relation of body and soul. “For this reason” (because soul is form)
“we must no more ask if soul and body are one than we ask if wax and
its form are one, or, in general, if matter and its forms are one. For
though unity and Being are used in various senses. Being is essentially
energy.” Were we, namely, to pronounce body and soul one in the same
way that a house, which consists of a number of parts, or as a thing
and its properties, or the subject and predicate, and so on, are
called one, where both are regarded as things, materialism results.
An identity such as this is an altogether abstract, and therefore a
superficial and empty determination, and a term which it is a mistake
to employ, for form and material do not rank equally as regards Being;
identity truly worthy of the name is to be apprehended as nothing else
than energy such as has been described. The only question that now
arises is whether activity and the organ it employs are one; and our
idea is to answer in the affirmative. The more definite explanation of
this relation is to be found in the following; “The soul is substance,
but only according to the Notion (κατὰ τὸν λόγον); but that is the
substantial form (τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι)[96] for such and such a body. For
suppose that an instrument, such as an axe, were a natural body, this
form, this axehood, would be its substance, and this its form would be
its soul, for if this were to be taken away from it, it would no longer
be an axe, the name only would remain. But soul is not the substantial
form and Notion of such a body as an axe, but of a body which has
within itself the principle of movement and of rest.” The axe has not
the principle of its form in itself, it does not make itself an axe,
nor does its form, its Notion, in itself constitute its substance, as
its activity is not through itself. “If, for instance, the eye were
in itself a living thing, vision would be its soul, for vision is the
reality which expresses the Notion of the eye. But the eye, as such, is
only the material instrument of vision, for if vision were lost, the
eye would be an eye only in name, like an eye of stone or a painted
eye.” Thus to the question, What is the substance of the eye? Aristotle
answers: Are the nerves, humours, tissues, its substance? On the
contrary, sight itself is its substance, these material substances are
only an empty name. “As this is the case in the part, so it also holds
good of the body as a whole. The potentiality of life is not in any
such thing as has lost its soul, but in that which still possesses it.
The seed or the fruit is such and such a body potentially. Like hewing
and seeing,” in the axe and the eye, “waking” in general “is activity;
but the corporeal is only potentiality. But as the” living “eye is
both vision and the eyeball” (the two being connected as actuality and
potentiality), “so also are soul and body the living animal, the two
are not to be separated. But it is not yet clear whether the soul is
the activity of the body in the same way as the steersman is of the
ship.” That the active form is the true substance, while matter is so
only potentially, is a true speculative Notion.
As settling the question asked in the above-mentioned metaphor, we may
quote what Aristotle says later (De Anima, II. 4): “As the principle of
motion and as end (οὗ ἕνεκα), and as substance of living bodies, the
soul is the cause. For substance is to all objects the cause of their
existence, but life is the existence of the living, and its cause and
principle is the soul; and further, its energy is the existing Notion
of what has potential existence. The soul is cause also as end,” that
is, as self-determining universality, “for nature, like thought, acts
for the sake of an object, which object is its end, but in living
beings this is soul. All the parts of the body are thus the organs of
the soul, and hence exist for its sake.” In like manner Aristotle shows
that the soul is the cause of motion.
Aristotle (De Anima, II. 2, 3) further states that the soul is to
be determined in three ways, namely as nutrient or vegetable, as
sensitive, and as intelligent, corresponding with plant life, animal
life and human life. The nutrient soul, when it is alone, belongs to
plants; when it is at the same time capable of sense-perception, it is
the animal soul; and when at once nutrient, sensitive and intelligent,
it is the mind of man. Man has thus three natures united in himself; a
thought which is also expressed in modern Natural Philosophy by saying
that a man is also both an animal and a plant, and which is directed
against the division and separation of the differences in these
forms. That difference has also been revived in recent times in the
observation of the organic, and it is highly important to keep these
sides separate. The only question (and it is Aristotle who raises it)
is how far these, as parts, are separable. As to what concerns more
nearly the relation of the three souls, as they may be termed (though
they are incorrectly thus distinguished), Aristotle says of them, with
perfect truth, that we need look for no one soul in which all these are
found, and which in a definite and simple form is conformable with any
one of them. This is a profound observation, by means of which truly
speculative thought marks itself out from the thought which is merely
logical and formal. Similarly among figures only the triangle and the
other definite figures, like the square, the parallelogram, &c., are
truly anything; for what is common to them, the universal figure, is
an empty thing of thought, a mere abstraction. On the other hand,
the triangle is the first, the truly universal figure, which appears
also in the square, &c., as the figure which can be led back to the
simplest determination. Therefore, on the one hand, the triangle stands
alongside of the square, pentagon, &c., as a particular figure, but—and
this is Aristotle’s main contention—it is the truly universal figure.
