"We have to inquire concerning Angling. Is it an Art? It is. Now what kind of art? All art is an art of making or an art of getting: (Poietic or Ktetic.) It is Ktetic. Now the art of getting, is the art of getting by exchange or by capture: (Metabletic or Chirotic.) Getting by capture is by contest or by chase: (Agonistic or Thereutic.) Getting by chase is a chase of lifeless or of living things: (the first has no name, the second is Zootheric.) The chase of living things is the chase of land animals or of water animals: (Pezotheric or Enygrotheric.) Chase of water animals is of birds or of fish: (Ornithothereutic and Halieutic.) Chase of fish is by inclosing or by striking them: (Hercotheric or Plectic.) We strike them by day with pointed instruments, or by night, using torches: (hence the division Ankistreutic and Pyreutic.) Of Ankistreutic, one kind consists in spearing the fish downwards from above, the other in twitching them upwards from below: (these two arts are Triodontic and Aspalieutic.) And thus we have, what we sought, the notion and the description of angling: namely that it is a Ktetic, Chirotic, Thereutic, Zootheric, Enygrotheric, Halieutic, Plectic, Ankistreutic, Aspalieutic Art."
Several other examples are given of this ingenious mode of definition, but they are all introduced with reference to the definition of the Sophist. And it will further illustrate this method to show how, according to it, the Sophist is related to the Angler.
The Sophistical Art is an art of getting, by capture, living things, namely men. It is thus a Ktetic, Chirotic, Thereutic art, and so far agrees with that of the Angler. But here the two arts diverge, since that of the Sophist is Pezotheric, that of the Angler Enygrotheric. To determine the Sophist still more exactly, observe that the chase of land animals is either of tame animals (including man) or of wild animals: (Hemerotheric and Agriotheric.) The chase of tame animals is either by violence, (as kidnapping, tyranny, and war in general,) or by persuasion, (as by the arts of speech;) that is, it is Biaiotheric or Pithanurgic. The art of persuasion is a private or a public proceeding: (Idiothereutic or Demosiothereutic.) The art of private persuasion is accompanied with the giving of presents, (as lovers do,) or with the receiving of pay: (thus it is Dorophoric or Mistharneutic.) To receive pay as the result of persuasion, is the course, either of those who merely earn their bread by supplying pleasure, namely flatterers, whose art is Hedyntic; or of those who profess for pay to teach virtue. And who are they? Plainly the Sophists. And thus Sophistic is that kind of Ktetic, Chirotic, Thereutic, Zootheric, Pezotheric, Hemerotheric, Pithanurgic, Idiothereutic, Mistharneutic art, which professes to teach virtue, and takes money on that account.
The same process is pursued along several other lines of inquiry: and at the end of each of them the Sophist is detected, involved in a number of somewhat obnoxious characteristics. This process of division it will be observed, is at every step bifurcate, or as it is called, dichotomous. Applied as it is in these examples, it is rather the vehicle of satire than of philosophy. Yet, I have no doubt that this bifurcate method was admired by some of the philosophers of Plato's time, as a clever and effective philosophical invention. We may the more readily believe this, inasmuch as one of the most acute persons of our own time, who has come nearer than any other to the ancient heads of sects in the submission with which his followers have accepted his doctrines, has taken up this Dichotomous Method, and praised it as the only philosophical mode of dividing a subject. I refer to Mr. Jeremy Bentham's Chrestomathia (published originally in 1816), in which this exhaustive bifurcate method, as he calls it, was applied to classify sciences and arts, with a view to a scheme of education. How exactly the method, as recommended by him, agrees with the method illustrated in the Sophist, an examination of any of his examples will show. Thus to take Mineralogy as an example: according to Bentham, Ontology is Cœnoscopic or Idioscopic: the Idioscopic is Somatoscopic or Pneumatoscopic; the Somatoscopic is Pososcopic or Poioscopic: Poioscopic is Physiurgoscopic or Anthropurgoscopic: Physiurgoscopic is Uranoscopic or Epigeoscopic: Epigeoscopic is Abioscopic or Embioscopic. And thus Mineralogy is the Science Idioscopic, Somatoscopic, Poioscopic, Physiurgoscopic, Epigeoscopic, Abioscopic: inasmuch as it is the science which regards bodies, with reference to their qualities,—bodies, namely, the works of nature, terrestrial, lifeless.
I conceive that this bifurcate method is not really philosophical or valuable: but that is not our business here. What we have to consider is whether this is what Plato meant by the term Dialectic.
The general description of Dialectic in the Sophistes agrees very closely with that quoted from the Phædrus, that it is the separation of a subject according to its natural divisions.
Thus, see in the Sophist the passage § 83: "To divide a subject according to the kinds of things, so as neither to make the same kind different nor different kinds identical, is the office of the Dialectical Science." And this is illustrated by observing that it is the office of the science of Grammar to determine what letters may be combined and what may not; it is the office of the science of Music to determine what sounds differing as acute and grave, may be combined, and what may not: and in like manner it is the office of the science of Dialectic to determine what kinds may be combined in one subject and what may not. And the proof is still further explained.
In many of the Platonic Dialogues, the Dialectic which Socrates is thus represented as approving, appears to include the form of Dialogue, as well as the subdivision of the subject into its various branches. Socrates is presented as attaching so much importance to this form, that in the Protagoras (§ 65) he rises to depart, because his opponent will not conform to this practice. And generally in Plato, Dialectic is opposed to Rhetoric, as a string of short questions and answers to a continuous dissertation.
Xenophon also seems to imply (Mem. IV. 5, 11) that Socrates included in his notion of Dialectic the form of Dialogue as well as the division of the subject.
But that the method of close Dialogue was not called Dialectic by the author of the Sophist, we have good evidence in the work itself. Among other notions which are analysed by the bifurcate division here exhibited, is that of getting by contest (Agonistic, previously given as a division of Ktetic). Now getting by contest may be by peaceful trial of superiority, or by fight: (Hamilletic or Machelic). The fight may be of body against body, or of words against words: these may be called Biastic and Amphisbetic. The fight of words about right and wrong, may be by long discourses opposed to each other, as in judicial cases; or by short questions and answers: the former may be called Dicanic, the latter Antilogic. Of these colloquies, about right and wrong, some are natural and spontaneous, others artificial and studied: the former need no special name; the latter are commonly called Eristic. Of Eristic colloquies, some are a source of expense to those who hold them, some of gain: that is, they are Chrematophthoric or Chrematistic: the former, the occupation of those who talk for pleasure's and for company's sake, is Adoleschic, wasteful garrulity; the latter, that of those who talk for the sake of gain, is Sophistic. And thus Sophistic is an art Eristic, which is part of Antilogic, which is part of Amphisbetic, which is part of Agonistic, which is part of Chirotic, which is a part of Ktetic. (§ 23.)
We may notice here an indication that satire rather than exact reason directs these analyses; in that Sophistic, which was before a part of the thereutic branch of chirotic and ktetic, is here a part of the other branch, agonistic.
