MARTIN D.

YAFFE
North Texas State University

MYTH AND "SCIENCE"

IN ARISTOTLE'S THEOLOGY*

A tradition has been handed down from the earliest ancients to those after-
wards in the form of a myth that these [.heavens] are gods, and that the
divine surrounds the whole of nature. The remainder has since been added
mythically for the persuasion of the many and for use in the laws and in
matters of convenience; for they speak of these [gods] as human-looking
and like some of the other animals, and various things follow from and
are dose eo what has been narrated, of which if someone were to separate
and grasp only the very first thing--that the first substances were thought
to be gods then he might believe it to have been narrated divinely, and
that while in all likelihood each art and philosophy have often been dis-
covered as far as possible and again have decayed, just those opinions of
them have been preserved as remnants until now. So the ancestral opinion
[received] from the first [thinkers] is apparent to us to such an extent only.
--Aristotle, Metaphysics 1074a37-b14

I
God, argues Aristotle, is the purpose or final cause of nature. This doctrine
has puzzled modern readers. Some, like J. H. Randall, Jr., see in Aristotle's
theology little more than a modified appeal to the traditional anthro-
pomorphisms of Greek mythology. 1 Others, like W . D . Ross, acknowledge
briefly Aristotle's "scientific" intent, but remain dissatisfied with his sug-
gestion, as they view it, of an unconscious teleology in nature. 2 Neither
Ross' nor Randall's assessment, we shall argue, is altogether accurate. Ross
exaggerates in describing Aristotle's God as "so remote from popula r
religious ideas that no dement of accommodation to the intelligence or the
prejudice of his audience is to be suspected. ''a Randall, on the other hand,
incorrectly minimizes the intellectual content of Aristotle's theology. Instead
we propose a compromise view. We wish to confirm (pace Ross) Aristotle's
manifest "accommodation to the intdligence . . . of his audience," though
(pace Randall) on strictly philosophical grounds.

" This paper was w r i t t e n with the help of a g r a n t from the North Texas State U n i v e r s i t y
Organized Research Fund.

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II
Against Ross, we cannot ,but notice an "dement of accommodation" in
Aristotle's proof of God in Metaphysics A. Ross implies that Aristotle
succeeds in relying entirely on the doctrine of substance enunciated through-
out the Methaphysics. However, Ross overlooks Aristotle's remark that his
proof contains an inherent "perplexity" (apor~a).4 The perplexity concerns
Aristotle's preliminary argument for the necessity of a continuously moving
substance, as the originating and sustaining cause of all natural movement.
How would such a substance have the necessarily constant "activity"
(energeia) ?~ Aristotle's reply is to identify the continuously moving sub-
stance with the "first heaven" or outermost sphere of contemporary astron-
omers. But he is then able to infer that sphere's eternally unmoved mover,
or God, only in language equally describing human activity. "The desirable
and the intelligible move thus," he states; "they move unmoved. ''s It
follows that Aristotle's unmoved mover is none other than a living, active
intelligence, which moves the first sphere "as something longed for" (has
erdmenon), r But, as Randall suggests, does not Aristotle thereby resolve his
"perplexity" anthropomorphically, rather than "scientifically," by simply
elevating human desire and intdligence to theological prominence ?s
Randall's view gains support from Aristotle's epilogue to Metaphysics A,
8. 9 There Aristotle identifies anthropomorphism, or the opinion that the
gods are "human-looking" (anthrapoeideis), with myth. Aristotle assodates
myth with "the persuasion of the many," espedally in laws and matters of
political convenience. We must agree with Randall that myths have legiti-
mate practical uses for Aristotle, assuming at any rate the legitimacy of the
opinions which they endorse. Nevertheless, Randall overlooks the fact that
Aristotle's present concern is rather to demythologize. Aristotle states that
he wishes his reader to "separate and grasp" only the opinions of those
whom he calls the "earliest ancients," who t~elieved that the divine sur-
rounds the whole of nature, and to ignore the anthropomorphic additions
of subsequent Greek mythmakers. True, Aristotle also speaks of the "ear-
liest" belief as a myth, or more precisely as having been "handed down . . .
in fl~e form of a myth." But Randall fails to analyze the content of
Aristotle's revision of that "myth" in terms which are recognizably Aris-
totelian, i.e., "sdentific." For example, Randall does not explain why Aris-
totle departs from the inherited mythology just to the extent of making
the ali-embradng divine a pure intelligence.

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Unlike Randall or Ross, then, we wish to indicate that Aristotle's theology

remains "sdentific" as well as "mythical." This combination is not wholly
without precedent, notably in the Socratic dialogues of Aristotle's teacher,
Hato. There, it would appear, "myth" often enters where "science" fails,
and vice versa. What unifies them is an intention which we describe as
protreptic. Protreptic speech or writing, in the philosophical sense, provides
neither "scientific" nor "mythical" doctrines as such. Instead, it aims at
encouraging an audience which is open to the possibility of "science" to
become more "sdentific," i.e., philosophicalY~ So, too, we woald argue,
Aristotle's theological argument aims primarily at introducing and exhorting
his reader to "science," rather than at purveying either "scientific" or
"mythical" doctrines ready-made.
We therefore require a dearer notion of what is and is not "scientific"
in Aristotle's argument than either Randall or Ross provides. Aristotle's
theological "science," we shall argue, is deliberately modeled on the pro-
ductive arts. Like art (technd), "science" for Aristotle means knowledge of
causes. Read protreptically, then, Aristotle's argument that God is the final
cause of natural movement introduces the reader to the broad scope and
limits of his analogy with the arts. We find support for this view, first, in
Aristotle's own introduction to his theology as a whole, in Metaphysics A,
which begins by equating "science" with art. Second, we find support in
Aristotle's own definition of "nature," in Physics B, which stand or falls
by his analogy with the arts, and treats final causes accordingly. Finally, we
find support in Aristotle's careful separation of "science" from "myth" in
Metaphysics A, which subordinates .both to his further, protreptic intention.

