This is an online information resource and discussion forum for the community of Rhetoric 103A, "Patriarchal Publicities: Rhetoric, Philosophy, and Satire in Greek and Roman Antiquity" in the Fall Term of 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Diomed's speech to Agamemnon and his fellow fighters while in council
Edward
McAuley
Kwan Ha
Rhetoric 103a
10/18/16
Illiad
Book IX: Diomed's speech to Agamemnon and his fellow fighters while in council
Diomed holds that the goal of the Acheans is a goal
ordained by the gods in the heavens. He believes it is the destiny of the
Acheans to win the present battle against the Trojans. He argue that to abandon
the battle is to embrace cowardice and that even if every last man leaves the
battleground, he and Sthenelus will continue the fight until they reach Ilius.
Diomed rises to address Agamemnon, referring to Agamemnon
as "Son of Atreus." In doing so, he refers to Agamemnon's lineage in
which he is descended from the Greek God, Zeus. He appears to refer to Zeus in
this manner in order to remind him and the council of Agamemnon's family
lineage, because Agamemnon has just wept openly to the council and suggested
they return to Achaea as a defeated army. Diomed states clearly that he has
risen to "chide" Agamemnon, which he claims is his right while the
council is in chambers. That is to say he announces his plan to find fault with
Agamemnon and scold and censure him for the argument Agamemnon put forward to
the army's leadership while in council.
Diomed refers to Agamemnon's argument as
"folly." Here Diomed is indeed chiding Agamemnon with the term folly;
by using this term he derides Agamemnon's words as foolish, thoughtless, and
unwise. He cautions Agamemnon to allow himself to become "aggrieved"
by Diomed's words and he gives reasons for why Agamemnon should not be
aggrieved, implying that his words are justified. First he recounts Agamemnon's
verbal attack on Diomed while in front of the Danaans where Agamemnon called
Diomed a coward and claimed he was not of the character or courage to be a
soldier, and was therefore "no soldier." He gives evidence for
this by claiming the Argives, "young and old," are aware of the event
in which Agamemnon attacked Diomed and made these charges. Then Diomed makes
his attack personal against Agamemnon's character and abilities.
Diomed then asserts that while Agamemnon has honor as a
ruler, this is useful only in his leadership and administrative capacities. But
when it comes to battle, Diomed argues, Agamemnon lacks courage in the face of
danger. "Valor" Diomed argues, is the highest "might" and
the highest "right," but he claims Agamemnon does not possess valor
and therefore is not qualified to lead such men as the Achaeans in battle. In a
multi-themed rhetorical question intended to set-up his own answer, Diomed asks
Agamemnon if he thinks the sons of Achaeans are "unwarlike" and
"cowardly" as he claims Agamemnon has implied. The first themeatic implication of the rhetorical question is one in
which Diomed has now turned the implications of the words against Agamemnon,
implying that it is Agamemnon who is unwarlike and cowardly, the evidence for
which may be found in his desire to flee the battle and return home. He then
answers his rhetorical question by stating that he and the rest of his fighters
will stand and fight; they will not return with Agamemnon. Diomed tells
Agamemnon that if his sights are set on returning home, then he ought to take
his ships an flee. But as for he and his fellow warriors, they will stay and
fight. Even, he says, if the other Achaeans fell and leave only himself and Sthenelus,
then he and Sthenelus will stand alone and fight until they reach Ilius because
heaven was with them from the outset.
I chose this argument made by Diomed because it shows
exemplary courage of conviction in the face of defeat and harsh odds. It is the
argument of a man who absolutely believes in his cause and whose charisma is so
powerful and convincing that he is able to reinvigorate a wholly dejected and
defeated army council, deriding defeatism, exalting valor and courage, and rallying them to belief in possible
victory.
