good men of bad, or one who is neither
good nor bad may be a friend to any sort of person, but for their
own sake clearly only good men can be friends; for bad men do
not delight in each other unless some advantage come of the
relation.
The friendship of the good too and this alone is proof against
slander; for it is not easy to trust any one talk about a man who
2716
has long been tested by oneself; and it is among good men that
trust and the feeling that he would never wrong me and all the
other things that are demanded in true friendship are found. In
the other kinds of friendship, however, there is nothing to
prevent these evils arising. For men apply the name of friends
even to those whose motive is utility, in which sense states are
said to be friendly (for the alliances of states seem to aim at
advantage), and to those who love each other for the sake of
pleasure, in which sense children are called friends. Therefore
we too ought perhaps to call such people friends, and say that
there are several kinds of friendship firstly and in the proper
sense that of good men qua good, and by analogy the other
kinds; for it is in virtue of something good and something akin
to what is found in true friendship that they are friends, since
even the pleasant is good for the lovers of pleasure. But these
two kinds of friendship are not often united, nor do the same
people become friends for the sake of utility and of pleasure; for
things that are only incidentally connected are not often
coupled together.
Friendship being divided into these kinds, bad men will be
friends for the sake of pleasure or of utility, being in this respect
like each other, but good men will be friends for their own sake,
i.e. in virtue of their goodness. These, then, are friends without
qualification; the others are friends incidentally and through a
resemblance to these.
5
As in regard to the virtues some men are called good in respect
of a state of character, others in respect of an activity, so too in
the case of friendship; for those who live together delight in
2717
each other and confer benefits on each other, but those who are
asleep or locally separated are not performing, but are disposed
to perform, the activities of friendship; distance does not break
off the friendship absolutely, but only the activity of it. But if the
absence is lasting, it seems actually to make men forget their
friendship; hence the saying out of sight, out of mind. Neither
old people nor sour people seem to make friends easily; for
there is little that is pleasant in them, and no one can spend his
days with one whose company is painful, or not pleasant, since
nature seems above all to avoid the painful and to aim at the
pleasant. Those, however, who approve of each other but do not
live together seem to be well-disposed rather than actual
friends. For there is nothing so characteristic of friends as living
together (since while it people who are in need that desire
benefits, even those who are supremely happy desire to spend
their days together; for solitude suits such people least of all);
but people cannot live together if they are not pleasant and do
not enjoy the same things, as friends who are companions seem
to do.
The truest friendship, then, is that of the good, as we have
frequently said; for that which is without qualification good or
pleasant seems to be lovable and desirable, and for each person
that which is good or pleasant to him; and the good man is
lovable and desirable to the good man for both these reasons.
Now it looks as if love were a feeling, friendship a state of
character; for love may be felt just as much towards lifeless
things, but mutual love involves choice and choice springs from
a state of character; and men wish well to those whom they
love, for their sake, not as a result of feeling but as a result of a
state of character. And in loving a friend men love what is good
for themselves; for the good man in becoming a friend becomes
a good to his friend. Each, then, both loves what is good for
himself, and makes an equal return in goodwill and in
2718
6
Between sour and elderly people friendship arises less readily,
inasmuch as they are less good-tempered and enjoy
companionship less; for these are thou to be the greatest marks
of friendship productive of it. This is why, while men become
friends quickly, old men do not; it is because men do not
become friends with those in whom they do not delight; and
similarly sour people do not quickly make friends either. But
such men may bear goodwill to each other; for they wish one
another well and aid one another in need; but they are hardly
friends because they do not spend their days together nor
delight in each other, and these are thought the greatest marks
of friendship.
One cannot be a friend to many people in the sense of having
friendship of the perfect type with them, just as one cannot be
in love with many people at once (for love is a sort of excess of
feeling, and it is the nature of such only to be felt towards one
person); and it is not easy for many people at the same time to
please the same person very greatly, or perhaps even to be good
in his eyes. One must, too, acquire some experience of the other
person and become familiar with him, and that is very hard. But
with a view to utility or pleasure it is possible that many people
should please one; for many people are useful or pleasant, and
these services take little time.
Of these two kinds that which is for the sake of pleasure is the
more like friendship, when both parties get the same things
from each other and delight in each other or in the things, as in
2719
2720
7
But there is another kind of friendship, viz. that which involves
an inequality between the parties, e.g. that of father to son and
in general of elder to younger, that of man to wife and in
general that of ruler to subject. And these friendships differ also
from each other; for it is not the same that exists between
parents and children and between rulers and subjects, nor is
even that of father to son the same as that of son to father, nor
that of husband to wife the same as that of wife to husband. For
the virtue and the function of each of these is different, and so
are the reasons for which they love; the love and the friendship
are therefore different also. Each party, then, neither gets the
same from the other, nor ought to seek it; but when children
render to parents what they ought to render to those who
brought them into the world, and parents render what they
should to their children, the friendship of such persons will be
abiding and excellent. In all friendships implying inequality the
love also should be proportional, i.e. the better should be more
loved than he loves, and so should the more useful, and
similarly in each of the other cases; for when the love is in
proportion to the merit of the parties, then in a sense arises
2721
2722
8
Most people seem, owing to ambition, to wish to be loved rather
than to love; which is why most men love flattery; for the
flatterer is a friend in an inferior position, or pretends to be such
and to love more than he is loved; and being loved seems to be
akin to being honoured, and this is what most people aim at.
But it seems to be not for its own sake that people choose
honour, but incidentally. For most people enjoy being honoured
by those in positions of authority because of their hopes (for
they think that if they want anything they will get it from them;
and therefore they delight in honour as a token of favour to
come); while those who desire honour from good men, and men
who know, are aiming at confirming their own opinion of
themselves; they delight in honour, therefore, because they
believe in their own goodness on the strength of the judgement
of those who speak about them. In being loved, on the other
hand, people delight for its own sake; whence it would seem to
be better than being honoured, and friendship to be desirable in
itself. But it seems to lie in loving rather than in being loved, as
is indicated by the delight mothers take in loving; for some
mothers hand over their children to be brought up, and so long
as they know their fate they love them and do not seek to be
loved in return (if they cannot have both), but seem to be
satisfied if they see them prospering; and they themselves love
their children even if these owing to their ignorance give them
nothing of a mothers due. Now since friendship depends more
on loving, and it is those who love their friends that are praised,
loving seems to be the characteristic virtue of friends, so that it
is only those in whom this is found in due measure that are
lasting friends, and only their friendship that endures.