III
Metaphysics A, 1-2, introduces the reader to Aristotle's so-called "science"
of ,wisdom." In the course of that introduction, we find that the "science"
and the "wisdom" in question are deliberately modeled on the activities of
artisans. Aristotle argues as follows: First, he equates "science" (epist~m~)
with "art." Second, he identifies "wisdom" (sophia) primarily with the
wisdom of artisans. Hnally, he is then able to depreciate the competing
wisdom of poets, o,r mythmakers, except insofar as myth originates in a
common wonderment (to thaumazein).
In the first place, Aristotle's equation of "science" with "art" follows
his discussion of the proposition, "All men by nature desire to know. T M

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Aristotle proves this proposition by induction. He adduces a hierarchy of

kinds of knowledge acquired by human beings: sensation, memory, ex-
perience, art, wisdom. Sensation, especially sight, gives rise to: memory in
some animals, though not all. Memory alongside sensation enables those
animals to learn more and to become more prudent. Experience, largely
distinctive of human beings, is the connecting of many memories of the
same thing. Art, which is altogether distinctive of human beings, differs
from experience. The difference is that experience gives knowledge of
individual things only, whereas art includes the additional ability to con-
ceive something common among like individuals--their common aspect or
"look" (eidos). TM This common aspect is a "cause" (aitia) of individual
things, in one meaning of the term. Only insofar as artisans grasp the
causes does Aristotle equate their knowledge, unlike mere experience, with
"science."
Now Aristotle's modern reader may will hesitate to follow his differ-
entiating between art and experience. Like Hume, 1~ he may ask: Does not
knowledge of causes ultimately reduce to a matter of experience? Practi-
cally speaking, as Aristotle allows, experience and art seem hardly differ-
ent. x* In fact, artisans themselves require experience to apply their knowl-
edge succesfully to individual cases. Yet for Aristotle the difference be-
tween experience and art is not an entirely practical one. Knowing the
causes of what they do, artisans stand in the same relation to men of experi-
ence as master-artisans to manual artisans. A manual artisan (e.g., a car-
penter) may do more than a master-artisan (e.g., an architect) in building
a house; nevertheless, the master-artisan must know more. Otherwise he
could not instruct the manual artisan about what to do. Similarly, Aristotle's
distinguishing art from experience does not derive from his considering
their practical accomplishments alone. Aristotle appeals instead to the know-
er's willingness to guide practical accomplishments by "scientific" thought.
Likewise, in the second place, Aristotle defines "wisdom" in relation
to the arts. Wisdom, the end of Aristotle's hierarchy of kinds of knowledge,
is found proportionately in the more intellectually demanding, if less useful
arts. 15 Aristotle recalls the unnamed inventors of arts, whose discoveries
went beyond what was then common sense. These inventors, we are told,
were wondered at (thaumazesthai) by human beings, not only for there
being something useful in the things discovered, but as wise and different
from others,a6

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Here too Aristotle finds it possible to consider the "wisdom" of artisans

apart from the sheer practical utility of their discoveries. This is confirmed
by his account of the earlier progress of the artsY Three classes of arts
are distinguished in the order in which they arose: first, those arts aiming
at practical utility; seco.nd, those arts aiming at pleasure or diversion; third,
what Aristotle calls the "free" or "liberal" arts. x8 These last include the
mathematical arts, said to have been "established ''19 by Egyptian priests
at their leisure. Aristotle leaves us to infer that, as inventors of pleasure-
giving arts are always considered wiser than inventors of necessary arts, so
too inventors of liberal arts are considered wisest of all. However this may
be, only following the progressive refinement of the arts, and the leisure
which they provide, does Aristotelian "wisdom" come to sight.
But Aristotle speaks of "wisdom" here o.nly as a "science [which] we
are searching for" (z~tournen).2'~ He makes an effort to infer the causes and
"beginnings" (archas) :=1which would constitute his "science." But he suc-
ceeds only tentatively, by reference to commonplace "conceptions" about
wisdom derived from the arts. Each conception merely suggests, but does
not conclusively demonstrate, something further about the nature of "wis-
dom." In this respect, Aristotelian "wisdom" lacks the certainty of the
previously established arts. "Wisdom" is "established" here only by the
following speculative inferences. First, as the artisan knows all things
within the scope of his art, though not in individual detail, so "wisdom" is
necessarily the most general knowledge of things. == Second, as the artisan
knows difficult things, over and above what is commonly known through
the senses, so "wisdom" concerns only universals, which are remote from
the senses. ~3 Third, as the simpler and more exact arts (e.g., arithmetic)
are considered wiser than derivative ones (e.g., geometry), so "wisdom"
must be about "first things. ''24 Similarly, as artisans able to teach the
causes are wiser, so "wisdom" would theorize about causes. -~s Further, as
ares chosen for the sake of knowledge are considered wiser than those
chosen for their practical consequences, so "wisdom" would concern those
first causes which, knowable in themselves (like the causes in any art),
explain all other things, =6 Lastly, as master-arts are wiser than subordinate
arts, so "wisdom" must be chief (archikotatd) among the sciences, and know
the purpose or good of each thing, induding "what is best (to ariston) in
all nature. ''27 In short, Aristotle's "wisdom" here stands or falls with the
validity of his speculative inferences from the arts.