In the same way the soul must not be sought for as an abstraction, for
in the animate being the nutritive and the sensitive soul are included
in the intelligent, but only as its object or its potentiality;
similarly, the nutritive soul, which constitutes the nature of plants,
is also present in the sensitive soul, but likewise only as being
implicit in it, or as the universal. Or the lower soul inheres only in
the higher, as a predicate in a subject: and this mere ideal is not
to be ranked very high, as is indeed the case in formal thought; that
which is for itself is, on the contrary, the never-ceasing return into
itself, to which actuality belongs. We can determine these expressions
even more particularly. For if we speak of soul and body, we term the
corporeal the objective and the soul the subjective; and the misfortune
of nature is just this, that it is objective, that is, it is the
Notion only implicitly, and not explicitly. In the natural there is,
no doubt, a certain activity, but again this whole sphere is only
the objective, the implicit element in one higher. As, moreover, the
implicit in its sphere appears as a reality for the development of the
Idea, it has two sides; the universal is already itself an actual, as,
for example, the vegetative soul. Aristotle’s meaning is therefore
this: an empty universal is that which does not itself exist, or is not
itself species. All that is universal is in fact real, as particular,
individual, existing for another. But that universal is real, in that
by itself, without further change, it constitutes its first species,
and when further developed it belongs, not to this, but to a higher
stage. These are the general determinations which are of the greatest
importance, and which, if developed, would lead to all true views of
the organic, &c., since they give a correct general representation of
the principle of realization.
α. The nutritive or vegetative soul is therefore, according to
Aristotle (De Anima, II. 4), to be conceived as the first, which
is energy, the general Notion of the soul itself, just as it is,
without further determination; or, as we should say, plant life is the
Notion of the organic. What Aristotle goes on to say of nourishment,
for instance, whether the like is nourished by the like, or by the
opposite, is of little importance. It may, however, be mentioned that
Aristotle (De Anima, II. 12) says of the vegetative soul that it is
related only to matter, and that only after a material manner, as when
we eat and drink, but that it cannot take up into itself the forms of
sensible things: we, too, ourselves in practical matters are related as
particular individuals to a material existence here and now, in which
our own material existence comes into activity.
β. There is more to interest us in Aristotle’s determination of
sense-perception (De Anima, II. 5), as to which I shall make some
further quotations. Sense-perception is in general a potentiality (we
should say a receptivity), but this potentiality is also activity;
it is therefore not to be conceived as mere passivity. Passivity and
activity pertain to one and the same, or passivity has two senses.
“On the one hand a passivity is the destruction of one state by its
opposite; on the other hand, it is a preservation of what is merely
potential by means of what is actual.” The one case occurs in the
acquisition of knowledge, which is a passivity in so far as a change
takes place from one condition (ἕξις) into an opposite condition;
but there is another passivity, in which something only potentially
posited is maintained, therefore knowledge is knowing in an active
sense (_supra_, p. 182). From this Aristotle concludes: “There is one
change which is privative; and another which acts on the nature and the
permanent energy (ἕξις). The first change in the subject of perception
(αἰσθητικοῦ) is caused by that which produces the perception; but,
once produced, the perception is possessed as knowledge (επιστήμη).”
Because that which produces the change is different from the result,
perception is passivity; but it is just as much spontaneity, “and
sense-perception, like knowledge (θεωρεῖν), has to do with this aspect
of activity. But the difference is, that what causes the perception is
external. The cause of this is that perceptive activity is directed
on the particular, while knowledge has as its object the universal;
but the universal is, to a certain extent, in the soul itself as
its substance. Everyone can therefore think when he will,” and for
this very reason thought is free, “but perception does not depend
on him, having the necessary condition that the object perceived be
present.” The influence from without, as a passivity, comes therefore
first; but there follows the activity of making this passive content
one’s own. This is doubtless the correct point from which to view
perception, whatever be the manner of further development preferred,
subjective idealism, or any other way. For it is a matter of perfect
indifference whether we find ourselves subjectively or objectively
determined; in both there is contained the moment of passivity, by
which the perception comes to pass. The monad of Leibnitz appears,
it is true, to be an idea opposed to this, since every monad, every
point of my finger, as atom or individual, is an entire universe, the
whole of which develops in itself without reference to other monads.
