This chapter presents Thomas’s preface to his commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle and then his close analysis of the opening panorama in which Aristotle eloquently conveys his conception of the theology that is the culmination of the philosopher’s quest.
Anyone acquainted with the philological discussions that flourished in the wake of Werner Jaeger’s 1912 argument that the Metaphysics of Aristotle is a pastiche of lecture notes dating from different times in the author’s life and thus conveying conflicting views of what the nature of the science he is seeking is, will find Thomas’s prologue a delightful surprise. For Jaeger, in the Metaphysics there is a Platonic layer, there are Aristotelian layers, but what there is not is literary unity.
This suggestion is all the more surprising since Neoplatonic, medieval and Renaissance commentators had all assumed that the Metaphysics was a unified book and produced readings of it to bear out this assumption. On Jaeger’s hypothesis, they were all slightly mad, finding what is in no wise in the text.
Of course it was Jaeger and his eager rivals and followers who exhibited that peculiar dementia that seems somehow endemic to philology. Jaeger held that there were two competing and incompatible notions of First Philosophy in the Metaphysics. The one has God as its subject matter and is a theology. The other has everything that is as its subject matter, and is an ontology. Aristotle’s inability to reconcile these views makes his effort a tragic failure.
Thomas’s prologue can almost be read as anticipating the Jaegerian problem and providing its solution. The prologue is by way of being a promissory note which is redeemed in detail in the commentary to follow.
The opening chapters of Book 1 of the Metaphysics convey an Aristotelian vision of philosophy that Thomas embraced enthusiastically. From the seemingly arguable generalization that all men by nature desire to know, Aristotle takes us on a tour of the external and internal senses, of the difference between experience and art, the distinction between the practical and theoretical, and pursues the spoor of wonder to the point where the only thing that can assuage the human thirst for knowledge is God himself.
That so noble a vision came from a pagan intellect stirred Thomas’s wonder and admiration. Philosophical theology may not be the whole story of man’s desire for wisdom, but it is an essential component of it.
COMMENTARY ON THE METAPHYSICS, PREFACE AND LESSONS 1–3
Preface
As the Philosopher teaches in the Politics, when several things are ordered to one, it is necessary that one is regulative or ruling and the others regulated or directed. This is clear from the union of soul and body, for the soul naturally commands and the body obeys. Similarly, between the powers of the soul, for the irascible and concupiscible are in the natural order ruled by reason. But all sciences and arts are ordered to one, namely to man’s perfection, which is his happiness. Hence it is necessary that one of these be ruler of the others, and it will rightly claim the title of wisdom. For it belongs to the wise man to order.
What this science might be and what might be its concerns can be considered if one thinks carefully about how one is fit to rule. For, as the Philosopher also says in the work mentioned, men strong in intellect are naturally the rulers and lords of others, but men robust in body but of less intellect are naturally servants. So that science which is most intellectual ought to be naturally regulative of the others, and it is such because it considers the most intelligible things.
There are three ways in which things can be called most intelligible.
First, on the basis of the order of understanding. For the things from which the intellect takes certainty seem to be most intelligible. Hence, since the certitude of science is acquired by intellect through causes, it seems that knowledge of causes is especially intellectual. Hence the science which considers the first causes seems especially to be the ruler of the others.
Second, by comparison of intellect to sense. For, since sensation is knowledge of particulars, the intellect seems to differ from the senses in this that it comprehends universals. Hence that science is especially intellectual which is concerned with the most universal principles, such as being, and the things which follow on being, like one and many, potency and act, and the like. Such things ought not to be left wholly undetermined, since without them complete knowledge of what is proper to a genus or species cannot be had. Nor should they be treated in any particular science, because knowledge of each kind of being needs them, and by parity of reasoning they would have to be considered in all the particular sciences. It follows that they should be treated in a common science, which, since it is most intellectual, is regulative of the others.
Third, from the very knowledge of the intellect. Since anything has the intellective power to the degree that it is immune to matter, those things must be most intelligible which are most separate from matter. The intelligible and the understood should be proportional to one another and of the same genus, since intellect and the actually intelligible are one. Those things are most separate from matter which not only abstract from signate matter, like natural forms taken universally, of which natural science treats, but wholly from sensible matter. And not only separate by reason, like mathematicals, but also as they exist, such as God and the Intelligences. Hence the science which considers these things, seems especially to be intellectual, and lord and ruler of the others.
This threefold consideration ought not to be assigned to different sciences, but to one. For the separate substances mentioned are the first and universal causes of being. It falls to the same science to consider the proper causes of a genus and the genus, as the natural philosopher considers the principles of natural body. So it falls to the same science to consider separate substances and common being, which is the genus of which the aforesaid substances are the common and universal causes.
From this it appears that although this science considers the three things mentioned, it does not consider each of them as its subject, but only common being. The subject of a science is that whose causes and properties we seek, not the causes themselves of the genus sought. For knowledge of the causes of any genus is the end towards which the consideration of the science moves. Although the subject of this science is common being, the whole is said to be of things which are separate from matter both as thought of and as they exist. Not only things that never exist in matter, like God and intellectual substances, are said to be separate both in thought and as they exist, but also things which can be without matter, like common being: this would not happen if they depended on matter in order to exist.
From these three, on which the perfection of this science depends, come three names. For it is called divine science or theology, insofar as it considers the substances mentioned. It is called metaphysics, insofar as it considers being and the things which follow on it, for these are found to be after the physical in the order of resolution, as the more common after the less common. It is called First Philosophy, insofar as it considers the first causes of things. Thus it is evident what the subject of this science is, and how it relates to the other sciences, and the names by which it is called.