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In the third place, Aristotle accompanies his inferences from the arts by
a depreciation of the competing wisdom of the poets or mythmakers. He
remains indebted to myth for raising the question of wisdom. Myth, like
"wisdom," originates in wonderment (to thaumazein).2s In this respect, the
"lover of myth" (philomythos) is also a "lover of wisdom" (philosophos).
Yet Aristotle's "wisdom," unlike poetry, is not a productive (po~dtike) art
but, as he calls it, a "free" art. By this Aristotle seems to mean that it
aims neither at practical utility nor at pleasure or diversion, but exclusively
at freeing oneself from ignorance in general. Perhaps for this reason,
Aristotle does not ultimately draw his description of "wisdom" from myth,
but rather from the wonderment and perplexity traditionally characterizing
philosophy :

Foz human beings began to philosophize, both now and at first, through
wonderment, wondering from the beginning at strange things dose at hand,
then proceeding little by little and becoming perplexed about greater things,
e.g., about the phases (pathdmat6n) of the moon, and those concerning
the sun and the stars, and about the origin (genesis) of everything.29
Though myth and the other arts may share some of philosophy's wonderment
and perplexity, "philosophy" here appears to carry the literal meaning of a
"fondness" (philia) for "wisdom" (sophia) as such, rather than its pre-
sumed acquisition. Lacking the practical accomplishments common to other
arts, philosophy's "wisdom" is thus characterized only by its continuing
wonderment and perplexity. In this sense, Aristotle's "wisdom," like philos-
ophy's, would remain a "science" for which "we are [still] searching. ''a~
At the same time, Aristotle oppose the anti-intellectualism of the poetic
myths. He rejects their view that the wisdom which he seeks may not be
acquired by human beings, whose nature is in many ways unfree, al Whereas
the myths would reserve the wisdom in question to a jealous God, Aristotle
agrees only that it must be divine :

For a God seems to be among the causes of everything, and to be a be-

ginning, and a God would have this [science] either alone or above all. a2
Aristotle's revision of the myths thereby depends on his afor
analogy with the arts. He minimizes the affinity between "wisdom" and
myth, in favor of that between "wisdom" and "science." "All those
[aforementioned arts or sdences] are more necessary," he adds, "but none
is better. T M By implication, Aristotle denies that the "sciences," though

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originating in wonderment, would eliminate the need for further wonder-

ment once their knowledge of causes is acquired. Nor is this contradicted
by Aristotle's concluding examples of pre-"scientific" wonderment. For
example, anyone who has not yet observed (the&dkosi) the causes of self-
moving marionettes, of the solstices, or of the incommensurability of the
diagonal with the side of a square, would wonder at their possibility. But
such wonderment need never cease. Aristotle says of this last example that
a geometer who has demonstrated the incommensurability of the diagonal
would then "wonder (thaumgseien) at nothing so much as whether the
diagonal were to become commensurate. T M The suggestion is not merely
that the incommensurability, once demonstrated, no longer occupies the
geometer's immediate wonderment. For that incommensurability may only
be demonstrated indirectly--as by a reductio ad impossibfle proof, to which
Aristotle refers elsewhere--so that the "cause" in question remains not
directly observed.3~ Thus, even in this example, the occasion for further
wonderment over the implications of the proof continues.
In summary, then, Aristotle's Metaphysics A, 1-2, identifies "science"
with the intellectual aspect of the arts. Disregarding the practical results
or products of the arts, Aristotelian "science" investigates only the causes
of things as such. Aristotle thereby substitutes the philosopher's continuing
wonderment or perplexity about the causes of nature as a whole for the
traditional wisdom of the poetic myths. In all this, however, there is no
evidence that nature's causes have ye~ been fully discovered or, even if
discovered, eliminate all further wonderment. Perhaps this is what Aristotle
means by calling wisdom a "theoretical" (or "speculative") science. He
appeals to the reader's experience of theorizing in more practical and
productive contexts. Yet by emphasizing the continual wonderment and
perplexity common to all "science," Aristotle's argument appears to have
the protreptic design of freeing the reader from reliance on the merely
practical and productive results of "science," in order to direct him toward
theorizing as such.

IV
Aristotle's protreptic intent is similarly evident in his definition of "nature"
in Physics B. He elaborates the definition with frequent examples from the
arts. In the course of his elaboration, he introduces a curious example from
the art of medicine. "Nature" is compared to a doctor healing himself, a~

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This example is immediately pronounced faulty, and its defect shown. Later
in Physics B, however, the very same example is repeated, with the assertion
that is indeed the most evident comparision for how final causes work in
nature. In what follows, we wish to clarify the protreptic intent of
Aristotle's definition of "nature" by considering his use of this and other
examples in some detail.
Aristotle defines "nature" by comparision with art. "Nature" is a

beginning (archd) and cause of the movement and rest by which something
(tinos) first begins-to-subsist (hyparchei) of its own accord (kath' hauto)
and not as a concomitant [or "consequence" of something else, i.e., "acci-
dentally"] (kata symbebd/eos), ar