It is in this way more than any other that even unequals can be
friends; they can be equalized. Now equality and likeness are
friendship, and especially the likeness of those who are like in
2723
9
Friendship and justice seem, as we have said at the outset of
our discussion, to be concerned with the same objects and
exhibited between the same persons. For in every community
there is thought to be some form of justice, and friendship too;
at least men address as friends their fellow-voyagers and
2724
10
There are three kinds of constitution, and an equal number of
deviation-forms perversions, as it were, of them. The
constitutions are monarchy, aristocracy, and thirdly that which
is based on a property qualification, which it seems appropriate
to call timocratic, though most people are wont to call it polity.
The best of these is monarchy, the worst timocracy. The
deviation from monarchy is tyrany; for both are forms of oneman rule, but there is the greatest difference between them; the
tyrant looks to his own advantage, the king to that of his
subjects. For a man is not a king unless he is sufficient to
himself and excels his subjects in all good things; and such a
man needs nothing further; therefore he will not look to his
own interests but to those of his subjects; for a king who is not
like that would be a mere titular king. Now tyranny is the very
2726
11
Each of the constitutions may be seen to involve friendship just
in so far as it involves justice. The friendship between a king
and his subjects depends on an excess of benefits conferred; for
he confers benefits on his subjects if being a good man he cares
for them with a view to their well-being, as a shepherd does for
his sheep (whence Homer called Agamemnon shepherd of the
peoples). Such too is the friendship of a father, though this
exceeds the other in the greatness of the benefits conferred; for
he is responsible for the existence of his children, which is
thought the greatest good, and for their nurture and upbringing.
These things are ascribed to ancestors as well. Further, by
nature a father tends to rule over his sons, ancestors over
descendants, a king over his subjects. These friendships imply
superiority of one party over the other, which is why ancestors
are honoured. The justice therefore that exists between persons
so related is not the same on both sides but is in every case
proportioned to merit; for that is true of the friendship as well.
The friendship of man and wife, again, is the same that is found
in an aristocracy; for it is in accordance with virtue the better
2728
gets more of what is good, and each gets what befits him; and
so, too, with the justice in these relations. The friendship of
brothers is like that of comrades; for they are equal and of like
age, and such persons are for the most part like in their feelings
and their character. Like this, too, is the friendship appropriate
to timocratic government; for in such a constitution the ideal is
for the citizens to be equal and fair; therefore rule is taken in
turn, and on equal terms; and the friendship appropriate here
will correspond.
But in the deviation-forms, as justice hardly exists, so too does
friendship. It exists least in the worst form; in tyranny there is
little or no friendship. For where there is nothing common to
ruler and ruled, there is not friendship either, since there is not
justice; e.g. between craftsman and tool, soul and body, master
and slave; the latter in each case is benefited by that which uses
it, but there is no friendship nor justice towards lifeless things.
But neither is there friendship towards a horse or an ox, nor to a
slave qua slave. For there is nothing common to the two parties;
the slave is a living tool and the tool a lifeless slave. Qua slave
then, one cannot be friends with him. But qua man one can; for
there seems to be some justice between any man and any other
who can share in a system of law or be a party to an agreement;
therefore there can also be friendship with him in so far as he is
a man. Therefore while in tyrannies friendship and justice
hardly exist, in democracies they exist more fully; for where the
citizens are equal they have much in common.
12
Every form of friendship, then, involves association, as has been
said. One might, however, mark off from the rest both the
2729
friendship of kindred and that of comrades. Those of fellowcitizens, fellow-tribesmen, fellow-voyagers, and the like are
more like mere friendships of association; for they seem to rest
on a sort of compact. With them we might class the friendship
of host and guest. The friendship of kinsmen itself, while it
seems to be of many kinds, appears to depend in every case on
parental friendship; for parents love their children as being a
part of themselves, and children their parents as being
something originating from them. Now (1) arents know their
offspring better than there children know that they are their
children, and (2) the originator feels his offspring to be his own
more than the offspring do their begetter; for the product
belongs to the producer (e.g. a tooth or hair or anything else to
him whose it is), but the producer does not belong to the
product, or belongs in a less degree. And (3) the length of time
produces the same result; parents love their children as soon as
these are born, but children love their parents only after time
has elapsed and they have acquired understanding or the power
of discrimination by the senses. From these considerations it is
also plain why mothers love more than fathers do. Parents,
then, love their children as themselves (for their issue are by
virtue of their separate existence a sort of other selves), while
children love their parents as being born of them, and brothers
love each other as being born of the same parents; for their
identity with them makes them identical with each other
(which is the reason why people talk of the same blood, the
same stock, and so on). They are, therefore, in a sense the same
thing, though in separate individuals. Two things that contribute
greatly to friendship are a common upbringing and similarity of
age; for two of an age take to each other, and people brought
up together tend to be comrades; whence the friendship of
brothers is akin to that of comrades. And cousins and other
kinsmen are bound up together by derivation from brothers, viz.
by being derived from the same parents. They come to be closer
2730
2731
13
There are three kinds of friendship, as we said at the outset of
our inquiry, and in respect of each some are friends on an
equality and others by virtue of a superiority (for not only can
equally good men become friends but a better man can make
friends with a worse, and similarly in friendships of pleasure or
utility the friends may be equal or unequal in the benefits they
confer). This being so, equals must effect the required
equalization on a basis of equality in love and in all other
respects, while unequals must render what is in proportion to
their superiority or inferiority. Complaints and reproaches arise
either only or chiefly in the friendship of utility, and this is only
to be expected. For those who are friends on the ground of
virtue are anxious to do well by each other (since that is a mark
of virtue and of friendship), and between men who are
emulating each other in this there cannot be complaints or
quarrels; no one is offended by a man who loves him and does
well by him if he is a person of nice feeling he takes his
revenge by doing well by the other. And the man who excels the
other in the services he renders will not complain of his friend,
since he gets what he aims at; for each man desires what is
good. Nor do complaints arise much even in friendships of
2732
pleasure; for both get at the same time what they desire, if they
enjoy spending their time together; and even a man who
complained of another for not affording him pleasure would
seem ridiculous, since it is in his power not to spend his days
with him.
But the friendship of utility is full of complaints; for as they use
each other for their own interests they always want to get the
better of the bargain, and think they have got less than they
should, and blame their partners because they do not get all
they want and deserve; and those who do well by others
cannot help them as much as those whom they benefit want.
Now it seems that, as justice is of two kinds, one unwritten and
the other legal, one kind of friendship of utility is moral and the
other legal. And so complaints arise most of all when men do
not dissolve the relation in the spirit of the same type of
friendship in which they contracted it. The legal type is that
which is on fixed terms; its purely commercial variety is on the
basis of immediate payment, while the more liberal variety
allows time but stipulates for a definite quid pro quo. In this
variety the debt is clear and not ambiguous, but in the
postponement it contains an element of friendliness; and so
some states do not allow suits arising out of such agreements,
but think men who have bargained on a basis of credit ought to
accept the consequences. The moral type is not on fixed terms;
it makes a gift, or does whatever it does, as to a friend; but one
expects to receive as much or more, as having not given but
lent; and if a man is worse off when the relation is dissolved
than he was when it was contracted he will complain. This
happens because all or most men, while they wish for what is
noble, choose what is advantageous; now it is noble to do well
by another without a view to repayment, but it is the receiving
of benefits that is advantageous. Therefore if we can we should
return the equivalent of what we have received (for we must not
2733
make a man our friend against his will; we must recognize that
we were mistaken at the first and took a benefit from a person
we should not have taken it from since it was not from a
friend, nor from one who did it just for the sake of acting so
and we must settle up just as if we had been benefited on fixed
terms). Indeed, one would agree to repay if one could (if one
could not, even the giver would not have expected one to do so);
therefore if it is possible we must repay. But at the outset we
must consider the man by whom we are being benefited and on
what terms he is acting, in order that we may accept the benefit
on these terms, or else decline it.
It is disputable whether we ought to measure a service by its
utility to the receiver and make the return with a view to that,
or by the benevolence of the giver. For those who have received
say they have received from their benefactors what meant little
to the latter and what they might have got from others
minimizing the service; while the givers, on the contrary, say it
was the biggest thing they had, and what could not have been
got from others, and that it was given in times of danger or
similar need. Now if the friendship is one that aims at utility,
surely the advantage to the receiver is the measure. For it is he
that asks for the service, and the other man helps him on the
assumption that he will receive the equivalent; so the
assistance has been precisely as great as the advantage to the
receiver, and therefore he must return as much as he has
received, or even more (for that would be nobler). In friendships
based on virtue on the other hand, complaints do not arise, but
the purpose of the doer is a sort of measure; for in purpose lies
the essential element of virtue and character.
2734
14
Differences arise also in friendships based on superiority; for
each expects to get more out of them, but when this happens
the friendship is dissolved. Not only does the better man think
he ought to get more, since more should be assigned to a good
man, but the more useful similarly expects this; they say a
useless man should not get as much as they should, since it
becomes an act of public service and not a friendship if the
proceeds of the friendship do not answer to the worth of the
benefits conferred. For they think that, as in a commercial
partnership those who put more in get more out, so it should be
in friendship. But the man who is in a state of need and
inferiority makes the opposite claim; they think it is the part of
a good friend to help those who are in need; what, they say, is
the use of being the friend of a good man or a powerful man, if
one is to get nothing out of it?
At all events it seems that each party is justified in his claim,
and that each should get more out of the friendship than the
other not more of the same thing, however, but the superior
more honour and the inferior more gain; for honour is the prize
of virtue and of beneficence, while gain is the assistance
required by inferiority.
It seems to be so in constitutional arrangements also; the man
who contributes nothing good to the common stock is not
honoured; for what belongs to the public is given to the man
who benefits the public, and honour does belong to the public.
It is not possible to get wealth from the common stock and at
the same time honour. For no one puts up with the smaller
share in all things; therefore to the man who loses in wealth
they assign honour and to the man who is willing to be paid,
wealth, since the proportion to merit equalizes the parties and
preserves the friendship, as we have said. This then is also the
2735
Book IX
1
In all friendships between dissimilars it is, as we have said,
proportion that equalizes the parties and preserves the
2736
2738
2
A further problem is set by such questions as, whether one
should in all things give the preference to ones father and obey
him, or whether when one is ill one should trust a doctor, and
when one has to elect a general should elect a man of military
skill; and similarly whether one should render a service by
preference to a friend or to a good man, and should show
gratitude to a benefactor or oblige a friend, if one cannot do
both.
All such questions are hard, are they not, to decide with
precision? For they admit of many variations of all sorts in
respect both of the magnitude of the service and of its nobility
necessity. But that we should not give the preference in all
things to the same person is plain enough; and we must for the
most part return benefits rather than oblige friends, as we must
pay back a loan to a creditor rather than make one to a friend.
But perhaps even this is not always true; e.g. should a man who
has been ransomed out of the hands of brigands ransom his
2739
every honour; for that matter one should not give the same
honour to ones father and ones mother, nor again should one
give them the honour due to a philosopher or to a general, but
the honour due to a father, or again to a mother. To all older
persons, too, one should give honour appropriate to their age, by
rising to receive them and finding seats for them and so on;
while to comrades and brothers one should allow freedom of
speech and common use of all things. To kinsmen, too, and
fellow-tribesmen and fellow-citizens and to every other class
one should always try to assign what is appropriate, and to
compare the claims of each class with respect to nearness of
relation and to virtue or usefulness. The comparison is easier
when the persons belong to the same class, and more laborious
when they are different. Yet we must not on that account shrink
from the task, but decide the question as best we can.
3
Another question that arises is whether friendships should or
should not be broken off when the other party does not remain
the same. Perhaps we may say that there is nothing strange in
breaking off a friendship based on utility or pleasure, when our
friends no longer have these attributes. For it was of these
attributes that we were the friends; and when these have failed
it is reasonable to love no longer. But one might complain of
another if, when he loved us for our usefulness or pleasantness,
he pretended to love us for our character. For, as we said at the
outset, most differences arise between friends when they are
not friends in the spirit in which they think they are. So when a
man has deceived himself and has thought he was being loved
for his character, when the other person was doing nothing of
the kind, he must blame himself; when he has been deceived by
2741
2742
4
Friendly relations with ones neighbours, and the marks by
which friendships are defined, seem to have proceeded from a
mans relations to himself. For (1) we define a friend as one who
wishes and does what is good, or seems so, for the sake of his
friend, or (2) as one who wishes his friend to exist and live, for
his sake; which mothers do to their children, and friends do
who have come into conflict. And (3) others define him as one
who lives with and (4) has the same tastes as another, or (5) one
who grieves and rejoices with his friend; and this too is found in
mothers most of all. It is by some one of these characterstics
that friendship too is defined.
