Oliver Fleming - "Ambrotox and Limping Dick"

Stephen Gwynn - "The Life of the Rt. Hon. Sir Charles W. Dilke, Vol. 2"

Daniel Defoe - "Of Captain Mission"

Various - "Georgian Poetry 1911 12"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

A Short History of Greek Philosophy

J >> John Marshall >> A Short History of Greek Philosophy




In such an existence every part is at once a potentiality and an
actuality, and so also is the whole. We can begin anywhere and travel
out from that point to the whole; we can take the whole and find in it
all the parts.




{187}

CHAPTER XIX

ARISTOTLE (_continued_)

_Realisation and reminiscence--The crux of philosophy--Reason in
education--The chief good--Origin of communities_


If we look closely at this conception of Aristotle's we shall see that
it has a nearer relation to the Platonic doctrine of Ideas, and even to
the doctrine of Reminiscence, than perhaps even Aristotle himself
realised. The fundamental conception of Plato, it will be remembered,
is that of an eternally existing 'thought of God,' in manifold forms or
'ideas,' which come into the consciousness of men in connection with or
on occasion of sensations, which are therefore in our experience later
than the sensations, but which we nevertheless by reason recognise as
necessarily prior to the sensations, inasmuch as it is through these
ideas alone that the sensations are knowable or namable at all. Thus
the final end for man is by contemplation and 'daily dying to the world
of sense,' to come at last into the full inheritance in conscious
knowledge of that 'thought of God' which was latent from the first in
his soul, and of which in its fulness God Himself is eternally and
necessarily possessed.

{188}

[311]

This is really Aristotle's idea, only Plato expresses it rather under a
psychological, Aristotle under a vital, formula. God, Aristotle says,
is eternally and necessarily Entelechy, absolute realisation. _To us_,
that which is first _in time_ (the individual perception) is not first
in _essence_, or absolutely. What is first in essence or absolutely,
is the universal, that is, the form or idea, the datum of reason. And
this distinction between time and the absolute, between our individual
experience and the essential or ultimate reality, runs all through the
philosophy of Aristotle. The 'Realisation' of Aristotle is the
'Reminiscence' of Plato.

This conception Aristotle extended to Thought, to the various forms of
life, to education, to morals, to politics.

_Thought_ is an entelechy, an organic whole, in which every process
conditions and is conditioned by every other. If we begin with
sensation, the sensation, blank as regards predication, has relations
to that which is infinitely real,--the object, the real thing before
us,--which relations science will never exhaust. If we start from the
other end, with the datum of thought, consciousness, existence, mind,
this is equally blank as regards predication, yet it has relations to
another existence infinitely real,--the subject that thinks,--which
relations religion and morality and sentiment and love will never
exhaust. Or, as {189} Aristotle and as common sense prefers to do, if
we, with our developed habits of thought and our store of accumulated
information, choose to deal with things from a basis midway between the
two extremes, in the ordinary way of ordinary people, we shall find
both processes working simultaneously and in organic correlation. That
is to say, we shall be increasing the _individuality_ of the objects
known, by the operation of true thought and observation in the
discovery of new characters or qualities in them; we shall be
increasing by the same act the _generality_ of the objects known, by
the discovery of new relations, new genera under which to bring them.
Individualisation and generalisation are only opposed, as mutually
conditioning factors of the same organic function.

[316]

This analysis of thought must be regarded rather as a paraphrase of
Aristotle than as a literal transcript. He is hesitating and obscure,
and at times apparently self-contradictory. He has not, any more than
Plato, quite cleared himself of the confusion between the mutually
contrary individual and universal in _propositions_, and the
organically correlative individual and universal in _things as known_.
But on the whole the tendency of his analysis is towards an
apprehension of the true realism, which neither denies matter in favour
of mind nor mind in favour of matter, but recognises that both mind and
matter are organically correlated, and ultimately identical.

