Commentary Aristotle Physics
Lecture 10. The opinions of the ancients about the first principles’ contrariety
All thinkers, then, agree in making the contraries principles, both those who describe the all as one and unmoved (for even Parmenides treats hot and cold as principles under the names of fire and earth) and those too who use the rare and the dense. The same is true of Democritus also, with the substantial and the void, both of which exist, he says, the one as being and the other as non-being.
Again, he speaks of differences in position, shape, and order, and these are genera of which the species are contraries: of position, as above and below or before and behind; and of shape, as angular and angle-less or straight and round.
It is plain, then, that they all in one way or another identify the contraries with the principles.
And with good reason. For first principles must be derived neither from one another nor from anything else, while everything has to be derived from them.
But these conditions are fulfilled by the primary contraries, which are not derived from anything else, since they are primary, nor from each other, since they are contraries.
But we must see how this can be arrived at as a reasoned result as well as in the way just indicated. Our first presupposition must be that, in nature, no contingent thing acts on, or is acted on, by any other contingent thing, nor may anything come from anything else unless we mean that it does so accidentally.
For how could “white” come from “musical” unless “musical” happened to be an accident of the not-white or of the black?
No; “white” comes from “not-white”—and not from just any “not-white,” but from black or some intermediate color.
Similarly, “musical” comes to be from “not-musical,” and not from just any thing other than musical, but from “unmusical” or any intermediate state there may be.
Nor again do things pass into the first contingent thing;
“white” does not pass into “musical” (except maybe accidentally), but into “not-white”—and not into any contingent thing that is not white, but into black or an intermediate color.
“Musical” passes into “not-musical”—and not into any contingent thing other than musical, but into “unmusical” or any intermediate state there may be.
The same holds of other things also: even things that are not simple, but complex, follow the same principle, but the opposite state has not received a name, so we fail to notice the fact. What is harmonious must come from what is inharmonious, and vice versa; harmony passes into inharmony—and not into just any inharmony, but into the corresponding opposite. It does not matter whether we take attunement, order, or composition for our illustration; the principle is obviously the same in all, and in fact applies equally to the production of a house, a statue, or any other complex. A house comes from certain things in a certain state of separation instead of conjunction, a statue (or any other thing that has been shaped) from shapelessness—each of these objects being partly order and partly composition.
If, then, this is true, everything that comes to be or passes away comes from or passes into its contrary or an intermediate state. But the intermediates are derived from the contraries—colors, for instance, from black and white. Therefore, everything that comes to be by a natural process is either a contrary or a product of contraries.
Up to this point, we have practically had most of the other writers on the subject with us, as I have said already, for all of them identify their elements and what they call their principles with the contraries, giving no reason indeed for the theory, but constrained, as it were, by the truth itself.
They differ from one another, however, in that some assume contraries that are more primary, others contraries that are less so; some assume those more knowable in the order of explanation, others those more familiar to sense. For some make hot and cold, or again moist and dry, the causes of generation, while others make odd and even, or again love and strife. These differ from each other in the way mentioned.
Hence, their principles are the same in one sense, but different in another; different certainly, as indeed most people think, but the same according to analogy. For all are taken from the same columns, some of the pairs being wider, others narrower in extent.
In this way, then, their theories are both the same and different, some better, some worse. Some, as I have said, take as their contraries what is more knowable in the order of explanation, others what is more familiar to sense. (The universal is more knowable in the order of explanation, the particular in the order of sense, for explanation has to do with the universal, but sense with the particular.) The great and the small, for example, belong to the former class, but the dense and the rare to the latter. It is clear, then, that our principles must be contraries.
75. Having set forth the opinions of the ancient philosophers concerning the principles of nature, Aristotle here begins to seek the truth.
He seeks it first by way of disputation, proceeding from probable opinions.
Second, at “we will now give” (189b30; [98]), he determines the truth demonstratively.
Concerning the first part, he makes two points.
First, he investigates the contrariety of the principles;
second, at “the next question is” (189a11; [82]), he inquires about their number.
Concerning the first part, he makes three points.
First, he sets forth the opinion of the ancients about the contrariety of the principles.
Second, at “and with good reason” (188a27; [77]), he gives an argument in favor of this position.
Third, at “up to this point” (188b26; [79]), he shows how the philosophers are related to each other in saying that the principles are contraries.
76. He says, therefore, first (188a19) that all of the ancient philosophers posited contrariety in the principles. And he makes this clear by citing three opinions of the philosophers. For some philosophers have said that the whole universe is one immobile being. Of these, Parmenides said that all things are one according to reason but many according to sense. And, to the extent that there are many, he posited in them contrary principles, namely, the hot and the cold. He attributed the hot to fire and the cold to earth.