Lesson 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, for example 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 really science and art come to men through experience; for ‘experience made art,’ as Polus says, ‘but inexperience luck’. Now art arises when from many notions gained by experience one universal judgement about a class of objects is produced. For to have a judgement that when Callias was ill of this disease this did him good, and similarly in the case of Socrates and in many individual cases, is a matter of experience; but to judge that it has done good to all persons of a certain constitution, marked off in one class, when they were ill of this disease, for example to phlegmatic or bilious people when burning with fever – this is a matter of art.
With a view to action experience seems in no respect inferior to art, and men of experience succeed even better than those who have theory without experience. (The reason is that experience is knowledge of individuals, art of universals, and actions and productions are all concerned with the individual; for the physician does not cure man, except in an incidental way, but Callias or Socrates or some other called by some such individual name, who happens to be a man. If, then, a man has the theory without the experience, and recognizes the universal but does not know the individual included in this, he will often fail to cure; for it is the individual that is to be cured.) But yet we think that knowledge and understanding belong to art rather than to experience, and we suppose artists to be wiser than men of experience (which implies that Wisdom depends in all cases rather on knowledge); and this because the former know the cause, but the latter do not. For men of experience know that the thing is so, but do not know why, while the others know the ‘why’ and the cause. Hence we think also that the masterworkers of each craft are more honourable and know in a truer sense and are wiser than the manual workers, because they know the causes of the things that are done (we think the manual workers are like certain lifeless things which act indeed, but act without knowing what they do, as fire burns – but while the lifeless things perform each of their functions by a natural tendency, the labourers perform them through habit); thus we view them as being wiser not in virtue of being able to act, but of having the theory for themselves and knowing the causes. And in general it is a sign of the man who knows and of the man who does not know, that the former can teach, and therefore we think art more truly knowledge than experience is; for artists can teach, and men of mere experience cannot.
Again, we do not regard any of the senses as Wisdom; yet surely these give the most authoritative knowledge of particulars. But they do not tell us the ‘why’ of anything – for example, why fire is hot; they only say that it is hot.
At first he who invented any art whatever that went beyond the common perceptions of man was naturally admired by men, not only because there was something useful in the inventions, but because he was thought wise and superior to the rest. But as more arts were invented, and some were directed to the necessities of life, others to recreation, the inventors of the latter were naturally always regarded as wiser than the inventors of the former, because their branches of knowledge did not aim at utility. Hence when all such inventions were already established, the sciences which do not aim at giving pleasure or at the necessities of life were discovered, and first in the palaces where men first began to have leisure. This is why the mathematical arts were founded in Egypt; for there the priestly caste was allowed to be at leisure.
We have said in the Ethics what the difference is between art and science and the other kindred faculties; but the point of our present discussion is this, that all men suppose what is called Wisdom to deal with the first causes and the principles of things; so that, as has been said before, the man of experience is thought to be wiser than the possessors of any sense perception whatever, the artists wiser than men of experience, the masterworker than the mechanic, and the theoretical kinds of knowledge to be more of the nature of Wisdom than the productive. Clearly, then, Wisdom is knowledge about certain principles and causes.
Aristotle, Metaphysics 1.1
1. Aristotle provides a preface to this science in which he treats two things. First, he shows what this science is concerned with. Second, what kind of science it is. 1 He subdivides the first into two: first, he shows that this science, which is called wisdom, considers causes; second, what kind of causes it considers. 2 With respect to the first point, he sets down some things from which he will argue the point; then he formulates an argument. By way of preliminary, he shows the dignity of science in general, the order of knowledge, beginning with the animals. He shows the dignity of science from this that it is naturally desired by everybody as an end. So he first states his thesis (that all men naturally desire to know) and then sets about proving it: ‘A sign of this…’
2. There is a threefold reason for this. First, everything naturally desires its own perfection. Hence matter is said to desire form, as the imperfect desires its perfection. Therefore, intellect, by which a man is what he is, considered in itself is potentially all things, and actually becomes them through knowledge, since it is none of them prior to understanding, as is said in On the Soul 3: thus everyone naturally desires knowledge as matter desires form.
3. Second, everything has a natural inclination to its proper activity: as heat to heating and the heavy to moving downward. But the proper activity of man, as man, is to understand: it is in this that he differs from all other things. Hence man’s desire is naturally inclined to understanding, and consequently to knowing.
4. Third, everything desires to be united with its principle, for in this the perfection of anything consists. That is why circular motion is most perfect, as is proved in Physics 8, because it unites the end and the beginning. Only through intellect is man united with separated substances, which are the principles of the human intellect and to which the human intellect compares as imperfect to perfect: man’s ultimate happiness consists in this. Therefore a man naturally desires knowledge. It does not count against this that some men do not devote themselves to the pursuit of knowledge, since often those who desire an end are prevented from pursuing it, either because of the difficulty of attaining it, or because of other occupations. Thus although all men desire knowledge, they are deterred either by pleasures or by the necessities of the present life, or out of laziness they avoid the labour of learning. Aristotle asserted this in order that he might show that seeking knowledge, and not for the sake of the useful, as this science does, is not vain, since a natural desire cannot be vain.
5. Then he manifests through a sign what he has proposed: since the senses serve us in two ways, namely for knowledge of things, and for their usefulness for life, they are loved by us for their own sake insofar as they are cognitive, but also because they are useful for living. This is clear from the fact that that sense is especially loved by everyone which is especially cognitive, that is, sight, which we love not only in order to do something, but also when we have nothing to do. The reason is that the sense of sight of all the senses most makes us know and shows us the many differences among things.
6. From this it is manifest that sight is pre-eminent among the senses with respect to knowing, and in two ways. One, because it knows more perfectly, and this is true of sight, because it is more spiritual than the other senses. A knowing power is more perfect in knowing to the degree that it is immaterial. That sight is more immaterial is clear if we consider how it is changed by its object. The other sensibles change the organ and medium of sense in a material way, as the object of touch by warming and cooling, the object of taste by affecting the organ of taste by way of saliva, the object of hearing by bodily movement, and the object of smell by a smoky evaporation. Only the object of sight changes its organ and medium spiritually, for neither the pupil nor the air is coloured, but they receive the species of colour according to a spiritual existence. Therefore, because actual sensing consists in the actual change of sense by the object, it is manifest that this sense has a more spiritual activity, because it is changed more immaterially and spiritually. Therefore sight judges sensible objects much more certainly and perfectly than the other senses.