But the remark which I especially wish to make here is, that the art of discussing points of right and wrong by short questions and answers, being here brought into view, is not called Dialectic, which we might have expected; but Antilogic. It would seem therefore that the Author of the Sophist did not understand by Dialectic such a process as Socrates describes in Xenophon; (Mem. IV. 5, 11, 12;) where he says it was called Dialectic, because it was followed by persons dividing things into their kinds in conversation: (κοινῇ βουλεύεσθαι διαλέγοντας:)or such as the Socrates of Plato insisted upon in the Protagoras and the Gorgias. Of the two elements which the Dialectical Process of Socrates implied, Division of the subject and Dialogue, the author of the Sophistes does not claim the name of Dialectic for either, and seems to reject it for the second.
But without insisting upon the name, are we to suppose that the Dichotomous Method of the Sophistes Dialogue, (I may add of the Politicus, for the method is the same in this Dialogue also,) is the method of division of a subject according to its natural members, of which Plato speaks in the Phædrus?
If the Sophistes be the work of Plato, the answer is difficult either way. If this method be Plato's Dialectic, how came he to omit to say so there? how came he even to seem to deny it? But on the other hand, if this dichotomous division be a different process from the division called Dialectic in the Phædrus, had Plato two methods of division of a subject? and yet has he never spoken of them as two, or marked their distinction?
This difficulty would be removed if we were to adopt the opinion, to which others, on other grounds, have been led, that the Sophistes, though of Plato's time, is not Plato's work. The grounds of this opinion are,—that the doctrines of the Sophistes are not Platonic: (the doctrine of Ideas is strongly impugned and weakly defended:) Socrates is not the principal speaker, but an Eleatic stranger: and there is, in the Dialogue, none of the dramatic character which we generally have in Plato. The Dialogue seems to be the work of some Eleatic opponent of Plato, rather than his.
(Rep. B. VII.) But we can have no doubt that the Phædrus contains Plato's real view of the nature of Dialectic, as to its form; let us see how this agrees with the view of Dialectic, as to its matter and object, given in the seventh Book of the Republic.
According to Plato, Real Existences are the objects of the exact sciences (as number and figure, of Arithmetic and Geometry). The things which are the objects of sense transitory phenomena, which have no reality, because no permanence. Dialectic deals with Realities in a more general manner. This doctrine is everywhere inculcated by Plato, and particularly in this part of the Republic. He does not tell us how we are to obtain a view of the higher realities, which are the objects of Dialectic: only he here assumes that it will result from the education which he enjoins. He says (§ 13) that the Dialectic Process (ἡ διαλεκτικὴ μέθοδος) alone leads to true science: it makes no assumptions, but goes to First Principles, that its doctrines may be firmly grounded: and thus it purges the eye of the soul, which was immersed in barbaric mud, and turns it upward; using for this purpose the aid of the sciences which have been mentioned. But when Glaucon inquires about the details of this Dialectic, Socrates says he will not then answer the inquiry. We may venture to say, that it does not appear that he had any answer ready.
Let us consider for a moment what is said about a philosophy rendering a reason for the First Principles of each Science, which the Science itself cannot do. That there is room for such a branch of philosophy in some sciences, we easily see. Geometry, for instance, proceeds from Axioms, Definitions and Postulates; but by the very nature of these terms, does not prove these First Principles. These—the Axioms, Definitions and Postulates,—are, I conceive, what Plato here calls the Hypotheses upon which Geometry proceeds, and for which it is not the business of Geometry to render a reason. According to him, it is the business of "Dialectic" to give a just account of these "Hypotheses." What then is Dialectic?
(Aristotle.) It is, I think, well worthy of remark, that Aristotle, giving an account in many respects different from that of Plato, of the nature of Dialectic, is still led in the same manner to consider Dialectic as the branch of philosophy which renders a reason for First Principles. In the Topics, we have a distinction drawn between reasoning demonstrative, and reasoning dialectical: and the distinction is this:—(Top. I. 1) that demonstration is by syllogisms from true first principles, or from true deductions from such principles; and that the Dialectical Syllogism is that which syllogizes from probable propositions (ἠξ ἠνδόξων). And he adds that probable propositions are those which are accepted by all, or by the greatest part, or by the wise. In the next chapter, he speaks of the uses of Dialectic, which, he says, are three, mental discipline, debates, and philosophical science. And he adds (Top. I. 2, 6) that it is also useful with reference to the First Principles in each Science: for from the appropriate Principles of each science we cannot deduce anything concerning First Principles, since these principles are the beginning of reasoning. But from the probable principles in each province of science we must reason concerning First Principles: and this is either the peculiar office of Dialectic, or the office most appropriate to it; for it is a process of investigation, and must lead to the Principles of all methods.
That a demonstrative science, as such, does not explain the origin of its own First Principles, is undoubtedly true. Geometry does not undertake to give a reason for the Axioms, Definitions, and Postulates. This has been attempted, both in ancient and in modern times, by the Metaphysicians. But the Metaphysics employed on such subjects has not commonly been called Dialectic. The term has certainly been usually employed rather as describing a Method, than as determining the subject of investigation. Of the Faculty which apprehends First Principles, both according to Plato and to Aristotle, I will hereafter say a few words.
The object of the dichotomous process pursued in the Sophistes, and its result in each case, is a Definition. Definition also was one of the main features of the inquiries pursued by Socrates, Induction being the other; and indeed in many cases Induction was a series of steps which ended in Definition. And Aristotle also taught a peculiar method, the object and result of which was the construction of Definitions:—namely his Categories. This method is one of division, but very different from the divisions of the Sophistes. His method begins by dividing the whole subject of possible inquiry into ten heads or Categories—Substance, Quantity, Quality, Relation, Place, Time, Position, Habit, Action, Passion. These again are subdivided: thus Quality is Habit or Disposition, Power, Affection, Form. And we have an example of the application of this method to the construction of a Definition in the Ethics; where he determines Virtue to be a Habit with certain additional limitations.
Thus the Induction of Socrates, the Dichotomy of the Eleatics, the Categories of Aristotle, may all be considered as methods by which we proceed to the construction of Definitions. If, by any method, Plato could proceed to the construction of a Definition, or rather of an Idea, of the Absolute Realities on which First Principles depend, such a method would correspond with the notion of Dialectic in the Republic. And if it was a method of division like the Eleatic or Aristotelic, it would correspond with the notion of Dialectic in the Phædrus.
That Plato's notion, however, cannot have been exactly either of these is, I think, plain. The colloquial method of stimulating and testing the progress of the student in Dialectic is implied, in the sequel of this discussion of the effect of scientific study. And the method of Dialogue, as the instrument of instruction, being thus supposed, the continuation of the account in the Republic, implies that Plato expected persons to be made dialectical by the study of the exact sciences in a comprehensive spirit. After insisting on Geometry and other sciences, he says (Rep. VII. § 16): "The synoptical man is dialectical; and he who is not the one, is not the other."
