Liber De Diffinitione

Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius The Book on Definition

The first speech in speaking and disputing is always definition, as both the dialectical authors and Marcus Tullius himself often remind us. For since nothing (which at least consists in speech) can ever be brought into a contest and dispute unless the subject of the future battle has first been fixed in definition so that it can be manifest to both who are about to enter that dispute what that thing is about which the future question will be treated, the virtue of defining is to be considered not only from the standpoint of convenience, because through this speech a matter is always unfolded, and because it is that which explains that about which the question is asked, but also because, always employed as the principal thing, it produces the greatest light and clarity for the matter which, when brought into opposition, has a question. For if words had either been known to all, or always held a single meaning of themselves, and did not deceive hearers by ambiguous or obscure speech, and mislead speakers under diverse interpretation, definition would be thought altogether unnecessary. But since names imposed upon things and individual words, by the estimation of the one who thought things should be so called, are so instituted and so artificially composed that they lead hearers by a certain mark in the signification of things, not by an open declaration, I think it quite necessary to know what definition is, and with what species and parts it is completed, so that one can most easily both set forth the thing it declares and, by knowing the modes in speaking, remove its variety.

discussion. And first, so that we may seem to preserve the order by the precepts of the same [art], a definition of definition itself must be employed. Definition is (as Marcus Tullius says in the *Topics*) a speech which explains what that which it defines is. This is so clear and must be understood in such a way that it seems to be declared in what genus the definition is, and what it comprehends, and in what manner the same definition is itself defined as perfect. Names or words sometimes signify things, sometimes deeds, sometimes individual utterances, sometimes speeches; and although in all these deeds and utterances and speeches there seems to be a genus which we call 'thing', nevertheless a thing by its own name and certain signification appears to be one thing from what is done, another from what is said, and a singular and unique thing another from speech. Therefore definition is not the word of a deed, nor of some thing either corporeal or incorporeal, but it is a speech. For such a diction which expresses what that which is being inquired about is, is without doubt called a speech, just as a speech is an exordium, and a narration, and the other things which we call parts of a speech. Thus, therefore, definition is a speech.

But since this is a general term which, as we have said, also applies to exposition, narration, invocation, supplication, and each of the other things that are called speeches, so that what has been set down generally may be brought to that which is being inquired about, a species has been added. For we were asking what definition is, and to declare this matter Marcus Tullius added that such a speech as explains what the thing being defined is, is nothing other than a definition. For narration is indeed a speech, but it does not explain what is being defined, but rather what was done; and likewise each of the other speeches, constituted in their own functions and actions, are something other than that speech which explains what the thing being defined is. Thus a species has been added, so that, while the genus above is speech, the species is that which [explains] what is being defined. Finally, however, that has been added which declares more certainly and more properly what has been said: "explains what it is." For there are other speeches which explain more what sort of thing something is, or how much it is. But this one does none of these things; it only explains what it is. For the knowledge in this division is different, since it is one thing to know what sort of thing something is, and another to explain what it is; for the latter is contained in perceiving the substance of the thing, the former in knowing its quality. And this indeed is the definition employed by Cicero. Yet let us make clearer, by our own explanation, what definition itself is.

Everything that is demonstrated by speech is shown either to exist, or what it is, or what it is like. When this is employed, speech concerning whether something exists is not a definition. Likewise, when what something is like is shown by speech, in a similar way it will not be a definition. But when what it is is shown—which is the middle between whether it exists and what it is like, that is to say, a middle such that there is no longer any doubt about whether it exists, and likewise what it is like is placed in the knowledge not of the one who asks but of the one who defines—this kind, I say, which shows the very thing about which it is asked what it is, is called a definition. Every definition has an uncertain thing in the question. Every thing, if it is certain, does not need a definition; if it is uncertain, it is not a thing, and it seeks to be shown by a definition. For every thing, if it is already a thing, as we have said, is certain. But when it is already certain, and has its qualities by which it is easily grasped, what it is is easily recognized. For what it is can never be understood unless what it is like has been grasped. Every definition is assumed either to prove the cause of a thing, or, if the thing is in question, to augment it, or, if the thing is already known to either an opponent or a listener, to confirm it. Nevertheless, a definition is also employed so that the same thing, which is known and certain and fixed, may be held. Every definition is either a rhetorical speech or a dialectical one.

If rhetoric exists, it takes its origin from contention, dividing itself through the parts of the matter under inquiry, and does not consist entirely in a single treatment of its own subjects, so that when the full and certain perfection of each thing is known, the statements of the disputants distribute that same thing among themselves through its parts. We retain the violation of a tomb as a certain, full, and perfect thing even when the tomb has been opened, and also the intent and the deed of the violator, so that someone may seem to have undertaken this with the purpose of digging up and profaning the shades. Therefore, as we have said, the violation of a tomb consists both in intent and in deed, and the thing itself of the violated tomb is full from these two: someone opened a tomb in order to remove ornaments. The same person is summoned to judgment as defendant for the violated tomb; without doubt, the cause necessarily requires a definitive speech and contention expressing what the violation of a tomb is; but orators use the individual parts of the whole and full deed, so that one may posit the violation of a tomb as that the tomb was opened, while another says that the violation of a tomb is contained in the intent. Thus this treatment of definitive speech arises, so that when the whole that is recognized in the violation of a tomb has been distributed through its parts, and the individual orators have held those parts, they seem to use definition in the genus of contention.

