This is not the place to estimate Alexander as an historic personage.

What can be ascribed in Alexander’s education to Aristotle’s

philosophic instruction is the fact that what was natural to him, the

inherent greatness of his mental disposition, acquired inward freedom

also, and became elevated into the perfect, self-conscious independence

which we see in his aims and deeds. Alexander attained to that perfect

certainty of himself which the infinite boldness of thought alone

gives, and to an independence of particular and limited projects, as

also to their elevation into the entirely universal end of bringing

about in the world a social life and intercourse of a mutual kind,

through the foundation of states which were free from contingent

individuality. Alexander thus carried out the plan which his father

had already conceived, which was, at the head of the Greeks, to avenge

Europe upon Asia, and to subject Asia to Greece; so that as it was in

the beginning of Greek history that the Greeks were united, and that

only for the Trojan war, this union likewise brought the Greek world

proper to an end. Alexander thereby also avenged the faithlessness and

cruelty perpetrated by the Persians on Aristotle’s friend Hermias. But

Alexander further disseminated Greek culture over Asia, in order to

elevate into a Greek world this wild medley of utter barbarism, bent

solely on destruction, and torn by internal dissensions, these lands

entirely sunk in indolence, negation, and spiritual degeneracy. And if

it be said that he was merely a conqueror who was unable to establish

an enduring kingdom, because his kingdom at his death once more fell to

pieces, we must acknowledge that, from a superficial view of the case,

this is true, as his family did not retain their rule; Greek rule was,

however, maintained. Thus Alexander did not found an extensive kingdom

for his family, but he founded a kingdom of the Greek nation over Asia;

for Greek culture and science have since his time taken root there.

The Greek kingdoms of Asia Minor, and particularly of Egypt, were for

centuries the home of science; and their influence may have extended

as far as to India and to China. We certainly do not know definitely

whether the Indians may not have obtained what is best in their

sciences in this way, but it is probable that at least the more exact

portion of Indian astronomy came to them from Greece. For it was from

the Syrian kingdom, stretching into Asia Minor as far as to a Greek

kingdom in Bactria, that there was doubtless conveyed to the interior

of India and China, by means of Greek colonies migrating thither, the

meagre scientific knowledge which has lingered there like a tradition,

though it has never flourished. For the Chinese, for example, are

not skilful enough to make a calendar of their own, or to think for

themselves. Yet they exhibited ancient instruments unsuited to any work

done by them, and the immediate conjecture was that these had come from

Bactria. The high idea that men had of the sciences of the Indians and

of the Chinese hence is false.

According to Ritter (Erdkunde, Vol. II. p. 839, of the first edition),

Alexander did not set out merely with a view of conquering, but with

the idea that he was the Lord. I do not think that Aristotle placed

this notion, which was connected with another Oriental conception, in

the mind of Alexander. The other idea is that in the East the name of

Alexander still flourishes as Ispander, and as Dul-k-ar-nein, _i.e._

the man with two horns, just as Jupiter Ammon is an ancient Eastern

hero. The question would now be whether the Macedonian kings did not,

through their descent from the ancient race of Indian heroes, claim

to rule this land; by this the progress of Dionysius from Thrace to

India could likewise be explained; whether the “knowledge of this was

not the real and fundamental religious idea inspiring the young hero’s

soul when, before his journey to Asia, he found on the lower Ister

(Danube) Indian priestly states where the immortality of the soul was

taught, and when, certainly not without the counsel of Aristotle, who,

through Plato and Pythagoras, was initiated into Indian wisdom, he

began the march into the East, and first of all visited the Oracle of

Ammonium (now Siwah), and then destroyed the Persian kingdom and burnt

Persepolis, the old enemy of Indian religion, in order to take revenge

upon it for all the violence exercised through Darius on the Buddhists

and their co-religionists.” This is an ingenious theory, formed from a

thorough investigation of the connection which exists between Oriental

and European ideas from the higher point of view in history. But, in

the first place, this conjecture is contrary to the historical basis

on which I take my stand. Alexander’s expedition has quite another

historic, military, and political character than this, and had not much

to do with his going to India; it was, on the face of it, an ordinary

conquest. In the second place, Aristotle’s metaphysic and philosophy

is far from recognizing any such foolish and extravagant imaginations.