But, we may ask, does a knowledge of sciences lead naturally to a knowledge of Ideas, as absolute realities from which First Principles flow? And supposing this to be true, as the Platonic Philosophy supposes, is the Idea of the Good, as the source of moral truths, to be thus attained to? That it is, is the teaching of Plato, here and elsewhere; but have the speculations of subsequent philosophers in the same direction given any confirmation of this lofty assumption?
In reply to this inquiry, I should venture to say, that this assumption appears to be a remnant of the Socratic doctrine from which Plato began his speculations, that Virtue is a kind of knowledge; and that all attempts to verify the assumption have failed. What Plato added to the Socratic notion was, that the inquiry after The Good, the Supreme Good, was to be aided by the analogy or suggestions of those sciences which deal with necessary and eternal truths; the supreme good being of the nature of those necessary and eternal truths. This notion is a striking one, as a suggestion, but it has always failed, I think, in the attempts to work it out. Those who in modern times, as Cudworth and Samuel Clarke, have supposed an analogy between the necessary truths of Geometry and the truths of Morality, though they have used the like expressions concerning the one and the other class of truths, have failed to convey clear doctrines and steady convictions to their readers; and have now, I believe, few or no followers.
The result of our investigation appears to be, that though Plato added much to the matter by means of which the mind was to be improved and disciplined in its research after Principles and Definitions, he did not establish any form of Method according to which the inquiry must be conducted, and by which it might be aided. The most definite notion of Dialectic still remained the same with the original informal view which Socrates had taken of it, as Xenophon tells us, (Mem. IV. 5, 11) when he says: "He said that Dialectic (τὸ διαλέγεσθαι) was so called because it is an inquiry pursued by persons who take counsel together, separating the subjects considered according to their kinds (διαλέγοντας). He held accordingly that men should try to be well prepared for such a process, and should pursue it with diligence: by this means, he thought, they would become good men, fitted for responsible offices of command, and truly dialectical" (διαλέκτικωτάτους). And this is, I conceive, the answer to Mr. Grote's interrogatory exclamation (Vol. VIII. p. 577): "Surely the Etymology here given by Xenophon or Socrates of the word (διαλέγεσθαι) cannot be considered as satisfactory." The two notions, of investigatory Dialogue, and Distribution of notions according to their kinds, which are thus asserted to be connected in etymology, were, among the followers of Socrates, connected in fact; the dialectic dialogue was supposed to involve of course the dialectic division of the subject.
(Cam. Phil. Soc. Nov. 10, 1856.)
In the Seventh Book of Plato's Republic, we have certain sciences described as the instruments of a philosophical and intellectual education; and we have a certain other intellectual employment spoken of, namely, Dialectic, as the means of carrying the mind beyond these sciences, and of enabling it to see the sources of those truths which the sciences assume as their first principles. These points have been discussed in the two preceding papers. But this scheme of the highest kind of philosophical education proceeds upon a certain view of the nature and degrees of knowledge, and of the powers by which we know; which view had been presented in a great measure in the Sixth Book; this view I shall now attempt to illustrate.
To analyse the knowing powers of man is a task so difficult, that we need not be surprised if there is much obscurity in this portion of Plato's writings. But as a reason for examining what he has said, we must recollect that if there be in it anything on this subject which was true then, it is true still; and also, that if we know any truth on that subject now, we shall find something corresponding to that truth in the best speculations of sagacious ancient writers, like Plato. It may therefore be worth while to discuss the Platonic doctrines on this matter, and to inquire how they are to be expressed in modern phraseology.
Plato's doctrine will perhaps be most clearly understood, if we begin by considering the diagram by which he illustrates the different degrees of knowledge[341]. He sets out from the distinction of visible and intelligible things. There are visible objects, squares and triangles, for instance; but these are not the squares and triangles about which the Geometer reasons. The exactness of his reasoning does not depend on the exactness of his diagrams. He reasons from certain mental squares and triangles, as he conceives and understands them. "Thus there are visible and there are intelligible things. There is a visible and an intelligible world[342]: and there are two different regions about which our knowledge is concerned. Now take a line divided into two unequal segments to represent these two regions: and again, divide each segment in the same ratio. The parts of each segment are to represent differences of clearness and distinctness, and in the visible world these parts are things and images. By images I mean shadows, and reflections in water, and in polished bodies; and by things, I mean that of which these images are the resemblances; as animals, plants, things made by man. This difference corresponds to the difference of Knowledge and mere Opinion; and the Opinable is to the Knowable as the Image to the Reality."
This analogy is assented to by Glaucon; and thus there is assumed a ground for a further construction of the diagram.
"Now," he says, "we have to divide the segment which represents Intelligible Things in the same way in which we have divided that which represents Visible Things. The one part must represent the knowledge which the mind gets by dealing as it were with images, and by reasoning downwards from Principles; the other that which it has by dealing with the Ideas themselves, and going to First Principles.
"The one part depends upon assumptions or hypotheses[343], the other is unhypothetical or absolute truth.
"One kind of Intelligible Things, then, is Conceptions; for instance, geometrical conceptions of figures, by means of which we reason downwards, assuming certain First Principles.
"Now the other kind of Intelligible Things is this:—that which the Reason includes in virtue of its power of reasoning, when it regards the assumptions of the Sciences as, what they are, assumptions only; and uses them as occasions and starting points, that from these it may ascend to the absolute, (ἀνυπόθετον, unhypothetical,) which does not depend upon assumption, but is the origin of scientific truth. The Reason takes hold of this first principle of truth; and availing itself of all the connections and relations of this principle, it proceeds to the conclusion; using no sensible image in doing this, but contemplating the Ideas alone; and with these Ideas the process begins, goes on, and terminates."
This account of the matter will probably seem to require at least further explanation; and that accordingly is acknowledged in the Dialogue itself. Glaucon says:
"I apprehend your meaning in a certain degree, but not very clearly, for the matter is somewhat abstruse. You wish to prove that the knowledge which, by the Reason, we acquire, of Real Existence and Intelligible Things, is of a higher degree of certainty than the knowledge which belongs to what are commonly called Sciences. Such sciences, you say, have certain assumptions for their bases; and these assumptions are, by the students of such sciences, apprehended, not by Sense (that is, the Bodily Senses), but by a Mental Operation,—by Conception. But inasmuch as such students ascend no higher than the assumptions, and do not go to the First Principles of Truth, they do not seem to you to have true knowledge—intuitive insight—Nous—on the subject of their reasonings, though the subjects are intelligible, along with their principle. And you call this habit and practice of the Geometers and others by the name Conception, not Intuition[344]; taking Conception to be something between Opinion on the one side, and Intuitive Insight on the other."
"You have explained it well, said I. And now consider the four sections (of the line) of which we have spoken, as corresponding to four affections in the mind. Intuition, the highest; Conception, the next; the third, Belief; and the fourth, Conjecture (from likenesses); and arrange them in order, so that they may have more or less of certainty, as their objects have more or less of truth[345].