This definition requires further illustration. What is "by nature" (physei)

is distinguished from what is "from art" (apa techn&), aS The former in-
cludes animals and their parts., plants, and "simple bodies" (air, fire, earth,
water). The latter includes beds, coats, houses, statues, bowls, ships, walls,
etc. Both "natural" and artificial things undergo movement and rest, or
change (e.g., change of place, of size, of quality). The distinction between
"natural" and artificial change concerns only the "beginnings" (archai) or
causes of the change. The causes of artifidal change are artisans. That is,
artifacts are manifestly made by human beings who know and practice
an art. For example, Beds and coats are products of changes initiated by
carpenters and tailors. On the other hand, "natural" things change inde-
pendently of human knowledge and practice. It goes without saying that,
for example, the "natural" changes in stones and earth have no human cause.
Despite this, "natural" changes resemble artificial ones. For this reason,
knowledge of them for Aristotle requires something like the knowledge
possessed by artisans.
How does Aristotle's example of a doctor healing himself help us know
the causes of "natural" change "scientifically"? In causing change in an
individual {hing or substance (ousia), "nature" functions like art. Obvi-
ously, no artisan standing outside the "natural" substance causes it to
change. Rather, as Aristotle's definition stipulates, whatever causes the
"natural" change must somehow belong to the substance itself (kath' hauto).
Yet the question remains how such belonging is to be understood. Aristotle's
guidelines for answering this question "sdentificalIy" are analogous to those
of any artisan with a claim to "science." He therefore looks to the arts

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continually for "scientific" guidance. Here, the example of the doctor

healing himself seems a dose comparison for understanding the causes of
a "natural" or self-changing thing. For, in this example, the cause of the
change (a human individual) is the same as the result (the same human
individual). Still, the comparison between "natural" change and a doctor
who heals himself is defective, assuming that there is something called the
art of medicine, which not all patients happen to possess. The defect is
that, from the viewpoint of the art as such, the doctor-patient relationship
need not belong within the same individual. But the knower of "nature"
must account for precisely that "natural" togetherness of agent and patient
within the substance in question. Otherwise he could hardly become as
"scientific" about "natural" substances, mut~tis mutandis, as artisans are
about their own products.
That Aristotle himself may not have succeeded entirely in this regard
is indcated by an unresolved controversy which he reports over what the
"nature" within each substance is. a9 According to one view, the "nature'"
of each substance is its "material" (hyl~). According to an opposing view,
it is its "look" (eidos) or shape (morph~). Both views stand or fall by
reference to the arts. According to the view that the "nature" is the material,
"nature" relates to the individual substance which changes by itself as does
the artisan's material to the artifact which he makes. For example, the wood
which is the "material" of a bed precedes the making of the bed, and
remains so long as the bed continues to exist. Even afterwards, if a broken-
down bed were planted in the ground, and its remains had the power to
sprout, then wood would begin to grow, and not a new bed. Similarly, on
this view, "nature" is
the first underlying material of each of the things having in themselves a
beginning (archd) of movement and change? '~
"Nature" in this sense has been variously identified with the simple bodies
(earj:h, fire, air, water) of which everything else is said to be composed.
On the other hand, according to the view that the "nature" is the form,

just as "art" is said of what is according to art and the artificial, so too
"nature" is said of what is according to nature and the natural. 41
For example, a pile of wood, which does not yet have the "look" (eidos)
of a bed, is a bed only "in potential" (dynamei), but not yet an artifact
properly speaking. So, too, in the case of "natural" things:

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what is flesh or bone in potential (dynamef) does not yet have its nature,.
until it gets the look (eidos) in accord with the account (logon) which we
give in defining what flesh or bone is. 42
Whether Aristotle believes his inferences from the arts to have finally re-
solved the controversy between "nature" as "look" or shape and "nature'"
as material may be doubted. For he continues to speak of "nature" ambig-
uously. 4a Part of the ambiguity, at least, lies in the very reference to the
arts by which "nature" is understood. Aristotle's repeated reference to the
example of the doctor here suggests the difficulty of deriving "nature"
from art. Whereas the doctor begins from a grasp of his art, and proceeds
fro.m there to produce health, the knower of "nature" would sped: of
things still in the process of growth, from which he can only infer an
original material or a completed shape. 4'4 Evidently Aristotle's physics, like
his theology, remains in no way a "productive" (poidtikd) but merely a
"speculative" (theSretikd) project.
Nor does Aristotle's statement that "art imitates nature ''~5 restive the
ambiguity of whether "nature" is the material or the "look" alone. Aristotle
argues that artisans subordinate their knowledge of both the material and'
the "look" to a further knowledge of purpose, or final cause. For example,.
the doctor knows both the "look" of health and its materials (bile, phlegm,
etc.) in terms of his purpose, which is to produce health. Similarly, the
carpenter knows both the "look" of the house and its "materials" (e.g.,
stones and wood) in terms of his intended product. *e Yet, even in the
arts, the notion of purpose remains ambiguous. For example, the purpose
of a rudder is said to be known both by the hdmsman who uses it, and
by the builder who makes it. *~ But the builder of the rudder knows its
purpose primarily in relation to the given material (i.e., why that wood is
suitable for the purpose of the rudder), while the user knows the purpose
primarily in relation to the rudder's "look" or shape. A third "sde,Ke,"
which would know the purpose of both the material and the "look" oc
shape equally, seems missing here. It follows that "nature's" ambiguity is
not simply resolved by an appeal to the arts. On the contrary, the "nature'"
which the arts would imitate is considerably more subtle and elusive.
Why then does Aristotle wish to "reduce" (anagein) nature to four
causes ? To judge by his own examples, the four causes--material, formal,
efficient, and final--are little more than customary modes of explanation
in the arts. Thus, for the material cause the examples are the bronze of a

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statue and the silver of a bowl. 4's For the formal cause, the example is a
ratio two-to-one of the musical octave.~9 For the efficient cause, the
examples indude, generally, "the [human] maker of what is made, and
the changer of what is changed. ''5~ And for the final cause, the example
is health, as the cause of walking, of weight-redudng, or purging, of drugs,
and of surgical instruments? 1 Aristotle's argument for the application of
these causes to "nature," however, is protreptic or, as he puts it, "for the
sake of having insight":

