40 The always acute and often profound author of An Outline of Sematology (Mr. B. H. Smart) justly says, "Locke will be much more intelligible, if, in the majority of places, we substitute 'the knowledge of' for what he calls 'the Idea of' " (p. 10). Among the many criticisms on Locke's use of the word Idea, this is the one which, as it appears to me, most nearly hits the mark; and I quote it for the additional reason that it precisely expresses the point of difference respecting the import of Propositions, between my view and what I have spoken of as the Conceptualist view of them. Where a Conceptualist says that a name or a proposition expresses our Idea of a thing, I should generally say (instead of our Idea) our Knowledge, or Belief, concerning the thing itself.

41 This distinction corresponds to that which is drawn by Kant and other metaphysicians between what they term analytic and synthetic, judgments; the former being those which can be evolved from the meaning of the terms used.

42 If we allow a differentia to what is not really a species. For the distinction of Kinds, in the sense explained by us, not being in any way applicable to attributes, it of course follows that although attributes may be put into classes, those classes can be admitted to be genera or species only by courtesy.

43 Professor Bain, in his Logic, takes a peculiar view of Definition. He holds (i., 71) with the present work, that "the definition in its full import, is the sum of all the properties connoted by the name; it exhausts the meaning of a word." But he regards the meaning of a general name as including, not indeed all the common properties of the class named, but all of them that are ultimate properties, not resolvable into one another. "The enumeration of the attributes of oxygen, of gold, of man, should be an enumeration of the final (so far as can be made out), the underivable, powers or functions of each," and nothing less than this is a complete Definition (i., 75). An independent property, not derivable from other properties, even if previously unknown, yet as soon as discovered becomes, according to him, part of the meaning of the term, and should be included in the definition. "When we are told that diamond, which we know to be a transparent, glittering, hard, and high-priced substance, is composed of carbon, and is combustible, we must put these additional properties on the same level as the rest; to us they are henceforth connoted by the name" (i., 73). Consequently the propositions that diamond is composed of carbon, and that it is combustible, are regarded by Mr. Bain as merely verbal propositions. He carries this doctrine so far as to say that unless mortality can be shown to be a consequence of the ultimate laws of animal organization, mortality is connoted by man, and "Man is Mortal" is a merely verbal proposition. And one of the peculiarities (I think a disadvantageous peculiarity) of his able and valuable treatise, is the large number of propositions requiring proof, and learned by experience, which, in conformity with this doctrine, he considers as not real, but verbal, propositions.

The objection I have to this language is that it confounds, or at least confuses, a much more important distinction than that which it draws. The only reason for dividing Propositions into real and verbal, is in order to discriminate propositions which convey information about facts, from those which do not. A proposition which affirms that an object has a given attribute, while designating the object by a name which already signifies the attribute, adds no information to that which was already possessed by all who understood the name. But when this is said, it is implied that, by the signification of a name, is meant the signification attached to it in the common usage of life. I can not think we ought to say that the meaning of a word includes matters of fact which are unknown to every person who uses the word unless he has learned them by special study of a particular department of Nature; or that because a few persons are aware of these matters of fact, the affirmation of them is a proposition conveying no information. I hold that (special scientific connotation apart) a name means, or connotes, only the properties which it is a mark of in the general mind; and that in the case of any additional properties, however uniformly found to accompany these, it remains possible that a thing which did not possess the properties might still be thought entitled to the name. Ruminant, according to Mr. Bain's use of language, connotes cloven-hoofed, since the two properties are always found together, and no connection has ever been discovered between them: but ruminant does not mean cloven-hoofed; and were an animal to be discovered which chews the cud, but has its feet undivided, I venture to say that it would still be called ruminant.

44 In the fuller discussion which Archbishop Whately has given to this subject in his later editions, he almost ceases to regard the definitions of names and those of things as, in any important sense, distinct. He seems (9th ed., p. 145) to limit the notion of a Real Definition to one which "explains any thing more of the nature of the thing than is implied in the name;" (including under the word "implied," not only what the name connotes, but every thing which can be deduced by reasoning from the attributes connoted). Even this, as he adds, is usually called not a Definition, but a Description; and (as it seems to me) rightly so called. A Description, I conceive, can only be ranked among Definitions, when taken (as in the case of the zoological definition of man) to fulfill the true office of a Definition, by declaring the connotation given to a word in some special use, as a term of science or art: which special connotation of course would not be expressed by the proper definition of the word in its ordinary employment.

