The brain was for him mainly an organ by which were secreted certain cold humours which prevented any overheating of the body by the furnace of the heart under the action of the bellows of the lung. He formally rejected the older views of Diogenes of Apollonia, of Alcmaeon of Croton, and of the Hippocratic writings, that placed the seat of sensation in the brain.[63] He failed to trace any adequate relation of sense organs and nerves to brain. He considered that the spinal marrow served to hold the vertebrae together.

In general we may say that his physiology is on a much lower plane than his natural history, since in dealing with physiological questions he always seems to have in mind the body as a whole and seldom pauses for any detailed investigation of a particular part. The physiological views of Aristotle were far from being fully accepted even by the generation which followed him. There was already growing up a school of physiologists whose work culminated five centuries later in that of Galen, where we find quite other views of the bodily functions. It is these views which we may take as more typical of the bases of Greek physiology ([see p. 66]).

In much of the Aristotelian material that we have discussed we have seen the development of a class of interests very foreign to those of the modern biologist, in whose work the general discussion of the ultimate nature and origin of life seldom plays a large part. The business of the modern biologist is mainly with vital phenomena as he encounters them and he is not concerned with the deeper philosophical problems. The man of science considers a part of the Universe where the philosopher makes it his business to regard the whole. With Aristotle this modern scientific process of taking a part of the sensible Universe, such as a particular group of animals or the particular action of a particular organ, and considering it in and by and for itself without reference to other things, had not yet fully emerged. Philosophy and science are still inextricably linked and there is no clear demarcation between them.

This is at least his theoretical view. But besides being a philosopher by choice he was a supreme naturalist by his natural endowments and he cannot suppress his love for nature and his capacity for observation. We see Aristotle the naturalist at his greatest as a direct observer or when reasoning directly about the observations that he has made. When he disregards his own observations and begins to erect theories on the observations or the views of others, he becomes weaker and less comprehensible.

§ 3. After Aristotle

All Aristotle’s surviving biological works refer primarily to the animal creation. His work on plants is lost or rather has survived as the merest corrupted fragment. We are fortunate, however, in the possession of a couple of complete works by his pupil and successor Theophrastus (372-287), which may not only be taken to represent the Aristotelian attitude towards the plant world, but also give us an inkling of the general state of biological science in the generation which succeeded the master.

These treatises of Theophrastus are in many respects the most complete and orderly of all ancient biological works that have reached our time. They give an idea of the kind of interest that the working scientist of that day could develop when inspired rather by the genius of a great teacher than by the power of his own thoughts. Theophrastus is a pedestrian where Aristotle is a creature of wings, he is in a relation to the master of the same order that the morphologists of the second half of the nineteenth century were to Darwin. For a couple of generations after the appearance of the Origin of Species in 1859 the industry and ability of naturalists all over the world were occupied in working out in detail the structure and mode of life of living things on the basis of the Evolutionary philosophy. Nearly all the work on morphology and much of that on physiology since his time might be treated as a commentary on the works of Darwin. These volumes of Theophrastus give the same impression. They represent the remains—alas, almost the only biological remains—of a school working under the impulse of a great idea and spurred by the memory of a great teacher. As such they afford a parallel to much scientific work of our own day, produced by men without genius save that provided by a vision and a hope and an ideal. Of such men it is impossible to write as of Aristotle. Their lives are summed up by their actual achievement, and since Theophrastus is an orderly writer whose works have descended to us in good state, he is a very suitable instance of the actual standard of achievement of ancient biology. ‘Without vision the people perish’ and the very breath of life of science is drawn, and can only be drawn, from that very small band of prophets who from time to time, during the ages, have provided the great generalizations and the great ideals. In this light let us examine the work of Theophrastus.

In the absence of any adequate system of classification, almost all botany until the seventeenth century consisted mainly of descriptions of species. To describe accurately a leaf or a root in the language in ordinary use would often take pages. Modern botanists have invented an elaborate terminology which, however hideous to eye and ear, has the crowning merit of helping to abbreviate scientific literature. Botanical writers previous to the seventeenth century were substantially without this special mode of expression. It is partly to this lack that we owe the persistent attempts throughout the centuries to represent plants pictorially in herbals, manuscript and printed, and thus the possibility of an adequate history of plant illustration.

Theophrastus seems to have felt acutely the need of botanical terms, and there are cases in which he seeks to give a special technical meaning to words in more or less current use. Among such words are carpos = fruit, pericarpion = seed vessel = pericarp, and metra, the word used by him for the central core of any stem whether formed of wood, pith, or other substance. It is from the usage of Theophrastus that the exact definition of fruit and pericarp has come down to us.[64] We may easily discern also the purpose for which he introduces into botany the term metra, a word meaning primarily the womb, and the vacancy in the Greek language which it was made to fill. ‘Metra,’ he says, ‘is that which is in the middle of the wood, being third in order from the bark and [thus] like to the marrow in bones. Some call it the heart (καρδίαν), others the inside (ἐντεριώνην), yet others call only the innermost part of the metra itself the heart, while others again call this marrow.’[65] He is thus inventing a word to cover all the different kinds of core and importing it from another study. This is the method of modern scientific nomenclature which hardly existed for botanists even as late as the sixteenth century of our era. The real foundations of our modern nomenclature were laid in the later sixteenth and in the seventeenth century by Cesalpino and Joachim Jung.

Theophrastus understood the value of developmental study, a conception derived from his master. ‘A plant’, he says, ‘has power of germination in all its parts, for it has life in them all, wherefore we should regard them not for what they are but for what they are becoming.’[66] The various modes of plant reproduction are correctly distinguished in a way that passes beyond the only surviving earlier treatise that deals in detail with the subject, the Hippocratic work On generation. ‘The manner of generation of trees and plants are these: spontaneous, from a seed, from a root, from a piece torn off, from a branch or twig, from the trunk itself, or from pieces of the wood cut up small.’[67] The marvel of generation must have awakened admiration from a very early date. We have already seen it occupying a more ancient author, and it had also been one of the chief pre-occupations of Aristotle. It is thus not remarkable that the process should impress Theophrastus, who has left on record his views on the formation of the plant from the seed.