Second, there was the opinion of the natural philosophers who posited one material and mobile principle. They said that other things come to be from this principle according to rarity and density. Thus, they held that the rare and the dense are principles.
A third opinion was advanced by those who posited many principles. Among them, Democritus held that all things come to be from indivisible bodies that are joined together. And, in this contact with each other, they left a sort of void. Such voids he called pores, as is clear in De generatione 1.8.
Therefore, he held that all bodies are composed of the substantial and the void, that is, the full and the empty. Hence he said that the full and the empty are principles of nature. But he associated the full with being and the empty with non-being. And, although all of these indivisible bodies are one in nature, he said that different things are composed of them according to a diversity of figure, position, and order. Thus, he held that the principles are contraries in the genus of position (such as above and below or before and behind), and also contraries in the genus of figure (such as the straight, the angular, and the circular). The principles also are contraries in the genus of order—namely, prior and posterior—which are not mentioned in the text because they are obvious.
And thus Aristotle concludes, by a sort of induction, that all of the philosophers held that the principles are contraries in some way. He makes no mention of the opinion of Anaxagoras and Empedocles because he has already explained their position at length above. However, they also placed a certain contrariety in the principles when they said that all things come to be through joining and separating, which agree in genus with the rare and the dense.
77. Next, at “and with good reason” (188a27), he gives a probable argument to show that the first principles are contraries. The argument is as follows.
Three things seem to belong to the very definition of principles.
First, they are not from other things.
Second, they are not from each other.
Third, all other things are from them.
But these three things are found in the primary contraries. Therefore, the primary contraries are principles.
Now, in order to understand what he means when he speaks of primary contraries, we must realize that some contraries are caused by other contraries; for instance, the sweet and the bitter are caused by the wet and the dry and the hot and the cold.
Since, however, it is impossible to proceed to infinity, but one must come to certain contraries that are not caused by other contraries, he calls these last contraries the primary contraries.
Now, the three conditions proper to principles mentioned above are found in these primary contraries. For things that are first are manifestly not from others. Moreover, things that are contraries are manifestly not from each other. For even though the cold comes to be from the hot, insofar as that which was previously hot is later cold, nevertheless coldness itself never comes to be from heat, as will be pointed out later.
The third point—precisely how all things come to be from the contraries—we must investigate more carefully.
78. Now, in order to clarify this latter point, he states first that neither action nor passion can occur between things that are contingent in the sense of merely happening to be together, or between things that are contingent in the sense of being indeterminate. Nor does everything come to be from everything, as Anaxagoras said, except perhaps accidentally.
This is first of all seen clearly in simple things. For white does not come to be from musical except accidentally, insofar as white or black happen to be in the musical. But white comes to be per se from the non-white, and not from just any non-white, but from that non-white that is black or some intermediate color.
And in like manner, the musical comes to be from the non-musical, and again not from just any non-musical, but from its opposite, which is called the unmusical—namely, from that which is disposed to be musical but is not—or from some mean between these two. And for the same reason, a thing is not corrupted primarily and per se into just any contingent thing (for instance, the white into the musical) except accidentally. Rather, white is corrupted per se into the non-white, and not into just any non-white, but into black or some intermediate color. And he says the same of the corruption of the musical and of other similar things.
The reason for this is as follows. Whatever comes to be or is corrupted does not exist before it comes to be and does not exist after it is corrupted. Hence it is necessary that what a thing comes to be per se and that into which a thing is corrupted per se be such that it includes in its account the non-being of that which comes to be or is corrupted.
And he shows that the same is true of composite things. He says that the situation is the same with composite things as it is with simple things, but it is more hidden in composite things because the opposites of composite things have no names, as do the opposites of simple things. For the opposite of house has no name, although we give a name to the opposite of white. Hence, if the composite is reduced to something with a name, it will be clear.
For every composite consists of a certain harmony. Now, the harmonious comes to be from the inharmonious, and the inharmonious from the harmonious. And, in like manner, the harmonious is corrupted into the inharmonious (not just any inharmonious, but the opposite).
However, we can speak of the harmonious according to order alone or according to composition. For some wholes consist of a harmony of order, such as an army, while other wholes consist of a harmony of composition, such as a house. And the account of each of these is the same.
It is also clear that all composites come to be from the non-composed; for example, a house comes to be from non-composed things, and the figured from the non-figured. And, in all such things, nothing is involved except order and composition.