The elevation of Alexander in the Oriental mind into an acknowledged

hero and god, which followed later, is, in the third place, not matter

for surprise; the Dalai-Lama is still thus honoured, and God and man

are never so very far asunder. Greece likewise worked its way to the

idea of a God becoming man, and that not as a remote and foreign image,

but as a present God in a godless world: Demetrius Phalereus and

others were thus soon after honoured and worshipped in Athens as God.

Was the infinite not also now transplanted into self-consciousness?

Fourthly, the Buddhists did not interest Alexander, and in his Indian

expedition they do not appear; the destruction of Persepolis is,

however, sufficiently justified as a measure of Greek vengeance for the

destruction by Xerxes of the temples in Greece, especially in Athens.

While Alexander accomplished this great work—for he was the greatest

individual at the head of Greece, he ever kept science and art in

mind. Just as in modern times we have once more met with warriors

who thought of science and of art in their campaigns, we also find

that Alexander made an arrangement whereby whatever was discovered in

the way of animals and plants in Asia should be sent to Aristotle,

or else drawings and descriptions of the same. This consideration on

Alexander’s part afforded to Aristotle a most favourable opportunity

of collecting treasures for his study of nature. Pliny (Histor. natur.

VIII., 17 ed. Bip.) relates that Alexander directed about a thousand

men, who lived by hunting, fishing and fowling, the overseers of the

zoological gardens, aviaries, and tanks of the Persian kingdom, to

supply Aristotle with what was remarkable from every place. In this

way Alexander’s campaign in Asia had the further effect of enabling

Aristotle to found the science of natural history, and to be the

author, according to Pliny, of a natural history in fifty parts.

After Alexander commenced his journey to Asia, Aristotle returned to

Athens, and made his appearance as a public teacher in the Lyceum,

a pleasure-ground which Pericles had made for the exercising of

recruits; it consisted of a temple dedicated to Apollo (Λύκειος), and

shady walks (περίπατοι), which were enlivened by trees, fountains

and colonnades. It was from these walks that his school received the

name of Peripatetics, and not from any walking about on the part of

Aristotle—because, it is said, he delivered his discourses usually

while walking. He lived and taught in Athens for thirteen years. But

after the death of Alexander there broke out a tempest which had, as

it appeared, been long held back through fear of Alexander; Aristotle

was accused of impiety. The facts are differently stated: amongst other

things it is said that his hymn to Hermias and the inscription on the

statue dedicated to him were laid to his charge. When he saw the storm

gathering, he escaped to Chalcis in Eub\na, the present Negropont,

in order, as he himself said, that the Athenians should not have an

opportunity of once more sinning against Philosophy. There he died,

in the next year, in the sixty-third year of his age, Ol. 114, 3 (322

B.C.).[83]