"I understand, said he. I agree to what you say, and I arrange them as you direct."
And so the Sixth Book ends: and the Seventh Book opens with the celebrated image of the Cave, in which men are confined, and see all external objects only by the shadows which they cast on the walls of their prison. And this imperfect knowledge of things is to the true vision of them, which is attained by those who ascend to the light of day, as the ordinary knowledge of men is to the knowledge attainable by those whose minds are purged and illuminated by a true philosophy.
Confining ourselves at present to the part of Plato's speculations which we have mentioned, namely, the degrees of knowledge, and the division of our knowing faculties, we may understand, and may in a great degree accept, Plato's scheme. We have already (in the preceding papers) seen that, by the knowledge of real things, he means, in the first place, the knowledge of universal and necessary truths, such as Geometry and the other exact sciences deal with. These we call sciences of Demonstration; and we are in the habit of contrasting the knowledge which constitutes such sciences with the knowledge obtained by the Senses, by Experience or mere Observation. This distinction of Demonstrative and Empirical knowledge is a cardinal point in Plato's scheme also; the former alone being allowed to deserve the name of Knowledge, and the latter being only Opinion. The Objects with which Demonstration deals may be termed Conceptions, and the objects with which Observation or Sense has to do, however much speculation may reduce them to mere Sensations, are commonly described as Things. Of these Things, there may be Shadows or Images, as Plato says; and as we may obtain a certain kind of knowledge, namely Opinion or Belief, by seeing the Things themselves, we may obtain an inferior kind of Opinion or Belief by seeing their Images, which kind of opinion we may for the moment call Conjecture. Whether then we regard the distinctions of knowledge itself or of the objects of it, we have three terms before us.
If we consider the kinds of knowledge, they are
Demonstration: Belief: Conjecture.
If the objects of this knowledge, they are
Conceptions: Things: Images.
But in each of these Series, the first term is evidently wanting: for Demonstration supposes Principles to reason from. Conceptions suppose some basis in the mind which gives them their evidence. What then is the first term in each of these two Series?
The Principles of Demonstration must be seen by Intuition.
Conceptions derive their properties from certain powers or attributes of the mind which we may term Ideas.
Therefore the two series are
Intuition: Demonstration: Belief: Conjecture.
Ideas: Conceptions: Things: Images.
Plato further teaches that the two former terms in each Series belong to the Intelligible, the two latter to the Visible World: and he supposes that the ratio of these two primary segments of the line is the same as the ratio in which each segment is divided[346].
In using the term Ideas to describe the mental sources from which Conceptions derive their validity in demonstration, I am employing a phraseology which I have already introduced in the Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences. But independently altogether of this, I do not see what other term could be employed to denote the mental objects, attributes, or powers, whatever they be, from which Conceptions derive their evidence, as Demonstrative Truths derive their evidence from Intuitive Truths.
That the Scheme just presented is Plato's doctrine on this subject, I do not conceive there can be any doubt. There is a little want of precision in his phraseology, arising from his mixing together the two series. In fact, his final series
Noësis: Dianoia: Pistis: Eikasia;
is made by putting in the second place, instead of Demonstration, which is the process pursued, or Science, which is the knowledge obtained, Conception, which is the object with which the mind deals. Such deviations from exact symmetry and correlation in speaking of the faculties of the mind, are almost unavoidable in every language. And there is yet another source of such inaccuracies of language; for we have to speak, not only of the process of acquiring knowledge, and of the objects with which the mind deals, but of the Faculties of the mind which are thus employed. Thus Intuition is the Process; Ideas are the Object, in the first term of our series. The Faculty also we may call Intuition; but the Greek offers a distinction. Noësis is the Process of Intuition; but the Faculty is Nous. If we wish to preserve this distinction in English, what must we call the Faculty? I conceive we must call it the Intuitive Reason, a term well known to our older philosophical writers[347]. Again: taking the second term of the series, Demonstration is the process, Science, the result; and Conceptions are the objects with which the mind deals. But what is the Faculty thus employed? What is the Faculty employed in Demonstration? The same philosophical writers of whom I spoke would have answered at once, the Discursive Reason; and I do not know that, even now, we can suggest any better term. The Faculty employed in acquiring the two lower kinds of knowledge, the Faculty which deals with Things and their Images is, of course, Sense, or Sensation.
The assertion of a Faculty of the mind by which it apprehends Truth, which Faculty is higher than the Discursive Reason, as the Truth apprehended by it is higher than mere Demonstrative Truth, agrees (as it will at once occur to several of my readers) with the doctrine taught and insisted upon by the late Samuel Taylor Coleridge. And so far as he was the means of inculcating this doctrine, which, as we see, is the doctrine of Plato, and I might add, of Aristotle, and of many other philosophers, let him have due honour. But in his desire to impress the doctrine upon men's minds, he combined it with several other tenets, which will not bear examination. He held that the two Faculties by which these two kinds of truth are apprehended, and which, as I have said, our philosophical writers call the Intuitive Reason and the Discursive Reason, may be called, and ought to be called, respectively, The Reason and The Understanding; and that the second of these is of the nature of the Instinct of animals, so as to be something intermediate between Reason and Instinct. These opinions, I may venture to say, are altogether erroneous. The Intuitive Reason and the Discursive Reason are not, by any English writers, called the Reason and the Understanding; and accordingly, Coleridge has had to alter all the passages, namely, those taken from Leighton, Harrington, and Bacon, from which his exposition proceeds. The Understanding is so far from being especially the Discursive or Reasoning Faculty, that it is, in universal usage, and by our best writers, opposed to the Discursive or Reasoning Faculty. Thus this is expressly declared by Sir John Davis in his poem On the Immortality of the Soul. He says, of the soul,
Instead of the Reason being fixed, and the Understanding discursive, as Mr. Coleridge says, the Reason is distinctively discursive; that is, it obtains conclusions by running from one point to another. This is what is meant by Discursus; or, taking the full term, Discursus Rationis, Discourse of Reason. Understanding is fixed, that is, it dwells upon one view of a subject, and not upon the steps by which that view is obtained. The verb to reason, implies the substantive, the Reason, though it is not coextensive with it: for as I have said, there is the Intuitive Reason as well as the Discursive Reason. But it is by the Faculty of Reason that we are capable of reasoning; though undoubtedly the practice or the pretence of reasoning may be carried so far as to seem at variance with reason in the more familiar sense of the term; as is the case also in French. Moliere's Crisale says (in the Femmes Savantes),
If Mr. Coleridge's assertion were true, that the Understanding is the discursive and the Reason the fixed faculty, we should be justified in saying that The Understanding is the faculty by which we reason, and the Reason is the faculty by which we understand. But this is not so.