But such a definition is not correctly given, since it is not certain, not full, not complete, unless it declares what the speech is by expressing the whole of whatever belongs to the thing under inquiry; indeed, this is captious and false, not a certain definition of rhetoricians. There is also another kind known to be suited to rhetoricians, which is far removed from the full virtue of defining, which through comparison does not show what something is, but concludes that it is like something else, when it is different, as when it is asked what "to receive" is—certainly, properly, truly, certainly, it is nothing other than to take something offered by someone with one's own hand. By comparison, M. Tullius defines Verres to have received money when his companions, allies, and attendants received money. "Those companions," he says, "were your hands." Likewise in another example, when it is asked what an enemy is, we say that an enemy is one who has plotted some evil; and Cicero, using comparison, says: "An enemy is one who acts against everyone's interest, will, honor, and dignity." From these we gather that definitions of this kind are especially suitable for the contention of orators, yet are far removed from the virtue of defining; but these definitions, which are suited to orators and poets, contain a certain order in their explanation within speech. Concerning this matter, precepts are given in the Rhetorics by M.

established by Cicero, so that every definition—that is, a speech which explains what the thing under inquiry is—is held together by these members and parts: first, that our speech briefly contain that of which it is asked what it is, and this is called the definition; then, a confirmation of that definition is subjoined, by which we show that what we have briefly placed in the definition is indeed so, by means of arguments and reasons; then, in the third place, we introduce a deduction of the same definition into the particular species about which the question is and about which the judgment has been established, so that when we have defined the thing generally, and have said that it is so concerning what is asked, and afterwards through confirmation have established that what we define is true, in the third place we show that this is what has been done, or that this is what is being asked about, which part of the speech is called the deduction from genus to species; in the fourth place in our speech we will place a destruction of the definition of the opposing side, that is, so that just as the adversaries have defined the very thing about which we have established a definition above, we propose it, and we teach that the adversaries' definition is faulty, as we will later declare how it is faulty. For it has its own certain and complete parts, about which we now refrain from speaking. There is a definition of enmities in Marcus Tullius, brief, arranged thus: "Do you think there are greater enmities than contrary wills of men and dissimilar pursuits?

This, as we have said, is a rhetorical definition, and a brief speech concluding what enmities are. After this definition, an approval is applied. He who considers faith and religion most sacred in life, can he not be an enemy to him who has plundered all shrines? Then the remaining things which follow, in which indeed it is permitted to observe that both the approval of the definition and the deduction of the definition into a species can be conjoined. For here Marcus Tullius approves that enmities are contrary pursuits and dissimilar wills in such a way that he includes in words the very species about which the inquiry was made: for the approval could have been made that those are enmities which contain contrary wills, and in the underlying arguments such a statement could be composed, when one person preserves faith, another is faithless. There is no doubt that those who are so disposed in spirit towards each other are believed to be enemies. Likewise, an irreligious man is an enemy to a religious man. Therefore, if other things were posited from diverse pursuits and wills, it would be only an approval, not also a deduction of the genus into a species; but since now the statement is so woven, he who considers faith most sacred in life, who deems religion to be cultivated, is without doubt an enemy to him who has plundered shrines, violated all temples, defiled sanctuaries.

Here also the same deed of Verres, about which the inquiry is made, is so specifically contained and included that it is held enclosed together with the approval and the deduction of the genus into the species; afterwards, as we have said, the destruction of the definition of the opposing side is added, but through concession, that is, of similar things, as if someone had done an injury against my property, would I not rightly profess myself his enemy? Let us therefore posit such a definition of the opposing side: Enmities are when someone has either done or spoken an injury against my property. This definition Marcus Tullius destroys in such a way that, conceding that it is defined thus, nevertheless enmities also exist in another way, when someone acts against the property, honor, and dignity of all. Therefore, such speech always testifies about the rhetorical definition through four members: that there be a definition, an approval of the definition, a deduction of the definition to the species, and finally a destruction of the definition of the opposing side; but this seems suitable for rhetoricians, not also for philosophers. That definition, however, which is proper to philosophers, also suits orators, and the orator joins it to himself both for his subject matter and for the ornament of his own diction. For the orator rightly expresses everything that is in the speaking of philosophers. For he also uses the true argument, which is proper to philosophers, and he also uses the necessary.

On the other hand, the philosopher in his own disputations condemns all the devices of the rhetoricians; for he never adjoins a sign, nor what is called credible, and he entirely excludes every probable thing from the virtue of his own speech. Therefore, we will set forth the definition which is proper to philosophers in expressing things, which explains what it is, what sort it is, and how it ought to consist of its own parts. Definitions are the principles of disputing, as we have said above, and Marcus Tullius proves this, both in all his dialogues and also in that book which is entitled *Topica*, in which he teaches that the first place of arguments is definition, that is, from the whole, to which place, which is called from the whole, definition must necessarily be applied, so that the argumentative place from the whole is definition. Moreover, as we have said above, the explanation of an argument which is from the whole is called definition. Therefore, by the precepts of the dialecticians and all philosophers, we ought to hold that there is no definition except the one which, in that thing which we wish to define, before we understand the being of that thing, declares and shows its substance. So that this may become clearer, we will teach that there is no certain, complete, and approved definition except the one which the philosophers call substantial, which is called in Greek. But what substantial is, must be explained elsewhere.

Let it meanwhile be added to our understanding that whenever something is asked about what it is, then there can be a certain and substantial definition, whenever we posit the genus of that thing about which the question is asked, as we have said, and then join the rest through differences in the discourse. It does not seem out of place to give an example, and thus to pass on to the remaining matters which are obscure. It is asked what man is; for this, the genus is certainly animal. Therefore, when in the definition which I shall unfold of what man is, I have said "animal," and then connect the rest, it will be a substantial definition. For I have declared the substance of man when I said "animal." Likewise, when I ask what white or black is, if I say "white is a color," because color is the genus for that about which I ask, white or black, then it will be a substantial definition which begins from the genus, and thus connects the rest. This will be called substantial, and this proper, and this complete. This is approved by the philosophers, so that a definition made in any other way is never called such; but by some this name is often transferred also to other things which are defined in another way. Therefore this substantial definition is explained by M. Tullius thus: that we ought, having posited the genus of that thing about which the question is asked, to subjoin the species, so that we may separate other things which might be near by common distinctions, and we interpose differences until we come to a designated expression of its own proper thing about which the question is asked. He himself subjoined examples in the *Topica*.