Friday, October 14, 2016
"You know nothing Socrates"
Stuart Moore
Kwan Ha
Rhetoric 103a
10/14/116
“You know nothing Socrates”
Precis:
Apology
At the heart of Plato’s “Apology” are two men who stake their
claims of knowledge to feelings of superiority over the other. The pride of
each man prevails over knowledge and Socrates is the proud victim of bravado. Meletus
believes himself to be in the right, in terms of educating the youth, and believes
Socrates to be grievously in the wrong in this matter. Meletus exercises his
power and brings Socrates to trial for misinforming and preaching hearsay to
the youth of Athens.
Socrates has the audacity to proclaim to the jury that the
Oracle of Delphi stated, “that there was no man wiser [than he,
Socrates]. The trial has hardly started and Socrates has already decreed that
he is the wisest man in the world. He believes himself to be superior to the
jurors, especially Meletus. Socrates’ pride plays a major hindrance to his
survival. When one is in the midst of a trial, it is most likely best not to
insult the people directly responsible for one’s fate.
However, the hubris of Socrates compels him to further insult
and embarrass Meletus. Through a direct comparison Socrates states, “I am
better off than he is - for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows. I neither know nor think that I know.” If the audience was not
already aware that Socrates believes himself to better than Meletus, it is now
even more apparent. Socrates must be smarter because he is aware of his ineptitude,
while Meletus is naïve to the fact that he, along with all humans, are actually
quite naïve. In other words Socrates is telling Meletus that he is blissfully
unaware of his own stupidity.
This actually seems like quite a paradoxical statement
from Socrates. For he is claiming to know nothing, but assuming that he knows
the inner workings and thoughts of Meletus’s mind. Socrates is contradicting himself,
and his main belief.
This continues through Socrates’ cross examination of
Meletus. Socrates asks Meletus insulting questions that both he and Meletus
know to be very apparent. For example he asks, “Which is better, to live among
good citizens, or bad ones?” Meletus agrees that it is better to live among
good citizens. If Socrates truly wanted to prove his point that he knows
nothing, he should argue that it is not necessarily better to live among good
citizens. In fact, one might do the city a public service by living among bad
citizens and helping to correct their ways. Socrates does not argue this point,
and continues to ask questions that inflate his pride and attempt to embarrass Meletus.
In one last show of pride, Socrates’ proposes that he
should be publicly honored and celebrated for being found guilty. He should be
celebrated being the wisest man in the world and for opposing the other men
that consider themselves wise or knowledgeable. In the face of his death sentence,
Socrates states that he is not afraid of death because he does not know what
comes after it. While this seems like Socrates is falling back to his “I know
nothing, and I know that I know nothing” routine, this statement is once again
a show of pride. Socrates is refusing to acknowledge any fear of the death
penalty, and is essentially telling Meletus that his punishment is a weak one.
Socrates and his pride are spitting in the face of death to spite Meletus.
The downfall of Socrates was a direct result of his
pride. Meletus too is a prideful man, and Socrates insulted him to the point
where Meletus handed down a death sentence. Socrates truly knew nothing, for he
did not know when to let go of his pride.
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Aristotle from the Poetics and from the Topics
Aristotle,
from the Poetics
Part
XX
Language
in general includes the following parts: Letter, Syllable, Connecting Word,
Noun, Verb, Inflection or Case, Sentence or Phrase.
A
Letter is an indivisible sound, yet not every such sound, but only one which
can form part of a group of sounds. For even brutes utter indivisible sounds,
none of which I call a letter. The sound I mean may be either a vowel, a
semivowel, or a mute. A vowel is that which without impact of tongue or lip has
an audible sound. A semivowel that which with such impact has an audible sound,
as S and R. A mute, that which with such impact has by itself no sound, but
joined to a vowel sound becomes audible, as G and D. These are distinguished
according to the form assumed by the mouth and the place where they are
produced; according as they are aspirated or smooth, long or short; as they are
acute, grave, or of an intermediate tone; which inquiry belongs in detail to
the writers on meter.
A
Syllable is a nonsignificant sound, composed of a mute and a vowel: for GR
without A is a syllable, as also with A- GRA. But the investigation of these
differences belongs also to metrical science.
