In the same manner in which a special or technical definition has for its object to expound the artificial classification out of which it grows; the Aristotelian logicians seem to have imagined that it was also the business of ordinary definition to expound the ordinary, and what they deemed the natural, classification of things, namely, the division of them into Kinds; and to show the place which each Kind occupies, as superior, collateral, or subordinate, among other Kinds. This notion would account for the rule that all definition must necessarily be per genus et differentiam, and would also explain why a single differentia was deemed sufficient. But to expound, or express in words, a distinction of Kind, has already been shown to be an impossibility: the very meaning of a Kind is, that the properties which distinguish it do not grow out of one another, and can not therefore be set forth in words, even by implication, otherwise than by enumerating them alclass="underline" and all are not known, nor are ever likely to be so. It is idle, therefore, to look to this as one of the purposes of a definition: while, if it be only required that the definition of a Kind should indicate what kinds include it or are included by it, any definitions which expound the connotation of the names will do this: for the name of each class must necessarily connote enough of its properties to fix the boundaries of the class. If the definition, therefore, be a full statement of the connotation, it is all that a definition can be required to be.[43]
§ 5. Of the two incomplete and popular modes of definition, and in what they differ from the complete or philosophical mode, enough has now been said. We shall next examine an ancient doctrine, once generally prevalent and still by no means exploded, which I regard as the source of a great part of the obscurity hanging over some of the most important processes of the understanding in the pursuit of truth. According to this, the definitions of which we have now treated are only one of two sorts into which definitions may be divided, viz., definitions of names, and definitions of things. The former are intended to explain the meaning of a term; the latter, the nature of a thing; the last being incomparably the most important.
This opinion was held by the ancient philosophers, and by their followers, with the exception of the Nominalists; but as the spirit of modern metaphysics, until a recent period, has been on the whole a Nominalist spirit, the notion of definitions of things has been to a certain extent in abeyance, still continuing, however, to breed confusion in logic, by its consequences indeed rather than by itself. Yet the doctrine in its own proper form now and then breaks out, and has appeared (among other places) where it was scarcely to be expected, in a justly admired word, Archbishop Whately’s Logic.[44] In a review of that work published by me in the Westminster Review for January, 1828, and containing some opinions which I no longer entertain, I find the following observations on the question now before us; observations with which my present view of that question is still sufficiently in accordance.
“The distinction between nominal and real definitions, between definitions of words and what are called definitions of things, though conformable to the ideas of most of the Aristotelian logicians, can not, as it appears to us, be maintained. We apprehend that no definition is ever intended to ‘explain and unfold the nature of a thing.’ It is some confirmation of our opinion, that none of those writers who have thought that there were definitions of things, have ever succeeded in discovering any criterion by which the definition of a thing can be distinguished from any other proposition relating to the thing. The definition, they say, unfolds the nature of the thing: but no definition can unfold its whole nature; and every proposition in which any quality whatever is predicated of the thing, unfolds some part of its nature. The true state of the case we take to be this. All definitions are of names, and of names only; but, in some definitions, it is clearly apparent, that nothing is intended except to explain the meaning of the word; while in others, besides explaining the meaning of the word, it is intended to be implied that there exists a thing, corresponding to the word. Whether this be or be not implied in any given case, can not be collected from the mere form of the expression. ‘A centaur is an animal with the upper parts of a man and the lower parts of a horse,’ and ‘A triangle is a rectilineal figure with three sides,’ are, in form, expressions precisely similar; although in the former it is not implied that any thing, conformable to the term, really exists, while in the latter it is; as may be seen by substituting in both definitions, the word means for is. In the first expression, ‘A centaur means an animal,’ etc., the sense would remain unchanged: in the second, ‘A triangle means,’ etc., the meaning would be altered, since it would be obviously impossible to deduce any of the truths of geometry from a proposition expressive only of the manner in which we intend to employ a particular sign.
“There are, therefore, expressions, commonly passing for definitions, which include in themselves more than the mere explanation of the meaning of a term. But it is not correct to call an expression of this sort a peculiar kind of definition. Its difference from the other kind consists in this, that it is not a definition, but a definition and something more. The definition above given of a triangle, obviously comprises not one, but two propositions, perfectly distinguishable. The one is, ‘There may exist a figure, bounded by three straight lines;’ the other, ‘And this figure may be termed a triangle.’ The former of these propositions is not a definition at alclass="underline" the latter is a mere nominal definition, or explanation of the use and application of a term. The first is susceptible of truth or falsehood, and may therefore be made the foundation of a train of reasoning. The latter can neither be true nor false; the only character it is susceptible of is that of conformity or disconformity to the ordinary usage of language.”