7. The second reason for its pre-eminence is that it shows us many things, which is the case because of its object. Touch, taste, smell and hearing are of those accidents which distinguish lower from higher bodies, but sight is of those accidents which the lower bodies share with the higher. For something is actually visible by light, in which lower and higher bodies share, as is said in On the Soul 2. Therefore, the heavenly bodies are sensible only to sight.
8. The other reason is that sight shows many differences among things. We seem to know sensible bodies chiefly through sight and touch, and more so by sight. A reason for this can be found in the fact that the other three senses are cognitive of things which in a certain way flow from sensible bodies and do not exist in them: as sound flows from the sensible body and does not remain in it, so too the evaporation with which and from which odour is diffused. But sight and touch perceive accidents immanent in things, like colour and heat and cold. Hence the judgement of touch and sight extend to the things themselves, but the judgement of hearing and smell to what proceeds from things, not the things themselves. Hence shape and size and the like, which are dispositions of the sensible thing, are perceived by sight and touch rather than the other senses. And much more by sight than touch, both because sight has a greater efficacy in knowing, as has been said, and because quantity and what follows on it, which seem to be common sensibles, are closer to the object of sight than to that of touch. This is clear from the fact that the object of sight includes every body having quantity of any kind, which is not true of the object of touch.
9. Next he takes up the order of knowledge, first in brutes, then in men. With respect to brutes, he first touches on that which all animals have in common, second on that which distinguishes them. All animals have this in common that they naturally have senses, for it is this that makes an animal an animal, and that is the nature of animal because the form proper to anything is its nature. But although all animals naturally have senses, not all animals have all of them, but only perfect animals. They all have the sense of touch, for it is in a way the foundation of all the other senses; but not all have the sense of sight, because the sense of sight is more perfect than the others with respect to knowing, but touch is the most necessary as coming first in the order of generation. Things that are more perfect are generated later with respect to this individual, which moves from being imperfect to perfection.
10. Next he points out the diversity of knowledge in the brutes, and he touches on three levels of knowledge in such animals. For there are some which, although they have sense, do not have memory, which comes to be from sensing. For memory follows the image which is ‘the motion made by the actualized sense’, as is said in On the Soul 2. But in some animals, the phantasm does not come to be from sense, and thus there can be no memory in them: such animals are imperfect, and are immobile with respect to place, like oysters. But animals in which sense knowledge provides for the necessities of life and its own proper activity have memory, and move to another place by progressive motion; unless they retained in memory the intention which led them to move, the motion could not continue and the end be achieved. The grasp of the present sensible is sufficient for the activities of immobile animals, since they do not move to a place but have an indeterminate motion based only on a confused imagination, as is said in On the Soul 3.
11. Because some animals do, and others do not, have memory, it follows that some are prudent and others are not. For since prudence provides for the future on the basis of memory of the past (hence Cicero, in Rhetoric 2, gives as its parts memory, understanding and foresight), animals which lack memory cannot have prudence. The animals that do have memory can have something of prudence. Of course ‘prudence’ does not mean the same thing in brute animals and in men. In men, prudence is that according to which they rationally deliberate about what they ought to do; hence in Ethics 6 prudence is called right reason with respect to things to be done. In animals prudence is called the judgement about what is to be done, not from rational deliberation but by a kind of natural instinct. In the animals prudence is a natural estimate of things fitting to pursue and thing harmful to be fled, as the lamb follows its mother and flees the wolf.
12. Among those that have memory, some have hearing and some do not. Those which do not, like the bees and any other such animals, although they can have prudence, are not teachable, such that they can accustom themselves to do or avoid something by the instruction of another: for such instruction takes place chiefly through hearing. Hence it is said in On Sense and the Sensed Object that hearing is the sense of discipline. What he says about bees not having hearing does not mean that they cannot be frightened by sounds. For a loud sound can kill an animal and split wood, as is clear with thunder, but this is not as sound but rather because of the vehement motion of air carrying the sound. So animals which lack hearing, although they cannot judge of sounds, can be frightened by the motions of air. Those animals which have both memory and hearing are teachable and can be prudent.
13. Clearly, then, there are three levels of knowledge in the animals. The first is of those which have neither hearing nor memory, and thus are neither teachable nor prudent. The second is of those which have memory but not hearing, hence they are prudent but not teachable. The third is of those which have both, and are prudent and teachable. There cannot be a fourth level, namely, an animal which has hearing and not memory, for the senses, which grasp their object through an exterior medium, among them hearing, are only in animals which move with progressive movement, who cannot lack memory, as was said.
14. Then he shows the levels of human knowledge, and he does two things. First, he shows how human knowledge surpasses knowledge as discussed thus far; second, he shows how human knowledge is distributed through different levels. On the first point, he says that the life of animals is ruled by imagination and memory: by imagination in the imperfect animals; by memory in perfect animals. Even though the latter have imagination, a thing is ruled by that which is principal in it. To live here is not understood as the existence proper to the living, as in On the Soul 2, where it is said that for living things to exist is to live. For an animal to live (in the sense of exist) precedes both memory and imagination. To live here means the action of life, as we are wont to call the interchange among men their life. By determining the knowledge of animals by comparison with a rule of life, we are given to understand that knowledge is in these animals not for the sake of knowledge but for the needs of action.