We derive Aristotle’s philosophy from his writings; but when we

consider their history and nature, so far as externals are concerned,

the difficulty of deriving a knowledge of his philosophy from them

seems much increased. I cannot certainly enter into details regarding

these last. Diogenes Laërtius (V. 21-27) mentions a very large

number of them, but by their titles we do not always quite know

which of those now in our possession are indicated, since the titles

are entirely different. Diogenes gives the number of lines as four

hundred and forty-five thousand, two hundred and seventy, and, if we

count about ten thousand lines in a printer’s alphabet, this gives

us forty-four alphabets. What we now have might perhaps amount to

about ten alphabets, so that we have only about the fourth part left

to us. The history of the Aristotelian manuscripts has been stated

to be such that it would really seem impossible, or almost hopeless,

that any one of his writings should have been preserved to us in its

original condition, and not corrupted. Doubts regarding their genuine

character could not in such circumstances fail to exist; and we can

only wonder at seeing them come down to us even in the condition in

which they are. For, as we have said, Aristotle made them known but

little during his lifetime, and he left his writings to Theophrastus,

his successor, with the rest of his immense library. This, indeed,

is the first considerable library, collected as it was by means of

personal wealth along with Alexander’s assistance, and hence it also

reveals to us Aristotle’s learning. Later on, it came partially, or in

some cases in duplicate, to Alexandria, and formed the basis of the

Ptolemaic library, which, on the taking of Alexandria by Julius Cæsar,

became a prey to fire. But of the manuscripts of Aristotle himself

it is said that Theophrastus left them by will to a certain Neleus,

from whom they came into the hands of ignorant men, who either kept

them without care or estimation of their value, or else the heirs of

Neleus, in order to save them from the Kings of Pergamus, who were

very anxious to collect a library, hid them in a cellar, where they

lay forgotten for a hundred and thirty years, and thus got into bad

condition. Finally, the descendants of Theophrastus found them again

after long search, and sold them to Apellicon of Teos, who restored

what had been destroyed by worms and mould, but who did not possess

the learning or the capacity so to do. Hence others went over them,

filled up the blanks as they thought best, replaced what was damaged,

and thus they were sufficiently altered. But still it was not enough.

Just after Apellicon’s death, the Roman Sulla conquered Athens, and

amongst the spoil carried off to Rome were the works of Aristotle. The

Romans, who had just begun to become acquainted with Greek science and

art, but who did not yet appreciate Greek philosophy, did not know how

to profit from this spoil. A Greek, named Tyrannion, later on obtained

permission to make use of and publish the manuscripts of Aristotle, and

he prepared an edition of them, which, however, also bears the reproach

of being inaccurate, for here they had the fate of being given by the

dealers into the hands of ignorant copyists, who introduced a number of

additional corruptions.[84]

This is the way in which the Aristotelian philosophy has come to us.

Aristotle certainly made known much to his contemporaries, that is to

say, the writings in the Alexandrian library, but even those works do

not seem to have been widely known. In fact, many of them are most

corrupt, imperfect, and, as, for example, the Poetics, incomplete.

Several of them, such as the Metaphysical treatises, seem to be patched

up from different writings, so that the higher criticism can give rein

to all its ingenuity, and, according to one clever critic, the matter

may with much show of probability be decided in one particular way,

while another ingenious person has a different explanation to oppose

to this.[85] So much remains certain, that the writings of Aristotle

are corrupt, and often both in their details and in the main, not

consistent; and we often find whole paragraphs almost verbally

repeated. Since the evil is so old, no real cure can certainly be

looked for; however, the matter is not so bad as would appear from this

description. There are many and important works which may be considered

to be entire and uninjured, and though there are others corrupt here

and there, or not well arranged, yet, as far as the essentials are

concerned, no such great harm has been done as might appear. What we

possess therefore places us in a sufficiently good position to form a

definite idea of the Aristotelian philosophy, both as a whole, and in

many of its details.

But there is still an historic distinction to be noted. For there is

an old tradition that Aristotle’s teaching was of a twofold nature

and that his writings were of two different kinds, viz. esoteric or

acroamatic and exoteric—a distinction which was also made by the

Pythagoreans (Vol. I. p 202). The esoteric teaching was given within

the Lyceum in the morning, the exoteric in the evening; the latter

related to practice in the art of rhetoric and in disputation, as

also to civic business, but the other to the inward and more profound

philosophy, to the contemplation of nature and to dialectic proper.[86]

This circumstance is of no importance; we see by ourselves which of

his works are really speculative and philosophic, and which are rather

empirical in character; but they are not to be regarded as antagonistic

in their content, and as if Aristotle intended some for the people and

others for his more intimate disciples.