Mr. De Morgan, exactly reversing the doctrine of Archbishop Whately, understands by a Real Definition one which contains less than the Nominal Definition, provided only that what it contains is sufficient for distinction. "By real definition I mean such an explanation of the word, be it the whole of the meaning or only part, as will be sufficient to separate the things contained under that word from all others. Thus the following, I believe, is a complete definition of an elephant: An animal which naturally drinks by drawing the water into its nose, and then spurting it into its mouth."—Formal Logic, p. 36. Mr. De Morgan's general proposition and his example are at variance; for the peculiar mode of drinking of the elephant certainly forms no part of the meaning of the word elephant. It could not be said, because a person happened to be ignorant of this property, that he did not know what an elephant means.

45 In the only attempt which, so far as I know, has been made to refute the preceding argumentation, it is maintained that in the first form of the syllogism,

A dragon is a thing which breathes flame, A dragon is a serpent, Therefore some serpent or serpents breathe flame,

"there is just as much truth in the conclusion as there is in the premises, or rather, no more in the latter than in the former. If the general name serpent includes both real and imaginary serpents, there is no falsity in the conclusion; if not, there is falsity in the minor premise."

Let us, then, try to set out the syllogism on the hypothesis that the name serpent includes imaginary serpents. We shall find that it is now necessary to alter the predicates; for it can not be asserted that an imaginary creature breathes flame; in predicating of it such a fact, we assert by the most positive implication that it is real, and not imaginary. The conclusion must run thus, "Some serpent or serpents either do or are imagined to breathe flame." And to prove this conclusion by the instance of dragons, the premises must be, A dragon is imagined as breathing flame. A dragon is a (real or imaginary) serpent: from which it undoubtedly follows, that there are serpents which are imagined to breathe flame; but the major premise is not a definition, nor part of a definition; which is all that I am concerned to prove.

Let us now examine the other assertion—that if the word serpent stands for none but real serpents, the minor premise (a dragon is a serpent) is false. This is exactly what I have myself said of the premise, considered as a statement of fact: but it is not false as part of the definition of a dragon; and since the premises, or one of them, must be false (the conclusion being so), the real premise can not be the definition, which is true, but the statement of fact, which is false.

46 "Few people" (I have said in another place) "have reflected how great a knowledge of Things is required to enable a man to affirm that any given argument turns wholly upon words. There is, perhaps, not one of the leading terms of philosophy which is not used in almost innumerable shades of meaning, to express ideas more or less widely different from one another. Between two of these ideas a sagacious and penetrating mind will discern, as it were intuitively, an unobvious link of connection, upon which, though perhaps unable to give a logical account of it, he will found a perfectly valid argument, which his critic, not having so keen an insight into the Things, will mistake for a fallacy turning on the double meaning of a term. And the greater the genius of him who thus safely leaps over the chasm, the greater will probably be the crowing and vainglory of the mere logician, who, hobbling after him, evinces his own superior wisdom by pausing on its brink, and giving up as desperate his proper business of bridging it over."

47 The different cases of Equipollency, or "Equivalent Propositional Forms," are set forth with some fullness in Professor Bain's Logic. One of the commonest of these changes of expression, that from affirming a proposition to denying its negative, or vice versa, Mr. Bain designates, very happily, by the name Obversion.

48 As Sir William Hamilton has pointed out, "Some A is not B" may also be converted in the following form: "No B is some A." Some men are not negroes; therefore, No negroes are some men (e.g., Europeans).

