Book 3

Section 4

In this connection there is a difficulty which is the hardest and yet the most necessary of all to investigate, and with which our inquiry is now concerned. (7.) If nothing exists apart from individual things, and these are infinite in number, how is it possible to obtain knowledge of the numerically infinite? For we acquire our knowledge of all things only in so far as they contain something universal, some one and identical characteristic.

But if this is essential, and there must be something apart from individual things, it must be the genera; either the lowest or the highest; but we have just concluded that this is impossible.

Further, assuming that when something is predicated of matter there is in the fullest sense something apart from the concrete whole, if there is something, must it exist apart from all concrete wholes, or apart from some but not others, or apart from none?

If nothing exists apart from individual things, nothing will be intelligible; everything will be sensible, and there will be no knowledge of anything—unless it be maintained that sense-perception is knowledge. Nor again will anything be eternal or immovable, since sensible things are all perishable and in motion.

Again, if nothing is eternal, even generation is impossible; for there must be something which becomes something, i.e. out of which something is generated, and of this series the ultimate term must be ungenerated; that is if there is any end to the series and generation cannot take place out of nothing.

Further, if there is generation and motion, there must be limit too. For (a) no motion is infinite, but every one has an end; (b) that which cannot be completely generated cannot begin to be generated, and that which has been generated must be as soon as it has been generated.

Further, if matter exists apart in virtue of being ungenerated, it is still more probable that the substance, i.e. that which the matter is at any given time becoming, should exist. And if neither one nor the other exists, nothing will exist at all. But if this is impossible, there must be something, the shape or form, apart from the concrete whole.

But again, if we assume this, there is a difficulty: in what cases shall we, and in what shall we not, assume it? Clearly it cannot be done in all cases; for we should not assume that a particular house exists apart from particular houses. Moreover, are we to regard the essence of all things, e.g. of men, as one? This is absurd; for all things whose essence is one are one.

Then is it many and diverse? This too is illogical. And besides, how does the matter become each individual one of these things, and how is the concrete whole both matter and form?

(8.) Further, the following difficulty might be raised about the first principles. If they are one in kind, none of them will be one in number, not even the Idea of Unity or of Being. And how can there be knowledge unless there is some universal term?

On the other hand if they are numerically one, and each of the principles is one, and not, as in the case of sensible things, different in different instances (e.g. since a given syllable is always the same in kind, its first principles are always the same in kind, but only in kind, since they are essentially different in number)—if the first principles are one, not in this sense, but numerically, there will be nothing else apart from the elements; for numerically one and individual are identical in meaning. This is what we mean by individual: the numerically one; but by universal we mean what is predicable of individuals.

Hence just as, if the elements of language were limited in number, the whole of literature would be no more than those elements—that is, if there were not two nor more than two of the same 〈so it would be in the case of existing things and their principles〉.

(ix.) There is a difficulty, as serious as any, which has been left out of account both by present thinkers and by their predecessors: whether the first principles of perishable and imperishable things are the same or different. For if they are the same, how is it that some things are perishable and others imperishable, and for what cause?

The school of Hesiod, and all the cosmologists, considered only what was convincing to themselves, and gave no consideration to us. For they make the first principles Gods or generated from Gods, and say that whatever did not taste of the nectar and ambrosia became mortal—clearly using these terms in a sense significant to themselves;

but as regards the actual applications of these causes their statements are beyond our comprehension. For if it is for pleasure that the Gods partake of them, the nectar and ambrosia are in no sense causes of their existence; but if it is to support life, how can Gods who require nourishment be eternal?

However, it is not worth while to consider seriously the subtleties of mythologists; we must ascertain by cross-examining those who offer demonstration of their statements why exactly things which are derived from the same principles are some of an eternal nature and some perishable. And since these thinkers state no reason for this view, and it is unreasonable that things should be so, obviously the causes and principles of things cannot be the same.

Even the thinker who might be supposed to speak most consistently, Empedocles, is in the same case; for he posits Strife as a kind of principle which is the cause of destruction, but none the less Strife would seem to produce everything except the One; for everything except God proceeds from it.

At any rate he says

From which grew all that was and is and shall be

In time to come: the trees, and men and women,

The beasts and birds and water-nurtured fish,

And the long-living Gods.

And it is obvious even apart from this; for if there had not been Strife in things, all things would have been one, he says; for when they came together then Strife came to stand outermost. Hence it follows on his theory that God, the most blessed being, is less wise than the others, since He does not know all the elements; for He has no Strife in Him, and knowledge is of like by like:

By earth (he says) we earth perceive, by water water,

By air bright air, by fire consuming fire,

Love too by love, and strife by grievous strife.