Here seems to be asserted the highest idealistic freedom, but it is
of no avail to imagine that all in me develops out of me; for we must
always recollect that what is thus developed in me is passive, and not
free. With this moment of passivity Aristotle does not fall short of
idealism; sensation is always in one aspect passive. That is, however,
a false idealism which thinks that the passivity and spontaneity of
the mind depend on whether the determination given is from within
or from without, as if there were freedom in sense-perception,
whereas it is itself a sphere of limitation. It is one thing when the
matter—whether it be sensation, light, colour, seeing or hearing—is
apprehended from the Idea, for it is then shown that it comes to pass
from the self-determination of the Idea. But it is different when,
in so far as I exist as an individual subject, the Idea exists in
me as this particular individual; there we have the standpoint of
finitude established, and therefore of passivity. Thus there need be
no standing on ceremony with sense-perception, nor can a system of
idealism be based on the theory that nothing comes to us from without:
as Fichte’s theory about himself was, that when he put on his coat, he
constituted it in part by drawing it on, or even by looking at it. The
individual element in sensation is the sphere of the individuality of
consciousness; it is present therein in the form of one thing as much
as of another, and its individuality consists in this fact, that other
things exist for it. Aristotle continues: “Speaking generally, the
difference is that potentiality is twofold; as we say a boy may become
a general, and a grown man may also become so,” for the latter has the
effective power. “This is the nature of the faculty of sense-perception
(αἰσθητικόν); it is in potentiality what the object of sense (αἰσθητόν)
is in actuality. Sense-perception is therefore passive, in so far as
it does not resemble its object, but after the impression has been
made it becomes similar to its object, and is identified with it.”
The reaction of sense-perception consists therefore in this active
receiving into itself of that which is perceived; but this is simply
activity in passivity, the spontaneity which abrogates the receptivity
in sense-perception. Sense-perception, as made like to itself, has,
while appearing to be brought to pass by means of an influence working
on it, brought to pass the identity of itself and its object. If
then subjective idealism declares that there are no external things,
that they are but a determination of our self, this must be admitted
in respect to pure sense-perception, since sense-perception is a
subjective existence or state in me, which yet, however, is not for
that reason freedom.
In speaking of sense-perception, Aristotle (De Anima, II. 12)
makes use of his celebrated simile, which has so often occasioned
misapprehension, because it has been understood quite incorrectly. His
words are: “Sense-perception is the receiving of sensible forms without
matter, as wax receives only the impress of the golden signet ring,
not the gold itself, but merely its form.” For the form is the object
as universal; and theoretically we are in the position, not of the
individual and sensuous, but of the universal. The case is different
with us in our practical relations, where the influence working upon us
pre-supposes in return the contact of the material, for which reason,
as Aristotle asserts, plants do not perceive (_supra_, p. 186). On
the other hand, in receiving form, the material is lost sight of; for
the receiving of form indicates no positive relation to the matter,
which is no longer something offering resistance. If, therefore,
sense-perceptions are termed in general sensuous impressions, we, in
matter-of-fact fashion, do not get beyond this crude way of putting
it; and in making the transition to soul, we take refuge behind
popular conceptions, which are partly ill-defined Notions, and partly
not Notions at all. Thus it is said that all sense-perceptions are
impressed on the soul by external things, just as the matter of the
signet ring works on the matter of the wax; and then we hear it alleged
that this is Aristotle’s philosophy. It is the same with most other
philosophers; if they give any sort of illustration that appeals to
the senses, everyone can understand it, and everyone takes the content
of the comparison in its full extent: as if all that is contained in
this sensuous relationship should also hold good of the spiritual. No
great importance is therefore to be attached to this conception, as it
is only an illustration, professing to show by a side comparison that
the passive element in sense-perception is in its passivity for pure
form only; this form alone is taken up into the percipient subject,
and finds a place in the soul. It does not, however, remain in the
same relation to it as that in which the form stands to the wax, nor
is it as in chemistry where one element is permeated by another as
regards its matter. The chief circumstance, therefore, and that which
constitutes the difference between this illustration and the condition
of the soul is altogether overlooked. That is to say, the wax does not,
indeed, take in the form, for the impression remains on it as external
figure and contour, without being a form of its real Being; if it were
to become such, it would cease to be wax; therefore, because in the
illustration there is lacking this reception of form into the Being,
no thought is given to it. The soul, on the contrary, assimilates this
form into its own substance, and for the very reason, that the soul is
in itself, to a certain extent, the sum of all that is perceived by
the senses (_infra_, p. 198): as it was said above (p. 183), if the
axe had its form in the determination of substance, this form would
be the soul of the axe. The illustration of the wax has reference to
nothing but the fact that only the form comes to the soul; and has
nothing to do with the form being external to the wax and remaining so,
or with the soul having, like wax, no independent form. The soul is by
no means said to be passive wax and to receive its determinations from
without; but Aristotle, as we shall soon see (p. 194), really says that
the spirit repels matter from itself, and maintains itself against it,
having relation only to form. In sense-perception the soul is certainly
passive, but the manner in which it receives is not like that of the
wax, being just as truly activity of the soul; for after the perceptive
faculty has received the impression, it abrogates the passivity, and
remains thenceforth free from it (_supra_, p. 187). The soul therefore
changes the form of the external body into its own, and is identical
with an abstract quality such as this, for the sole reason that it
itself is this universal form.