For since the undertaking (pragmateia) is for the sake of having insight
(eFdenai), and we do not think we have insight into each thing beforehand
until we grasp the "why" (to alia ti) of each (and this is to grasp the first
cause), it is plain that we must also do this even about genesis and decay
and all natural change--thereby, having insight into their beginnings
(archaO, we might try to reduce (anagein) each of the things being sought
(z~toumen~n) to these? 2
In other words, to argue that the four causes might apply to "nature" does
not necessarily oversimplify. On the contrary, it indicates "nature's" per-
plexing character. Aristotle reminds his reader that any natural thing may
have several causes--even more than four, considering that each cause
may be spoken of either as a particular, or generically, or even in terms
of a subsequent property of it, and this also generically; and moreover,
all such causes may be either potential or active. To take one's bearings
by the four causes, then, merely suggests to the would-be investigator that
the "nature" which he seeks may yet lie within the reach of a human grasp.
Accordingly, Aristotle's own examples from the arts are themselves pro-
treptic devices, which allow the reader to practice distinguishing the causes
in the arts in order to prepare him for the still further perplexities of
"nature." For "one should always seek (z~tdn) the most exact cause of
each thing, just as in the case of the other [sciences]. ''~a
Aristotle's treatment of "chance" is likewise protreptic. Though "chance"
is not strictly part of his definition of "nature," Aristotle nevertheless
wishes to understand it as "scientifically" as possible. Yet his discussion is
"scientific" only in being comparable to that of an artisan viewing his own
produce. He gives the example of a house built by a man who is "by chance"
white, or musical. 5'4 Properly speaking (kath' hauto), the causes of the house
can be understood only in terms of the art of housebuilding. Whether the
housebuilder is also white, or musical, is strictly % matter of coincidence"
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 ARISTOTLE'S THEOLOGY
([eata symbeb~kos), i.e., a "concomitant" or "consequence" (symbebd/eos)
of something other than his art. 5-5 "Chance" relates similarly to "nature."
On the one hand, "chance" may appear as favorable and unfavorable
coincidence, or "fortune"; for example, fresh air or solar heat may favor
health, despite the absence of the art of medidne?" Favorable coincidence
here accomplishes what art or "nature" also intends but fails to accomplish
alone (kalh' haato). On the other hand, "chance" is also said to occur
generally as random coincidence, or what Aristotle calls "the automatic"
(to automaton); for example, a wandering horse may "automatically" (i.e.,
mindlessly) return home, or a falling tripod "automatically" (i.e., un-
expectedly) land erect? r Random coincidence here brings about what
neither art nor "nature" as such would accomplish or seriously intend, in
the language of the arts, Aristotle is thus able to understand "chance': (or
coincidence) "scientifically" as an efficient cause which lacks a final cause~
Beyond that, "chance" would remain for him "scientifically" unknowable.
In modern jargon, though "nature" is ontologically prior to the arts
for Aristotle, the arts remain epistemologically prior. They define from
the outset what Aristotle understands by "science." The shortcomings of
Aristotle's analogies with the arts are therefor tantamount to those of
"science" as such. Differently stated, Aristotle gives his reader no evidence
to ensure his being as successful in discovering the causes of "natural"
things which men do not make as artisans are about things which they do.
He only encourages that attempt. Accordingly, his own presentation of
"science" is deliberately incomplete and, as we would say, "speculative."
His frequent references to the ar~s remind the reader that "science," as
he understands it, is a continuing activity rather than a finished result. For
this reason, he returns, protreptically, to such inadequate examples as that
of a doctor healing himself. The examples say less about tile causes of "na-
ture" as such than about how those causes must be approached by the would-
be knower. In Aristotle's view, "nature's" activity, like the doctor's, would
remain unknown to human beings who, after all, do not themselves
cause that activity--except through their continuing "scientific" inference
and observation (the&in): ~8
In describing Aristotle's treatment of "nature" as protreptic, we thereby
oppose those who would speak of Aristotelian "system. ''s9 "System" suggests
an overall necessity governing natural substances. But Aristotle:himself
distinguishes only two kinds of necessity in "nature," simple and'hypo-
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thetical, neither of which is compatible with such a "system." In the first

place, "simple" necessity is equivalent to a material cause without a final
cause. But obviously Aristotle holds simple necessity "scientifically" in-
adequate. It is, he says,
as if someone were to believe that a wall originates out of necessity--that
what is heavy is by nature carried downwards, and what is light towards the
top, therefore the stones and the foundations downward, the [clay] earth
above, through being lighter, and the word towards the top; for it is the
lightest. ~o
As in the builder's art, the materials as such, while necessary, cannot be
the sufficient cause. On the contrary, the very relevance of the materials,
whereby they are known to be "of necessity" or not, is established only
"by a supposition" (ex hypathe&). 61 Nor, in the second place, does the
"hypothetical" necessity supposed by the artisan originate in the materials
all by themselves. It depends in addition on the artisan's thought or speech
(log~i), in "supposing" those materials necessary for his purpose. For,
just as in things according to art, since the house is of this sort, those things
should, of necessity, originate and come-to-exist (genesthai ka~ hyparchein),
and since health is this, other things should, of necessity, originate and
come-to exist--so too, if a human being is this, then those things; and if
those, then [other things too, etc.]. 6:2
In terms Of practical or productive results, Aristotle implies, the artisan's
achievement of his purpose necessarily depends on the materials; but "scien-
tifically," his understanding of those materials as such necessarily depends
on their having a purpose. Similarly, Aristotle's claim that purpose is prior
to necessity in "nature" is, in this way, strictly "scientific."