A
Connecting Word is a nonsignificant sound, which neither causes nor hinders the
union of many sounds into one significant sound; it may be placed at either end
or in the middle of a sentence. Or, a nonsignificant sound, which out of
several sounds, each of them significant, is capable of forming one significant
sound- as amphi, peri, and the like. Or, a nonsignificant sound, which marks
the beginning, end, or division of a sentence; such, however, that it cannot
correctly stand by itself at the beginning of a sentence- as men, etoi, de.
A
Noun is a composite significant sound, not marking time, of which no part is in
itself significant: for in double or compound words we do not employ the
separate parts as if each were in itself significant. Thus in Theodorus,
'god-given,' the doron or 'gift' is not in itself significant.
A
Verb is a composite significant sound, marking time, in which, as in the noun,
no part is in itself significant. For 'man' or 'white' does not express the
idea of 'when'; but 'he walks' or 'he has walked' does connote time, present or
past.
Inflection
belongs both to the noun and verb, and expresses either the relation 'of,'
'to,' or the like; or that of number, whether one or many, as 'man' or 'men';
or the modes or tones in actual delivery, e.g., a question or a command. 'Did
he go?' and 'go' are verbal inflections of this kind.
A
Sentence or Phrase is a composite significant sound, some at least of whose
parts are in themselves significant; for not every such group of words consists
of verbs and nouns- 'the definition of man,' for example- but it may dispense
even with the verb. Still it will always have some significant part, as 'in
walking,' or 'Cleon son of Cleon.' A sentence or phrase may form a unity in two
ways- either as signifying one thing, or as consisting of several parts linked
together. Thus the Iliad is one by the linking together of parts, the
definition of man by the unity of the thing signified.
Part
XXI
Words
are of two kinds, simple and double. By simple I mean those composed of
nonsignificant elements, such as ge, 'earth.' By double or compound, those
composed either of a significant and nonsignificant element (though within the
whole word no element is significant), or of elements that are both
significant. A word may likewise be triple, quadruple, or multiple in form,
like so many Massilian expressions, e.g., 'Hermo-caico-xanthus [who prayed to
Father Zeus].'
Every
word is either current, or strange, or metaphorical, or ornamental, or
newly-coined, or lengthened, or contracted, or altered.
By
a current or proper word I mean one which is in general use among a people; by
a strange word, one which is in use in another country. Plainly, therefore, the
same word may be at once strange and current, but not in relation to the same
people. The word sigynon, 'lance,' is to the Cyprians a current term but to us
a strange one.
Metaphor
is the application of an alien name by transference either from genus to
species, or from species to genus, or from species to species, or by analogy,
that is, proportion. Thus from genus to species, as: 'There lies my ship'; for
lying at anchor is a species of lying. From species to genus, as: 'Verily ten
thousand noble deeds hath Odysseus wrought'; for ten thousand is a species of
large number, and is here used for a large number generally. From species to
species, as: 'With blade of bronze drew away the life,' and 'Cleft the water
with the vessel of unyielding bronze.' Here arusai, 'to draw away' is used for
tamein, 'to cleave,' and tamein, again for arusai- each being a species of
taking away. Analogy or proportion is when the second term is to the first as
the fourth to the third. We may then use the fourth for the second, or the
second for the fourth. Sometimes too we qualify the metaphor by adding the term
to which the proper word is relative. Thus the cup is to Dionysus as the shield
to Ares. The cup may, therefore, be called 'the shield of Dionysus,' and the
shield 'the cup of Ares.' Or, again, as old age is to life, so is evening to
day. Evening may therefore be called, 'the old age of the day,' and old age,
'the evening of life,' or, in the phrase of Empedocles, 'life's setting sun.'
For some of the terms of the proportion there is at times no word in existence;
still the metaphor may be used. For instance, to scatter seed is called sowing:
but the action of the sun in scattering his rays is nameless. Still this
process bears to the sun the same relation as sowing to the seed. Hence the
expression of the poet 'sowing the god-created light.' There is another way in
which this kind of metaphor may be employed. We may apply an alien term, and
then deny of that term one of its proper attributes; as if we were to call the
shield, not 'the cup of Ares,' but 'the wineless cup'.