Nor is the Understanding of the nature of Instinct, nor does it approach nearer than the Reason to the nature of Instinct, but the contrary. The Instincts of animals bear a very obscure resemblance to any of man's speculative Faculties; but so far as there is any such resemblance, Instinct is an obscure image of Reason, not of Understanding. Animals are said to act as if they reasoned, rather than as if they understood. The verb understand is especially applied to man as distinguished from animals. Mr. Coleridge tells a tale from Huber, of certain bees which, to prevent a piece of honey from falling, balanced it by their weight, while they built a pillar to support it. They did this by Instinct, not understanding what they did; men, doing the same, would have understood what they were doing. Our Translation of the Scriptures, in making it the special distinction of man and animals, that he has Understanding and they have not, speaks quite consistently with good philosophy and good English.
Mr. Coleridge's object in his speculations is nearly the same as Plato's; namely, to declare that there is a truth of a higher kind than can be obtained by mere reasoning; and also to claim, as portions of this higher truth, certain fundamental doctrines of Morality. Among these, Mr. Coleridge places the Authority of Conscience, and Plato, the Supreme Good. Mr. Coleridge also holds, as Plato held, that the Reason of man, in its highest and most comprehensive form, is a portion of a Supreme and Universal Reason; and leads to Truth, not in virtue of its special attributes in each person, but by its own nature.
Many of the opinions which are combined with these doctrines, both in Plato and in Coleridge, are such as we should, I think, find it impossible to accept, upon a careful philosophical examination of them; but on these I shall not here dwell.
I will only further observe, that if any one were to doubt whether the term Νοῦς is rightly rendered Intuitive Reason, we may find proof of the propriety of such a rendering in the remarkable discussion concerning the Intellectual Virtues, which we have in the Sixth Book of the Nicomachean Ethics. It can hardly be questioned that Aristotle had in his mind, in writing that passage, the doctrines of Plato, as expounded in the passage just examined, and similar passages. Aristotle there says that there are five Intellectual Virtues, or Faculties by which the Mind aims at Truth in asserting or denying:—namely, Art, Science, Prudence, Wisdom, Nous. In this enumeration, passing over Art, Prudence, and Wisdom, as virtues which are mainly concerned from practical life, we have, in the region of speculative Truth, a distinction propounded between Science and Nous: and this distinction is further explained (c. 6) by the remarks that Science reasons with Principles; and that these Principles cannot be given by Science, because Science reasons from them; nor by Art, nor Prudence, for these are conversant with matters contingent, not with matters demonstrable; nor can the First Principles of the Reasonings of Science be given by Wisdom, for Wisdom herself has often to reason from Principles. Therefore the First Principles of Demonstrative Reasoning must be given by a peculiar Faculty, Nous. As we have said, Intuitive Reason is the most appropriate English term for this Faculty.
The view thus given of that higher kind of Knowledge which Plato and Aristotle place above ordinary Science, as being the Knowledge of and Faculty of learning First Principles, will enable us to explain some expressions which might otherwise be misunderstood. Socrates, in the concluding part of this Sixth Book of the Republic, says, that this kind of knowledge is "that of which the Reason (λόγος) takes hold, in virtue of its power of reasoning[348]." Here we are plainly not to understand that we arrive at First Principles by reasoning: for the very opposite is true, and is here taught;—namely, that First Principles are not what we reason to, but what we reason from. The meaning of this passage plainly is, that First Principles are those of which the Reason takes hold in virtue of its power of reasoning;—they are the conditions which must exist in order to make any reasoning possible:—they are the propositions which the Reason must involve implicitly, in order that we may reason explicitly;—they are the intuitive roots of the dialectical power.
In accordance with the views now explained, Plato's Diagram may be thus further expanded. The term ιδέα is not used in this part of the Republic; but, as is well known, occurs in its peculiar Platonic sense in the Tenth Book.
| Intelligible World. νοητον. | Visible World. ορατον. | |||
| Object | Ideas ἰδέαι |
Conceptions διάνοια |
Things ζῶα κ.τ.λ. |
Images εἰκἰνες |
| Process | Intuition νἰησις |
Demonstration ἐπιστήμη |
Belief πίστις |
Conjecture είκασία |
| Faculty | Intuitive Reason νοῦς |
Discursive Reason λόγος |
Sensation αἴσθησις | |
(Cam. Phil. Soc. Feb. 11, 1850.)
The Cambridge Philosophical Society has willingly admitted among its proceedings not only contributions to science, but also to the philosophy of science; and it is to be presumed that this willingness will not be less if the speculations concerning the philosophy of science which are offered to the Society involve a reference to ancient authors. Induction, the process by which general truths are collected from particular examples, is one main point in such philosophy: and the comparison of the views of Induction entertained by ancient and modern writers has already attracted much notice. I do not intend now to go into this subject at any length; but there is a cardinal passage on the subject in Aristotle's Analytics, (Analyt. Prior. II. 25) which I wish to explain and discuss. I will first translate it, making such emendations as are requisite to render it intelligible and consistent, of which I shall afterwards give an account.
I will number the sentences of this chapter of Aristotle in order that I may afterwards be able to refer to them readily.
§ 1. "We must now proceed to observe that we have to examine not only syllogisms according to the aforesaid figures,—syllogisms logical and demonstrative,—but also rhetorical syllogisms,—and, speaking generally, any kind of proof by which belief is influenced, following any method.
§ 2. "All belief arises either from Syllogism or from Induction: [we must now therefore treat of Induction.]
§ 3. "Induction, and the Inductive Syllogism, is when by means of one extreme term we infer the other extreme term to be true of the middle term.
§ 4. "Thus if A, C, be the extremes, and B the mean, we have to show, by means of C, that A is true of B.
§ 5. "Thus let A be long-lived; B, that which has no gall-bladder; and C, particular long-lived animals, as elephant, horse, mule.
§ 6. "Then every C is A, for all the animals above named are long-lived.
§ 7. "Also every C is B, for all those animals are destitute of gall-bladder.
§ 8. "If then B and C are convertible, and the mean (B) does not extend further than extreme (C), it necessarily follows that every B is A.
§ 9. "For it was shown before, that, if any two things be true of the same, and if either of them be convertible with the extreme, the other of the things predicated is true of the convertible (extreme).
§ 10. "But we must conceive that C consists of a collection of all the particular cases; for Induction is applied to all the cases.
§ 11. "But such a syllogism is an inference of a first truth and immediate proposition.
§ 12. "For when there is a mean term, there is a demonstrative syllogism through the mean; but when there is not a mean, there is proof by Induction.
§ 13. "And in a certain way, Induction is contrary to Syllogism; for Syllogism proves, by the middle term, that the extreme is true of the third thing: but Induction proves, by means of the third thing, that the extreme is true of the mean.
§ 14. "And Syllogism concluding by means of a middle term is prior by nature and more usual to us; but the proof by Induction, is more luminous."
I think that the chapter, thus interpreted, is quite coherent and intelligible; although at first there seems to be some confusion, from the author sometimes saying that Induction is a kind of Syllogism, and at other times that it is not. The amount of the doctrine is this.
