Note 11 — Chapter VII · ANALYTICA POSTERIORA I.
Reading edition
Aristot. Analyt. Post. I. i. p. 71, a. 17-b. 8: ἔστι δὲ γνωρίζειν τὰ μὲν πρότερον γνωρίζοντα, τῶν δὲ καὶ ἄμα λαμβάνοντα τὴν γνῶσιν, οἷον ὅσα τυγχάνει ὄντα ὑπὸ τὸ καθόλου, ὧν ἔχει τὴν γνῶσιν. ὅτι μὲν γὰρ πᾶν τρίγωνον ἔχει δυσὶν ὀρθαῖς ἴσας, προῄδει· ὅτι δὲ τόδε τὸ ἐν τῷ ἡμικυκλίῳ τρίγωνόν ἐστιν, ἅμα ἐπαγόμενος ἐγνώρισεν. — πρὶν δ’ ἐπαχθῆναι ἢ λαβεῖν συλλογισμόν, τρόπον μέν τινα ἴσως φατέον ἐπίστασθαι, τρόπον δ’ ἄλλον οὔ. ὃ γὰρ μὴ ᾔδει εἰ ἔστιν ἁπλῶς, τοῦτο πῶς ᾔδει ὅτι δύο ὀρθὰς ἔχει ἁπλῶς; ἀλλὰ δῆλον ὡς ὡδὶ μὲν ἐπίσταται., ὅτι καθόλου ἐπίσταται, ἁπλῶς δ’ οὐκ ἐπίσταται. — οὐδὲν (οἶμαι) κωλύει, ὃ μανθάνει, ἔστιν ὡς ἐπίστασθαι, ἔστι δ’ ὡς ἀγνοεῖν· ἄτοπον γὰρ οὐκ εἰ οἶδέ πως ὃ μανθάνει, ἀλλ’ εἰ ὡδί, οἷον ᾗ μανθάνει καὶ ὥς. Compare also Anal. Post. I. xxiv. p. 86, a. 23, and Metaph. A. ii. p. 982, a. 8; Anal. Prior. II. xxi. p. 67, a. 5-b. 10.)
Aristotle reports the solution given by others, but from which he himself dissented, of the Platonic puzzle. The respondent was asked, Do you know that every Dyad is even? — Yes. Some Dyad was then produced, which the respondent did not know to be a Dyad; accordingly he did not know it to be even. Now the critics alluded to by Aristotle said that the respondent made a wrong answer; instead of saying I know every Dyad is even, he ought to have said, Every Dyad which I know to be a Dyad is even. Aristotle pronounces that this criticism is incorrect. The respondent knows the conclusion which had previously been demonstrated to him; and that conclusion was, Every triangle has its three angles equal to two right angles; it was not, Every thing which I know to be a triangle has its three angles equal to two right angles. This last proposition had never been demonstrated, nor even stated: οὐδεμία γὰρ πρότασις λαμβάνεται τοιαύτη, ὅτι ὃν σὺ οἶδας ἀριθμόν, ἢ ὃ σὺ οἶδας εὐθύγραμμον, ἀλλὰ κατὰ παντός (b. 3-5).
This discussion, in the commencement of the Analytica Posteriora (combined with Analyt. Priora, II. xxi.), is interesting, because it shows that even then the difficulties were felt, about the major proposition of the Syllogism, which Mr. John Stuart Mill has so ably cleared up, for the first time, in his System of Logic. See Book II. ch. iii. of that work, especially as it stands in the sixth edition, with the note there added, pp. 232-233. You affirm, in the major proposition of the Syllogism, that every triangle has its three angles equal to two right angles; does not this include the triangle A, B, C, and is it not therefore a petitio principii? Or, if it be not so, does it not assert more than you know? The Sophists (upon whom both Plato and Aristotle are always severe, but who were valuable contributors to the theory of Logic by fastening upon the weak points) attacked it on this ground, and raised against it the puzzle described by Aristotle (in this chapter), afterwards known as the Sophism entitled ὁ ἐγκεκαλυμμένος (see Themistius Paraphras. I. i.; also ‘Plato and the Other Companions of Sokrates,’ Vol. III. ch. xxxviii. p. 489). The critics whom Aristotle here cites and disapproves, virtually admitted the pertinence of this puzzle by modifying their assertion, and by cutting it down to “Everything which we know to be a triangle has its three angles equal to two right angles.” Aristotle finds fault with this modification, which, however, is one way of abating the excess of absolute and peremptory pretension contained in the major, and of intimating the want of a minor to be added for interpreting and supplementing the major; while Aristotle himself arrives at the same result by admitting that the knowledge corresponding to the major proposition is not yet absolute, but incomplete and qualified; and that it is only made absolute when supplemented by a minor.
The very same point, substantially, is raised in the discussion between Mr. John Stuart Mill and an opponent, in the note above referred to. “A writer in the ‘British Quarterly Review’ endeavours to show that there is no petitio principii in the Syllogism, by denying that the proposition All men are mortal, asserts or assumes that Socrates is mortal. In support of this denial, he argues that we may, and in fact do, admit the general proposition without having particularly examined the case of Socrates, and even without knowing whether the individual so named is a man or something else. But this of course was never denied. That we can and do draw inferences concerning cases specifically unknown to us, is the datum from which all who discuss this subject must set out. The question is, in what terms the evidence or ground on which we draw these conclusions may best be designated — whether it is most correct to say that the unknown case is proved by known cases, or that it is proved by a general proposition including both sets of cases, the known and the unknown? I contend for the former mode of expression. I hold it an abuse of language to say, that the proof that Socrates is mortal, is that all men are mortal. Turn it in what way we will, this seems to me asserting that a thing is the proof of itself. Whoever pronounces the words, All men are mortal, has affirmed that Socrates is mortal, though he may never have heard of Socrates; for since Socrates, whether known to be a man or not, really is a man, he is included in the words, All men, and in every assertion of which they are the subject.… The reviewer acknowledges that the maxim (Dictum de Omni et Nullo) as commonly expressed — ‘Whatever is true of a class is true of everything included in the class,’ is a mere identical proposition, since the class is nothing but the things included in it. But he thinks this defect would be cured by wording the maxim thus: ‘Whatever is true of a class is true of everything which can be shown to be a member of the class:’ as if a thing could be shown to be a member of the class without being one.”
The qualified manner in which the maxim is here enunciated by the reviewer (what can be shown to be a member of the class) corresponds with the qualification introduced by those critics whom Aristotle impugns (λύουσι γὰρ οὐ φάσκοντες εἰδέναι πᾶσαν δυάδα ἀρτίαν οὖσαν, ἀλλ’ ἣν ἴσασιν ὅτι δυάς); and the reply of Mr. Mill would have suited for these critics as well as for the reviewer. The puzzle started in the Platonic Menon is, at bottom, founded on the same view as that of Mr. Mill, when he states that the major proposition of the Syllogism includes beforehand the conclusion. “The general principle, (says Mr. Mill, p. 205), instead of being given as evidence of the particular case, cannot itself be taken for true without exception, until every shadow of doubt which could affect any case comprised in it is dispelled by evidence aliunde; and then what remains for the syllogism to prove? From a general principle we cannot infer any particulars but those which the principle itself assumes as known.”
To enunciate this in the language of the Platonic Menon, we learn nothing by or through the evidence of the Syllogism, except a part of what we have already professed ourselves to know by asserting the major premiss.