A
newly-coined word is one which has never been even in local use, but is adopted
by the poet himself. Some such words there appear to be: as ernyges,
'sprouters,' for kerata, 'horns'; and areter, 'supplicator', for hiereus,
'priest.'
A
word is lengthened when its own vowel is exchanged for a longer one, or when a
syllable is inserted. A word is contracted when some part of it is removed.
Instances of lengthening are: poleos for poleos, Peleiadeo for Peleidou; of
contraction: kri, do, and ops, as in mia ginetai amphoteron ops, 'the
appearance of both is one.'
An
altered word is one in which part of the ordinary form is left unchanged, and
part is recast: as in dexiteron kata mazon, 'on the right breast,' dexiteron is
for dexion.
Nouns
in themselves are either masculine, feminine, or neuter. Masculine are such as
end in N, R, S, or in some letter compounded with S- these being two, PS and X.
Feminine, such as end in vowels that are always long, namely E and O, and- of
vowels that admit of lengthening- those in A. Thus the number of letters in
which nouns masculine and feminine end is the same; for PS and X are equivalent
to endings in S. No noun ends in a mute or a vowel short by nature. Three only
end in I- meli, 'honey'; kommi, 'gum'; peperi, 'pepper'; five end in U. Neuter
nouns end in these two latter vowels; also in N and S.
Part
XXII
The
perfection of style is to be clear without being mean. The clearest style is
that which uses only current or proper words; at the same time it is mean-
witness the poetry of Cleophon and of Sthenelus. That diction, on the other
hand, is lofty and raised above the commonplace which employs unusual words. By
unusual, I mean strange (or rare) words, metaphorical, lengthened- anything, in
short, that differs from the normal idiom. Yet a style wholly composed of such
words is either a riddle or a jargon; a riddle, if it consists of metaphors; a
jargon, if it consists of strange (or rare) words. For the essence of a riddle
is to express true facts under impossible combinations. Now this cannot be done
by any arrangement of ordinary words, but by the use of metaphor it can. Such
is the riddle: 'A man I saw who on another man had glued the bronze by aid of
fire,' and others of the same kind. A diction that is made up of strange (or
rare) terms is a jargon. A certain infusion, therefore, of these elements is
necessary to style; for the strange (or rare) word, the metaphorical, the
ornamental, and the other kinds above mentioned, will raise it above the
commonplace and mean, while the use of proper words will make it perspicuous.
But nothing contributes more to produce a cleanness of diction that is remote
from commonness than the lengthening, contraction, and alteration of words. For
by deviating in exceptional cases from the normal idiom, the language will gain
distinction; while, at the same time, the partial conformity with usage will
give perspicuity. The critics, therefore, are in error who censure these
licenses of speech, and hold the author up to ridicule. Thus Eucleides, the
elder, declared that it would be an easy matter to be a poet if you might
lengthen syllables at will. He caricatured the practice in the very form of his
diction, as in the verse:
"Epicharen
eidon Marathonade badizonta,
"I
saw Epichares walking to Marathon, "
or,
"ouk
an g'eramenos ton ekeinou elleboron.
"Not
if you desire his hellebore."
To
employ such license at all obtrusively is, no doubt, grotesque; but in any mode
of poetic diction there must be moderation. Even metaphors, strange (or rare)
words, or any similar forms of speech, would produce the like effect if used
without propriety and with the express purpose of being ludicrous. How great a
difference is made by the appropriate use of lengthening, may be seen in Epic
poetry by the insertion of ordinary forms in the verse. So, again, if we take a
strange (or rare) word, a metaphor, or any similar mode of expression, and
replace it by the current or proper term, the truth of our observation will be
manifest. For example, Aeschylus and Euripides each composed the same iambic
line. But the alteration of a single word by Euripides, who employed the rarer
term instead of the ordinary one, makes one verse appear beautiful and the
other trivial. Aeschylus in his Philoctetes says:
"phagedaina
d'he mou sarkas esthiei podos.