When we collect a general proposition by Induction from particular cases, as for instance, that all animals destitute of gall-bladder (acholous), are long-lived, (if this proposition were true, of which hereafter,) we may express the process in the form of a Syllogism, if we will agree to make a collection of particular cases our middle term, and assume that the proposition in which the second extreme term occurs is convertible. Thus the known propositions are
Elephant, horse, mule, &c., are long-lived.
Elephant, horse, mule, &c., are acholous.
But if we suppose that the latter proposition is convertible, we shall have these propositions:
Elephant, horse, mule, &c., are long-lived.
All acholous animals are elephant, horse, mule, &c.,
from whence we infer, quite rigorously as to form,
All acholous animals are long-lived.
This mode of putting the Inductive inference shows both the strong and the weak point of the illustration of Induction by means of Syllogism. The strong point is this, that we make the inference perfect as to form, by including an indefinite collection of particular cases, elephant, horse, mule, &c., in a single term, C. The Syllogism then is
All C are long-lived.
All acholous animals are C.
Therefore all acholous animals are long-lived.
The weak point of this illustration is, that, at least in some instances, when the number of actual cases is necessarily indefinite, the representation of them as a single thing involves an unauthorized step. In order to give the reasoning which really passes in the mind, we must say
Elephant, horse, &c., are long-lived.
All acholous animals are as elephant, horse, &c.,
Therefore all acholous animals are long-lived.
This "as" must be introduced in order that the "all C" of the first proposition may be justified by the "C" of the second.
This step is, I say, necessarily unauthorized, where the number of particular cases is indefinite; as in the instance before us, the species of acholous animals. We do not know how many such species there are, yet we wish to be able to assert that all acholous animals are long-lived. In the proof of such a proposition, put in a syllogistic form, there must necessarily be a logical defect; and the above discussion shows that this defect is the substitution of the proposition, "All acholous animals are as elephant, &c.," for the converse of the experimentally proved proposition, "elephant, &c., are acholous."
In instances in which the number of particular cases is limited, the necessary existence of a logical flaw in the syllogistic translation of the process is not so evident. But in truth, such a flaw exists in all cases of Induction proper: (for Induction by mere enumeration can hardly be called Induction). I will, however, consider for a moment the instance of a celebrated proposition which has often been taken as an example of Induction, and in which the number of particular cases is, or at least is at present supposed to be, limited. Kepler's laws, for instance the law that the planets describe ellipses, may be regarded as examples of Induction. The law was inferred, we will suppose, from an examination of the orbits of Mars, Earth, Venus. And the syllogistic illustration which Aristotle gives, will, with the necessary addition to it, stand thus,
Mars, Earth, Venus describe ellipses.
Mars, Earth, Venus are planets.
Assuming the convertibility of this last proposition, and its universality, (which is the necessary addition in order to make Aristotle's syllogism valid) we say
All the planets are as Mars, Earth, Venus.
Whence it follows that all the planets describe ellipses.
If, instead of this assumed universality, the astronomer had made a real enumeration, and had established the fact of each particular, he would be able to say
Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Earth, Venus, Mercury, describe ellipses.
Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Earth, Venus, Mercury are all the planets.
And he would obviously be entitled to convert the second proposition, and then to conclude that
All the planets describe ellipses.
But then, if this were given as an illustration of Induction by means of syllogism, we should have to remark, in the first place, that the conclusion that "all the planets describe ellipses," adds nothing to the major proposition, that "S., J., M., E., V., m., do so." It is merely the same proposition expressed in other words, so long as S., J., M., E., V., m., are supposed to be all the planets. And in the next place we have to make a remark which is more important; that the minor, in such an example, must generally be either a very precarious truth, or, as appears in this case, a transitory error. For that the planets known at any time are all the planets, must always be a doubtful assertion, liable to be overthrown to-night by an astronomical observation. And the assertion, as received in Kepler's time, has been overthrown. For Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Earth, Venus, Mercury, are not all the planets. Not only have several new ones been discovered at intervals, as Uranus, Ceres, Juno, Pallas, Vesta, but we have new ones discovered every day; and any conclusion depending upon this premiss that A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, to Z are all the planets, is likely to be falsified in a few years by the discovery of A´, B´, C´, &c. If, therefore, this were the syllogistic analysis of Induction, Kepler's discovery rested upon a false proposition; and even if the analysis were now made conformable to our present knowledge, that induction, analysed as above, would still involve a proposition which to-morrow may show to be false. But yet no one, I suppose, doubts that Kepler's discovery was really a discovery—the establishment of a scientific truth on solid grounds; or, that it is a scientific truth for us, notwithstanding that we are constantly discovering new planets. Therefore the syllogistic analysis of it now discussed (namely, that which introduces simple enumeration as a step) is not the right analysis, and does not represent the grounds of the Inductive Truth, that all the planets describe ellipses.
It may be said that all the planets discovered since Kepler's time conform to his law, and thus confirm his discovery. This we grant: but they only confirm the discovery, they do not make it; they are not its groundwork. It was a discovery before these new cases were known; it was an inductive truth without them. Still, an objector might urge, if any one of these new planets had contradicted the law, it would have overturned the discovery. But this is too boldly said. A discovery which is so precise, so complex (in the phenomena which it explains), so supported by innumerable observations extending through space and time, is not so easily overturned. If we find that Uranus, or that Encke's comet, deviates from Kepler's and Newton's laws, we do not infer that these laws must be false; we say that there must be some disturbing cause in these cases. We seek, and we find these disturbing causes: in the case of Uranus, a new planet; in the case of Encke's comet, a resisting medium. Even in this case therefore, though the number of particulars is limited, the Induction was not made by a simple enumeration of all the particulars. It was made from a few cases, and when the law was discerned to be true in these, it was extended to all; the conversion and assumed universality of the proposition that "these are planets," giving us the proposition which we need for the syllogistic exhibition of Induction, "all the planets are as these."
I venture to say further, that it is plain, that Aristotle did not regard Induction as the result of simple enumeration. This is plain, in the first place, from his example. Any proposition with regard to a special class of animals, cannot be proved by simple enumeration: for the number of particular cases, that is, of animal species in the class, is indefinite at any period of zoological discovery, and must be regarded as infinite. In the next place, Aristotle says (§ 10 of the above extract), "We must conceive that C consists of a collection of all the particular cases; for induction is applied to all the cases." We must conceive (νοεῖν) that C in the major, consists of all the cases, in order that the conclusion may be true of all the cases; but we cannot observe all the cases. But the evident proof that Aristotle does not contemplate in this chapter an Induction by simple enumeration, is the contrast in which he places Induction and Syllogism. For Induction by simple enumeration stands in no contrast to Syllogism. The Syllogism of such Induction is quite logical and conclusive. But Induction from a comparatively small number of particular cases to a general law, does stand in opposition to Syllogism. It gives us a truth,—a truth which, as Aristotle says (§ 14), is more luminous than a truth proved syllogistically, though Syllogism may be more natural and usual. It gives us (§ 11) immediate propositions, obtained directly from observation, and not by a chain of reasoning: "first truths," the principles from which syllogistic reasonings may be deduced. The Syllogism proves by means of a middle term (§ 13) that the extreme is true of a third thing: thus, (acholous being the middle term):
Acholous animals are long-lived:
All elephants are acholous animals:
Therefore all elephants are long-lived.