But to prevent confusion for the reader from legal examples, let us propose an example: man is a rational, mortal, earthly, bipedal animal capable of laughter. When "animal" is said, the substance of man is declared. For, as we said above, "animal" is the genus with respect to man, and every genus is a substantial declaration of its species; but since "animal" was too broad, the species "earthly" was added, and what is aerial or aquatic is now excluded. "Bipedal," moreover, is posited on account of other animals that rely on many feet. Likewise "rational" on account of those lacking reason. "Mortal," however, on account of what is divine. When all the animals that could have been associated with the earlier terms in the statement have been distinguished and excluded, a property is added in the final part, for it is only of man that he laughs. Thus the definition is perfected in every respect for declaring man, when, with the genus posited, after all things that could have been associated have been excluded through differences, the statement arrives at the property of that which was being sought. And this is the precept of Tullius, that the one who defines ought to insert and add differences in the statement until the speech reaches a property that can no longer be common. But Aristotle says that a perfect and complete definition consists of genus and differences.

From genus and also from differences we have taught the same thing above, when an intervening species separated by its own difference other things that could be similar. Yet some, more cautious and more thorough in teaching, establish certain, as it were, members of definition itself, and they say that this perfect definition, which I call substantial, ought to consist of five parts: that is, genus, species, difference, accident, and property. But accident is of least value in definition, property of very great value. And indeed they recall these things correctly and truly, and they are not to be judged as foreign to either the prince of these arts, Aristotle, or to Marcus Tullius, who have handed down precepts concerning these matters. For an entire definition consists of these five parts as its members; indeed, Aristotle, in the books he called the *Topics*, taught what genus is, what species, what difference, what property, and what accident. And many philosophers besides have, in their own books, embraced and declared the force and power of these things. Since we have already, in one book, most fully disputed concerning these five things, lest the interposition of one thing upon another produce obscurity, or we repeat what has been said, we wish the reader, if he has need, to go to the book that has already been written; let him note that it is not an impediment here that this has been omitted.

For that must be retained by necessity from all those things that have been learned from the precepts. In that substantial speech we ought to interpose species and differences as long as, with all things that can be the same as this one set aside, we arrive at the point where a certain property is held. Marcus Tullius in the *Topics* wished to define civil law, and, as was necessary, he began from a genus: he said at the beginning, "Civil law is equity," this is a genus of law. But since the same equity is now established, now natural, but civil law is equity instituted by men, therefore he added, "Civil law is established equity." With the genus placed, with the species added, he separated another species, namely natural. But since also the law of nations is established equity, and yet is not civil, he added that which could separate the law of nations: "for those," says Marcus Tullius, "who are of the same state." With that species interposed, he described civil law. There is still something that can be common with another, this very thing which was said above, the universal. For it applies to the law of religions and all sacred things. For the law of religions is equity, and established equity, and for all those who are of the same state. But we do not call that law civil, which is of the pontiffs; therefore, so that he could exclude this and define civil law up to its proper, he added: "for obtaining their own things." Let us give another example placed in speeches, by which it may be more easily and more clearly explained. He defines M.

Cicero, what glory is, in these words, as I think: "Glory," he says, "is a celebrated and widely spread reputation of right and very great deeds, either towards one's own citizens, or towards the republic, or towards the whole human race, of merits." Therefore glory has been substantially defined, when "reputation" was said. For reputation is the genus of glory, which, because it is now of bad things, now of good, for that reason is a genus, to which a species has been added, "celebrated," which is praise: for reputation which is of good things is praise, and celebrated. By this, therefore, the worse reputation has been excluded: and since this praising reputation can be now according to merit, now beyond merit (for often an opinion about someone has spread otherwise than the deed was done), for that reason he says "reputation of merits," for those are merits which, when we perform them, make us deserve glory. Therefore Cicero, who then wished to give glory to Caesar when he had been in charge of the republic, for that reason placed those deeds or merits generally, divided them into species, and added "towards one's own citizens," "towards the republic," or "towards the whole human race," which species of right deeds, of course, are subject so as to be suitable to the property of glory. For it now has a certain and true property in the parts of glory. For everything that we perform, we either give as if owed, or as if not owed, when we act rightly; if only the deeds which are as if owed are done, it is called a celebrated reputation of deeds. But when we do beyond what is owed, by benevolence of performing and kindness of bestowing, these are called merits.

He therefore concluded both kinds of bestowing when he said, "a celebrated and widely spread reputation of great and very great deeds, both towards the republic and towards all citizens, the fame of merits." From all these I think it is clear that the definition, which ought to be substantial, should be expressed in such a way that, with the genus of the thing about which the inquiry is made set forth, and with the species joined together with the difference, we come, with all commonality completely excluded, to its proper [definition]. And if we wish to follow the judgment of true philosophical authorities, no other will be called a definition. For indeed the remaining [kinds of definition] rather attribute an understanding of the thing, not declaring most fully what the thing is by the speech employed; nevertheless, since by a transferred name the other speeches also, retaining this same thing by an imaginary expression, are called by the same name, so that they are said to be definitions, I think the remaining species should be set down, so that we may more easily know what others say, and, with the multiple mode of definition known, the truth of defining may easily, as was said above, be unlocked.

In the *Topics*, Cicero discusses the three primary places: from the whole, from the parts, and from a sign. When the argument is from the whole, as we have taught above, he says that a definition must be employed, for there the genus is placed by which what the thing itself is that is being inquired about is explained. When the argument is from the parts, that too is indeed called a definition, but with the name transferred, since when all the parts have been enumerated, the whole that is recognized is that thing. In this there is almost no difference whether we know the whole from a definition that is from the whole, all the parts of the whole from the definition, or, having collected all the parts, we grasp what the whole is from the enumeration of the parts. Cicero calls such a definition an enumeration of parts, but he attributes it to definition, because the enumeration of parts also shows what the very thing about which the question is asked is, and the definition placed above does the same thing, since a speech that shows what something is is called a definition. Hence there is no doubt that this too is said to be a definition. Therefore, Marcus Tullius set forth, explaining what a free man is, or, on the contrary, what a non-free man is. Since freedom is given by the census, given by the rod, given by testament, and these are the parts of the giving of freedom: "If," he says, "he is free neither by census, nor by rod, nor by testament, then he is not free." With the parts by which a free man is made thus posited, the negation of freedom follows if none of these parts in the giving of freedom has preceded. Nor should it move you that what a non-free man is, not what a free man is, has been established in the definition.