This description of sense-perception Aristotle explains more fully in
what follows (De Anima, III. 2), and expatiates upon this unity and
its contrasts, in the course of which explanation there appear many
clear and far-reaching glimpses into the Nature of consciousness. “The
bodily organ of each sense-perception receives the object perceived
without matter. Hence, when the object of sense is removed, the
perceptions and the images which represent them remain in the organs.
In the act of sense-perception the object perceived is no doubt
identical with the subject that perceives, but they do not exist[97]
as the same; for instance, sound and the hearing are the same when in
active exercise, but that which has hearing does not always hear, and
that which has sound is not always sounding. When that which is the
potentiality of hearing comes into exercise, and likewise that which is
the potentiality of sound, hearing and sound, being in full activity,
coincide,” they do not remain separate energies. “If then movement
and action, as well as passivity, have a place in the object on which
activity is exercised (ἐν τῷ ποιουμένῳ), it follows necessarily that
the energy of hearing and sound is contained in that which potentially
is hearing, for the energy of the active and moving is in the passive.
As therefore activity and passivity are manifested in the subject
which receives the effect, and not in the object which produces it
(ποιοῦντι), the energy both of the object and of the faculty of
sense-perception is in the faculty itself. For hearing and sounding
there are two words, for seeing only one; seeing is the activity of
the person who sees, but the activity of the colour is without name.
Since the energy of that which is perceived and that which perceives
is one energy, and the aspect they present is alone different, the
so-called sounding and hearing must cease simultaneously.” There is a
body which sounds and a subject which hears; they are twofold in the
aspect they present, but hearing, taken by itself, is intrinsically an
activity of both. In like manner, when I have by sense the perception
of redness and hardness, my perception is itself red and hard: that is,
I find myself determined in that way, even though reflection says that
outside of me there is a red, hard thing, and that it and my finger
are two; but they are also one, my eye is red and the thing. It is
upon this difference and this identity that everything depends; and
Aristotle demonstrates this in the most emphatic way, and holds firmly
to his point. The later distinction of subjective and objective is the
reflection of consciousness; sense-perception is simply the abrogation
of this separation, it is that form of identity which abstracts from
subjectivity and objectivity. What is simple, the soul proper or
the I, is in sense-perception unity in difference. “Further, every
sense-perception is in its organ, and distinguishes everything that is
perceived, like black and white, and so on. It is thus not possible for
separate perceptions, white and sweet, to be distinguished as separate
indifferent moments, for both must be present (δῆλα) to one subject.
This one subject must therefore determine one thing to be different
from another. This, as distinguished, can also not be in a different
place or time, for it must be undivided and in undivided time. But
it is impossible that one and the same thing should be affected by
contrary movements, in so far as it is undivided and in undivided time.
If sweetness affects sense-perception in one way, and bitterness in the
contrary way, and whiteness in yet another way, the power of judging is
numerically not discrete nor divisible, but according to the Notion (τῷ
εἶναι)[98] it is distinguished. That which is the same and indivisible
thus possesses in potentiality opposite qualities; but with its true
existence (τῷ εἶναι) that cannot be the case, for in its activity it
is separable, and cannot at the same time be both white and black.
Sense-perception and thinking are like that which some term a point,
which, in so far as it is one, is inseparable, and in so far as it is
two, is separable. So far as it is undivided, the judging faculty is
one and acts in a single point of time, but so far as it is divided”
(not one) “it employs the same sign twice simultaneously. So far as
it employs two, it by limitation distinguishes two, and separates
them as having separate origin; but so far as it is one, it judges by
one act in one single point of time” (_supra_, p. 172). For as the
point in time, which resembles the point in space, contains future and
past, and thus is something different and at the same time one and the
same, since it is in one and the same respect separation and union;
sense-perception is also one and at the same time separation, separated
and not separated, seeing that the faculty of perception has before
it in one unity the distinct sense-perception, which by this means
receives for the first time a determinate content. Another example is
that of number; one and two are different, and, at the same time, even
in two one is used and posited as one.