49 Contraries: All A is B No A is B

Subtraries: Some A is B Some A is not B

Contradictories: All A is B Some A is not B

Also contradictories: No A is B Some A is B

Respectively subalternate: All A is B and No A is B Some A is B and Some A is not B

50 Professor Bain denies the claim of Singular Propositions to be classed, for the purposes of ratiocination, with Universal; though they come within the designation which he himself proposes as an equivalent for Universal, that of Total. He would even, to use his own expression, banish them entirely from the syllogism. He takes as an example,

Socrates is wise, Socrates is poor, therefore Some poor men are wise,

or more properly (as he observes) "one poor man is wise." "Now, if wise, poor, and a man, are attributes belonging to the meaning of the word Socrates, there is then no march of reasoning at all. We have given in Socrates, inter alia, the facts wise, poor, and a man, and we merely repeat the concurrence which is selected from the whole aggregate of properties making up the whole, Socrates. The case is one under the head 'Greater and Less Connotation' in Equivalent Propositional Forms, or Immediate Inference.

"But the example in this form does not do justice to the syllogism of singulars. We must suppose both propositions to be real, the predicates being in no way involved in the subject. Thus

Socrates was the master of Plato, Socrates fought at Delium, The master of Plato fought at Delium.

"It may fairly be doubted whether the transitions, in this instance, are any thing more than equivalent forms. For the proposition 'Socrates was the master of Plato and fought at Delium,' compounded out of the two premises, is obviously nothing more than a grammatical abbreviation. No one can say that there is here any change of meaning, or any thing beyond a verbal modification of the original form. The next step is, 'The master of Plato fought at Delium,' which is the previous statement cut down by the omission of Socrates. It contents itself with reproducing a part of the meaning, or saying less than had been previously said. The full equivalent of the affirmation is, 'The master of Plato fought at Delium, and the master of Plato was Socrates:' the new form omits the last piece of information, and gives only the first. Now, we never consider that we have made a real inference, a step in advance, when we repeat less than we are entitled to say, or drop from a complex statement some portion not desired at the moment. Such an operation keeps strictly within the domain of equivalence, or Immediate Inference. In no way, therefore, can a syllogism with two singular premises be viewed as a genuine syllogistic or deductive inference." (Logic, i., 159.)

The first argument, as will have been seen, rests upon the supposition that the name Socrates has a meaning; that man, wise, and poor, are parts of this meaning; and that by predicating them of Socrates we convey no information; a view of the signification of names which, for reasons already given (Note to 4 of the chapter on Definition, supra, pp. 110, 111.), I can not admit, and which, as applied to the class of names which Socrates belongs to, is at war with Mr. Bain's own definition of a Proper Name (i., 148), "a single meaningless mark or designation appropriated to the thing." Such names, Mr. Bain proceeded to say, do not necessarily indicate even human beings: much less then does the name Socrates include the meaning of wise or poor. Otherwise it would follow that if Socrates had grown rich, or had lost his mental faculties by illness, he would no longer have been called Socrates.

The second part of Mr. Bain's argument, in which he contends that even when the premises convey real information, the conclusion is merely the premises with a part left out, is applicable, if at all, as much to universal propositions as to singular. In every syllogism the conclusion contains less than is asserted in the two premises taken together. Suppose the syllogism to be

All bees are intelligent, All bees are insects, therefore Some insects are intelligent:

one might use the same liberty taken by Mr. Bain, of joining together the two premises as if they were one—"All bees are insects and intelligent"—and might say that in omitting the middle term bees we make no real inference, but merely reproduce part of what had been previously said. Mr. Bain's is really an objection to the syllogism itself, or at all events to the third figure: it has no special applicability to singular propositions.

51 His conclusions are, "The first figure is suited to the discovery or proof of the properties of a thing; the second to the discovery or proof of the distinctions between things; the third to the discovery or proof of instances and exceptions; the fourth to the discovery, or exclusion, of the different species of a genus." The reference of syllogisms in the last three figures to the dictum de omni et nullo is, in Lambert's opinion, strained and unnatural: to each of the three belongs, according to him, a separate axiom, co-ordinate and of equal authority with that dictum, and to which he gives the names of dictum de diverso for the second figure, dictum de exemplo for the third, and dictum de reciproco for the fourth. See part i., or Dianoiologie, chap, iv., 229 et seqq. Mr. Bailey (Theory of Reasoning, 2d ed., pp. 70-74) takes a similar view of the subject.

52 Since this chapter was written, two treatises have appeared (or rather a treatise and a fragment of a treatise), which aim at a further improvement in the theory of the forms of ratiocination: Mr. De Morgan's "Formal Logic; or, the Calculus of Inference, Necessary and Probable;" and the "New Analytic of Logical Forms," attached as an Appendix to Sir William Hamilton's Discussions on Philosophy, and at greater length, to his posthumous Lectures on Logic.

In Mr. De Morgan's volume—abounding, in its more popular parts, with valuable observations felicitously expressed—the principal feature of originality is an attempt to bring within strict technical rules the cases in which a conclusion can be drawn from premises of a form usually classed as particular. Mr. De Morgan observes, very justly, that from the premises most Bs are Cs, most Bs are As, it may be concluded with certainty that some As are Cs, since two portions of the class B, each of them comprising more than half, must necessarily in part consist of the same individuals. Following out this line of thought, it is equally evident that if we knew exactly what proportion the "most" in each of the premises bear to the entire class B, we could increase in a corresponding degree the definiteness of the conclusion. Thus if 60 per cent. of B are included in C, and 70 per cent. in A, 30 per cent. at least must be common to both; in other words, the number of As which are Cs, and of Cs which are As, must be at least equal to 30 per cent. of the class B. Proceeding on this conception of "numerically definite propositions," and extending it to such forms as these:—"45 Xs (or more) are each of them one of 70 Ys," or "45 Xs (or more) are no one of them to be found among 70 Ys," and examining what inferences admit of being drawn from the various combinations which may be made of premises of this description, Mr. De Morgan establishes universal formulae for such inferences; creating for that purpose not only a new technical language, but a formidable array of symbols analogous to those of algebra.

Since it is undeniable that inferences, in the cases examined by Mr. De Morgan, can legitimately be drawn, and that the ordinary theory takes no account of them, I will not say that it was not worth while to show in detail how these also could be reduced to formulae as rigorous as those of Aristotle. What Mr. De Morgan has done was worth doing once (perhaps more than once, as a school exercise); but I question if its results are worth studying and mastering for any practical purpose. The practical use of technical forms of reasoning is to bar out fallacies: but the fallacies which require to be guarded against in ratiocination properly so called, arise from the incautious use of the common forms of language; and the logician must track the fallacy into that territory, instead of waiting for it on a territory of his own. While he remains among propositions which have acquired the numerical precision of the Calculus of Probabilities, the enemy is left in possession of the only ground on which he can be formidable. And since the propositions (short of universal) on which a thinker has to depend, either for purposes of speculation or of practice, do not, except in a few peculiar cases, admit of any numerical precision; common reasoning can not be translated into Mr. De Morgan's forms, which therefore can not serve any purpose as a test of it.

Sir William Hamilton's theory of the "quantification of the predicate" may be described as follows:

"Logically" (I quote his words) "we ought to take into account the quantity, always understood in thought, but usually, for manifest reasons, elided in its expression, not only of the subject, but also of the predicate of a judgment." All A is B, is equivalent to all A is some B. No A is B, to No A is any B. Some A is B, is tantamount to some A is some B. Some A is not B, to Some A is not any B. As in these forms of assertion the predicate is exactly co-extensive with the subject, they all admit of simple conversion; and by this we obtain two additional forms—Some B is all A, and No B is some A. We may also make the assertion All A is all B, which will be true if the classes A and B are exactly co-extensive. The last three forms, though conveying real assertions, have no place in the ordinary classification of Propositions. All propositions, then, being supposed to be translated into this language, and written each in that one of the preceding forms which answers to its signification, there emerges a new set of syllogistic rules, materially different from the common ones. A general view of the points of difference may be given in the words of Sir W. Hamilton (Discussions, 2d ed., p. 651):

"The revocation of the two terms of a Proposition to their true relation; a proposition being always an equation of its subject and its predicate.

"The consequent reduction of the Conversion of Propositions from three species to one—that of Simple Conversion.

"The reduction of all the General Laws of Categorical Syllogisms to a single Canon.

"The evolution from that one canon of all the Species and varieties of Syllogisms.

"The abrogation of all the Special Laws of Syllogism.

"A demonstration of the exclusive possibility of Three Syllogistic Figures; and (on new grounds) the scientific and final abolition of the Fourth.

"A manifestation that Figure is an unessential variation in syllogistic form; and the consequent absurdity of Reducing the syllogisms of the other figures to the first.

"An enouncement of one Organic Principle for each Figure.

"A determination of the true number of the Legitimate Moods; with

"Their amplification in number (thirty-six);

"Their numerical equality under all the figures; and

"Their relative equivalence, or virtual identity, throughout every schematic difference.

"That, in the second and third figures, the extremes holding both the same relation to the middle term, there is not, as in the first, an opposition and subordination between a term major and a term minor, mutually containing and contained, in the counter wholes of Extension and Comprehension.

"Consequently, in the second and third figures, there is no determinate major and minor premises, and there are two indifferent conclusions: whereas in the first the premises are determinate, and there is a single proximate conclusion."

This doctrine, like that of Mr. De Morgan previously noticed, is a real addition to the syllogistic theory; and has moreover this advantage over Mr. De Morgan's "numerically definite Syllogism," that the forms it supplies are really available as a test of the correctness of ratiocination; since propositions in the common form may always have their predicates quantified, and so be made amenable to Sir W. Hamilton's rules. Considered, however, as a contribution to the Science of Logic, that is, to the analysis of the mental processes concerned in reasoning, the new doctrine appears to me, I confess, not merely superfluous, but erroneous; since the form in which it clothes propositions does not, like the ordinary form, express what is in the mind of the speaker when he enunciates the proposition. I can not think Sir William Hamilton right in maintaining that the quantity of the predicate is "always understood in thought." It is implied, but is not present to the mind of the person who asserts the proposition. The quantification of the predicate, instead of being a means of bringing out more clearly the meaning of the proposition, actually leads the mind out of the proposition, into another order of ideas. For when we say, All men are mortal, we simply mean to affirm the attribute mortality of all men; without thinking at all of the class mortal in the concrete, or troubling ourselves about whether it contains any other beings or not. It is only for some artificial purpose that we ever look at the proposition in the aspect in which the predicate also is thought of as a class-name, either including the subject only, or the subject and something more. (See above, p. 77, 78.)

For a fuller discussion of this subject, see the twenty-second chapter of a work already referred to, "An Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy."

53 Mr. Herbert Spencer (Principles of Psychology, pp. 125-7), though his theory of the syllogism coincides with all that is essential of mine, thinks it a logical fallacy to present the two axioms in the text, as the regulating principles of syllogism. He charges me with falling into the error pointed out by Archbishop Whately and myself, of confounding exact likeness with literal identity; and maintains, that we ought not to say that Socrates possesses the same attributes which are connoted by the word Man, but only that he possesses attributes exactly like them: according to which phraseology, Socrates, and the attribute mortality, are not two things co-existing with the same thing, as the axiom asserts, but two things coexisting with two different things.

The question between Mr. Spencer and me is merely one of language; for neither of us (if I understand Mr. Spencer's opinions rightly) believes an attribute to be a real thing, possessed of objective existence; we believe it to be a particular mode of naming our sensations, or our expectations of sensation, when looked at in their relation to an external object which excites them. The question raised by Mr. Spencer does not, therefore, concern the properties of any really existing thing, but the comparative appropriateness, for philosophical purposes, of two different modes of using a name. Considered in this point of view, the phraseology I have employed, which is that commonly used by philosophers, seems to me to be the best. Mr. Spencer is of opinion that because Socrates and Alcibiades are not the same man, the attribute which constitutes them men should not be called the same attribute; that because the humanity of one man and that of another express themselves to our senses not by the same individual sensations but by sensations exactly alike, humanity ought to be regarded as a different attribute in every different man. But on this showing, the humanity even of any one man should be considered as different attributes now and half an hour hence; for the sensations by which it will then manifest itself to my organs will not be a continuation of my present sensations, but a repetition of them; fresh sensations, not identical with, but only exactly like the present. If every general conception, instead of being "the One in the Many," were considered to be as many different conceptions as there are things to which it is applicable, there would be no such thing as general language. A name would have no general meaning if man connoted one thing when predicated of John, and another, though closely resembling, thing when predicated of William. Accordingly a recent pamphlet asserts the impossibility of general knowledge on this precise ground.