"The
tumor which is eating the flesh of my foot."
Euripides
substitutes thoinatai, 'feasts on,' for esthiei, 'feeds on.' Again, in the
line,
"nun
de m'eon oligos te kai outidanos kai aeikes,
"Yet
a small man, worthless and unseemly,"
the
difference will be felt if we substitute the common words,
"nun
de m'eon mikros te kai asthenikos kai aeides.
"Yet
a little fellow, weak and ugly."
Or,
if for the line,
"diphron
aeikelion katatheis oligen te trapezan,
"Setting
an unseemly couch and a meager table,"
we
read,
"diphron
mochtheron katatheis mikran te trapezan.
"Setting
a wretched couch and a puny table."
Or,
for eiones booosin, 'the sea shores roar,' eiones krazousin, 'the sea shores
screech.'
Again,
Ariphrades ridiculed the tragedians for using phrases which no one would employ
in ordinary speech: for example, domaton apo, 'from the house away,' instead of
apo domaton, 'away from the house;' sethen, ego de nin, 'to thee, and I to
him;' Achilleos peri, 'Achilles about,' instead of peri Achilleos, 'about
Achilles;' and the like. It is precisely because such phrases are not part of the
current idiom that they give distinction to the style. This, however, he failed
to see.
It
is a great matter to observe propriety in these several modes of expression, as
also in compound words, strange (or rare) words, and so forth. But the greatest
thing by far is to have a command of metaphor. This alone cannot be imparted by
another; it is the mark of genius, for to make good metaphors implies an eye
for resemblances.
Of
the various kinds of words, the compound are best adapted to dithyrambs, rare
words to heroic poetry, metaphors to iambic. In heroic poetry, indeed, all
these varieties are serviceable. But in iambic verse, which reproduces, as far
as may be, familiar speech, the most appropriate words are those which are
found even in prose. These are the current or proper, the metaphorical, the
ornamental.
Concerning
Tragedy and imitation by means of action this may suffice.
Aristotle:
From, Topics
Part
1
Our
treatise proposes to find a line of inquiry whereby we shall be able to reason
from opinions that are generally accepted about every problem propounded to us,
and also shall ourselves, when standing up to an argument, avoid saying
anything that will obstruct us. First, then, we must say what reasoning is, and
what its varieties are, in order to grasp dialectical reasoning: for this is
the object of our search in the treatise before us.
Now
reasoning is an argument in which, certain things being laid down, something
other than these necessarily comes about through them. (a) It is a
'demonstration', when the premisses from which the reasoning starts are true
and primary, or are such that our knowledge of them has originally come through
premisses which are primary and true: (b) reasoning, on the other hand, is
'dialectical', if it reasons from opinions that are generally accepted. Things
are 'true' and 'primary' which are believed on the strength not of anything
else but of themselves: for in regard to the first principles of science it is
improper to ask any further for the why and wherefore of them; each of the
first principles should command belief in and by itself. On the other hand,
those opinions are 'generally accepted' which are accepted by every one or by
the majority or by the philosophers-i.e. by all, or by the majority, or by the
most notable and illustrious of them. Again (c), reasoning is 'contentious' if
it starts from opinions that seem to be generally accepted, but are not really
such, or again if it merely seems to reason from opinions that are or seem to
be generally accepted. For not every opinion that seems to be generally
accepted actually is generally accepted. For in none of the opinions which we
call generally accepted is the illusion entirely on the surface, as happens in
the case of the principles of contentious arguments; for the nature of the
fallacy in these is obvious immediately, and as a rule even to persons with
little power of comprehension. So then, of the contentious reasonings
mentioned, the former really deserves to be called 'reasoning' as well, but the
other should be called 'contentious reasoning', but not 'reasoning', since it
appears to reason, but does not really do so. Further (d), besides all the
reasonings we have mentioned there are the mis-reasonings that start from the
premisses peculiar to the special sciences, as happens (for example) in the
case of geometry and her sister sciences. For this form of reasoning appears to
differ from the reasonings mentioned above; the man who draws a false figure
reasons from things that are neither true and primary, nor yet generally
accepted. For he does not fall within the definition; he does not assume
opinions that are received either by every one or by the majority or by
philosophers-that is to say, by all, or by most, or by the most illustrious of
them-but he conducts his reasoning upon assumptions which, though appropriate
to the science in question, are not true; for he effects his mis-reasoning
either by describing the semicircles wrongly or by drawing certain lines in a
way in which they could not be drawn.