There is a real distinction, then, between definitions of names, and what are erroneously called definitions of things; but it is, that the latter, along with the meaning of a name, covertly asserts a matter of fact. This covert assertion is not a definition, but a postulate. The definition is a mere identical proposition, which gives information only about the use of language, and from which no conclusions affecting matters of fact can possibly be drawn. The accompanying postulate, on the other hand, affirms a fact, which may lead to consequences of every degree of importance. It affirms the actual or possible existence of Things possessing the combination of attributes set forth in the definition; and this, if true, may be foundation sufficient on which to build a whole fabric of scientific truth.
We have already made, and shall often have to repeat, the remark, that the philosophers who overthrew Realism by no means got rid of the consequences of Realism, but retained long afterward, in their own philosophy, numerous propositions which could only have a rational meaning as part of a Realistic system. It had been handed down from Aristotle, and probably from earlier times, as an obvious truth, that the science of Geometry is deduced from definitions. This, so long as a definition was considered to be a proposition “unfolding the nature of the thing,” did well enough. But Hobbes followed, and rejected utterly the notion that a definition declares the nature of the thing, or does any thing but state the meaning of a name; yet he continued to affirm as broadly as any of his predecessors, that the ἀρχαὶ, principia, or original premises of mathematics, and even of all science, are definitions; producing the singular paradox, that systems of scientific truth, nay, all truths whatever at which we arrive by reasoning, are deduced from the arbitrary conventions of mankind concerning the signification of words.
43
Professor Bain, in his Logic, takes a peculiar view of Definition. He holds (i., 71) with the present work, that “the definition in its full import, is the sum of all the properties connoted by the name; it exhausts the meaning of a word.” But he regards the meaning of a general name as including, not indeed all the common properties of the class named, but all of them that are ultimate properties, not resolvable into one another. “The enumeration of the attributes of oxygen, of gold, of man, should be an enumeration of the final (so far as can be made out), the underivable, powers or functions of each,” and nothing less than this is a complete Definition (i., 75). An independent property, not derivable from other properties, even if previously unknown, yet as soon as discovered becomes, according to him, part of the meaning of the term, and should be included in the definition. “When we are told that diamond, which we know to be a transparent, glittering, hard, and high-priced substance, is composed of carbon, and is combustible, we must put these additional properties on the same level as the rest; to us they are henceforth connoted by the name” (i., 73). Consequently the propositions that diamond is composed of carbon, and that it is combustible, are regarded by Mr. Bain as merely verbal propositions. He carries this doctrine so far as to say that unless mortality can be shown to be a consequence of the ultimate laws of animal organization, mortality is connoted by man, and “Man is Mortal” is a merely verbal proposition. And one of the peculiarities (I think a disadvantageous peculiarity) of his able and valuable treatise, is the large number of propositions requiring proof, and learned by experience, which, in conformity with this doctrine, he considers as not real, but verbal, propositions.
The objection I have to this language is that it confounds, or at least confuses, a much more important distinction than that which it draws. The only reason for dividing Propositions into real and verbal, is in order to discriminate propositions which convey information about facts, from those which do not. A proposition which affirms that an object has a given attribute, while designating the object by a name which already signifies the attribute, adds no information to that which was already possessed by all who understood the name. But when this is said, it is implied that, by the signification of a name, is meant the signification attached to it in the common usage of life. I can not think we ought to say that the meaning of a word includes matters of fact which are unknown to every person who uses the word unless he has learned them by special study of a particular department of Nature; or that because a few persons are aware of these matters of fact, the affirmation of them is a proposition conveying no information. I hold that (special scientific connotation apart) a name means, or connotes, only the properties which it is a mark of in the general mind; and that in the case of any additional properties, however uniformly found to accompany these, it remains possible that a thing which did not possess the properties might still be thought entitled to the name. Ruminant, according to Mr. Bain’s use of language, connotes cloven-hoofed, since the two properties are always found together, and no connection has ever been discovered between them: but ruminant does not mean cloven-hoofed; and were an animal to be discovered which chews the cud, but has its feet undivided, I venture to say that it would still be called ruminant.
44
In the fuller discussion which Archbishop Whately has given to this subject in his later editions, he almost ceases to regard the definitions of names and those of things as, in any important sense, distinct. He seems (9th ed., p. 145) to limit the notion of a Real Definition to one which “explains any thing
Mr. De Morgan, exactly reversing the doctrine of Archbishop Whately, understands by a Real Definition one which contains