But Induction proves by means of a third thing (namely, particular cases) that the extreme is true of the mean; thus (acholous, still being the middle term)
Elephants are long-lived:
Elephants are acholous animals:
Therefore acholous animals are long-lived.
It may be objected, such reasoning as this is quite inconclusive: and the answer is, that this is precisely what we, and as I believe, Aristotle, are here pointing out. Induction is inconclusive as reasoning. It is not reasoning: it is another way of getting at truth. As we have seen, no reasoning can prove such an inductive truth as this, that all planets describe ellipses. It is known from observation, but it is not demonstrated. Nevertheless, no one doubts its universal truth, (except, as aforesaid, when disturbing causes intervene). And thence, Induction is, as Aristotle says, opposed to syllogistic reasoning, and yet is a means of discovering truth: not only so, but a means of discovering primary truths, immediately derived from observation.
I have elsewhere taught that all Induction involves a Conception of the mind applied to facts. It may be asked whether this applies in such a case as that given by Aristotle. And I reply, that Aristotle's instance is a very instructive example of what I mean. The Conception which is applied to the facts in order to make the induction possible is the want of the gall-bladder;—and Aristotle supplies us with a special term for this conception; acholous[349]. But, it may be said, that the animals observed, the elephant, horse, mule, &c., are acholous, is a mere fact of observation, not a Conception. I reply that it is a Selected Fact, a fact selected and compared in several cases, which is what we mean by a Conception. That there is needed for such selection and comparison a certain activity of the mind, is evident; but this also may become more clear by dwelling a little further on the subject. Suppose that Aristotle, having a desire to know what class of animals are long-lived, had dissected for that purpose many animals; elephants, horses, cows, sheep, goats, deer and the like. How many resemblances, how many differences, must he have observed in their anatomy! He was very likely long in fixing upon any one resemblance which was common to all the long-lived. Probably he tried several other characters, before he tried the presence and absence of the gall-bladder:—perhaps, trying such characters, he found them succeed for a few cases, and then fail in others, so that he had to reject them as useless for his purpose. All the while, the absence of the gall-bladder in the long-lived animals was a fact: but it was of no use to him, because he had not selected it and drawn it forth from the mass of other facts. He was looking for a mean term to connect his first extreme, long-lived, with his second, the special cases. He sought this middle term in the entrails of the many animals which he used as extremes: it was there, but he could not find it. The fact existed, but it was of no use for the purpose of Induction, because it did not become a special Conception in his mind. He considered the animals in various points of view, it may be, as ruminant, as horned, as hoofed, and the contrary; but not as acholous and the contrary. When he looked at animals in that point of view,—when he took up that character as the ground of distinction, he forthwith imagined that he found a separation of long-lived and short-lived animals. When that Fact became a Conception, he obtained an inductive truth, or, at any rate, an inductive proposition.
He obtained an inductive proposition by applying the Conception acholous to his observation of animals. This Conception divided them into two classes; and these classes were, he fancied, long-lived and short-lived respectively. That it was the Conception, and not the Fact which enabled him to obtain his inductive proposition, is further plain from this, that the supposed Fact is not a fact. Acholous animals are not longer-lived than others. The presence or absence of the gall-bladder is no character of longevity. It is true, that in one familiar class of animals, the herbivorous kind, there is a sort of first seeming of the truth of Aristotle's asserted rule: for the horse and mule which have not the gall-bladder are longer-lived than the cow, sheep, and goat, which have it. But if we pursue the investigation further, the rule soon fails. The deer-tribe that want the gall-bladder are not longer-lived than the other ruminating animals which have it. And as a conspicuous evidence of the falsity of the rule, man and the elephant are perhaps, for their size, the longest-lived animals, and of these, man has, and the elephant has not, the organ in question. The inductive proposition, then, is false; but what we have mainly to consider is, where the fallacy enters, according to Aristotle's analysis of Induction into Syllogism. For the two premisses are still true; that elephants, &c., are long-lived; and that elephants, &c., are acholous. And it is plain that the fallacy comes in with that conversion and generalization of the latter proposition, which we have noted as necessary to Aristotle's illustration of Induction. When we say "All acholous animals are as elephants, &c.," that is, as those in their biological conditions, we say what is not true. Aristotle's condition (§ 8) is not complied with, that the middle term shall not extend beyond the extreme. For the character acholous does extend beyond the elephant and the animals biologically resembling it; it extends to deer, &c., which are not like elephants and horses, in the point in question. And thus, we see that the assumed conversion and generalization of the minor proposition, is the seat of the fallacy of false Inductions, as it is the seat of the peculiar logical character of true Inductions.
As true Inductive Propositions cannot be logically demonstrated by syllogistic rules, so they cannot be discovered by any rule. There is no formula for the discovery of inductive truth. It is caught by a peculiar sagacity, or power of divination, for which no precepts can be given. But from what has been said, we see that this sagacity shows itself in the discovery of propositions which are both true, and convertible in the sense above explained. Both these steps may be difficult. The former is often very laborious: and when the labour has been expended, and a true proposition obtained, it may turn out useless, because the proposition is not convertible. It was a matter of great labour to Kepler to prove (from calculation of observations) that Mars moves elliptically. Before he proved this, he had tried to prove many similar propositions:—that Mars moved according to the "bisection of the eccentricity,"—according to the "vicarious hypothesis,"—according to the "physical hypothesis,"—and the like; but none of these was found to be exactly true. The proposition that Mars moves elliptically was proved to be true. But still, there was the question, Is it convertible? Do all the planets move as Mars moves? This was proved, (suppose,) to be true, for the Earth and Venus. But still the question remains, Do all the planets move as Mars, Earth, Venus, do? The inductive generalizing impulse boldly answers, Yes, to this question; though the rules of Syllogism do not authorize the answer, and though there remain untried cases. The inductive Philosopher tries the cases as fast as they occur, in order to confirm his previous conviction; but if he had to wait for belief and conviction till he had tried every case, he never could have belief or conviction of such a proposition at all. He is prepared to modify or add to his inductive truth according as new cases and new observations instruct him; but he does not fear that new cases or new observations will overturn an inductive proposition established by exact comparison of many complex and various phenomena.
Aristotle's example offers somewhat similar reflections. He had to establish a proposition concerning long-lived animals, which should be true, and should be susceptible of generalized conversion. To prove that the elephant, horse and mule are destitute of gall-bladder required, at least, the labour of anatomizing those animals in the seat of that organ. But this labour was not enough; for he would find those animals to agree in many other things besides in being acholous. He must have selected that character somewhat at a venture. And the guess was wrong, as a little more labour would have shown him; if for instance he had dissected deer: for they are acholous, and yet short-lived. A trial of this kind would have shown him that the extreme term, acholous, did extend beyond the mean, namely, animals such as elephant, horse, mule; and therefore, that the conversion was not allowable, and that the Induction was untenable. In truth, there is no relation between bile and longevity[350], and this example given by Aristotle of generalization from induction is an unfortunate one.