For the reasoning is the same, and the power of defining is identical, both when it is shown what something is not, and when, by applying a definition, what something is is laid bare. Although Marcus Tullius, in the same book of the *Topics*, says that there are two kinds of definitions: the first, when that which is is defined; the second, when that which does not have its own substance is defined—that is, what is not—and he enclosed and diminished this kind of division within those things I mentioned above. But he wished that some things be said to be, others not to be. For he says that those things are, whose body underlies them, as when we define what water is, what fire is. But he intended those things to be understood as not being, to which no corporeal substance seems to belong, such as piety, virtue, freedom. But we consider that all these things—whether they are with a body, or whether they are, of course, in a body, if they are taken in such a way that they seem either to exist by themselves or to exist in something—are to be counted in one genus, so that all these things are understood to be, to all of which their own substance can belong, whether those substances are corporeal, or, as is most certain and can be rightly named, qualities. But besides these, there is a definition when something that is not is shown. For a definition is needed so that we can teach what is not. Therefore, if by division, having enumerated the parts, we say what freedom is, by the same division we will show what freedom is not. Thus a definition will also be made from the parts, as if I say: if it is neither male nor female, it is not a human being.

Likewise, if it is neither a slave nor free, it is not a human. Here I think it should be noted that parts are often taken from the very whole about which the inquiry is made for its definition, and often not from that same whole, but from what happens to it, so that an enumeration of accidents can define what the whole is. For although the whole is the human about which it is asked what it is, "slave" and "free" are not its parts, but accidents of the human. When their enumeration has been established, what a human is is shown. I also think it should be noted here that when a definition is made from parts, it can happen that sometimes the whole is gathered from all parts, as we showed above, and sometimes the parts are enumerated in the definition in such a way that the whole is in each individual part, as in that example from controversies: "to bring aid is to decide, to set out by sending, to come even if you have not fought, to frighten the enemy so they do not fight." Thus Marcus Tullius in many places, and he himself in his speech for Cornelius, where it is asked what "to diminish majesty" is, treats it as: that he proposed a bad law; that by reading the codex he removed the intercession; that he stirred up sedition. In all of these, injured majesty is defined. But each individual item is such that in each individual the whole, that is, injured majesty, can be shown. This also holds in his speech for Marcus Caelius, where through an enumeration of the evils by which malicious fraud is committed, the definition is made in such a way that malicious fraud can be recognized in each individual species.

We understand this clearly when it is openly posited, and it is also manifest that a certain notion, not the fullest reality, is contained in that definition, and that the definition we placed above, with the genus set forth for the declaration of the thing, when the speech indicating its substance is brought forward, provides a longer definition. Indeed, I think it should not be added that there is some necessity in that enumeration of parts, where there is a definition of sorts, if the parts are infinite, or if the enumeration of the species or parts to be divided is very many; I do not think, in that enumeration, that all things which are infinite ought to be concluded. For it suffices that an enumeration of very many things be made, since among infinite things it is not vicious to omit something: Cicero placed this in the Topics, that we do not define civil law by enumeration. That which consists in laws, custom, and equity is not the whole of law enumerated, since it is also in senatus consulta, and in plebiscites, in edicts, and in the commands of princes, and perhaps still in other things. But when a notion of law has been given from some enumerated parts among infinite ones, we will judge what civil law is in similar cases. Therefore, by division or partition, this definition of which we speak is effected; for thus, by the same definition and partition, with either all things enumerated, if they are few, or many, if infinite, either species or parts, we are led to the knowledge and notion of the thing about which inquiry is made.

But let us know that a definition from genus occurs when species are enumerated, a partition when parts are enumerated. For this reason, if we define "animal," to which there belong species infinite in number, such as man, ox, horse, lion, fish, and the rest, we can declare what "animal" is by enumerating a few species. But if I touch upon those species which are more properly differences, which can themselves be three—moist, earthly, celestial—by enumeration of all these things "animal" is defined. You will observe the same in the enumeration of parts, as if we say, "The world is sea, land, sky," by enumeration of parts, but not of all, what the world is has been explained. And if we wished to define what the world is by enumeration through other infinite parts, since, as Marcus Tullius says, enumeration of parts is often more infinite, that precept is twofold: that we not believe there is some fault in enumeration when we have omitted something, only in a matter where the parts are infinite. Therefore we can say: "The world is sun, moon, stars, air, and all things that are in it," that is, earth and the rest, which even if we set forth not by enumerated parts, from the likeness of the parts mentioned we show what the world is, comprehended by all. In this way, then, a definition will also be treated by enumeration of parts; it is a rational license to put parts for species, as whole for genus, but genus is never named for whole, nor species for part.

Every genus in relation to its species is like a whole, so that we rightly call a whole a genus. And in the same way we will name parts for species. For if that name which is called "whole" is rightly associated with the genus, it is equally reasonable to enumerate parts, as it were under the appellation of the whole, for species. Nevertheless, I want this to be well noted: since there are two kinds of things, corporeal and incorporeal, in both, both genus and whole are taken, and in the same way parts and species are named, but by a separate division of their own rationale, so that when the genus has been named in the manner of a quality, we should understand the species subordinate to it. But when it is a whole, not that its quality is observed, which is always signified in a genus, but as if a certain substantial body, so that, divided and distributed into its parts, it has received a division of a certain quantity, whether that body is corporeal or (as we have said) incorporeal, by observation of the kinship of each, which is either in quality or in quantity. If we wish the thing named to be in quality, we say it is a genus, and that species are subordinate to it. If we comprehend a certain quantity in that which is a whole, we rightly and justly say that parts are in the division.

Let it be granted for use and freely accepted that we may call species by the name of parts, and that we may without fault apply the appellation of whole to the genus itself, which we have spoken of in relation to quality; nevertheless, we shall never, when the whole is to be spoken of in respect of quality, utter the genus, nor at any time call the species under the whole, but we shall always name them parts. The third definition, and that which is called the definition from a note, when it is of a verb or a noun, which is so in composition, designates its own thing by means of a certain separation. "Fides," says M. Tullius, "is when what is said is done." Here, therefore, it may be observed that, as if a simple name were formed and compounded, it resounds, albeit in an obscure composition, into its own things; for we recognize the compound word, made up of almost the same syllables that speak its own thing, as signifying what it does by means of a distinction. But often a simple and pure word, bound by no composition, is led into a definition from a note, where its force is what the Greeks call ἐτυμολογία, and Cicero calls veriloquium. But it cannot be shown by a distinction, which is none, of composition; rather, by means of an added explanation and denomination, it is in some way explained what the thing in question is, as "good" from "goodness," and "bad" from "badness," and "wise" from "wisdom.

For when a thing is known under another name, that which is derived from it and, in a certain way, denominated, easily leads to knowledge, so that it shows what it is, as Cicero says that Piso the consul is so called from "consulting," and especially, he says, because the force of that name itself prescribes consulting for the republic, and this kind of definition ought to be so called. Although Marcus Tullius, in the *Topics*, made a place for an argument which he named "conjugate," which is neighboring to the place that is from a note, we nevertheless, neither otherwise nor contrary, but with equal instruction, will rightly call it a definition, preserving the precept that when we take a compound name divided into its own things which it sounds, we understand what it signifies, the definition is from a note. But when we begin to take a simple word as a denominative, we have taken an argument from a conjugate, as Marcus Tullius set forth, yet we say it is a definition, because it shows what it is, which is proper to a definition. These are the three principal substantial definitions now set forth by me: that which is from the whole, from the enumeration of parts, and from a note, so that that which is prior alone is truly called a definition, but these two, by the honor and dignity of the name, because they show that concerning which it is asked what it is, will be said to be definitions, not truly, but nevertheless. Now let us return to that definition which is from the whole, because it can receive very many forms within itself.

But from these, we will set forth those we have been able to gather (for there are perhaps others as well), and then we will give the reasons, differences, and examples. There is, therefore, the first, which in Greek can be called substantial, in Latin substantialis. The second is that which presents only a notion. The third is ποιητική, which takes its name from quality. The fourth is ὑπογραφική, which is called descriptio by Marcus Tullius. The fifth is κατὰ λέξιν, which in Latin we can render word for word. The sixth is κατὰ διαφοράν, which the Latins call "concerning the same and the other," and which can be called difference. The seventh is κατὰ μεταφοράν, that is, by transference. The eighth is κατὰ ἀφαίρεσιν τοῦ ἐναντίου, that is, by privation of its contrary. The ninth is κατὰ φαντασίαν, that is, by a certain imagination. The tenth is καθ' ὁμοίωσιν, in Latin veluti. The eleventh is κατ' ἔλλειψιν τοῦ γένους, that is, by lack of the full from the same genus. The twelfth is κατ' ἔπαινον, that is, by praise. The thirteenth is κατὰ ἀναλογίαν, that is, according to reason, which is called proportion. The fourteenth is κατὰ τὸ πρός τι, that is, by that which is relative to something. The fifteenth is that which assigns a cause. Concerning the first definition, a full discussion was completed in the earlier parts, when we showed what the substantial definition is and of what parts it is composed. The second is called that which...

We can call it not by a proper name but by a common one. For in all other definitions the notion of the thing is set forth, but the substantial explanation is not declared; however, this one which is second always occurs in this way, when, with the proposition of what is to be defined, neither by stating its genus, but by words leading the hearer into the sense of the thing, it explains what that thing is which is being inquired about. And it is almost characteristic of this type to define proposed things by superimposed names, as if I should say: "Man is that which presides over all animals by rational conception and exercise." Here I have not indeed said what it is, but by saying what it does, I have called it into knowledge as if by some sign. There are many others in M. Tullius's *Rhetorica*, such as: "An honorable kind of cause is that to which the hearer's mind gives favor immediately without our speech," and likewise: "An admirable kind is that from which the mind of those who are about to hear is alienated." And so he employs the remaining definitions in the second book in declaring the virtues. First, when he says what virtue itself is, he posits its definition: "a habit of nature in accord with measure and reason." Here, since he placed the genus so as to say "habit," it is a substantial definition.

But when it says, "Memory is that by which the mind recalls those things which have been," and likewise, "Intelligence is that by which it regards those things which are," and in like manner, "Providence is that by which something future is seen," it is sufficiently clear that this is not a substantial definition, but, as we have said, that which is called in Greek ἐννοηματική, where the notion of the thing is perceived not by substantial reason, but the thing known is set forth by its actual operation. The third species of definition is that which is called ποιότης; this, by stating what sort of thing it is, shows it, and we will set forth our example as above, so that it may easily appear that several definitions can be made of the same one thing. First we defined man substantially. Then, by the mode of the second definition, we expressed his notion. Now, by the third definition, we will explain what man is. Man is that in which piety, justice, equity, continence, and again malice, cunning, and the other vices are found; who is strong in intellect, skilled in arts, and in knowledge of things either loves what he ought to do, or by discernment condemns, rejects, and spurns what is useless. By these qualities man is expressed, for no other animal conducts its life by these motions of the mind designating quality, but only this animal, which is man, is filled with qualities placed and established in the mind, as if by a certain natural artisan or governor of life.

These things indeed, the third and the second, can seem to some to be common: for often in any of these it suffices for the definition of that thing concerning which inquiry is made that only its own property be named, as if I say, "Man is that which laughs," for this is a property of man and of no other animal; by this said and all other things by which man can be shown passed over in silence, yet he is declared by his own property alone. And Cicero said of this that it is a genus of definition which can be applied to a notion, as it seems to some; it can also be applied to this definition which has taken the name of quality. Whence some judge that these two, being separated by no boundary, are rather one, since it sufficiently appears that the former can be completed by no posited qualities, as we taught above, and the latter, with qualities posited which the thing is, can show it even with its own property left unspoken. We have called the fourth definition, not placing number as if it were a property, but joining the name to the exposition presented in an established order for easier understanding: for it is not that the fourth, which is what we have called description, is to be called fourth. But because the order of the proposition required it, therefore we placed the name of number in this place. For Cicero, who is fourth, placed a definition concerning the same and the other, and thus constituted a fifth as ὑπογραφική; but we, omitting numerosity, what ὑπογραφή is, which by M.

Tullius calls it a description; we will teach it by setting forth a rationale and by example, which speech does not so much say what a thing is, but rather, by a circumlocution of words and deeds, declares what each thing is by description. This is said to be a descriptive definition, as when it is asked what an avaricious man is, what a cruel man is, what a luxurious man is, and the whole nature of the avaricious, luxurious, and cruel man is described. This species of definition is called a description in the mode of exhortation, as: a luxurious man is one who seeks not necessary but costly and burdensome fare, abounding in delights, prone to lust. These and other things define the luxurious man, and they define by description; this definition is always suitable for an orator. For the praise of speaking by circumlocution is granted for the sake of propriety; that speech is not more apt and determinate which, as it were, is familiar to the definition which we above prescribed to be substantial. For this reason, in many places Tullius, when he says something is to be defined, does not prescribe that it be defined substantially, but rather that it be described, and he uses this term, as when he says: when it is asked what a thief is and what a sacrilegious man is, it must be shown by their own description. The fifth species of definition is that which we have called κατ' ἀντίλεξιν, which in Latin we can say "ad verbum.

This [definition] designates that word, the thing of which is sought, by another word, one and singular, and in a certain way declares what that thing is, by one word placed in place of another word, as "to fall silent" is "to be quiet," likewise "he draws a broad wound" i.e., "he strikes," also when we say "boundary" for "end," or interpret "populated" as "laid waste," and in general when we declare the thing of one word by another, clearer word. This will be the fifth definition of which we speak. M. Tullius used this in the *Topics*, when, defining the place of an argument, he said it is a "seat," thus by one word, "seat," he showed, by another appellation placed for the word, through definition what the thing was, whose thing he sought. The Greeks call this [definition] *κατ' ἀντίφρασιν*, as *ἄνθρωπος*. The sixth *κατὰ διαφοράν* is a species of definition; we call this "by difference.

But the writers on the arts call this by the same and the other, as when it is asked what the difference is between a king and a tyrant, by the added difference it is defined what each is; and every definition, as we have taught above, expresses what the thing sought is only by the addition of differences and by the comprehension of its own proper [characteristic]; yet this same mode of which we speak will not seem to be the same, since when the sole difference has been placed between the two about which it is asked what each is, both are known: for in the earlier [modes] each single thing is defined, but here two things, as it were known but confused by some common bond, are separated by the added difference, through which it is known what each is, as a king is moderate and temperate, a tyrant cruel. Hence that saying of Terence: "I think it is better to keep children by modesty and liberality than by fear; this is the difference between a father and a master." Likewise Marcus Tullius for Sextus Roscius: "And between this life polished by humanity and that savage one there is no difference except law and force." The seventh is by translation, as Cicero in the Topics: "A shore is what the waves wash." Likewise: "Adolescence is the flower of age, old age the sunset of life"; this can be treated in various ways.

Now, it is used sometimes to warn, sometimes to designate, sometimes to censure, or to praise: to warn, "Nobility is the burden of ancestors' virtue upon posterity"; to designate, "The head is the citadel of the body"; to censure, "Riches are the long provision for a short life"; to praise, "Youth is the flower of age." In these and other ways, this definition can be set forth; yet in that kind, one must beware that the metaphor is neither far-fetched nor base. A far-fetched metaphor is, for example, "the trumpet of the republic," "the chaos of the laws," which Cicero tempered in his speech for Sextus Roscius. "As if it were an everlasting night," he says, in which, even if it is as if by likeness, a definition can be accepted, receiving a tempering from a particle of likeness. A base metaphor occurs in two ways: when we define honorable things by base ones, or base things by honorable ones, as if someone defining copulation were to call it "the tears of wearied Venus," which he would better have named "sweat." Or, on the contrary, someone might say, "Tears are the copulation of grief"; this vice neither the superior nor the particle of tempering bestows. Therefore, we must greatly avoid this.

The eighth species of definition is κατὰ στέρησιν τοῦ ἐναντίου, that is, through the privation of the contrary of that which is defined, as "good is that which is not evil"; we ought to use this kind of definition when the contrary is known. For these two, when they are so understood that one cannot exist without the other, how will the knowledge of one come about unless both have been grasped? Therefore, when one is asked what it is, it certainly cannot be comprehended by this definition, when both are unknown, since they are so naturally bound that they connect necessary knowledge of one to the comprehension of the other. Hence such a definition is in peril; we must know whether its contrary is known, so that, with this removed, knowledge of that which is defined may come about. For this reason it often turns out better if, when seeking something that is to be defined, we define its contrary, and with that removed, we declare that which is sought, as if "good is that which is beneficial with honor," then that which is not such is evil. Cicero in his *Rhetorica*: "Necessary things are demonstrated which cannot otherwise be done or proven than as they ought." For let us posit necessary and not necessary as contraries, so that you understand all contraries here to be posited by whose removal that which is sought is defined. Therefore, that which is not necessary can be defined thus: that which can be done and proven otherwise than as it is said; when I remove this, I constitute the definition of the necessary. Therefore, a definition of this kind can rightly be made, but in the manner which I have taught.

And this is what Marcus Tullius prescribed in his *Partitions*, that definition should often be made from contraries. Under this definition also fall notions, when accidents are removed, and all other things which are diverse, and when the contrary of an accident or of a consequent accident is removed, as if someone were to say that substance is that which is neither quality, nor quantity, nor the remaining accidents, when other things which are diverse are removed; such is the definition, as if someone, in defining man, were to remove all animals, either generally or specifically. By this kind of definition God can be defined. For since we can in no way know what God is, by the removal of all existing things, which the Greeks call *ὄντα*, the knowledge of God is posited for us, circumscribed and removed by the knowledge of known things. God is neither body, nor any element, nor soul, nor mind, nor sense, nor intellect, nor anything which can be grasped from these. With such things removed, what God is can be defined, especially if you add that even that which cannot be defined is God. The contrary of an accident or of a consequent, when removed, is a definition of this sort: To be awake is to use the senses; to sleep is not to use the senses. Naturally, definitions of this kind can seem to agree with that definition which we mentioned above. But that one consists of the accidents of that thing which we have defined, or of consequents; this one consists of contraries, and thus it arises from that which is from accidents, as Marcus Tullius teaches.

Tullius concerning Piso not having been consul, thus: "But in the remaining time, did anyone consider you consul? Did anyone rise for you when you entered the Senate, did anyone think you should be answered when you sought advice?" And the argument of this place, both the superior and the consequent, consists in this definition, which explains in various ways that he was not consul, teaching also through those things which are repugnant to the consul—by additions, deeds, thoughts; from consequents it defines the consul thus: "He must be in mind with counsel, faith, gravity, vigilance, care, finally with the whole office of the consulship," up to this point from consequents. For all these are consequents of that which I have called the office of the consulship; hence this will be the definition. To make this clearer, I will give another example. Marcus Tullius in the same: "What else is it to be mad than not to know men, not to know the laws, not the Senate, not the state, to bloody one's own body?" Therefore, to gather consequent accidents is of definition, and to remove the contrary of that which you are defining; this is that definition which we have called the eighth above. The ninth species of definition is *κατὰ φαντασίαν*, that is, by a certain imagination, as "Aeneas is the son of Venus and Anchises"; this always deals with individuals, which the Greeks call *ἄτομα*. This definition is needed, however, around names which are homonymous, only for individuals, as Ajax, both the son of Oileus and the son of Telamon. Likewise, it helps in that kind of expression where shame or fear prevents naming someone: "Me, of course," says Marcus Tullius.

Tullius, those assassins described him from his own house thus. But for Fundanius thus: you described whether our necessary competitor that very one; his now zeal and favor, that whole accusation is fortified. He had been afraid to name, therefore he was described. Likewise for Cornelius: The charges of treason themselves are, read as you were reading, from this you will understand that Cornelius is described or indicated by no slightest suspicion. These things only concerning proper names: that other definition is as we said the superior one. Therefore from family, country, body, deeds, words, or circumstances, and from mind we declare that one whom we wish by a kind of definition. The tenth species is IBS TSar" this as we said, as if it is asked what an animal is, one answers "a human." Thus Aristotle says ousia eidos, for the thing sought the subjoined example declares, and this is proper to definition, to declare what that which is sought is. The eleventh species of definition is kata endeian tou plerous tou autou genous, that is, by the lack of the full from the same genus, as if it is asked what a quadrans is, one answers "that to which a dodrans is lacking, so that it is an as." The twelfth species of definition is kat' epainon, that is, by praise, as M. Tullius for Cluentius: "Law is the mind, and spirit, and counsel, and knowledge of the state"; and we indeed, to show the definition, placed the example thus. For this same M.

Tullius, not employing the form of definition, simply placed it: "The mind," he says, "and spirit of the state, and counsel, and knowledge is placed in the laws"; and, as we have taught above, he wished definition to be nothing other than speech. Therefore M. Tullius in a different manner set forth what he received from the new converts in his own speech as a form of definition, and this is far removed from that mode which occurs through metaphor, for it is not a transference when the law is called the mind of the state, nor yet is it a genus so as to be considered substantial; for it follows that it is also placed without transference for the sake of censure: thus it can seem to have been defined by Tullius: "Slavery is the worst of evils, to be repelled not only by war but even by death." For although he began thus, "Peace is tranquility, liberty," but between peace and slavery there is a very great difference, which is defined by means of difference.

be seen as a definition; yet, because he did not briefly indicate that article by which it would differ, but defined each thing by its own genus, he showed by comparison rather than by the genus of definition through difference how they differ. Therefore, the first definition of peace will be from the consequents of that thing which it defined: "Peace is tranquil liberty." This second one is more by way of vituperation: for it is neither a consequent of it, nor any of those things which we have given to definition, but it is solely vituperation, which says that slavery is the last of all evils. Nor, again, is "evil" taken as a genus in relation to slavery, for evil is a quality, slavery a relation; hence, since they are different things, evil cannot be a genus for slavery. Rightly, therefore, the above definition of slavery is said to have been made by way of vituperation.

The thirteenth species of definition is κατὰ λόγον, that is, according to reason, which is called proportion, when something that can be discussed with another is said to be that which the other is, on account of a reason of similarity; but this occurs when the name of a greater thing is used to define a lesser, and when it is added what the lesser is. The Greeks define it thus: ἄνθρωπός ἐστι μικρὸς κόσμος, that is, man is a little world. Cicero used it thus: Those who attribute much to the edict, beyond the edict, say that law is a living soul. The fourteenth species of definition is κατὰ πρός τι, that is, in relation to something, as "Father is he who has a son." Cicero in his Rhetorics: "Thus a genus is that which embraces several parts." Likewise, "A part is that which is subordinate to a genus.

The fifteenth species is that which the Latins call according to the reason of the thing, as day is the sun above the earth; night, the sun beneath the earth: for either day or night is caused by the sun either above or beneath the earth. There are perhaps also other species of definition, but if anyone discovers them, let him add them to the number, provided he carefully attend to this, lest what he has found be capable of being joined to any of these species. Nor let anyone think that we have separated these species in vain, because some of them can coincide with one another. For when consideration is more fully applied, they are all seen to be separated by a great distinction; let him only hold what I have often commanded above, that only that is called a definition which, taking its beginning from the genus, descends to the property of the thing being defined, separating by means of the differences what could be common. Now let us explain the faults of definition, as was promised. The substantial definition, which we taught as the first and which alone we called definition, admits two principal faults: if the defining speech has either comprehended more or less than the full declaration of the thing requires. For the defining speech must be so composed to the name whose thing it defines that it provides an equal power of expressing, and conversely the name and the definition, when compared with each other, declare the same. As if you ask what man is, it is rightly answered: a terrestrial, rational, mortal, bipedal animal, capable of laughter.