15. In men, as will be said below, experience is close to memory, in which animals share only minimally. For experience comes from putting together many singulars retained in memory. But this kind of putting together is proper to man, and pertains to the cogitative power, which is called particular reason: it is a bringing together of individual intentions in the way that universal reason does universal intentions. Because from many sensations and from memory animals are accustomed to pursue or avoid something, they have something, though little, of experience. Above experience, men have universal reason, by which they live as by that which is principal in them.
16. As experience is to particular reason, and custom to memory in animals, so is art to universal reason. Just as the perfect rule of life of animals is through memory conjoined with an accustoming that comes from being taught, or in some other way, so the perfect rule for man is through reason perfected by art. Some are ruled by reason without art, but this is an imperfect rule.
17. Next he shows the different levels of human knowledge, and in this regard does two things: first he compares experience and art, second he compares speculative and active arts. He subdivides the first into two: first, he shows how art and experience come about, then he shows the pre-eminence of the one over the other. As to the way experience comes about, he says it is caused in men by memory, and the way of causing is this, that from many memories of the same thing a man acquires experience of it which enables him to act easily and rightly. Because experience confers the ability to act well and easily, it seems similar to art and science. The similarity lies in this, that both have one ‘take’ on a thing from many instances. They are dissimilar in that the universal is acquired in art, whereas experience is confined to singulars, as will be discussed.
18. He discusses how art comes about, and says that in men science and art come from experience. And he cites Polus who says that experience causes art and inexperience chance. For when someone inexperienced acts well, it is luck. The way in which art comes to be from experience is like the way experience comes from memory. For from many memories comes one knowledge of the experienced, and from many experiences comes the universal grasp of all similars. But art is more than experience, because experience bears only on singulars, but art on universals.
19. He shows this by way of examples. For when a man comes to know that a certain medicine was effective when Socrates and Plato, and many others, were ailing in a certain way, this is a matter of experience. But when someone grasps that it is effective with those who have a determinate illness, with a certain disposition, and helps both the phlegmatic and choleric who have fevers, this is a matter of art.
20. Next he asks whether art or experience is pre-eminent, and first he compares them on the level of action, second on the level of knowledge. With respect to action, experience seems not to differ from art. For when it comes to action, the difference based on the fact that art is of universals and experience of singulars disappears, because both art and experience deal with singulars. Thus the foregoing difference is on the level of knowledge alone. But although art and experience do not differ in their mode of acting, because both deal with singulars, they differ in the efficaciousness of their acting. For the experienced are more proficient in acting than those who have the universal knowledge of art without experience.
21. The reason for this is that actions deal with singulars and it is singulars that come to be. Universals are neither generated nor moved except incidentally, insofar as singulars are. Man is generated when this man is. Hence a physician does not cure man save incidentally, it is Plato or Socrates he saves as such, or some other singular man who is a man incidentally. For although to be a man belongs as such (per se) to Socrates, it is incidental to the cured or medicated. This is per se: Socrates is a man. If Socrates were defined, man would be put into his definition, as is said in Book 4 below. But this is incidental: the one cured or medicated is a man.
22. Since art is of universals and experience of singulars, if one has the knowledge of the art without experience, he will be perfected insofar as he knows the universal, but because he does not know the singular, since he lacks experience, he will often err in trying to cure; curing bears on the singular, not the universal, since it pertains to the former as such, and to the latter incidentally.
23. Then he compares art and experience on the basis of knowledge, and does two things, first, he states the pre-eminence of art over experience; second, he proves it. He bases the pre-eminence of art over experience on three things: with respect to knowing, since we are rather thought to know through art than experience; with respect to difficulties, which arise in disputes, for one having the art can respond to what is raised against the art, whereas the man of experience alone cannot; with respect to this that those having an art come closer to the end of wisdom than the experienced, since wisdom seems to follow on knowing, that is, on the universal. The one having the art is judged wiser than the experienced because he considers universals. Wisdom is thus rather linked to knowledge than to action.
24. He now proves this pre-eminence in three ways. The first proof is this: those who know the cause and the why are more knowing and wise than those who do not know the why, but only the that. The experienced know that something is the case, but they do not know why. Those who have art know the cause and the why and not only that: therefore, those with the art are wiser and more knowledgeable than the experienced.
25. He offers a proof of this. Those who know the cause and the why are compared to those knowing only that, as the master builder to those who do the manual arts. But the art of the master builder is more noble. Therefore, those who know causes and why, are more knowledgeable and wise than those who know only that.
26. The premiss of the proof is apparent from this: the master builders know the causes of the things made. The master builder is the principal artisan or architect: archos meaning principal and techne meaning art. One art is more principal than another which has the principal activity; but the activities of artisans are distinguished in this way: some dispose the matter of the artefact, as carpenters by sawing and planing wood dispose the matter for the form of the ship. There is another activity of inducing the form, as when someone takes the prepared lumber and constructs a boat. Another activity is the use of the thing once made, and this is the most principal. The first is the least, since the first is ordered to the second, and the second to the third. The shipbuilder is the chief artisan with respect to those who prepare the materials, but the navigator who uses the ship once made exercises an art higher than that of the shipbuilder.
27. Since matter is for the sake of form, and the matter should be such as the form requires, the shipbuilder knows the cause, knows why the wood should be prepared in such a way, which those preparing it do not know; similarly, since the whole ship is for his use, the one who uses the ship knows why it should be of such a form, since it must be of such a form in order to serve such and such a use. So, the form of the artefact is the cause of the activities which dispose the matter, and the use is the cause of the activities which bear on the form of the thing made.
28. Thus it is manifest that master builders know the causes of the things made. Those who work with their hands we think of as like inanimate things, not because they make artefacts, but because in making them they do not know what they are making. They know the that, but not the causes, as fire burns without any knowledge. There is then this similarity between those who work with their hands and inanimate things, that just as inanimate things which act without knowledge of the cause are ordered by some higher intellect to their proper end, so too manual workers. But there is this difference, that the inanimate do what they do by nature, but manual workers out of custom, which though it has the force of nature insofar as it inclines determinately to one, still differs from nature in this, that it deals with things which can come about in different ways following human knowledge. Natural things are not habituated, as is said in Ethics 2; one does not train things lacking knowledge. What has been said should be understood as following from this, that some are more wise, not because they are practical – that is, engaged in activity which belongs to the experienced – but insofar as some have knowledge of what is to be done, and know the causes of what is to be done, from which reasons can be drawn, which is proper to master builders.
29. He gives another argument, which is this: a sign that one knows is that he can teach. This is so because anything is actually perfect when it can make another like itself, as is said in Meteorology 4. Therefore, just as it is a sign of heat that it can warm something, so it is a sign that one knows that he can teach, which is to cause knowledge in another. Those who have the art can teach because they know the causes from which they can demonstrate: for demonstration is a syllogism that causes one to know, as is said in Posterior Analytics 1. But the experienced cannot teach because they cannot lead to knowledge since they do not know the cause. If those who know by experience pass it on to others, it is not received in the mode of knowledge, but of opinion or belief. So it is obvious that those who have the art are wiser and more knowing than the experienced.
30. He gives a third argument, which is this: knowledge of singulars is proper to sense rather than to any other knowledge, for all knowledge of singulars arises from sense; but we do not call any or all senses wise, because though a sense may know that, it does not know why. Touch judges that fire is hot, but it does not grasp why; therefore, the experienced who have knowledge of singulars and do not know the cause are not called wise.
31. Next he compares active and speculative art. First he shows that the speculative is more wisdom than practical art, and then responds to an objection. Those sciences are more honourable and worthy of the name of wisdom when those knowing them are held in honour and admiration by other men. The discoverer of an art is held in admiration, because he has sense and judgement and discernment of the cause beyond those of others, not because of the usefulness of what he discovers: he is more admired as distinguished from others in wisdom. Wise, with respect to a subtle inquiry into the causes of the thing discovered; distinguished, 1with respect to the investigation into the difference of one thing from another; or distinguished, in the passive as recognized to be different from others. Thus, some sciences are more admirable and worthy of the name wisdom because of their more eminent knowledge, not their utility.
32.. Since there are many arts prized for their utility, some of which are ordered to the necessities of life, like the mechanical arts, but others because they introduce others to the sciences, like the logical sciences, among those having arts those are accounted more wise whose arts are not for the sake of utility, but for the sake of knowledge itself, such as the speculative sciences.
33. That the speculative sciences were not discovered for utility is clear from this sign: while all the other arts had been discovered which are able to introduce to knowledge, or are for the necessities of life, or for pleasure, such as the arts devised for the amusement of men, the speculative were not sought for any of these reasons, but for their own sake. That they are not for utility is clear from the place where they were discovered, for they were first discovered where men pursued such things. Another reading has: and first in those places where there was leisure, that is, other occupations being set aside, the necessities having been provided for. Hence it was in Egypt that the mathematical arts, which are quite speculative, were first discovered by the priests, who were given leisure for study at the public expense, as we also read of in Genesis.
34. Since he has used the name art indifferently of wisdom and science, lest anyone think these are synonyms in every way meaning the same, he corrects this by referring to his work on morals, that is Ethics 6, where is discussed the way science and art and wisdom and prudence and understanding differ. To put it briefly, wisdom and science and understanding are in the speculative part of the soul, which he here calls the scientific part of the soul. They differ in that understanding is the habit of the first principles of demonstration; science is of conclusions about lesser things, whereas wisdom considers the first causes, so in the same place it is called the chief of the sciences. Prudence and art are in the practical part of the soul, which is ratiocinative about contingent things that can be done by us. But they differ, for prudence directs actions which do not pass into exterior matter but are perfections of the agent, hence prudence is called there right reason about things to be done. But art directs in making, which passes into exterior matter, such as building and sawing; hence art is called right reason about things to be made.
35. From what has been said, he now argues for his principal thesis, namely, that wisdom is concerned with causes. For he says that this is the point of this discourse, that is, the foregoing reasoning: the science that is called wisdom seems to be concerned with the first causes and first principles. Which is clear from what has been said. For someone is wiser to the degree that he has knowledge of causes since, relying on the preceding, the experienced is wiser than one who has sense without experience, and the one having the art is wiser than any experienced person, and among those having art, the master builder is wiser than the manual worker, and in both the arts and sciences, the speculative have more knowledge than the active, and all these follow from the foregoing. It remains that the science which is wisdom simply is concerned with causes. And the mode of arguing is as if we should say that that which is hotter is more fiery, hence that which is fire absolutely is heat absolutely.
Lesson 2
Since we are seeking 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 (sense-perception 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 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 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, for example 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 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, that is, the end, is one of the causes.
Aristotle, Metaphysics 1.2
36. After the Philosopher shows that wisdom is a science that bears on causes, here he wishes to show the kind of causes and principles with which it is concerned. He shows that it is concerned with the first and most universal causes, arguing from the definition of wisdom. There are three things that he does: first he gathers a definition of wisdom from the way men speak of the wise man and of wisdom. Second, he shows that all these traits belong to a universal science which considers first and universal causes. Third, he draws his conclusions. There are six common opinions that men hold about wisdom. First, all commonly take the wise man to know all things, in an appropriate way, because he does not have knowledge of all singulars, for this is impossible, singulars being infinite and the infinite being incomprehensible by intellect.
37. Second, we think that man wise who is capable because of the force of his intellect of knowing difficult matters, and not the easy things commonly known by all. Sensing is common to all, that is, to know sensible things, so it is easy and not sophon, something pertaining to the wise man. It is obvious that that which properly pertains to the wise man should not be easily known by all.
38. Third, we say that man is wise who has more certainty about the things he knows than others commonly have.
39. Fourth, we think him more wise in any science who can assign the causes of whatever is sought, and in this way teach.