In discussing this passage of Aristotle, I have made two alterations in the text, one of which is necessary on account of the fact; the other on account of the sense. In the received text, the particular examples of long-lived animals given are man, horse, and mule (ἐφ' ᾧ δὲ Γ, τὸ καθέκαστον μακρόβιον, οἷον ἄνθρωπος, καὶ ἵππος, καὶ ἡμίονος). And it is afterwards said that all these are acholous: (ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ Β, τὸ μὴ ἔχον χολὴν, παντὶ ὑπάρχει τῷ Γ). But man has a gall-bladder: and the fact was well known in Aristotle's time, for instance, to Hippocrates; so that it is not likely that Aristotle would have made the mistake which the text contains. But at any rate, it is a mistake; if not of the transcriber, of Aristotle; and it is impossible to reason about the passage, without correcting the mistake. The substitution of ἔλεφας for ἄνθρωπος makes the reasoning coherent; but of course, any other acholous long-lived animal would do so equally well.
The other emendation which I have made is in § 6. In the received text § 6 and 7 stand thus:
6. Then every C is A, for every acholous animal is long-lived
(τῷ δὴ Γ ὅλω ὑπάρχει τὸ Α, πᾶν γὰρ τὸ ἄχολον μακρόβιον).
7. Also every C is B, for all C is destitute of bile.
Whence it may be inferred, says Aristotle, under certain conditions, that every B is A (τὸ Α τῷ Β ὑπάρχειν) that is, that every acholous animal is long-lived. But this conclusion is, according to the common reading, identical with the major premiss; so that the passage is manifestly corrupt. I correct it by substituting for ἄχολον, Γ; and thus reading πᾶν γὰρ τὸ Γ μακρόβιον "for every C is long-lived:" just as in the parallel sentence, 7, we have ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ Β, τὸ μὴ ἔχον χολην, παντὶ ὑπάρχει τῷ Γ. In this way the reasoning becomes quite clear. The corrupt substitution of ἄχολον for Γ may have been made in various ways; which I need not suggest. As my business is with the sense of the passage, and as it makes no sense without the change, and very good sense with it, I cannot hesitate to make the emendation. And these emendations being made, Aristotle's view of the nature and force of Induction becomes, I think, perfectly clear and very instructive.
ADDITIONAL NOTE.
I take the liberty of adding to this Memoir the following remarks, for which I am indebted to Mr.Edleston, Fellow of Trinity College.
Several of the earlier editions of Aristotle have γ instead of ἄχολον in the passage referred to in the above paper: ex. gr.
(1) The edition printed at Basle, 1539 (after Erasmus): "τὸ γ."
(2) Basil (Erasmus) 1550. "τὸ γ."
(3) Burana's Latin version, Venet. 1552, has "omne enim C longævum."
(4) Sylburg, Francf. 1587 "τὸ γ" is printed in brackets thus: "[τὸ γ] τὸ ἄχολον."
(5) So also in Casaubon's edition, 1590.
(6) Casaub. 1605 "τὸ γ," (though the Latin version has "vacans bile;") not "[τὸ γ] τὸ ἄχολον," as the edition of 1590.
(7) In the edition printed Aurel. Allobr. 1607, "[τὸ γ] τὸ ἄχολον," as in (4) and (5).
(8) Du Val's editions, Paris, 1619, 1629, 1654 "τὸ γ," though in Pacius's translation in the adjacent column we find "vacans bile."
(9) In the critical notes to Waitz's edition of the Organon (Lips. 1844) it is stated that "post ἄχολον del. γ. n," implying apparently, that in the MS. marked n, the letter γ, which had been originally written after ἄχολον, had been erased.
The following passages throw light upon the question whether ἄνθρωπος ought or ought not to be retained in the passage discussed in the Memoir.
(A) Aristot. De Animalibus Histor. II. 15, 9 (Bekk.), τῶν μὲν ζωοτόκων καὶ τετραπόδων ἔλαφος οὐκ ἔχει [χολήν] οὐδὲ πρόξ, ἕτι δὲ ἵππος, ὀρεύς, ὄνος, φώκη καὶ τῶν ὑῶν ἔνιοι.... Ἔχει δὲ καὶ ὁ ἐλέφας τὸ ῆπαρ ἄχολον μέν, κ.τ.λ.
(B) Conf. Ib. I. 17, 10, 11. (In the beginning of Chap. 16, he says that the external μορια of man are γνώριμα, "τὰ δ' ἐντὸς τοὐναντίον. Ἄγνωστα γάρ ἐστι μάλιστα τὰ τῶν ἀνθρώπων, ὡστε δεῖ πρὸς τὰ τῶν ἄλλων μόρια ζώων ἀνάγοντας σκοπεῖν," ...)
(C) Id De Part. Animal. IV. 2, 2. τὰ μὲν γὰρ ὅλως οὐκ ἕχει χολήν, οἷον ἱππος και ὀρεύς καὶ ονος καὶ ἔλαφος καὶ πρόξ..... Ἐν δὲ τοῖς γένεσι τοῖς αὐτοῖς τὰ μὲν ἔχειν φαίνεται, τὰ δ' οὐκ ἔχειν, οἷον ἐν τῷ τῶν μυῶν. Τούτων δ' ἐστὶ καὶ ὁ ἄνθρωπος· ἔνιοι μὲν γὰρ φαίνονται ἔχοντες χολὴν ἐπὶ του ἥπατος, ἔνιοι δ' οὐκ ἔχοντες. Διο καὶ γίνεται ἀμφισβήτησις περὶ ὁλου τοῦ γένους· οἱ γὰρ ἐντυχόντες ὁποτερωσοῦν ἔχουσι περὶ πάντων ὑπολαμβάνουσιν ὡς ἁπάντων ἐχόντων.....
(D) Ib. § 11. Διὸ καὶ χαριέστατα λέγουσι τῶν ῶρχαίων ὁι φάσκοντες αἴτιον εῖναι τοῦ πλείω ζῆν χρόνον το μὴ ἔχειν χολήν, βλέψαντες ἐπὶ τὰ μωνυχα και τὰς ελαφους· ταῦτα γὰρ ἄχολά τε καὶ ζῇ πολὺν χρόνον. Ἔτι δὲ καὶ τὰ μὴ ἑωραμένα ὑπ' ἐκείνων ὁτι οὐκ ἔχει χολήν, οἷον δελφις καὶ κάμηλος, καὶ ταῦτα τυγχάνει μακρόβια ὄντα. Εὔλογον γάρ, κ.τ.λ.
(E) The elephant and man are mentioned together as long-lived animals (De Long. et Brev. Vitæ, IV. 2, and De Generat. Animal. IV. 10, 2.)
The following is the import of these passages: