The Metaphysics of Aristotle

This, too, is peculiar to Aristotle: he was never willing to depart from nature, but even contemplated things which transcend nature through a natural habit and knowledge; just as, on the contrary, the divine Plato, after the manner of the Pythagoreans Pythagoreans: Followers of the ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras, who believed in the mathematical nature of the universe., contemplated whatever is natural only so far as it partakes of that which is divine and above nature. Thus, the former considered theology physically, and the latter considered physics theologically. He likewise never employs fables and enigmas, and never ascends into the marvelous and the mystic, but adopts obscurity as a substitute for every other veil and involved mode of writing; the reason for which we proposed to investigate as the fourth object of inquiry.

Those more ancient than Aristotle, thinking that it was not fit to expose their wisdom to the multitude, adopted fables, enigmas, metaphors, and similitudes instead of clear and explicit language, and under these, as veils, concealed their wisdom from the profane and vulgar eye. But the Stagirite Stagirite: A title for Aristotle, referring to his birthplace, Stagira. praises and employs obscurity, and perhaps accuses and avoids philosophical fables and enigmas, because some interpretation may be given of them by anyone, even though their real meaning is obvious only to a few. Perhaps, too, he was of the opinion that such obscurity of language is better calculated to exercise the mind of the reader, to excite sagacity sagacity: Keen mental discernment or sound judgment., and to produce accurate attention. Certain, indeed, it is that the present fashionable mode of writing—in which every author endeavors to adapt every subject to the comprehension of the simplest capacity—has debilitated the understanding of readers in general, has subjected works of profound erudition erudition: Great knowledge or learning. to contempt merely because they are not immediately obvious, and, as if the highest truths were on a level with the fictions of romance, has rendered investigation disgusting whenever it is abstruse. That this obscurity, however, in the writings of Aristotle does not arise from feebleness will be obvious to those who are but moderately skilled in rhetoric: for such is the wonderful compression,