If you convert this again, man is the best declaration. For to one asking what is a terrestrial, rational, mortal, two-footed animal capable of laughter, a correct response is made: it is man. But if you define it thus: man is an animate, sentient substance, it is indeed a declaration of man, for man is all these things; but if you convert it, it will not hold. For not every animate, sentient substance is only man; therefore the definition errs by excess, because it contains more than what was intended. And a definition errs entirely when it posits a genus that is beyond itself; for we say that what is above is a genus that declares more. Likewise, it errs by containing less than is necessary, as in: cupidity is the desire for another's goods, which similarly does not hold when converted, because the definition is less comprehensive than what the name of the thing required. For cupidity extends widely, and is not only avarice; therefore the definition is faulty, being less comprehensive than what was sought, as if one said: cupidity is avarice. If it gave an example and transmitted the hearer to the whole that cupidity is by a proposition of similarity, as of avarice, it would be that species of defining which we placed as the tenth. But now it did not transmit the example to the whole, but as if containing the whole, it erred by passing over many things from the whole, whence a conversion from the definition to the name could not be made. If these two faults are avoided, the definition is complete, and not only this one which is substantial, but also the remaining species. So much for faults.

Cicero, in his *Rhetorica*, taught that there are three faults. A bad definition, he says, occurs when it describes common things in this way: "A seditious man is one who is bad and a useless citizen." For this describes the force not more of a seditious man than of an ambitious man, or of a slanderer, or of any wicked man. This definition we have said is faulty by excess. He adds another fault, so that it says something false in this manner: "Wisdom is the intelligence of seeking money." Cicero added this fault besides those two which I have mentioned. For he himself placed the third, which is established by us as the second. For he speaks thus, so that it contains something neither serious nor great: "Folly is an immense desire for glory." This sins because it comprehends less than what M. Tullius thus expresses. This is indeed folly, but defined from a certain part, not from the whole genus. Besides these, the same M. Tullius, in the second book of his *Rhetorica*, added two faults: if the definition is either shameful or useless. This, as he himself says, is approved from the parts of honesty and utility. And concerning the shameful definition, we have spoken above when we treated definition by transference; but that fault is in the word. It can, however, happen that the whole speech contains these dishonorable things or comprehends useless ones. In the *Philippics*, M. Tullius, in the first oration, taught that Antony was overturning the acts of Caesar, and he denied this. Antony.

Each side brought forward a definition, in order to show what is the *actum* of one who, wearing the toga, conducts himself with authority in the state. I taught in earlier sections that there are four parts of establishing a definition: the first is the definition, the second the approval of the definition, the third the deduction of the definition to the species, the fourth the destruction of the opposing party's definition. Cicero defines the *actum* of one who lives in the republic with authority as laws; Antonius, as chirographs. Therefore, in his speech, Cicero both defines, and approves, and deduces to the species, and destroys the definition of the opposing party. Cicero's definition is this: "And what can so properly be called the *actum* of one who, wearing the toga, has conducted himself in the republic with authority and imperium, as a law?" Then the approval of that definition is subjoined in this way: "Why, the acts of Gracchus will be brought forth by the Sempronian law. Why those of Sulla? By the Cornelian laws. Why those of Gnaeus Pompeius' third consulship? In what do his acts consist? Surely in laws." This is the approval. Then the deduction of the definition to the species is added: "If you were to ask Caesar himself what he had done in the City and in the toga, he would answer that he had carried many and excellent laws." The refutation of the opposing party's definition follows, and it is made in two ways: for either something from all those faults is concluded in that refutation, or, by conceding what the adversaries say, we approve through comparison that this is more what we say. Here both are [present].

Cicero does this. For he sets down those points concerning vices, so as to teach a false definition, and a shameful one, and a useless one. And then, proceeding further, he confirms his own definition, and declares it the stronger. Cicero proves a false definition by examining what follows from it; for a false definition is proved if it does not have its own proper attribute, if it has rather the contrary attribute, if it does not hold its own consequence, if it is stated otherwise than is the opinion of the common people. Here, therefore, since it is asked what is the *actum* of a toga-wearing citizen living with authority in the republic, and it has been said that it is nothing other than laws, it must be noted that Antonius had said that they are *chirographa*. Carefully attending to the consequences, he teaches the false definition thus: He who is in power is in the republic; when he has done something, he cannot change the *actum*; this belongs to a law, that once it has been passed it is never changed by the one who passed it. But *chirographa*, because they are a domestic act, have this consequence, that they are both changed and often not brought forth. Therefore M.

Cicero criticizes the chirographa as not being an act, because they do not consequently have acts, saying: "But the chirographa he would either change, or not give; or if he had given them, he would not list these things in his acts." But because they are criticized by concession, I concede those very things, and in certain matters I even connive; but in the greatest matters, that is, in the laws, I do not think it bearable that Caesar's acts be dissolved. After this he adds a similarly twofold criticism, one from vices, so that he may call the definition both shameful and useless. Then, in concluding, he concedes from comparison his own better definition, saying that it is shameful and useless in a statement of this kind, which is, unless by chance, if he has brought back something in a little book for the sake of memory, it will be counted among the acts. And although it is unjust and useless, it is defended: "Equity is a virtue; virtue itself is honorable; therefore, iniquity is shameful, because shamefulness is contrary to honorableness." If, therefore, he criticizes the definition as shameful and useless in those very words. Then he added that last point by concession in this way: "What he carried to the people in the centuriate comitia, that will not be held among Caesar's acts." I have deemed these things sufficient also for the acute reader.