Now each of these is true of the good mans relation to himself
(and of all other men in so far as they think themselves good;
virtue and the good man seem, as has been said, to be the
measure of every class of things). For his opinions are
harmonious, and he desires the same things with all his soul;
and therefore he wishes for himself what is good and what
seems so, and does it (for it is characteristic of the good man to
work out the good), and does so for his own sake (for he does it
for the sake of the intellectual element in him, which is thought
to be the man himself); and he wishes himself to live and be
2743
2744
some things and rational desires for others. This is true, for
instance, of incontinent people; for they choose, instead of the
things they themselves think good, things that are pleasant but
hurtful; while others again, through cowardice and laziness,
shrink from doing what they think best for themselves. And
those who have done many terrible deeds and are hated for
their wickedness even shrink from life and destroy themselves.
And wicked men seek for people with whom to spend their
days, and shun themselves; for they remember many a grevious
deed, and anticipate others like them, when they are by
themselves, but when they are with others they forget. And
having nothing lovable in them they have no feeling of love to
themselves. Therefore also such men do not rejoice or grieve
with themselves; for their soul is rent by faction, and one
element in it by reason of its wickedness grieves when it
abstains from certain acts, while the other part is pleased, and
one draws them this way and the other that, as if they were
pulling them in pieces. If a man cannot at the same time be
pained and pleased, at all events after a short time he is pained
because he was pleased, and he could have wished that these
things had not been pleasant to him; for bad men are laden
with repentance.
Therefore the bad man does not seem to be amicably disposed
even to himself, because there is nothing in him to love; so that
if to be thus is the height of wretchedness, we should strain
every nerve to avoid wickedness and should endeavour to be
good; for so and only so can one be either friendly to oneself or
a friend to another.
2745
5
Goodwill is a friendly sort of relation, but is not identical with
friendship; for one may have goodwill both towards people
whom one does not know, and without their knowing it, but not
friendship. This has indeed been said already. But goodwill is
not even friendly feeling. For it does not involve intensity or
desire, whereas these accompany friendly feeling; and friendly
feeling implies intimacy while goodwill may arise of a sudden,
as it does towards competitors in a contest; we come to feel
goodwill for them and to share in their wishes, but we would
not do anything with them; for, as we said, we feel goodwill
suddenly and love them only superficially.
Goodwill seems, then, to be a beginning of friendship, as the
pleasure of the eye is the beginning of love. For no one loves if
he has not first been delighted by the form of the beloved, but
he who delights in the form of another does not, for all that,
love him, but only does so when he also longs for him when
absent and craves for his presence; so too it is not possible for
people to be friends if they have not come to feel goodwill for
each other, but those who feel goodwill are not for all that
friends; for they only wish well to those for whom they feel
goodwill, and would not do anything with them nor take trouble
for them. And so one might by an extension of the term
friendship say that goodwill is inactive friendship, though when
it is prolonged and reaches the point of intimacy it becomes
friendship not the friendship based on utility nor that based
on pleasure; for goodwill too does not arise on those terms. The
man who has received a benefit bestows goodwill in return for
what has been done to him, but in doing so is only doing what
is just; while he who wishes some one to prosper because he
hopes for enrichment through him seems to have goodwill not
to him but rather to himself, just as a man is not a friend to
another if he cherishes him for the sake of some use to be made
2746
6
Unanimity also seems to be a friendly relation. For this reason it
is not identity of opinion; for that might occur even with people
who do not know each other; nor do we say that people who
have the same views on any and every subject are unanimous,
e.g. those who agree about the heavenly bodies (for unanimity
about these is not a friendly relation), but we do say that a city
is unanimous when men have the same opinion about what is
to their interest, and choose the same actions, and do what they
have resolved in common. It is about things to be done,
therefore, that people are said to be unanimous, and, among
these, about matters of consequence and in which it is possible
for both or all parties to get what they want; e.g. a city is
unanimous when all its citizens think that the offices in it
should be elective, or that they should form an alliance with
Sparta, or that Pittacus should be their ruler at a time when he
himself was also willing to rule. But when each of two people
wishes himself to have the thing in question, like the captains
in the Phoenissae, they are in a state of faction; for it is not
unanimity when each of two parties thinks of the same thing,
whatever that may be, but only when they think of the same
thing in the same hands, e.g. when both the common people
and those of the better class wish the best men to rule; for thus
and thus alone do all get what they aim at. Unanimity seems,
then, to be political friendship, as indeed it is commonly said to
2747
be; for it is concerned with things that are to our interest and
have an influence on our life.
Now such unanimity is found among good men; for they are
unanimous both in themselves and with one another, being, so
to say, of one mind (for the wishes of such men are constant
and not at the mercy of opposing currents like a strait of the
sea), and they wish for what is just and what is advantageous,
and these are the objects of their common endeavour as well.
But bad men cannot be unanimous except to a small extent,
any more than they can be friends, since they aim at getting
more than their share of advantages, while in labour and public
service they fall short of their share; and each man wishing for
advantage to himself criticizes his neighbour and stands in his
way; for if people do not watch it carefully the common weal is
soon destroyed. The result is that they are in a state of faction,
putting compulsion on each other but unwilling themselves to
do what is just.
7
Benefactors are thought to love those they have benefited, more
than those who have been well treated love those that have
treated them well, and this is discussed as though it were
paradoxical. Most people think it is because the latter are in the
position of debtors and the former of creditors; and therefore as,
in the case of loans, debtors wish their creditors did not exist,
while creditors actually take care of the safety of their debtors,
so it is thought that benefactors wish the objects of their action
to exist since they will then get their gratitude, while the
beneficiaries take no interest in making this return. Epicharmus
would perhaps declare that they say this because they look at
2748
things on their bad side, but it is quite like human nature; for
most people are forgetful, and are more anxious to be well
treated than to treat others well. But the cause would seem to
be more deeply rooted in the nature of things; the case of those
who have lent money is not even analogous. For they have no
friendly feeling to their debtors, but only a wish that they may
kept safe with a view to what is to be got from them; while
those who have done a service to others feel friendship and love
for those they have served even if these are not of any use to
them and never will be. This is what happens with craftsmen
too; every man loves his own handiwork better than he would
be loved by it if it came alive; and this happens perhaps most of
all with poets; for they have an excessive love for their own
poems, doting on them as if they were their children. This is
what the position of benefactors is like; for that which they
have treated well is their handiwork, and therefore they love
this more than the handiwork does its maker. The cause of this
is that existence is to all men a thing to be chosen and loved,
and that we exist by virtue of activity (i.e. by living and acting),
and that the handiwork is in a sense, the producer in activity;
he loves his handiwork, therefore, because he loves existence.
And this is rooted in the nature of things; for what he is in
potentiality, his handiwork manifests in activity.
At the same time to the benefactor that is noble which depends
on his action, so that he delights in the object of his action,
whereas to the patient there is nothing noble in the agent, but
at most something advantageous, and this is less pleasant and
lovable. What is pleasant is the activity of the present, the hope
of the future, the memory of the past; but most pleasant is that
which depends on activity, and similarly this is most lovable.
Now for a man who has made something his work remains (for
the noble is lasting), but for the person acted on the utility
passes away. And the memory of noble things is pleasant, but
2749
8
The question is also debated, whether a man should love
himself most, or some one else. People criticize those who love
themselves most, and call them self-lovers, using this as an
epithet of disgrace, and a bad man seems to do everything for
his own sake, and the more so the more wicked he is and so
men reproach him, for instance, with doing nothing of his own
accord while the good man acts for honours sake, and the
more so the better he is, and acts for his friends sake, and
sacrifices his own interest.
But the facts clash with these arguments, and this is not
surprising. For men say that one ought to love best ones best
friend, and mans best friend is one who wishes well to the
object of his wish for his sake, even if no one is to know of it;
and these attributes are found most of all in a mans attitude
2750
2751
But such a man would seem more than the other a lover of self;
at all events he assigns to himself the things that are noblest
and best, and gratifies the most authoritative element in and in
all things obeys this; and just as a city or any other systematic
whole is most properly identified with the most authoritative
element in it, so is a man; and therefore the man who loves this
and gratifies it is most of all a lover of self. Besides, a man is
said to have or not to have self-control according as his reason
has or has not the control, on the assumption that this is the
man himself; and the things men have done on a rational
principle are thought most properly their own acts and
voluntary acts. That this is the man himself, then, or is so more
than anything else, is plain, and also that the good man loves
most this part of him. Whence it follows that he is most truly a
lover of self, of another type than that which is a matter of
reproach, and as different from that as living according to a
rational principle is from living as passion dictates, and desiring
what is noble from desiring what seems advantageous. Those,
then, who busy themselves in an exceptional degree with noble
actions all men approve and praise; and if all were to strive
towards what is noble and strain every nerve to do the noblest
deeds, everything would be as it should be for the common
weal, and every one would secure for himself the goods that are
greatest, since virtue is the greatest of goods.
Therefore the good man should be a lover of self (for he will
both himself profit by doing noble acts, and will benefit his
fellows), but the wicked man should not; for he will hurt both
himself and his neighbours, following as he does evil passions.
For the wicked man, what he does clashes with what he ought
to do, but what the good man ought to do he does; for reason in
each of its possessors chooses what is best for itself, and the
good man obeys his reason. It is true of the good man too that
he does many acts for the sake of his friends and his country,
and if necessary dies for them; for he will throw away both
2752
wealth and honours and in general the goods that are objects of
competition, gaining for himself nobility; since he would prefer
a short period of intense pleasure to a long one of mild
enjoyment, a twelvemonth of noble life to many years of
humdrum existence, and one great and noble action to many
trivial ones. Now those who die for others doubtless attain this
result; it is therefore a great prize that they choose for
themselves. They will throw away wealth too on condition that
their friends will gain more; for while a mans friend gains
wealth he himself achieves nobility; he is therefore assigning
the greater good to himself. The same too is true of honour and
office; all these things he will sacrifice to his friend; for this is
noble and laudable for himself. Rightly then is he thought to be
good, since he chooses nobility before all else. But he may even
give up actions to his friend; it may be nobler to become the
cause of his friends acting than to act himself. In all the
actions, therefore, that men are praised for, the good man is
seen to assign to himself the greater share in what is noble. In
this sense, then, as has been said, a man should be a lover of
self; but in the sense in which most men are so, he ought not.
9
It is also disputed whether the happy man will need friends or
not. It is said that those who are supremely happy and selfsufficient have no need of friends; for they have the things that
are good, and therefore being self-sufficient they need nothing
further, while a friend, being another self, furnishes what a man
cannot provide by his own effort; whence the saying when
fortune is kind, what need of friends? But it seems strange,
when one assigns all good things to the happy man, not to
assign friends, who are thought the greatest of external goods.
2753
2754
our own, and if the actions of virtuous men who are their
friends are pleasant to good men (since these have both the
attributes that are naturally pleasant), if this be so, the
supremely happy man will need friends of this sort, since his
purpose is to contemplate worthy actions and actions that are
his own, and the actions of a good man who is his friend have
both these qualities.
Further, men think that the happy man ought to live pleasantly.
Now if he were a solitary, life would be hard for him; for by
oneself it is not easy to be continuously active; but with others
and towards others it is easier. With others therefore his activity
will be more continuous, and it is in itself pleasant, as it ought
to be for the man who is supremely happy; for a good man qua
good delights in virtuous actions and is vexed at vicious ones,
as a musical man enjoys beautiful tunes but is pained at bad
ones. A certain training in virtue arises also from the company
of the good, as Theognis has said before us.
If we look deeper into the nature of things, a virtuous friend
seems to be naturally desirable for a virtuous man. For that
which is good by nature, we have said, is for the virtuous man
good and pleasant in itself. Now life is defined in the case of
animals by the power of perception in that of man by the power
of perception or thought; and a power is defined by reference to
the corresponding activity, which is the essential thing;
therefore life seems to be essentially the act of perceiving or
thinking. And life is among the things that are good and
pleasant in themselves, since it is determinate and the
determinate is of the nature of the good; and that which is good
by nature is also good for the virtuous man (which is the reason
why life seems pleasant to all men); but we must not apply this
to a wicked and corrupt life nor to a life spent in pain; for such a
life is indeterminate, as are its attributes. The nature of pain will
become plainer in what follows. But if life itself is good and
2755
pleasant (which it seems to be, from the very fact that all men
desire it, and particularly those who are good and supremely
happy; for to such men life is most desirable, and their
existence is the most supremely happy) and if he who sees
perceives that he sees, and he who hears, that he hears, and he
who walks, that he walks, and in the case of all other activities
similarly there is something which perceives that we are active,
so that if we perceive, we perceive that we perceive, and if we
think, that we think; and if to perceive that we perceive or think
is to perceive that we exist (for existence was defined as
perceiving or thinking); and if perceiving that one lives is in
itself one of the things that are pleasant (for life is by nature
good, and to perceive what is good present in oneself is
pleasant); and if life is desirable, and particularly so for good
men, because to them existence is good and pleasant for they
are pleased at the consciousness of the presence in them of
what is in itself good); and if as the virtuous man is to himself,
he is to his friend also (for his friend is another self): if all this
be true, as his own being is desirable for each man, so, or almost
so, is that of his friend. Now his being was seen to be desirable
because he perceived his own goodness, and such perception is
pleasant in itself. He needs, therefore, to be conscious of the
existence of his friend as well, and this will be realized in their
living together and sharing in discussion and thought; for this is
what living together would seem to mean in the case of man,
and not, as in the case of cattle, feeding in the same place.
If, then, being is in itself desirable for the supremely happy man
(since it is by its nature good and pleasant), and that of his
friend is very much the same, a friend will be one of the things
that are desirable. Now that which is desirable for him he must
have, or he will be deficient in this respect. The man who is to
be happy will therefore need virtuous friends.
2756
10
Should we, then, make as many friends as possible, or as in
the case of hospitality it is thought to be suitable advice, that
one should be neither a man of many guests nor a man with
none will that apply to friendship as well; should a man
neither be friendless nor have an excessive number of friends?
To friends made with a view to utility this saying would seem
thoroughly applicable; for to do services to many people in
return is a laborious task and life is not long enough for its
performance. Therefore friends in excess of those who are
sufficient for our own life are superfluous, and hindrances to
the noble life; so that we have no need of them. Of friends made
with a view to pleasure, also, few are enough, as a little
seasoning in food is enough.
But as regards good friends, should we have as many as
possible, or is there a limit to the number of ones friends, as
there is to the size of a city? You cannot make a city of ten men,
and if there are a hundred thousand it is a city no longer. But
the proper number is presumably not a single number, but
anything that falls between certain fixed points. So for friends
too there is a fixed number perhaps the largest number with
whom one can live together (for that, we found, thought to be
very characteristic of friendship); and that one cannot live with
many people and divide oneself up among them is plain.
Further, they too must be friends of one another, if they are all
to spend their days together; and it is a hard business for this
condition to be fulfilled with a large number. It is found difficult,
too, to rejoice and to grieve in an intimate way with many
people, for it may likely happen that one has at once to be
happy with one friend and to mourn with another. Presumably,
then, it is well not to seek to have as many friends as possible,
2757
11
Do we need friends more in good fortune or in bad? They are
sought after in both; for while men in adversity need help, in
prosperity they need people to live with and to make the objects
of their beneficence; for they wish to do well by others.
Friendship, then, is more necessary in bad fortune, and so it is
useful friends that one wants in this case; but it is more noble
in good fortune, and so we also seek for good men as our
friends, since it is more desirable to confer benefits on these
and to live with these. For the very presence of friends is
pleasant both in good fortune and also in bad, since grief is
lightened when friends sorrow with us. Hence one might ask
whether they share as it were our burden, or without that
2758
2759
friends,
then,
seems
desirable
in
all
12
Does it not follow, then, that, as for lovers the sight of the
beloved is the thing they love most, and they prefer this sense
to the others because on it love depends most for its being and
for its origin, so for friends the most desirable thing is living
together? For friendship is a partnership, and as a man is to
himself, so is he to his friend; now in his own case the
consciousness of his being is desirable, and so therefore is the
consciousness of his friends being, and the activity of this
consciousness is produced when they live together, so that it is
natural that they aim at this. And whatever existence means for
each class of men, whatever it is for whose sake they value life,
in that they wish to occupy themselves with their friends; and
so some drink together, others dice together, others join in
athletic exercises and hunting, or in the study of philosophy,
each class spending their days together in whatever they love
most in life; for since they wish to live with their friends, they
2760
Book X
1
After these matters we ought perhaps next to discuss pleasure.
For it is thought to be most intimately connected with our
human nature, which is the reason why in educating the young
we steer them by the rudders of pleasure and pain; it is thought,
too, that to enjoy the things we ought and to hate the things we
ought has the greatest bearing on virtue of character. For these
things extend right through life, with a weight and power of
their own in respect both to virtue and to the happy life, since
men choose what is pleasant and avoid what is painful; and
such things, it will be thought, we should least of all omit to
discuss, especially since they admit of much dispute. For some
2761
2
Eudoxus thought pleasure was the good because he saw all
things, both rational and irrational, aiming at it, and because in
all things that which is the object of choice is what is excellent,
and that which is most the object of choice the greatest good;
thus the fact that all things moved towards the same object
indicated that this was for all things the chief good (for each
thing, he argued, finds its own good, as it finds its own
nourishment); and that which is good for all things and at
which all aim was the good. His arguments were credited more
2762
3
Nor again, if pleasure is not a quality, does it follow that it is not
a good; for the activities of virtue are not qualities either, nor is
happiness. They say, however, that the good is determinate,
while pleasure is indeterminate, because it admits of degrees.
Now if it is from the feeling of pleasure that they judge thus, the
same will be true of justice and the other virtues, in respect of
which we plainly say that people of a certain character are so
more or less, and act more or less in accordance with these
virtues; for people may be more just or brave, and it is possible
also to act justly or temperately more or less. But if their
judgement is based on the various pleasures, surely they are not
stating the real cause, if in fact some pleasures are unmixed
and others mixed. Again, just as health admits of degrees
without being indeterminate, why should not pleasure? The
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2765
2766
4
What pleasure is, or what kind of thing it is, will become plainer
if we take up the question aga from the beginning. Seeing
seems to be at any moment complete, for it does not lack
anything which coming into being later will complete its form;
and pleasure also seems to be of this nature. For it is a whole,
and at no time can one find a pleasure whose form will be
completed if the pleasure lasts longer. For this reason, too, it is
not a movement. For every movement (e.g. that of building)
takes time and is for the sake of an end, and is complete when
it has made what it aims at. It is complete, therefore, only in the
whole time or at that final moment. In their parts and during
the time they occupy, all movements are incomplete, and are
different in kind from the whole movement and from each
other. For the fitting together of the stones is different from the
fluting of the column, and these are both different from the
making of the temple; and the making of the temple is
complete (for it lacks nothing with a view to the end proposed),
but the making of the base or of the triglyph is incomplete; for
each is the making of only a part. They differ in kind, then, and
it is not possible to find at any and every time a movement
complete in form, but if at all, only in the whole time. So, too, in
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2768
One might think that all men desire pleasure because they all
aim at life; life is an activity, and each man is active about those
things and with those faculties that he loves most; e.g. the
musician is active with his hearing in reference to tunes, the
student with his mind in reference to theoretical questions, and
so on in each case; now pleasure completes the activities, and
therefore life, which they desire. It is with good reason, then,
that they aim at pleasure too, since for every one it completes
life, which is desirable. But whether we choose life for the sake
of pleasure or pleasure for the sake of life is a question we may
dismiss for the present. For they seem to be bound up together
and not to admit of separation, since without activity pleasure
does not arise, and every activity is completed by the attendant
pleasure.
5
For this reason pleasures seem, too, to differ in kind. For things
different in kind are, we think, completed by different things
(we see this to be true both of natural objects and of things
produced by art, e.g. animals, trees, a painting, a sculpture, a
house, an implement); and, similarly, we think that activities
differing in kind are completed by things differing in kind. Now
the activities of thought differ from those of the senses, and
both differ among themselves, in kind; so, therefore, do the
pleasures that complete them.
This may be seen, too, from the fact that each of the pleasures
is bound up with the activity it completes. For an activity is
intensified by its proper pleasure, since each class of things is
better judged of and brought to precision by those who engage
in the activity with pleasure; e.g. it is those who enjoy
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2771
others neutral, so, too, are the pleasures; for to each activity
there is a proper pleasure. The pleasure proper to a worthy
activity is good and that proper to an unworthy activity bad;
just as the appetites for noble objects are laudable, those for
base objects culpable. But the pleasures involved in activities
are more proper to them than the desires; for the latter are
separated both in time and in nature, while the former are close
to the activities, and so hard to distinguish from them that it
admits of dispute whether the activity is not the same as the
pleasure. (Still, pleasure does not seem to be thought or
perception that would be strange; but because they are not
found apart they appear to some people the same.) As activities
are different, then, so are the corresponding pleasures. Now
sight is superior to touch in purity, and hearing and smell to
taste; the pleasures, therefore, are similarly superior, and those
of thought superior to these, and within each of the two kinds
some are superior to others.
Each animal is thought to have a proper pleasure, as it has a
proper function; viz. that which corresponds to its activity. If we
survey them species by species, too, this will be evident; horse,
dog, and man have different pleasures, as Heraclitus says asses
would prefer sweepings to gold; for food is pleasanter than gold
to asses. So the pleasures of creatures different in kind differ in
kind, and it is plausible to suppose that those of a single species
do not differ. But they vary to no small extent, in the case of
men at least; the same things delight some people and pain
others, and are painful and odious to some, and pleasant to and
liked by others. This happens, too, in the case of sweet things;
the same things do not seem sweet to a man in a fever and a
healthy man nor hot to a weak man and one in good
condition. The same happens in other cases. But in all such
matters that which appears to the good man is thought to be
really so. If this is correct, as it seems to be, and virtue and the
good man as such are the measure of each thing, those also will
2772
6
Now that we have spoken of the virtues, the forms of friendship,
and the varieties of pleasure, what remains is to discuss in
outline the nature of happiness, since this is what we state the
end of human nature to be. Our discussion will be the more
concise if we first sum up what we have said already. We said,
then, that it is not a disposition; for if it were it might belong to
some one who was asleep throughout his life, living the life of a
plant, or, again, to some one who was suffering the greatest
misfortunes. If these implications are unacceptable, and we
must rather class happiness as an activity, as we have said
before, and if some activities are necessary, and desirable for the
sake of something else, while others are so in themselves,
evidently happiness must be placed among those desirable in
themselves, not among those desirable for the sake of
2773
7
If happiness is activity in accordance with virtue, it is
reasonable that it should be in accordance with the highest
virtue; and this will be that of the best thing in us. Whether it be
reason or something else that is this element which is thought
to be our natural ruler and guide and to take thought of things
noble and divine, whether it be itself also divine or only the
most divine element in us, the activity of this in accordance
with its proper virtue will be perfect happiness. That this
activity is contemplative we have already said.
2775
2776
8
But in a secondary degree the life in accordance with the other
kind of virtue is happy; for the activities in accordance with this
befit our human estate. Just and brave acts, and other virtuous
acts, we do in relation to each other, observing our respective
duties with regard to contracts and services and all manner of
actions and with regard to passions; and all of these seem to be
typically human. Some of them seem even to arise from the
body, and virtue of character to be in many ways bound up with
the passions. Practical wisdom, too, is linked to virtue of
character, and this to practical wisdom, since the principles of
practical wisdom are in accordance with the moral virtues and
rightness in morals is in accordance with practical wisdom.
Being connected with the passions also, the moral virtues must
belong to our composite nature; and the virtues of our
composite nature are human; so, therefore, are the life and the
happiness which correspond to these. The excellence of the
reason is a thing apart; we must be content to say this much
about it, for to describe it precisely is a task greater than our
purpose requires. It would seem, however, also to need external
equipment but little, or less than moral virtue does. Grant that
both need the necessaries, and do so equally, even if the
statesmans work is the more concerned with the body and
things of that sort; for there will be little difference there; but in
what they need for the exercise of their activities there will be
much difference. The liberal man will need money for the doing
of his liberal deeds, and the just man too will need it for the
returning of services (for wishes are hard to discern, and even
2778
people who are not just pretend to wish to act justly); and the
brave man will need power if he is to accomplish any of the acts
that correspond to his virtue, and the temperate man will need
opportunity; for how else is either he or any of the others to be
recognized? It is debated, too, whether the will or the deed is
more essential to virtue, which is assumed to involve both; it is
surely clear that its perfection involves both; but for deeds
many things are needed, and more, the greater and nobler the
deeds are. But the man who is contemplating the truth needs
no such thing, at least with a view to the exercise of his activity;
indeed they are, one may say, even hindrances, at all events to
his contemplation; but in so far as he is a man and lives with a
number of people, he chooses to do virtuous acts; he will
therefore need such aids to living a human life.
But that perfect happiness is a contemplative activity will
appear from the following consideration as well. We assume the
gods to be above all other beings blessed and happy; but what
sort of actions must we assign to them? Acts of justice? Will not
the gods seem absurd if they make contracts and return
deposits, and so on? Acts of a brave man, then, confronting
dangers and running risks because it is noble to do so? Or
liberal acts? To whom will they give? It will be strange if they are
really to have money or anything of the kind. And what would
their temperate acts be? Is not such praise tasteless, since they
have no bad appetites? If we were to run through them all, the
circumstances of action would be found trivial and unworthy of
gods. Still, every one supposes that they live and therefore that
they are active; we cannot suppose them to sleep like
Endymion. Now if you take away from a living being action, and
still more production, what is left but contemplation? Therefore
the activity of God, which surpasses all others in blessedness,
must be contemplative; and of human activities, therefore, that
which is most akin to this must be most of the nature of
happiness.
2779
This is indicated, too, by the fact that the other animals have no
share in happiness, being completely deprived of such activity.
For while the whole life of the gods is blessed, and that of men
too in so far as some likeness of such activity belongs to them,
none of the other animals is happy, since they in no way share
in contemplation. Happiness extends, then, just so far as
contemplation does, and those to whom contemplation more
fully belongs are more truly happy, not as a mere concomitant
but in virtue of the contemplation; for this is in itself precious.
Happiness, therefore, must be some form of contemplation.
But, being a man, one will also need external prosperity; for our
nature is not self-sufficient for the purpose of contemplation,
but our body also must be healthy and must have food and
other attention. Still, we must not think that the man who is to
be happy will need many things or great things, merely because
he cannot be supremely happy without external goods; for selfsufficiency and action do not involve excess, and we can do
noble acts without ruling earth and sea; for even with moderate
advantages one can act virtuously (this is manifest enough; for
private persons are thought to do worthy acts no less than
despots indeed even more); and it is enough that we should
have so much as that; for the life of the man who is active in
accordance with virtue will be happy. Solon, too, was perhaps
sketching well the happy man when he described him as
moderately furnished with externals but as having done (as
Solon thought) the noblest acts, and lived temperately; for one
can with but moderate possessions do what one ought.
Anaxagoras also seems to have supposed the happy man not to
be rich nor a despot, when he said that he would not be
surprised if the happy man were to seem to most people a
strange person; for they judge by externals, since these are all
they perceive. The opinions of the wise seem, then, to
harmonize with our arguments. But while even such things
carry some conviction, the truth in practical matters is
2780
discerned from the facts of life; for these are the decisive factor.
We must therefore survey what we have already said, bringing it
to the test of the facts of life, and if it harmonizes with the facts
we must accept it, but if it clashes with them we must suppose
it to be mere theory. Now he who exercises his reason and
cultivates it seems to be both in the best state of mind and most
dear to the gods. For if the gods have any care for human affairs,
as they are thought to have, it would be reasonable both that
they should delight in that which was best and most akin to
them (i.e. reason) and that they should reward those who love
and honour this most, as caring for the things that are dear to
them and acting both rightly and nobly. And that all these
attributes belong most of all to the philosopher is manifest. He,
therefore, is the dearest to the gods. And he who is that will
presumably be also the happiest; so that in this way too the
philosopher will more than any other be happy.
9
If these matters and the virtues, and also friendship and
pleasure, have been dealt with sufficiently in outline, are we to
suppose that our programme has reached its end? Surely, as the
saying goes, where there are things to be done the end is not to
survey and recognize the various things, but rather to do them;
with regard to virtue, then, it is not enough to know, but we
must try to have and use it, or try any other way there may be of
becoming good. Now if arguments were in themselves enough
to make men good, they would justly, as Theognis says, have
won very great rewards, and such rewards should have been
provided; but as things are, while they seem to have power to
encourage and stimulate the generous-minded among our
youth, and to make a character which is gently born, and a true
2781
2782
nurture and attention; since they must, even when they are
grown up, practise and be habituated to them, we shall need
laws for this as well, and generally speaking to cover the whole
of life; for most people obey necessity rather than argument,
and punishments rather than the sense of what is noble.
This is why some think that legislators ought to stimulate men
to virtue and urge them forward by the motive of the noble, on
the assumption that those who have been well advanced by the
formation of habits will attend to such influences; and that
punishments and penalties should be imposed on those who
disobey and are of inferior nature, while the incurably bad
should be completely banished. A good man (they think), since
he lives with his mind fixed on what is noble, will submit to
argument, while a bad man, whose desire is for pleasure, is
corrected by pain like a beast of burden. This is, too, why they
say the pains inflicted should be those that are most opposed to
the pleasures such men love.
However that may be, if (as we have said) the man who is to be
good must be well trained and habituated, and go on to spend
his time in worthy occupations and neither willingly nor
unwillingly do bad actions, and if this can be brought about if
men live in accordance with a sort of reason and right order,
provided this has force, if this be so, the paternal command
indeed has not the required force or compulsive power (nor in
general has the command of one man, unless he be a king or
something similar), but the law has compulsive power, while it
is at the same time a rule proceeding from a sort of practical
wisdom and reason. And while people hate men who oppose
their impulses, even if they oppose them rightly, the law in its
ordaining of what is good is not burdensome.
In the Spartan state alone, or almost alone, the legislator seems
to have paid attention to questions of nurture and occupations;
2783
in most states such matters have been neglected, and each man
lives as he pleases, Cyclops-fashion, to his own wife and
children dealing law. Now it is best that there should be a
public and proper care for such matters; but if they are
neglected by the community it would seem right for each man
to help his children and friends towards virtue, and that they
should have the power, or at least the will, to do this.
It would seem from what has been said that he can do this
better if he makes himself capable of legislating. For public
control is plainly effected by laws, and good control by good
laws; whether written or unwritten would seem to make no
difference, nor whether they are laws providing for the
education of individuals or of groups any more than it does in
the case of music or gymnastics and other such pursuits. For as
in cities laws and prevailing types of character have force, so in
households do the injunctions and the habits of the father, and
these have even more because of the tie of blood and the
benefits he confers; for the children start with a natural
affection and disposition to obey. Further, private education has
an advantage over public, as private medical treatment has; for
while in general rest and abstinence from food are good for a
man in a fever, for a particular man they may not be; and a
boxer presumably does not prescribe the same style of fighting
to all his pupils. It would seem, then, that the detail is worked
out with more precision if the control is private; for each person
is more likely to get what suits his case.
But the details can be best looked after, one by one, by a doctor
or gymnastic instructor or any one else who has the general
knowledge of what is good for every one or for people of a
certain kind (for the sciences both are said to be, and are,
concerned with what is universal); not but what some particular
detail may perhaps be well looked after by an unscientific
person, if he has studied accurately in the light of experience
2784
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2786
2787
Aristotle Politics
[Translated by Benjamin Jowett]
Book I
1
Every state is a community of some kind, and every community
is established with a view to some good; for mankind always act
in order to obtain that which they think good. But, if all
communities aim at some good, the state or political
community, which is the highest of all, and which embraces all
the rest, aims at good in a greater degree than any other, and at
the highest good.
Some people think that the qualifications of a statesman, king,
householder, and master are the same, and that they differ, not
in kind, but only in the number of their subjects. For example,
the ruler over a few is called a master; over more, the manager
of a household; over a still larger number, a statesman or king,
as if there were no difference between a great household and a
small state. The distinction which is made between the king
and the statesman is as follows: When the