u
The "sdentific" ingredient of Metaphysics A, likewise derives from Aris-
totle's analogy with the arts. We cannot therefore agree with Ross' denying
Aristotle's "accommodation to the intelligence or the prejudices of his
audience." On the contrary, Aristotle continues to appeal to his audience's
identifying "science," or knowledge of causes, with the arts. The theological
questions which he raises in Metaphysics A, 6-10, are thus no less "scientific"
than his definition of "nature" in Physics B. These questions indude the
following :
1. What "substance" (ousia) underlies all "natural" change (A, 6)?
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 ARISTOTLE'S THEOLOGY

2. How does that "substance" itself change (A, 7) ?

3. How many such "substances" must be supposed (A, 8) ?
4. What is God's "activity" (energeia) here (A, 9)?
5. Is God transcendent, or immanent in "nature" (A, 10) ?
However, though these questions remain "scientific," Aristotle's answers
also appeal to the traditional anthropomorphisms of the poetic myths, as
Randall suggests. Against Randall, we simply observe that Aristotle does
not confuse myth with "science." On the contrary, he subordinates both his
"scientific" questions and his "mythical" answers to his further, protreptic
intention. In what follows, we shall show Aristotle's protreptic design in
his answers to each of the aforementioned questions.
First, Aristotle's answer to the question of what "substance" underlies
all "natural" change (A, 6) is "scientific," but inconclusive. His aim, as
elsewhere, is to account for "natural" change as "scientifically" as artisans
understand changes in artifacts. As in the arts, the "beginnings" of "natural"
change are understood in terms of an underlying "substance." The differ-
ence here is that changes in "natural" things, unlike those in artifacts, are
continuous. Aristotle must therefore suppose a single "substance" whose
continuous change underlies all other "natural" change. As we have seen,
he identifies this "substance" with the continuously moving "first heaven"
or outermost sphere of contemporary astronomers. At the same time, he
opposes the views of other theologians and physicists. These others assume
an unintelligible "material" underlying the heavenly sphere's "activity.'"
Following the poets, they speak of this "material" as "night," or "chaos: ''6~
For Aristotle, however, it is more "scientific" to say that the sphere's
"activity" functions prior to or, independently of, any such "material." Yet
Aristotle's own reasoning is "scientific" only by virtue of an inconclusive
analogy:

how will [the sphere] be moved, unless there will be some cause in
activity ? For wood (hyId) does not move itself, but the carpenter d o e s . . . 6 ,
That is, only as the carpenter's activity is prior to changes in his given
material, must we also suppose that the assertion of the prior "activity" of
the heavenly sphere has any "scientific" validity. Aristotle's "scientific"
reasoning here is no more conclusive than in PhysicsB.
Aristotle's further answer to the question of how the heavenly sphere
moves itself (A, 9) is not only "scientifically" inconclusive but, as we

83
 MARTIN D. YAFFE
have already noted, deliberately anthropomorphic. "Sdentifically" sPealdng ,
the sphere is said to move itself by being attracted to God, or the divine
intelligence, as its final cause. BUt Aristotle gives no explidt analogies
with the arts for this. On the contrary, his language is almost that of the
poetic myths. God, we are told, enjoys a continually active intdligence or
alertness (nous).~ Human beings "by nature" long for this "activity"
(energeia), but achieve it only intermittently. The heavenly sphere is
moved by the same, quasi-human longing (h& eramenon), except that
its "activity" resembles the divine more in being continuous. Surely Aris-
to,tle's reader must wonder whether this obvious anthropomorphism is
superior to the traditional "night" or "chaos." The only superiority, we
suggest, lies in Aristotle's not being'anti-"scientific." That is, Aristotle's
"myth" is intended to suggest that the heavenly sphere may yet remain oFen
m human intelligibility, despite sophisticated poets', theologians', and physi-
cists' views to the contrary. Aristotle therefore accompanies his own "myth"
with a highly protreptic, if ironic, argument:

if God is as well-off always as we are sometimes, it is worthy of wonder

(thaumaston); and if better-off, then more worthy of wonder (thaumas-
leron) .~s
Unlike the other poets, theologians, and physicists, as he presents them,
Aristotle wishes simply to provide some plausible 67 basis for his readers'
continuing wonderment, in the manner of a philosopher.
Similarly, Aristotle's answer to the question of the number of heavenly
spheres (A, 8) remains protreptic. Consider the following contradiction.
On the one hand, Aristotle remarks that, so far, "nothing has been demon-
strated with serious demonstrative [capacity]. ''68 On the other hand, he
promises to derive his answer "from what has been assumed and distin-
guished" already (ek t~n hypo[~eimen3n kai di&ismen~n). ~9 Both remarks,
besides being mutually contradictory, are highly ambiguous. Do they refer
to the "scientific" 'arguments which Aristotle himself adduces ? Or do they
refer to the arguments of other theologians and physicists? Or perhaps
they'r6f6r to ~ 6 traditional. myths, which Aristotle examines in the afore-
mentioned epilogue to this chapter ? However this may be, neither the ambi-
guity nor the contradiction impairs Aristotle'sprotreptic aim. For that aim is
not to solve all' the "perplexities,'" but simply "not to overlook (lanthanein)
but to remember (memndsthd)" :themY'~For example, in order to account for
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 ARISTOTLE'S T H E O L O G Y

