CHAPTER II

ARISTOTLE'S PHILOSOPHY

Platon rêvait; Aristote pensait.--Alfred de Musset.

Are God and Nature then at strife

That Nature lends such evil dreams?

--Tennyson.

There are three Essences. Two of these are sensible; one being

eternal, and the other perishable. The latter is admitted by all, in

the form, for example, of plants and animals; in regard to the

former, or eternal one, we shall have to consider its elements, and

see whether they be one or many. The third is immutable [and,

therefore, inaccessible to sense], and this some thinkers hold to be

transcendent.--Aristotle.

The vision of the divine is what is sweetest and best; and if God

always enjoys that vision as we sometimes do, it is wonderful, and

if he does so in a yet higher degree, it is more wonderful still.

And so even it is. And life belongs to him; for the

self-determination of thought is life, and he is self-determination.

And his absolute self-determination is the supreme and eternal life.

And we call God a living being, eternal, best; so that life and

duration, uniform and eternal, belong to God; for this is

God.--_Id._

We must consider in what way the system of the universe contains the

good and the best, whether as something transcendent and

self-determined, or as order. Surely in both ways at once, as in any

army, for which the good is in order, and is the general, and the

latter more than the former. For the general is not due to the

order, but the order to the general.--_Id._

The thought of Aristotle differs from that of Plato both in its method

and in its results. Plato, reared in the school of Pythagoras,

Parmenides, Heraclitus, and Socrates, had, naturally enough, come to

look for truth in the supersensual region of mind, and thought he found

it in ideas attainable by a process of dialectic within the individual

consciousness. He thus came to put forward a doctrine which, despite its

ostensible purpose to cement the bonds of society, in reality tended to

withdraw men from society altogether and increase the very individualism

it was intended to cure. Aristotle, while still in Plato's school, had

turned away from this doctrine, and in after-life he never lost an

opportunity of combating it. He could point to Plato's _Republic_ as a

warning example of its logical consequences. But, in doing this, he was

prepared to put another doctrine in its place, and he did so on the

basis of a profound study of the whole course of Greek thought,

mythological and philosophical.

Instead of appealing, like Plato, to the individual consciousness, and

trying to discover ultimate truth by bringing its data into harmony

among themselves, Aristotle appeals to the historic consciousness, and

endeavors to find truth by harmonizing and complementing its data

through a further appeal to the outer world, in which these data are

realized. He maintains that the truths reached by the dialectic process

are merely formal, and therefore empty,--useless in practice, until they

have been filled by experience from the storehouse of nature. In

consequence of this changed attitude, he sets aside the dialectic

process, and substitutes for it the _Method of Induction_, which he was

the first man in the world to comprehend, expound, and apply, becoming

thus the father of all true science. And he makes a more extensive use

of induction than any other man since his time, applying it in a field

in which even now it is hardly supposed to yield any results, the field

of the common consciousness. Indeed, he everywhere begins his search for

concrete truth by examining the historic consciousness, and, having, by

a process of induction, discovered and generalized its contents, he

turns with these to nature and, by a second induction, corrects,

completes, and harmonizes them. We might express this in modern

language, by saying that his whole endeavor is to correct and supplement

the imperfect human consciousness by a continual appeal to the divine

consciousness, _as manifested in the world_. It is the error of modern

investigators that they employ only one-half of the inductive method,

the objective, and either omit altogether the subjective, or else, like

Plato, apply it only to the individual consciousness. Hence come the

widely divergent results which still meet us in so many of the sciences,

in Politics, Psychology, etc., hence the fact that a great deal of

science, instead of correcting, widening, and harmonizing the common

consciousness, stands altogether apart from it, or even in direct

opposition to it. The man who writes a treatise on Psychology, or on the

Soul, without troubling himself to discover what "Soul" means in the

general consciousness of mankind, and perhaps setting out with an

altogether individual notion of it, can hardly look for any other

result. Aristotle, true to his method of induction, devotes one entire

book of his _Psychology_ to finding out what "Soul" means in the

historic consciousness, unreflective as well as reflective. Then, with

this meaning, he goes to nature, seeks by induction to discover what

she has to say about it, and abides by her reply. Hence it is that his

thought has laid hold upon the world, and influenced it in practical

ways, as no other man's thought has ever done. Hence it is that, of all

ancient men, he is the one before whom the modern scientist bows with

respect.

If we now ask ourselves what was the underlying thought that shaped

Aristotle's theory of induction, what was his _Weltanschauung_, we shall

find it to be this: The divine intelligence reveals itself subjectively

in an historic process in the human consciousness, and objectively[4] in

a natural process in the outer world. Truth for man is the harmony of

the two revelations. It follows directly from this that the scientist

must take impartial account of both. So, for example, if he finds gods

in the historical consciousness, and laws or forces in nature, he has no

right, like the theologian, to merge the latter in the former, or, like

the physicist, to replace the former by the latter. He must retain both

till he can bring them into harmony. Only then does he know either.

Such a philosophy as this, instead of drawing men away from the world of

nature and history, and confining them to the narrow circle of their own

consciousness, of necessity sent them back to that world, as the only

means by which any human well-being could be reached. It is for this

reason that it has so powerfully affected both social life and science.

Nevertheless, we should err greatly, if we supposed that, in

Aristotle's view, the divine is nothing more than an immanent idea,

working as a force-form in nature, and as a thought-form in mind. He

does, indeed, believe that the divine is all this, but not that this is

all the divine there is. Over and above the divine which is determined

in nature and in man, there is the transcendent Mind, or God,

determining himself through himself, and bearing the same relation to

the divine that the sun bears to light, the human mind to human thought,

the general to the order of his army. Here we are far away from

Pantheism, and, though we have not yet risen to a clear conception of

personality, we have at the "helm of the universe" a conscious being,

the source of law and order. And man, rising above the thought whereby

he knows himself through nature, and nature through himself, may enter

into the consciousness of God and become a partaker in that life which

is "sweetest and best." These are the features of Aristotle's thought

which in the thirteenth century made it acceptable to the Christian

Church in her struggle against Pantheism, and which paved the way for

that higher mysticism of which Thomas Aquinas is the most distinguished

exponent--a mysticism which does not, like that of the Neoplatonists and

Buddhists, dispense with thought to lose itself in vacancy, but which,

rising upon a broad basis of knowledge, pierces the clouds of sense, to

find itself in the presence of the most concrete Reality, the

inexhaustible source of all thought and all things.

Aristotle and Ancient Educational Ideals · 第 2 / 7 章