The
foregoing must stand for an outline survey of the species of reasoning. In
general, in regard both to all that we have already discussed and to those
which we shall discuss later, we may remark that that amount of distinction
between them may serve, because it is not our purpose to give the exact
definition of any of them; we merely want to describe them in outline; we
consider it quite enough from the point of view of the line of inquiry before
us to be able to recognize each of them in some sort of way.
Part
2
Next
in order after the foregoing, we must say for how many and for what purposes
the treatise is useful. They are three-intellectual training, casual
encounters, and the philosophical sciences. That it is useful as a training is
obvious on the face of it. The possession of a plan of inquiry will enable us
more easily to argue about the subject proposed. For purposes of casual
encounters, it is useful because when we have counted up the opinions held by
most people, we shall meet them on the ground not of other people's convictions
but of their own, while we shift the ground of any argument that they appear to
us to state unsoundly. For the study of the philosophical sciences it is
useful, because the ability to raise searching difficulties on both sides of a
subject will make us detect more easily the truth and error about the several
points that arise. It has a further use in relation to the ultimate bases of
the principles used in the several sciences. For it is impossible to discuss
them at all from the principles proper to the particular science in hand,
seeing that the principles are the prius of everything else: it is through the
opinions generally held on the particular points that these have to be
discussed, and this task belongs properly, or most appropriately, to dialectic:
for dialectic is a process of criticism wherein lies the path to the principles
of all inquiries.
Part
3
We
shall be in perfect possession of the way to proceed when we are in a position
like that which we occupy in regard to rhetoric and medicine and faculties of
that kind: this means the doing of that which we choose with the materials that
are available. For it is not every method that the rhetorician will employ to
persuade, or the doctor to heal; still, if he omits none of the available
means, we shall say that his grasp of the science is adequate.
Part
4
First,
then, we must see of what parts our inquiry consists. Now if we were to grasp
(a) with reference to how many, and what kind of, things arguments take place,
and with what materials they start, and (h) how we are to become well supplied
with these, we should have sufficiently won our goal. Now the materials with
which arguments start are equal in number, and are identical, with the subjects
on which reasonings take place. For arguments start with 'propositions', while
the subjects on which reasonings take place are 'problems'. Now every
proposition and every problem indicates either a genus or a peculiarity or an
accident-for the differentia too, applying as it does to a class (or genus),
should be ranked together with the genus. Since, however, of what is peculiar
to anything part signifies its essence, while part does not, let us divide the
'peculiar' into both the aforesaid parts, and call that part which indicates
the essence a 'definition', while of the remainder let us adopt the terminology
which is generally current about these things, and speak of it as a 'property'.
What we have said, then, makes it clear that according to our present division,
the elements turn out to be four, all told, namely either property or
definition or genus or accident. Do not let any one suppose us to mean that
each of these enunciated by itself constitutes a proposition or problem, but
only that it is from these that both problems and propositions are formed. The
difference between a problem and a proposition is a difference in the turn of
the phrase. For if it be put in this way, "'An animal that walks on two
feet" is the definition of man, is it not?' or '"Animal" is the
genus of man, is it not?' the result is a proposition: but if thus, 'Is
"an animal that walks on two feet" a definition of man or no?' [or
'Is "animal" his genus or no?'] the result is a problem. Similarly
too in other cases. Naturally, then, problems and propositions are equal in
number: for out of every proposition you will make a problem if you change the
turn of the phrase.