all the apparent movements o,f the heavenly bodies, Aristotle supposes a con-
siderable number of concentric spheres, fifty-five in all, eadl sphere moving
its proximate inner sphere as the latter's final cause. He settles on this
number by a merely plausible (eulo.gon) ~1 account of the differing views
of the astronomers Eudoxus and Callippus:
for to state what is neccessary (to anagkaion) might be left for those who are
hardier (tols ischyrocerois) d 2
The need to settle on a definite number is only provisional, or protreptic.
Otherwise Aristotle's reader might be persuaded, by other authorities, that
the causes of heavenly movement stretch "to infinity," i.e., utterly beyond
"scientific" grasp. 7a Aristotle wishes only to preserve the possibility that
"nature" as a whole may be "sdentificaliy" intelligible, and not a mere
disordered plurality.
Furthermore, Aristotle's answer to the question of God's own "activity"
(A, 9) is also protreptic. It indicates his continuing dependence on his
audience's willingness to accept his "scientific" analogies with the arts, as
well as on its residual respect for the anthromorphisms of the poetic myths.
God is said to be a living, active intelligence, an "intelligence of intelli-
gence" (nodseas no&is).74 Unlike those who speak of "night" and "chaos,"
Aristotle wishes to avoid associating the divine intelligence with all things
indiscriminately. Accozdingly, the divine intelligence is said to be aware
only of itself, and its objects limited to "what is best" (to ariston). 75 But
again, Aristotle's argument is only by analogy. Limits must be set to the
objects of the divine intelligence, he argues, just as they are sometimes set
Go the obje&s of human vision:

For not seeing some things is also more authoritative (kreitton) than seeing
them . . .Ts
This analogy may well surprise the reader who recalls the opening lines
of .Metaphysics A, where sight
most of all among the senses makes us know (gn&izein), and would make
plain many differences . . .Tr
The apparent contradiction between Metal~hysics A and A Vanishes, how-
ever, in the light of Aristotle's analogy with the arts. As in the arts,
becoming "scientific" means disregarding some phenomena momentarily,
in order to focus on their underlying causes. Otherwise "science" would be

85
 MARTIN D. Y A F F E

a mere by-product (en parerg6i) 7s of those phenomena, instead of the

continuing activity of the artisan's own intelligence. Aristotle's model for
the divine intelligence remains, in this way, the "scientific" human artisan.
Finally, Aristotle's answer to the question of God's transcendence or
immanence in "nature" (A, 10) is protreptic too. His answer depends
largely on two analogies from the arts. The first compares the question,
whether God is transcendent or immanent, to the arrangement of an army:

9 .the well-being is both in the array (taxin) and the general--yet more
.

the latter, for he does not exist through the array (dia t~n taxin), but the
array through him. 7~

Aristotle's analogy is typically plausible, yet spedfically questionable enough

to provoke the reader's philosophical wonderment. How does Aristotle
know where the good of an army resides ? Does he simply assume the au-
thority of the skillful general ? In any case, must we suppose that God is
anthropomorphic, like the general? Aristotle's silence on these implications
is either baffling or else protreptic. Similarly, a second analogy compares
the related question of purpose in "nature" as a whole to that of a ho~se-
hold. s~ As in a household, purpose does not exclude chance. On the con-
trary, the putative art of household management tries to arrange everything
to suit the purpose of the housholder. Yet households do not exclude serv-
ants and animals, who often fail to recognize the common purpose and
act at random. Purpose in "nature" is similar. Perhaps those brief analogies
would remain obscure and inconclusive, except that they are evidently
addressed to someone who already knows something about arts like mili-
tary strategy and household management. Aristotle merely encourages his
addressee to extend what is familiar from these more practical "sciences"
to "nature" as a whole.

vl
In his epilogue to Metaphysics A, 8, Aristotle speaks indirectly of the
relation of "science" and myth. He relates an ancestral myth that the
heavenly bodies are divine, and surround the whole of "nature." Aristotle
does not consider this myth entirely "scientific," for its purpose has been
largely practical, i.e., "for the persuasion o.f the many and for use in the
laws and in matters of convenience.''81 Yet the myth is not entirely without
"scientific" value. Aristotle tells his reader to disregard the obvious anthro-

86
 ARISTOTLE'S THEOLOGY

pomorphisms, such as that the heavenly bodies are "human-looking"

(anthr@oeideis), 82 and to concentrate on the fundamental fact that the first
substances were thought to be gods. This thought indicates for Aristotle the
great "scientific" sophistication of the remote past. For, as he says,
while in all likelihood (kata to eikos) each art and philosophy have often
been discovered as far as possible, and again have decayed, just these
opinions of them have been preserved as remnants until now. 8a
Aristotle evidently wishes to restore the integritT of philosophy and the
arts in the face of their longstanding decay. He therefore encourages his
reader to discover for himself what is of "sdentific" value in this and other
myths about the divine. His own view, that God and "nature" may be under-
stood only by analogy with the arts, remains in this way protreptic. For,
as the myth makes dear, Aristotle's God is one only a philosopher could
lOVe,