Thus, it is clear by induction, as it were, that all things that either come to be or are corrupted come to be from contraries (or from some intermediate between them) or are corrupted into them.
Moreover, intermediates between contraries come to be from the contraries, as the intermediate colors come to be from black and white.
Hence, he concludes that whatever comes to be according to nature either is a contrary, such as white and black, or comes to be from the contraries, such as the intermediates between the contraries.
This, then, is the principal conclusion that he intended to draw, namely, that all things come to be from contraries, which was the third characteristic of principles.
79. Next, at “up to this point” (188b26), Aristotle shows how the philosophers are related in holding that the principles are contraries.
First, he shows how they are related with reference to what drove them to this position.
Second, at “they differ from one another” (188b30; [80]), he shows how they are related in respect to the position itself.
He says, therefore (188b26), as was pointed out above, that many of the philosophers followed the truth to the point where they held that the principles are contraries. Although they indeed held this position, they did not hold it as though moved by some argument, but rather as forced to it by the truth itself. For truth is the good of the intellect, a good toward which the intellect is naturally ordered. Hence, as things that lack knowledge are moved to their ends without reason, so, at times, the intellect of man tends toward the truth by a sort of natural inclination, though it does not perceive the reason for the truth.
80. Next, at “they differ from one another” (188b30), he shows how the previously mentioned philosophers are related in respect to the position itself.
Concerning this, he makes two points.
First, he shows how they differ in holding that the principles are contraries.
Second, at “hence, their principles” (188b35; [81]), he shows how they both differ and agree.
Therefore, he says first that the philosophers who held that the principles are contraries differed in two ways.
First, those who argued reasonably held that the principles are the primary contraries. Others, however, considering the matter less well, held that the principles are posterior contraries. And, of those who appealed to the primary contraries, some considered those contraries that were better known to reason, while others considered those that were better known to sense.
Or it could be said that this second difference explains the first. For those things that are better known to reason are prior simply, whereas those things that are better known to sense are posterior simply but are prior relative to us. However, it is clear that the principles must be prior. Thus, those who judged “prior” according to what is better known to reason held that the principles are those contraries that are prior simply. On the other hand, those who judged “prior” according to what is better known to sense held that the principles are those contraries that are posterior simply.
Hence some held that the hot and the cold are first principles; others, the wet and the dry. And both of these are better known to sense. However, the hot and the cold, which are active qualities, are prior to the wet and the dry, which are passive qualities, because the active is naturally prior to the passive.
But others held principles that are better known to reason. Among these, some held that the equal and the unequal are the principles. For example, the Pythagoreans, thinking that the substance of all things is numbers, held that all things are composed of the equal and the unequal as of form and matter. For they attributed infinity and otherness to the equal, because of its divisibility, but to the unequal they attributed finiteness and identity, because of its indivisibility.
Others, however, held that the cause of generation and corruption is strife and friendship—that is, the cycles of Empedocles—which are also better known to reason. Hence it is clear that the diversity mentioned above appears in these positions.
81. Next, at “hence, their principles” (188b35), he shows how there is also a certain agreement within the differences of the aforementioned positions. He concludes from what he has said above that the ancient philosophers in a way called the same things principles and in a way called different things principles.
For they differed insofar as different philosophers assumed different contraries, as was said above, yet they are the same insofar as their principles were alike according to analogy, that is, proportion. For the principles taken by all of them have the same proportion.
And this is true in three respects.
First, all the principles that they assumed are related as contraries. And thus Aristotle says that they all took their principles from the same columns, that is, columns of contraries. For they all took contraries as their principles, even though the contraries differed. Nor is it remarkable that they took different principles from the columns of contraries. For among the contraries, some contain, as the prior and more common, and others are contained, as the posterior and less common. Hence, one way in which they spoke alike is that all of them took their principles from the order of contraries.
Another way in which they agree according to analogy is as follows. No matter what principles they accepted, one of these principles is better and the other is worse. For example, friendship, the full, and the hot are better, but strife, the void, and the cold are worse. And the same thing is true of the other pairs of contraries. This is so because one of the contraries always has privation joined to it. For the source of contrariety is the opposition of privation and having, as is said in Metaphysics 10.
Third, they agree according to analogy by reason of the fact that they all took principles that are better known. But some took principles that are better known to reason, while others took those better known to sense. Since reason treats the universal and sense treats the particular, universals (such as the great and the small) are better known to reason, while singulars (such as the rare and the dense, which are less universal) are better known to sense.
Then, as a final summary, he concludes with that which he had uppermost in mind, namely, that the principles are contraries.