40. Fifth, that among the sciences is wisdom which is most wanted and desired, that is, wanted for the sake of knowledge and for the sake of knowing, than the science which is the cause of whatever contingent things can follow on knowledge, such as the necessities of life, pleasure, and other like things.
41. Sixth, the wisdom we are talking about must be, or we say it is, more ancient, that is, more worthy, than any ancillary science, as can be understood from the foregoing. For in the ancillary mechanical arts there are those that are executed on the command of the superior artisan, whom we called above both architect and wise.
42. He proves that the notion of wisdom belongs to the commanding sciences rather than to the ancillary sciences in two ways. First, because the ancillary sciences are ordered by the superior sciences, for the ancillary arts are ordered to the end of the higher art, as the equestrian art to the end of the military. But it is everyone’s opinion that the wise man ought not to be ordered by others, rather it is for him to order them. Again, lesser master builders are persuaded by their superiors, insofar as they believe the superiors with respect to what is to be done or made. For the shipbuilder believes the navigator teaching how the form of the ship should be. But it is not proper for the wise man to be persuaded by another, rather he should persuade others with his knowledge.
43. These, then, are the opinions that men have of wisdom and the wise man. A description of wisdom can be formed from them: he is called wise who knows all things, even the difficult, with certitude and through causes, seeking such knowledge for its own sake, ordering and persuading others. And this is, as it were, the major of the syllogism. For every wise man ought to be such, and conversely, whoever is such, is a wise man.
44. Next he shows that all the foregoing belong to him who knows the first and universal causes, and he pursues the same order as above. First, he says that one having universal science especially has it in him to know all things, which was the first point. Proof: whoever knows universals, in some way knows the things that fall under the universals. Therefore, he who knows the most universal, in a certain way knows all things.
45. Next he shows that it has the second characteristic, thus: those things which are most remote from the senses, are difficult for men to know, for sense knowledge is common to all, since in it all human knowledge has its beginning. But the most universal is farthest removed from sensible things, because sense is of singulars. Therefore, universals are most difficult for men to know. Evidently then that science is most difficult which is concerned with the most universal.
46. This seems to contradict Physics 1, for there it is said that the more universal is more known to us, but things which are known first are easiest. In reply it should be said that the more universal according to simple apprehension is known first, for being comes first into our mind, as Avicenna says, and animal comes to mind before man. Just as in natural being that which proceeds from potency to act is an animal before it is man, so in the generation of science the intellect conceives animal before man. But with respect to the investigation of natural properties and causes, we first know the less common, because by particular causes which are of one genus or species we go on to universal causes. The things which are universal in causing are known later by us, although they are by nature more known, but universals in predication are in a way more known to us than the less universal, though not known before singulars. For in us the knowledge of sense which has the singular for its object precedes intellectual knowledge, which is of universals.
A point should be made of the fact that he does not say that the most universal are the most difficult, but almost. For the things which are wholly separated from matter in existence, like immaterial substances, are more difficult for us to know than even universals, and therefore this science, which is called wisdom, although it is first in dignity, is last to be learned.
47. He now shows that the third characteristic is in this science by this argument: sciences are more certain to the degree that they are naturally prior. Which is clear from this that the sciences which are said to be by addition to others are less certain than the sciences that have fewer things in their consideration, as arithmetic is more certain than geometry, because geometrical things are by way of addition to arithmetical, which is clear when you consider what each science takes as its first principle, namely, one and point. For the point adds position to the unit. To be indivisible constitutes the notion of unity, and this, insofar as it has the note of measure, is the principle of number. But the point adds position to it.
But the particular sciences are naturally posterior to the universal sciences, because their subjects add to the subjects of the universal sciences. As is clear, mobile being with which natural philosophy is concerned, adds to being simply, with which metaphysics is concerned, and to quantified being with which mathematics is concerned. Therefore, the science of being, and the most universal, is most certain. Nor does that conflict with what he said earlier that only a few know all things. For the universal comprises fewer things actually, but many things potentially. A science is more certain to the degree that fewer things need actually be considered with respect to its subject. Hence the operative sciences are most uncertain, since they must consider many circumstances of the singular things to be done.
48. He shows that the fourth characteristic belongs to it, by this argument: that science is more didactic or doctrinal which most considers causes, for only they teach who state the causes of each thing, for knowing is through the cause, and to teach is to cause science in another. But the science which considers universals, considers the first of all causes, hence it is evidently most doctrinal or teaching.
49. That the fifth characteristic of wisdom belongs to this science, he shows thus: the sciences which know for the sake of knowing, that is, for itself and not for the sake of other things, are concerned with the most knowable. The sciences which are of the first causes are of the most knowable. Therefore these sciences especially are desired for their own sake. Proof of the first: he who desires to know for the sake of knowing, desires knowledge most. But the greatest knowledge is of the most knowable. Therefore those sciences are most desired for their own sake which are of the most knowable. Proof of the second: those things from which and for the sake of which other things are known are more knowable than the things that are known from them. But from causes and principles other things are known, and not conversely. Etc.
50. He shows that the sixth characteristic belongs to this science, by this argument: that science is principal relative to others – as architectonic to the servile or ancillary – which considers the final cause, for the sake of which each thing is done, as is apparent from what has been already said. For the navigator, to whom the use of the ship, which is the end of the ship, pertains, is as architect to the shipbuilder who serves him. But the science mentioned especially considers the final cause of all things. This is clear because that for the sake of which each thing is done is the good of each, that is, of each particular good. The end is the good in any genus. But that which is the end of all, that is, of the universe itself, is that which is best in the whole of nature. This pertains to the consideration of this science. Therefore, it is principal or architectonic with respect to all others.