{190}

The crux of philosophy, so far as thus apprehended by Aristotle, is no
longer in the supposed dualism of mind and matter, but there is a crux
still. What is the meaning of this 'Ultimately'? Or, putting it in
Aristotle's formula, Why this relation of potentiality and actuality?
Why this eternal coming to be, even if the coming to be is no
unreasoned accident, but a coming to be of that which is vitally or in
germ _there_? Or theologically, Why did God make the world? Why this
groaning and travailing of the creature? Why this eternal 'By and by'
wherein all sin is to disappear, all sorrow to be consoled, all the
clashings and the infinite deceptions of life to be stilled and
satisfied? An illustration of Aristotle's attempt to answer this
question will be given later on (p. 201). That the answer is a failure
need not surprise us. If we even now 'see only as in a glass darkly'
on such a question, we need not blame Plato or Aristotle for not seeing
'face to face.'

[326]

_Life_ is an entelechy, not only abstractedly, as already shown (above,
p. 186), but in respect of the varieties of its manifestations. We
pass from the elementary life of mere growth common to plants and
animals, to the animal life of impulse and sensation, thence we rise
still higher to the life of rational action which is the peculiar
function of man. Each is a _potentiality_ to that which is immediately
above it; in {191} other words, each contains in germ the possibilities
which are realised in that stage which is higher. Thus is there a
touch of nature which makes the whole world kin, a purpose running
through all the manifestations of life; each is a preparation for
something higher.

[339]

_Education_ is in like manner an entelechy. For what is the
_differentia_, the distinguishing character of the life of man?
Aristotle answers, the possession of reason. It is the action of
reason upon the desires that raises the life of man above the brutes.
This, observe, is not the restraining action of something wholly alien
to the desires, which is too often how Plato represents the matter.
This would be to lose the dynamic idea. The desires, as Aristotle
generally conceives them, are there in the animal life, prepared, so to
speak, to receive the organic perfection which reason alone can give
them. Intellect, on the other hand, is equally in need of the desires,
for thought without desire cannot supply motive. If intellect is
_logos_ or reason, desire is that which is fitted to be obedient to
reason.

It will be remembered that the question to which Plato addressed
himself in one of his earlier dialogues, already frequently referred
to, the _Meno_, was the teachableness of Virtue; in that dialogue he
comes to the conclusion that Virtue is teachable, but that there are
none capable of teaching it; for the {192} wise men of the time are
guided not by knowledge but by right opinion, or by a divine instinct
which is incommunicable. Plato is thus led to seek a machinery of
education, and it is with a view to this that he constructs his ideal
_Republic_. Aristotle took up this view of the state as educative of
the individual citizens, and brought it under the dynamic formula. In
the child reason is not actual; there is no rational law governing his
acts, these are the immediate result of the strongest impulse. Yet
only when a succession of virtuous acts has formed the virtuous habit
can a man be said to be truly good. How is this process to begin? The
answer is that the reason which is only latent or dynamic in the child
is actual or realised in the parent or teacher, or generally in the
community which educates the child. The law at first then is imposed
on the child from without, it has an appearance of unnaturalness, but
only an appearance. For the law is there in the child, prepared, as he
goes on in obedience, gradually to answer from within to the summons
from without, till along with the virtuous habit there emerges also
into the consciousness of the child, no longer a child but a man, the
apprehension of the law as his own truest nature.

These remarks on education are sufficient to show that in Morals also,
as conceived by Aristotle, there is a law of vital development. It may
be {193} sufficient by way of illustration to quote the introductory
sentences of Aristotle's _Ethics_, in which the question of the nature
of the chief good is, in his usual tentative manner, discussed: "If
there be any end of what we do which we desire for itself, while all
other ends are desired for it, that is, if we do not in every case have
some ulterior end (for if that were so we should go on to infinity, and
our efforts would be vain and useless), this ultimate end desired for
itself will clearly be the chief good and the ultimate best. Now since
every activity, whether of knowing or doing, aims at some good, it is
for us to settle what the good is which the civic activity aims
at,--what, in short, is the ultimate end of all 'goods' connected with
conduct? So far as the name goes all are pretty well agreed as to the
answer; gentle and simple alike declare it to be happiness, involving,
however, in their minds on the one hand well-living, on the other hand,
well-doing. When you ask them, however, to define this happiness more
exactly, you find that opinions are divided, and the many and the
philosophers have different answers.

"But if you ask a musician or a sculptor or any man of skill, any
person, in fact, who has some special work and activity, what the chief
good is for him, he will tell you that the chief good is in the work
well done. If then man has any special work or function, we may assume
that the chief good for man {194} will be in the well-doing of that
function. What now is man's special function? It cannot be mere
living, for that he has in common with plants, and we are seeking what
is peculiar to him. The mere life of nurture and growth must therefore
be put on one side. We come next to life as sensitive to pleasure and
pain. But this man shares with the horse, the ox, and other animals.
What remains is the life of action of a reasonable being. Now of
reason as it is in man there are two parts, one obeying, one possessing
and considering. And there are also two aspects in which the active or
moral life may be taken, one potential, one actual. Clearly for our
definition of the chief good we must take the moral life in its full
actual realisation, since this is superior to the other.

"If our view thus far be correct, it follows that the chief good for
man consists in the full realisation and perfection of the life of man
as man, in accordance with the specific excellence belonging to that
life, and if there be more specific excellences than one, then in
accordance with that excellence which is the best and the most rounded
or complete. We must add, however, the qualification, 'in a rounded
life.' For one swallow does not make a summer, nor yet one day. And
so one day or some brief period of attainment is not sufficient to make
a man happy and blest."

{195}

The close relation of this to the teaching of Socrates and Plato need
hardly be insisted on, or the way in which he correlates their ideas
with his own conception of an actualised perfection.

[340]

Aristotle then proceeds to a definition of the 'specific excellence' or
virtue of man, which is to be the standard by which we decide how far
he has fully and perfectly realised the possibilities of his being. To
this end he distinguishes in man's nature three modes of existence:
first, _feelings_ such as joy, pain, anger; second, _potentialities_ or
capacities for such feelings; third, _habits_ which are built upon
these potentialities, but with an element of reason or deliberation
superadded. He has no difficulty in establishing that the virtue of
man must be a habit. And the test of the excellence of that habit, as
of every other developed capacity, will be twofold; it will make the
worker good, it will cause him to produce good work.

So far Aristotle's analysis of virtue is quite on the lines of his
general philosophy. Here, however, he diverges into what seems at
first a curiously mechanical conception. Pointing out that in
everything quantitative there are two extremes conceivable, and a
_mean_ or average between them, he proceeds to define virtue as a mean
between two extremes, a mean, however, having relation to no mere
numerical standard, but having reference _to us_. In this last {196}
qualification he perhaps saves his definition from its mechanical turn,
while he leaves himself scope for much curious and ingenious
observation on the several virtues regarded as means between two
extremes. He further endeavours to save it by adding, that it is
"defined by reason, and as the wise man would define it."

Reason then, as the impersonal ruler,--the wise man, as the
personification of reason,--this is the standard of virtue, and
therefore also of happiness. How then shall we escape an externality
in our standard, divesting it of that binding character which comes
only when the law without is also recognised and accepted as the law
within? The answer of Aristotle, as of his predecessors, is that this
will be brought about by wise training and virtuous surroundings, in
short, by the civic community being itself good and happy. Thus we get
another dynamic relation; for regarded as a member of the body politic
each individual becomes a potentiality along with all the other
members, conditioned by the state of which he and they are members,
brought gradually into harmony with the reason which is in the state,
and in the process realising not his own possibilities only, but those
of the community also, which exists only in and through its members.
Thus each and all, in so far as they realise their own well-being by
the perfect development of the virtuous {197} habit in their lives,
contribute _ipso facto_ to the supreme end of the state, which is the
perfect realisation of the whole possibilities of the total organism,
and consequently of every member of it.

[342]

The _State_ therefore is also an entelechy. For man is not made to
dwell alone. "There is first the fact of sex; then the fact of
children; third, the fact of variety of capacity, implying variety of
position, some having greater powers of wisdom and forethought, and
being therefore naturally the rulers; others having bodily powers
suitable for carrying out the rulers' designs, and being therefore
naturally subjects. Thus we have as a first or simplest community the
family, next the village, then the full or perfect state, which,
seeking to realise an absolute self-sufficiency within itself, rises
from mere living to well-living as an aim of existence. This higher
existence is as natural and necessary as any simpler form, being, in
fact, the end or final and necessary perfection of all such lower forms
of existence. Man therefore is by the natural necessity of his being a
'political animal,' and he who is not a citizen,--that is, by reason of
something peculiar in his nature and not by a mere accident,--must
either be deficient or something superhuman. And while man is the
noblest of animals when thus fully perfected in an ordered community,
on the other hand when deprived of law and justice he is the very
worst. {198} For there is nothing so dreadful as lawlessness armed.
And man is born with the arms of thought and special capacities or
excellences, which it is quite possible for him to use for other and
contrary purposes. And therefore man is the most wicked and cruel
animal living when he is vicious, the most lustful and the most
gluttonous. The justice which restrains all this is a civic quality;
and law is the orderly arrangement of the civic community" (Arist.
_Pol_. i. p. 2).




{199}

CHAPTER XX

ARISTOTLE (_concluded_)

_God and necessity--The vital principle--Soul as realisation--Function
and capacity--His method_


Throughout Aristotle's physical philosophy the [334] same conception
runs: "All animals in their fully developed state require two members
above all--one whereby to take in nourishment, the other whereby to get
rid of what is superfluous. For no animal can exist or grow without
nourishment. And there is a third member in them all half-way between
these, in which resides the principle of their life. This is the
heart, which all blood-possessing animals have. From it comes the
arterial system which Nature has made hollow to contain the liquid
blood. The situation of the heart is a commanding one, being near the
middle and rather above than below, and rather towards the front than
the back. For Nature ever establishes that which is most honourable in
the most honourable places, unless some supreme necessity overrules.
We see this most clearly in the case of man; but the same tendency for
the heart to occupy the centre is seen also in {200} other animals,
when we regard only that portion of their body which is essential, and
the limit of this is at the place where superfluities are removed. The
limbs are arranged differently in different animals, and are not among
the parts essential to life; consequently animals may live even if
these are removed. . . . Anaxagoras says that man is the wisest of
animals because he possesses hands. It would be more reasonable to say
that he possesses hands because he is the wisest. For the hands are an
instrument; and Nature always assigns an instrument to the one fitted
to use it, just as a sensible man would. For it is more reasonable to
give a flute to a flute-player than to confer on a man who has some
flutes the art of playing them. To that which is the greater and
higher she adds what is less important, and not _vice versa_.
Therefore to the creature fitted to acquire the largest number of
skills Nature assigned the hand, the instrument useful for the largest
number of purposes" (Arist. _De Part. An._ iv. p. 10).

[332]

And in the macrocosm, the visible and invisible world about us, the
same conception holds: "The existence of God is an eternally perfect
entelechy, a life everlasting. In that, therefore, which belongs to
the divine there must be an eternally perfect movement. Therefore the
heavens, which are as it were the body of the Divine, are in form a
sphere, of {201} necessity ever in circular motion. Why then is not
this true of every portion of the universe? Because there must of
necessity be a point of rest of the circling body at the centre. Yet
the circling body cannot rest either as a whole or as regards any part
of it, otherwise its motion could not be eternal, which by nature it
is. Now that which is a violation of nature cannot be eternal, but the
violation is posterior to that which is in accordance with nature, and
thus the unnatural is a kind of displacement or degeneracy from the
natural, taking the form of a coming into being.

"Necessity then requires earth, as the element standing still at the
centre. Now if there must be earth, there must be fire. For if one of
two opposites is natural or necessary, the other must be necessary too,
each, in fact, implying the necessity of the other. For the two have
the same substantial basis, only the positive form is naturally prior
to the negative; for instance, warm is prior to cold. And in the same
way motionlessness and heaviness are predicated in virtue of the
absence of motion and lightness, _i.e._ the latter are essentially
prior.