_a._ We have first to remark that the name Aristotelian philosophy is

most ambiguous, because what is called Aristotelian philosophy has at

different times taken very different forms. It first of all signifies

Aristotelian philosophy proper. As regards the other forms of the

Aristotelian philosophy, however, it had, in the second place, at the

time of Cicero, and specially under the name of Peripatetic philosophy,

more of the form of a popular philosophy, in which attention was

principally directed to natural history and to morals (Vol. I. p. 479).

This period does not appear to have taken any interest in working

out and bringing to consciousness the deep and properly speaking

speculative side of Aristotelian philosophy, and indeed with Cicero

there is no notion of it present. A third form of this philosophy

is the highly speculative form of the Alexandrine philosophy, which

is also called the Neo-Pythagorean or Neo-Platonic philosophy, but

which may just as well be called Neo-Aristotelian—the form as it is

regarded and worked up by the Alexandrines, as being identical with

the Platonic. An important signification of the expression, in the

fourth place, is that which it had in the middle ages where, through

insufficient knowledge, the scholastic philosophy was designated

Aristotelian. The Scholastics occupied themselves much with it, but the

form that the philosophy of Aristotle took with them cannot be held by

us to be the true form. All their achievements, and the whole extent of

the metaphysics of the understanding and formal logic which we discover

in them, do not belong to Aristotle at all. Scholasticism is derived

only from traditions of the Aristotelian doctrines. And it was not

until the writings of Aristotle became better known in the West, that

a fifth Aristotelian philosophy was formed, which was in part opposed

to the Scholastic—it arose on the decline of scholasticism and with the

revival of the sciences. For it was only after the Reformation that

men went back to the fountainhead, to Aristotle himself. The sixth

signification which Aristotelian philosophy bears, is found in false

modern ideas and conceptions, such as those that we find in Tennemann,

who is gifted with too little philosophic understanding to be able

to grasp the Aristotelian philosophy (Vol. I. p. 113). Indeed, the

general opinion of Aristotelian philosophy now held is that it made

what is called experience the principle of knowledge.

_b._ However false this point of view on the one hand is, the occasion

for it may be found in the Aristotelian manner. Some particular

passages to which in this reference great importance has been given,

and which have been almost the only passages understood, are made use

of to prove this idea. Hence we have now to speak of the character of

the Aristotelian manner. Since in Aristotle, as we already said (p.