51. He concludes from the foregoing what he chiefly intends, saying that from all the foregoing it appears that the name wisdom belongs to the science that we are seeking, namely that science which is theoretical, that is, speculates about the first principles and causes. This is manifest from the six conditions which manifestly pertain to one considering universal causes. But, because the sixth condition touched the consideration of the end, which was not clearly seen to be a cause by the ancients, as will be said below, therefore he especially shows that this is a condition of this science that considers first causes, because the end, which is the good, and for the sake of which others come to be, is numbered among the causes. Hence the science which considers the first and universal causes, must also consider the universal end of all, which is the best thing in the whole of nature.
Lesson 3
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, for example about the phenomena of the moon and those of the sun and 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); therefore since they philosophized in order to escape from ignorance, evidently they were pursuing science in order to know, and not for any utilitarian end. And this is confirmed by the facts; for it was when almost all the necessities of life and the things that make for comfort and recreation had been secured, that such knowledge began to be sought. Evidently, then, we do not seek it for the sake of any other advantage; but as the man is free, we say, who exists for his own sake and not for another’s, so we pursue this as the only free science, for it alone exists for its own sake.
Hence also the possession of it might be justly regarded as beyond human power; for in many ways human nature is in bondage, so that according to Simonides, ‘God alone can have this privilege,’ and it is unfitting that man should not be content to seek the knowledge that is suited to him. If, then, there is something in what the poets say, and jealousy is natural to the divine power, it would probably occur in this case above all, and all who excelled in this knowledge would be unfortunate. But the divine power cannot be jealous (nay, according to the proverb, ‘Bards tell many a lie’), nor should any other science be thought more honourable than one of this sort. For the most divine science is also most honourable, and this science alone must be, in two ways, most divine. For the science which it would be most meet for God to have is a divine science, and so is any science that deals with divine objects; and this science alone has both these qualities; for (1) God is thought to be among the causes of all things and to be a first principle, and (2) such a science either God alone can have, or God above all others. All the sciences, indeed, are more necessary than this, but none is better.
Yet the acquisition of it must in a sense end in something which is the opposite of our original inquiries. For all men begin, as we said, by wondering that things are as they are, as they do about self-moving marionettes, or about the solstices or the incommensurability of the diagonal of a square with the side; for it seems wonderful to all who have not yet seen the reason, that there is a thing which cannot be measured even by the smallest unit. But we must end in the contrary and, according to the proverb, the better state, as is the case in these instances too when men learn the cause; for there is nothing which would surprise a geometer so much as if the diagonal turned out to be commensurable.
We have stated, then, what is the nature of the science we are searching for, and what is the mark which our search and our whole investigation must reach.
Aristotle, Metaphysics 1.2 (contd)
52. Having shown what this science is concerned with, he shows what kind of science it is. First, he shows the dignity of the science and then the goal it seeks to reach. He makes four points with respect to its dignity: (1) it is a speculative, not an active science; (2) it is most free; (3) it is more than human; (4) it is most honourable. For each of these, he first gives an argument, then a sign.
53. He gives the following argument on behalf of (1). No science which seeks knowledge for its own sake is an active science; it is speculative. But the science that is called wisdom or philosophy is sought for the sake of knowledge; therefore, it is speculative and not active. He manifests the minor premiss in this way: he who seeks as his end to flee from ignorance, intends knowledge for its own sake. But those who philosophize seek as their end to flee ignorance; therefore, their intention is to know for its own sake.
54. That they seek to flee ignorance is clear from this, that those who first philosophized and those who do so now begin to philosophize by wondering about a cause, but differently in the beginning and now. In the beginning they wondered about fewer doubtful things which were ready to hand in order to know their causes, but afterwards, proceeding from knowledge of more obvious things to inquiry into the more obscure, they began to doubt about greater and more hidden things, such lunar events as its eclipse and its phases which vary as it is differently related to the sun, and so too they raised questions about the sun, its eclipse and motion and size, and about the stars, their number and order and the like, and of the coming into being of the whole universe. Which some said came about by chance, some by intellect, some by love.
55. It is clear that doubt and wonder arise from ignorance, since when we see events whose cause is hidden to us, we wonder about their cause, and given that such wonder was the cause that led to philosophy, the philomyth, or lover of tales, which is the mark of the poet, is in his way a philosopher, because those who first dealt with the principles of things by way of myths were called theologizing poets, such as Perseus, and the seven sages were others. The reason the philosopher is compared to the poet is that both are concerned with wonders and the fables of the poets are filled with wonders. The philosophers were moved by wonder to philosophize, and since wonder arises from ignorance, it is clear that they were moved to philosophize in order to flee ignorance. Whence it is clear that they pursued and studiously sought science solely in order to know, and not because of any use or utility.
56. It should be noticed that whereas he first used the name wisdom now he is speaking of philosophy, taking them for the same thing. For since those who first gave themselves to the study of wisdom were called sophists or the wise, when Pythagoras was asked what he did, he was reluctant to call himself wise, as his predecessors had, since this seemed to him presumptuous, so he called himself a philosopher, that is, a lover of wisdom. So the term wise was changed to the term philosopher, and wisdom to philosophy. The name is relevant to his point. For he seems to be a lover of wisdom who seeks wisdom for its own sake, not for something else, for he who seeks something for a further purpose loves that more than what he immediately seeks.
57. He proves the same point with a sign, saying that what has been said, namely that wisdom or philosophy is not sought for the sake of its utility, but for the sake of knowing itself, is testified to by an event affecting the pursuers of philosophy. For it was when nearly everything needed for the necessity of life and amusement or pleasure, which consists of leisure, and even what was necessary for learning, like the logical sciences, which are not sought for themselves, but as introductory to other arts – it was after all that had been discovered that this prudence or wisdom began to be sought. From this it is clear that it is not sought for any need beyond itself, but for its own sake: no one seeks what he has. Hence, when everything else was had, it was sought and sought for its own sake, not for the sake of anything else.
58. He proves (2) using this argument: a man is properly called free who does not exist for the sake of another, but for his own sake. Slaves belong to their masters and act for the sake of their masters, and receive from them whatever they receive. But free men are for their own sake, acquiring and acting for themselves. But only this science is for itself. Therefore it alone is free among the sciences.
59. Notice that this can be understood in two ways. In one way, that what is said applies to the genus of speculative sciences alone, and then it is true that only this type of science is sought for its own sake, hence only those arts are called liberal which are ordered to knowing, but those which are ordered to having some usefulness for action are called mechanical or servile. In another way, to show something peculiar to philosophy or wisdom which is concerned with the highest causes, among which is the final cause, as was said above. Which is why this science considers the ultimate and universal end of all. Thus all the other sciences are ordered to it as to their end and only it is fully for its own sake.
60. He now proves (3), that it is not quite human: first he will prove it and then exclude an error in its regard. Here is the proof: the science that is most free ought not to be a possession of one who is in many ways a servant and slave; but in many respects human nature is enslaved; therefore this science is not a human possession. He says that human nature is enslaved insofar as it is bound by many necessities. This brings it about that one sometimes sets aside what should be sought for its own sake because of the necessities of life; in the Topics 3 he says that it is better to philosophize than get rich although sometimes gathering wealth is chosen, as by one who is needy. From this it is evident that this wisdom is sought for its own sake in such a way that it does not belong to man as a possession, which he can use at will, since frequently he is impeded from it on account of the necessities of life. Nor is it man’s on command since he can never perfectly attain it, but the little bit of it he can have outweighs what is known in all the other sciences.
61. He then excludes the error of Simonides the poet who said that to God alone belongs the honour of desiring this science which is sought for itself alone and not for something else. It is not fitting for a man, who should seek knowledge in keeping with his condition, one that is ordered to the necessities of life, which a man needs.
62. The error of Simonides arises from that error of the poets to the effect that the divine is jealous and out of jealousy God does not want others to have what pertains to his honour. If God were jealous, he would be much more so in this, namely the science sought for its own sake, which is the most honourable of all. According to their opinion it follows that all imperfect things are unfortunate. For men are said to be fortunate by the providence of the gods, who bestow goods on them. Hence out of the jealousy of the gods not wishing to share their goods it follows that men remaining outside the perfection of this science are unfortunate.
63. The root of this opinion is most false, since it is not fitting that anything divine should envy, which is clear from the fact that envy is sadness at someone’s prosperity, which can only happen if the one who envies regards the good of the other as a diminution of his own good. But God is not sad, since he is subject to no evil, nor can another’s good diminish his good, because from his goodness, which is a ceaseless fount, all goods flow. Plato too said that all envy must be denied of God. Not only in this, but in many other matters, poets lie, as is said in the popular proverb.
64. Here he proves (4), that this science is the most honourable, by this argument: that science is most honourable which is most divine, just as God is more honourable than all other things; but this science is especially divine. Therefore, it is the most honourable. The minor premiss is proved thus: a science is called divine in two ways and only this science is called divine in both; in one way, it is divine because God has it, in another because it is concerned with divine things. That both belong to this science is clear. Since this science is of first causes and principles, it must be about God, because this is how all understand God, as one of the causes and as the principle of things. Again, the science which is of God and of first causes is either one that God alone has or, if not, that he especially has. Only he has it according to perfect comprehension. And he especially has it because it is by his action that it is had by men in their way, though not as their possession, but as something borrowed.
65. From this he further concludes that all other sciences are more necessary than this in respect of usefulness for life and are little sought for their own sake. But none of the others can be more worthy than it.
66. He then states the goal at which this science aims, and says that its order consists or terminates in the contrary of that which characterized those who first sought this science, as also happens in natural generations and motions. For a motion terminates in the contrary of that from which it began. And, since inquiry is a kind of motion towards knowledge, it should terminate in the contrary of that from which it begins. But the inquiry of this science began with wonder about everything (as has been said), the first wondering about obvious things, subsequent ones about the more obscure. This wonder reacted to things as if they were wonderful automata – that is, which wonderfully seemed merely to happen (automata means what just happens as such). Men most wonder when things come about by chance in this way, as if they were foreseen and determined by some cause. Chance events are not from a determined cause, and wonder is due to ignorance of the cause. Therefore, before men were able to ask after the causes of things, they wondered about everything as if it were from chance. Just as they wondered about the two tropics of the sun, the winter and summer, for in the summer solstice the sun begins to move from north to south, but in the winter it is the reverse. So too with respect to the fact that the diagonal is not commensurate with the side of the square, for since it does not seem measured by the indivisible alone, just as the one is not measured by number but is the measure of all numbers, it seemed marvellous that something which was not indivisible should not be measured, and that what was least was not measured. It is clear that the diagonal of the square and its side are not indivisibles, or least quantities. Hence it seemed a marvel that they were not commensurable.
67. Therefore, since the inquiry of philosophy begins from wonder, it should end in or achieve the contrary, and to achieve that which is more worthy, as the popular proverb agrees which says that what is achieved is always the better. What that contrary and more worthy state might be is evident from the marvels already mentioned. When men once learn their causes, they no longer marvel. As the geometer does not wonder that the diagonal is incommensurate with the side, for he knows why, namely because the proportion of the square of the diagonal to the square of the side is not the proportion of square number to square number, but like the proportion of two to one. It follows that the proportion of the side to the diagonal is not one of number to number, and then it is obvious that they cannot be commensurate. For only those lines are commensurable whose proportion to one another is that of number to number. Therefore, the end of this science which we should achieve is that by knowing the causes, we no longer wonder at their effects.
68. The nature of this science is evident from what has been said: it is speculative, free, not human, but divine. And what the intention is that guides its questionings, its method and its whole art, is also clear. For it bears on the first and universal causes of all things, concerning which it both inquires and determines. Given knowledge of these things, it achieves the stated term, namely that known causes are not wondered at.