NOTES
1 John Herman Randall, Jr., Aristotle (New York: Columbia, University Press, 196o), pp. 138-43.
2 W. D. Ross, Aristotle (sth ed.; Cleveland and New York: World Publishing Company, 1959),
pp. I75-8z; Aristotle's Metaphysics, ed. W. D. Ross (2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon Press, I9a4),
I, pp. cxx-cliv.
3 Ross, Aristotle, p. 176; Aristotle's Metaphysics, pp. cxlix if.
4:io7ib22.23 , The translation of all the quotations from Aristotle in this paper is my own,
except where I have noted otherwise.
5 lo7Ib~9-2I. 6 Io72aa6. 7 1o7ab~-4.
8 Randall, p. ~4o.
9 lo74a37,b14. I have quoted this passage in full at the beginning of the paper.
lo See my "Civil Disobedience and the Opinion of the Many: Plato's Crito, "~ Modern
Schoolman, LIV (1976-77), pp. :tz~-36.
1 9Soa2o (trans. Ross). Cf. below, note 51.
x2 Cf. Martin Heidegger, Wegmarken (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann, I957), P. 321;
Jacob Klein, "Aristotle, An Introduction," in Ancients and Moderns, ed. J. Cropsey (New
York: Basic Books, I966), pp. 57if.; Leo Strauss, Natural Right and History (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, ~953), P. I23.
la David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, Bk. I, Pt. III, Sec. IV, " O f the Component
Parts of Our Reasonings Concerning Cause and Effect," and An Enquiry Concerning Human
Understanding, Essay IV.
14 981aIa-bI~.
1~ Cf. Werner Jaeger, Aristotle: Fundamentals of the History of His Development, trans. R.
Robinson (and ed.; London: Oxford University Press, 1948), pp. 7o-7I.
,16 98ib~4-i 7. 17 98~b:ts-a5". 18 982b27.
19 98~b4. 20 982a4.
21 981628.29 , Cf. Pierre Aubenque, Le probl~me de l'~tre chez Aristote (Paris: Presses
Universitaires de France, 1962), p. x93.
22 982a8-I0, 2x-23" 23 982a:to-z2. 24 982a:~2-13, 2 5 - 2 8 .
25 98aa13-I4, 28-3o. 28 982a,4-~:6, 3o-b 4. 27 982ai6-19, 982b4-7.
28 982612, 15-i9 , 983ai2-29" 29 982612-i7. ao 98ab9.
31 982b28.983aI1. a2 983a8-:to. 3a 983alo-ix.

87
 MARTIN D. Y A F F E

34 983ax~-zz. W e h a v e deliberately translated outhen gar an hout6s thaumaseien . . . h6s ei

genoito metrdtd so as to preserve its surface ambiguity. Ross translates, " t h e r e is nothing
which would surprise a geometer so m u c h as if the diagonal turned out to be c o m m e n -
surable,'" w h i c h implies that w o n d e r m e n t ( " s u r p r i s e " ) is foreign to the science of geometry.
But this implication is not borne out by the context. Aristotle here claims only that the
acquisition of science " s h o u l d " (dei, 983a~r), i.e. " p r o v e r b i a l l y " (kate tdn paroimian, 983a~8)
bring the inquirer to a condition opposite to and better t h a n his original w o n d e r m e n t ; it
follows neither t h a t the scientific inquirer always succeeds in reaching that condition fully,
nor that the condition itself is t a n t a m o u n t to a b a n d o n i n g w o n d e r m e n t . According to 98abl 9 ft.,
w o n d e r m e n t is interpreted as a sign of ignorance, so that philosophy or science becomes the
a t t e m p t to escape ignorance; yet nothing is said about escaping w o n d e r m e n t itself.
36 E.g., Prior AnaIytlcs 43:aa6 ft. Cf. T h o m a s H e a t h , A History of Greek Mathematics (2 Vols.;
Oxford: Clarendon Press, x92x), I, pp. 90-93: and x54-57-
86 ~9262~-27, !9963o-32; cf. 193b/_~-17, I94blx, 3:94653-3:95a3, 195&21-22, :~95a29-5I, z97a2~-25,
~99a33-bI.
37 :t92b21-23. 38 i92b23.
39 ~93a:9-b21; cf. Metaphysics :to24bls-xoa6a7, Io25ai8-32.
4'0 ~93a29-30. 4'1 3:9~a3~-33. 42 ~t9~a36-ba.
43 Cf. I99a3o-32. ~t4 I93b:ta-x7. 45 I94a21-22 .
46 ~94az5-26. 47 ~94a36-b7 . 48 3E94b23-26,
49 1.94626-29. 5'0 ~L94b29-52. 53 x94b32-~95a 3.
6~ ~94bx7-2 ~. Cf. Pantes anthr~3pol tou eidenai oregontai physei (Metaphysics 980a20), which
m i g h t also be translated, " A l l h u m a n beings h a v e by nature an u r g e for i n s i g h t . "
5a 195b21-22. 54 I96b26-29; cf. I9566-28,
55 i95b21~-22. 56 ~97a2~-24. 57 x97b~3-zs,
~8 299b30-32. Cf. Clarence P. Bill, " N o t e s on the Greek Th3oros and The6rla,'" Transactions
of the American PhiloZogical Association XXXII (xgox), pp. ~96-204 .
59 See I a e g e r ' s admonition, op. cir., pp. ~7o-i71, which despite our obvious disagreements h a s
beert the inspiration for the present paper. Cf. also Wolfgang Wieland, Die arlstoteIische
Physik (2nd ed.; GSttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, I97e), especially pp. zgff., 38.
60 200a:l-5. 6Z 2ooax3. 62 2ooa35-b4.
53 ~07Ib27, I072a8. 64 :~o7ib28-30. 65 :to72a3o.
66 :~072b24-26" 67 Cf. :~072aI9-20 , and note 7:t, below.
68 1073a22. 69 :~07~a2~-2~. 7'0 1 0 ~ a i 5 .
7:1 Io74a~6, 24, 72 ~o74a~6<t 7.
73 CL Philip Merlan, " A r i s t o t l e ' s U n m o v e d M o v e r s , " Traditio IV (1946), p. :t3.
7~ 1074b34-35. 75 xo74b33. 76 :~074b52-33.
77 980a.26-27. 78 I074a36. 79 xo75a~t4-x 5.
80 Io75a18-23. 8'1 ~e74b4-5. 82 ~o7465-6.
8~ ~074b~o-~3.

88