"Further, if there are fire and earth, there must also be the elements
which lie between these, each having an antithetic relation to each.
From this it follows that there must be a process of coming into being,
because none of these elements can be eternal, {202} but each affects,
and is affected by each, and they are mutually destructive. Now it is
not to be argued that anything which can be moved can be eternal,
except in the case of that which by its own nature has eternal motion.
And if coming into being must be predicated of these, then other forms
of change can also be predicated" (Arist. _De Coelo_, ii. p. 3).

This passage is worth quoting as illustrating, not only Aristotle's
conception of the divine entelechy, but also the ingenuity with which
he gave that appearance of logical completeness to the vague and
ill-digested scientific imaginations of the time, which remained so
evil an inheritance for thousands of years. It is to be observed, in
order to complete Aristotle's theory on this subject, that the four
elements, Earth, Water, Air, Fire, are all equally in a world which is
"contrary to nature," that is, the world of change, of coming into
being, and going out of being. Apart from these there is the element
of the Eternal Cosmos, which is "in accordance with nature," having its
own natural and eternal motion ever the same. This is the fifth or
divine element, the aetherial, by the schoolmen translated _Quinta
Essentia_, whence by a curious degradation we have our modern word
Quintessence, of that which is the finest and subtlest extract.

Still more clearly is the organic conception carried {203} out in
Aristotle's discussion of the Vital principle or Soul in the various
grades of living creatures and in man. It will be sufficient to quote
at length a chapter of Aristotle's treatise on the subject (_De Anima_,
ii. p. 1) in which this fundamental conception of Aristotle's
philosophy is very completely illustrated:--

"Now as to Substance we remark that this is one particular category
among existences, having three different aspects. First there is, so
to say, the raw material or Matter, having in it no definite character
or quality; next the Form or Specific character, in virtue of which the
thing becomes namable; and third, there is the Thing or Substance which
these two together constitute. The Matter is, in other words, the
_potentiality_ of the thing, the Form is the _realisation_ of that
potentiality. We may further have this realisation in two ways,
corresponding in character to the distinction between _knowledge_
(which we have but are not necessarily using) and actual
_contemplation_ or mental perception.

"Among substances as above defined those are most truly such which we
call _bodily objects_, and among these most especially objects which
are the products of nature, inasmuch as all other bodies must be
derived from them. Now among such natural objects some are possessed
of life, some are not; by _life_ I mean a process of spontaneous
nourishment, growth, and decay. Every natural {204} object having life
is a substance compounded, so to say, of several qualities. It is, in
fact, a bodily substance defined in virtue of its having life. Between
the living body thus defined and the Soul or Vital principle, a marked
distinction must be drawn. The body cannot be said to 'subsist in'
something else; rather must we say that it is the matter or substratum
in which something else subsists. And what we mean by the soul is just
this substance in the sense of the _form_ or specific character that
subsists in the natural body which is _potentially_ living. In other
words, the Soul is substance as _realisation_, only, however, of such a
body as has just been defined. Recalling now the distinction between
realisation as possessed knowledge and as actual contemplation, we
shall see that in its essential nature the Soul or Vital principle
corresponds rather with the first than with the second. For both sleep
and waking depend on the Soul or Life being there, but of these waking
only can be said to correspond with the active form of knowledge; sleep
is rather to be compared with the state of having without being
immediately conscious that we have. Now if we compare these two states
in respect of their priority of development in a particular person, we
shall see that the state of latent possession comes first. We may
therefore define the Soul or Vital principle as _The earliest {205}
realisation (entelechy) of a natural body having in it the potentiality
of life_.

"To every form of organic structure this definition applies, for even
the parts of plants are organs, although very simple ones; thus the
outer leaf is a protection to the pericarp, and the pericarp to the
fruit. Or, again, the roots are organs bearing an analogy to the mouth
in animals, both serving to take in food. Putting our definition,
then, into a form applicable to every stage of the Vital principle, we
shall say that _The Soul is the earliest realisation of a natural body
having organisation_.

"In this way we are relieved from the necessity of asking whether Soul
and body are one. We might as well ask whether the wax and the
impression are one, or, in short, whether the _matter_ of any object
and that whereof it is the matter or substratum are one. As has been
pointed out, unity and substantiality may have several significations,
but the truest sense of both is found in _realisation_.

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