Part
5
We
must now say what are 'definition', 'property', 'genus', and 'accident'. A
'definition' is a phrase signifying a thing's essence. It is rendered in the
form either of a phrase in lieu of a term, or of a phrase in lieu of another
phrase; for it is sometimes possible to define the meaning of a phrase as well.
People whose rendering consists of a term only, try it as they may, clearly do
not render the definition of the thing in question, because a definition is
always a phrase of a certain kind. One may, however, use the word 'definitory'
also of such a remark as 'The "becoming" is "beautiful"',
and likewise also of the question, 'Are sensation and knowledge the same or
different?', for argument about definitions is mostly concerned with questions
of sameness and difference. In a word we may call 'definitory' everything that
falls under the same branch of inquiry as definitions; and that all the
above-mentioned examples are of this character is clear on the face of them.
For if we are able to argue that two things are the same or are different, we
shall be well supplied by the same turn of argument with lines of attack upon
their definitions as well: for when we have shown that they are not the same we
shall have demolished the definition. Observe, please, that the converse of
this last statement does not hold: for to show that they are the same is not
enough to establish a definition. To show, however, that they are not the same
is enough of itself to overthrow it.
A
'property' is a predicate which does not indicate the essence of a thing, but
yet belongs to that thing alone, and is predicated convertibly of it. Thus it
is a property of man to-be-capable of learning grammar: for if A be a man, then
he is capable of learning grammar, and if he be capable of learning grammar, he
is a man. For no one calls anything a 'property' which may possibly belong to
something else, e.g. 'sleep' in the case of man, even though at a certain time
it may happen to belong to him alone. That is to say, if any such thing were
actually to be called a property, it will be called not a 'property'
absolutely, but a 'temporary' or a 'relative' property: for 'being on the right
hand side' is a temporary property, while 'two-footed' is in point of fact
ascribed as a property in certain relations; e.g. it is a property of man
relatively to a horse and a dog. That nothing which may belong to anything else
than A is a convertible predicate of A is clear: for it does not necessarily
follow that if something is asleep it is a man.
A
'genus' is what is predicated in the category of essence of a number of things
exhibiting differences in kind. We should treat as predicates in the category
of essence all such things as it would be appropriate to mention in reply to
the question, 'What is the object before you?'; as, for example, in the case of
man, if asked that question, it is appropriate to say 'He is an animal'. The
question, 'Is one thing in the same genus as another or in a different one?' is
also a 'generic' question; for a question of that kind as well falls under the
same branch of inquiry as the genus: for having argued that 'animal' is the
genus of man, and likewise also of ox, we shall have argued that they are in
the same genus; whereas if we show that it is the genus of the one but not of
the other, we shall have argued that these things are not in the same genus.
An
'accident' is (i) something which, though it is none of the foregoing-i.e.
neither a definition nor a property nor a genus yet belongs to the thing:
(something which may possibly either belong or not belong to any one and the
self-same thing, as (e.g.) the 'sitting posture' may belong or not belong to
some self-same thing. Likewise also 'whiteness', for there is nothing to
prevent the same thing being at one time white, and at another not white. Of
the definitions of accident the second is the better: for if he adopts the
first, any one is bound, if he is to understand it, to know already what
'definition' and 'genus' and 'property' are, whereas the second is sufficient
of itself to tell us the essential meaning of the term in question. To Accident
are to be attached also all comparisons of things together, when expressed in
language that is drawn in any kind of way from what happens (accidit) to be
true of them; such as, for example, the question, 'Is the honourable or the
expedient preferable?' and 'Is the life of virtue or the life of
self-indulgence the pleasanter?', and any other problem which may happen to be
phrased in terms like these. For in all such cases the question is 'to which of
the two does the predicate in question happen (accidit) to belong more
closely?' It is clear on the face of it that there is nothing to prevent an
accident from becoming a temporary or relative property. Thus the sitting
posture is an accident, but will be a temporary property, whenever a man is the
only person sitting, while if he be not the only one sitting, it is still a
property relatively to those who are not sitting. So then, there is nothing to
prevent an accident from becoming both a relative and a temporary property; but
a property absolutely it will never be.
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