But—and this is the point from which we started—thus much is clear: that it follows on his theory that Strife is no more the cause of destruction than it is of Being. Nor, similarly, is Love the cause of Being; for in combining things into one it destroys everything else.

Moreover, of the actual process of change he gives no explanation, except that it is so by nature:

But when Strife waxing great among the members

Sprang up to honor as the time came round

Appointed them in turn by a mighty oath,

as though change were a necessity; but he exhibits no cause for the necessity.

However, thus much of his theory is consistent: he does not represent some things to be perishable and others imperishable, but makes everything perishable except the elements. But the difficulty now being stated is why some things are perishable and others not, assuming that they are derived from the same principles.

The foregoing remarks may suffice to show that the principles cannot be the same.

If however they are different, one difficulty is whether they too are to be regarded as imperishable or as perishable. For if they are perishable, it is clearly necessary that they too must be derived from something else, since everything passes upon dissolution into that from which it is derived. Hence it follows that there are other principles prior to the first principles;

but this is impossible, whether the series stops or proceeds to infinity. And further, how can perishable things exist if their principles are abolished? On the other hand if the principles are imperishable, why should some imperishable principles produce perishable things, and others imperishable things? This is not reasonable; either it is impossible or it requires much explanation.

Further, no one has so much as attempted to maintain different principles; they maintain the same principles for everything. But they swallow down the difficulty which we raised first as though they took it to be trifling.

But the hardest question of all to investigate and also the most important with a view to the discovery of the truth, is whether after all Being and Unity are substances of existing things, and each of them is nothing else than Being and Unity respectively, or whether we should inquire what exactly Being and Unity are, there being some other nature underlying them.

Some take the former, others the latter view of the nature of Being and Unity. Plato and the Pythagoreans hold that neither Being nor Unity is anything else than itself, and that this is their nature, their essence being simply Being and Unity.

But the physicists, e.g. Empedocles, explain what Unity is by reducing it to something, as it were, more intelligible—or it would seem that by Love Empedocles means Unity; at any rate Love is the cause of Unity in all things. Others identify fire and others air with this Unity and Being of which things consist and from which they have been generated.

Those who posit more numerous elements also hold the same view; for they too must identify Unity and Being with all the principles which they recognize. And it follows that unless one assumes Unity and Being to be substance in some sense, no other universal term can be substance; for Unity and Being are the most universal of all terms,

and if there is no absolute Unity or absolute Being, no other concept can well exist apart from the so-called particulars. Further, if Unity is not substance, clearly number cannot be a separate characteristic of things; for number is units, and the unit is simply a particular kind of one.

On the other hand, if there is absolute Unity and Being, their substance must be Unity and Being; for no other term is predicated universally of Unity and Being, but only these terms themselves. Again, if there is to be absolute Being and absolute Unity, it is very hard to see how there can be anything else besides these; I mean, how things can be more than one.

For that which is other than what is, is not; and so by Parmenides’ argument it must follow that all things are one, i.e. Being. In either case there is a difficulty; for whether Unity is not a substance or whether there is absolute Unity, number cannot be a substance.

It has already been stated why this is so if Unity is not a substance; and if it is, there is the same difficulty as about Being. For whence, if not from the absolute One or Unity, can there be another one? It must be not-one; but all things are either one, or many of which each is one. Further, if absolute Unity is indivisible, by Zeno’s axiom it will be nothing.

For that which neither when added makes a thing greater nor when subtracted makes it smaller is not an existent thing, he says ; clearly assuming that what exists is spatial magnitude. And if it is a spatial magnitude it is corporeal, since the corporeal exists in all dimensions, whereas the other magnitudes, the plane or line, when added to a thing in one way will increase it, but when added in another will not; and the point or unit will not increase a thing in any way whatever.

But since Zeno’s view is unsound, and it is possible for a thing to be indivisible in such a way that it can be defended even against his argument (for such a thing when added will increase a thing in number though not in size)—still how can a magnitude be composed of one or more such indivisible things? It is like saying that the line is composed of points.

Moreover, even if one supposes the case to be such that number is generated, as some say, from the One itself and from something else which is not one, we must none the less inquire why and how it is that the thing generated will be at one time number and at another magnitude, if the not-one was inequality and the same principle in both cases. For it is not clear how magnitude can be generated either from One and this principle, or from a number and this principle.