118), we need not seek a system of philosophy the particular parts of

which have been deduced, but since he seems to take an external point

of departure and to advance empirically, his manner is often that

of ordinary ratiocination. But because in so doing Aristotle has a

quality, altogether his own, of being throughout intensely speculative

in his manner, it is further signified that in the first place he

has comprehended the phenomenal as a thinking observer. He has the

world of appearance before himself complete and in entirety, and sets

nothing aside, however common it may appear. All sides of knowledge

have entered into his mind, all have interest for him, and he has

thoroughly dealt with all. In the empirical details of a phenomenon

abstraction may easily be lost sight of, and its application may be

difficult: our progress may be one-sided, and we may not be able to

reach the root of the matter at all. But Aristotle, because he looks at

all sides of the universe, takes up all those units as a speculative

philosopher, and so works upon them that the profoundest speculative

Notion proceeds therefrom. We saw, moreover, thought first proceeding

from the sensuous, and, in Sophistry, still exercising itself

immediately in the phenomenal. In perception, in ordinary conception,

the categories appear: the absolute essence, the speculative view of

these elements, is always expressed in expressing perceptions. This

pure essence in perception Aristotle takes up. When, in the second

place, he begins conversely with the universal or the simple, and

passes to its determination, this looks as if he were enumerating the

number of significations in which it appears; and, after dealing with

them all, he again passes all their forms in review, even the quite

ordinary and sensuous. He thus speaks of the many significations that

we find, for example, is the words οὐσία, ἀρχή, αἰτία, ὁμοῦ, &c. It

is in some measure wearisome to follow him in this mere enumeration,

which proceeds without any necessity being present, and in which the

significations, of which a list is given, manifest themselves as

comprehended only in their essence, or in that which is common to all,

and not in their determinations; and thus the comprehension is only

external. But, on the one hand, this mode presents a complete series of

the moments, and on the other, it arouses personal investigation for

the discovery of necessity. In the third place, Aristotle takes up the

different thoughts which earlier philosophers have had, contradicts

them—often empirically—justifies them, reasoning in all sorts of ways,

and then attains to the truly speculative point of view. And finally,

in the fourth place, Aristotle passes on thoughtfully to consider

the object itself of which he treats, _e.g._ the soul, feeling,

recollection, thought, motion, time, place, warmth, cold, &c. Because

he takes all the moments that are contained within the conception to

be, so to speak, united, he does not omit determinations; he does not

hold now to one determination and then to another, but takes them as

all in one; while reflection of the understanding, which has identity

as the rule by which it goes, can only preserve harmony with this by

always, while in one determination, forgetting and withholding the

other. But Aristotle has the patience to go through all conceptions and

questions, and from the investigation of the individual determinations,

we have the fixed, and once more restored determination of every

object. Aristotle thus forms the Notion, and is in the highest

degree really philosophic, while he appears to be only empiric. For

Aristotle’s empiricism is a totality because he always leads it back

again immediately to speculation; he may thus be said to be a perfect

empiricist, yet at the same time a thinking one. If, for example, we

take away from space all its empirical determinations, the result will

be in the highest degree speculative, for the empirical, comprehended

in its synthesis, is the speculative Notion.

In this gathering up of determinations into one Notion, Aristotle

is great and masterly, as he also is in regard to the simplicity of

his method of progression, and in the giving of his decisions in few

words. This is a method of treating of Philosophy which has great

efficacy, and which in our time has likewise been applied, _e.g._ by

the French. It deserves to come into larger use, for it is a good

thing to lead the determinations of the ordinary conception from an

object to thought, and then to unite them in a unity, in the Notion.

But undoubtedly this method in one respect appears to be empirical,

and that, indeed, in the acceptation of objects as we know them in our

consciousness; for if no necessity is present, this still more appears

merely to pertain to manner externally regarded. And yet it cannot

be denied that with Aristotle the object was not to bring everything

to a unity, or to reduce determinations to a unity of opposites,

but, on the contrary, to retain each in its determination and thus

to follow it up. That may, on the one hand, be a superficial method,

_e.g._ when everything is brought to an empty determinateness, such

as those of irritability and sensibility, sthenic and asthenic, but,

on the other, it is likewise necessary to grasp reality in simple

determinateness, though without making the latter in this superficial

way the starting point. Aristotle, on the other hand, simply forsakes

determination in another sphere where it no longer has this form; but

he shows what it is like here, or what change has taken place within

it, and thus it comes to pass that he often treats one determination

after the other without showing their connection. However, in his

genuine speculation Aristotle is as profound as Plato, and at the

same time more developed and explicit, for with him the opposites

receive a higher determination. Certainly we miss in him the beauty of

Plato’s form, the melodious speech, or, as we might almost call it,

chatting—the conversational tone adopted, which is as lively as it is

cultured and human. But where in Plato we find, as we do in his Timæus,

the speculative Idea definitely expressed in the thesis form, we see in

it a lack both of comprehension and purity; the pure element escapes

it, while Aristotle’s form of expression is marked both by purity and

intelligibility. We learn to know the object in its determination

and its determinate Notion; but Aristotle presses further into the

speculative nature of the object, though in such a way that the latter

remains in its concrete determination, and Aristotle seldom leads

it back to abstract thought-determinations. The study of Aristotle

is hence inexhaustible, but to give an account of him is difficult,

because his teaching must be reduced to universal principles. Thus in

order to set forth Aristotelian philosophy, the particular content

of each thing would have to be specified. But if we would be serious

with Philosophy, nothing would be more desirable than to lecture upon

Aristotle, for he is of all the ancients the most deserving of study.

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