The meaning of any general name is some outward or inward phenomenon, consisting, in the last resort, of feelings; and these feelings, if their continuity is for an instant broken, are no longer the same feelings, in the sense of individual identity. What, then, is the common something which gives a meaning to the general name? Mr. Spencer can only say, it is the similarity of the feelings; and I rejoin, the attribute is precisely that similarity. The names of attributes are in their ultimate analysis names for the resemblances of our sensations (or other feelings). Every general name, whether abstract or concrete, denotes or connotes one or more of those resemblances. It will not, probably, be denied, that if a hundred sensations are undistinguishably alike, their resemblance ought to be spoken of as one resemblance, and not a hundred resemblances which merely resemble one another. The things compared are many, but the something common to all of them must be conceived as one, just as the name is conceived as one, though corresponding to numerically different sensations of sound each time it is pronounced. The general term man does not connote the sensations derived once from one man, which, once gone, can no more occur again than the same flash of lightning. It connotes the general type of the sensations derived always from all men, and the power (always thought of as one) of producing sensations of that type. And the axiom might be thus worded: Two types of sensation each of which co-exists with a third type, co-exist with another; or Two powers each of which co-exists with a third power co-exist with one another.

Mr. Spencer has misunderstood me in another particular. He supposes that the co-existence spoken of in the axiom, of two things with the same third thing, means simultaneousness in time. The co-existence meant is that of being jointly attributes of the same subject. The attribute of being born without teeth, and the attribute of having thirty-two teeth in mature age, are in this sense co-existent, both being attributes of man, though ex vi termini never of the same man at the same time.

54 Supra, p. 93.

55 Professor Bain (Logic, i., 157) considers the axiom (or rather axioms) here proposed as a substitute for the dictum de omni, to possess certain advantages, but to be "unworkable as a basis of the syllogism. The fatal defect consists in this, that it is ill-adapted to bring out the difference between total and partial coincidence of terms, the observation of which is the essential precaution in syllogizing correctly. If all the terms were co-extensive, the axiom would flow on admirably; A carries B, all B and none but B; B carries C in the same manner; at once A carries C, without limitation or reserve. But in point of fact, we know that while A carries B, other things carry B also; whence a process of limitation is required, in transferring A to C through B. A (in common with other things) carries B; B (in common with other things) carries C; whence A (in common with other things) carries C. The axiom provides no means of making this limitation; if we were to follow A literally, we should be led to suppose A and C co-extensive: for such is the only obvious meaning of 'the attribute A coincides with the attribute C.' "

It is certainly possible that a careless learner here and there may suppose that if A carries B, it follows that B carries A. But if any one is so incautious as to commit this mistake, the very earliest lesson in the logic of inference, the Conversion of propositions, will correct it. The first of the two forms in which I have stated the axiom, is in some degree open to Mr. Bain's criticism: when B is said to co-exist with A (it must be by a lapsus calami that Mr. Bain uses the word coincide), it is possible, in the absence of warning, to suppose the meaning to be that the two things are only found together. But this misinterpretation is excluded by the other, or practical, form of the maxim; Nota notoe est nota rei ipsius. No one would be in any danger of inferring that because a is a mark of b, b can never exist without a; that because being in a confirmed consumption is a mark of being about to die, no one dies who is not in a consumption; that because being coal is a mark of having come out of the earth, nothing can come out of the earth except coal. Ordinary knowledge of English seems a sufficient protection against these mistakes, since in speaking of a mark of any thing we are never understood as implying reciprocity.

A more fundamental objection is stated by Mr. Bain in a subsequent passage (p. 158). "The axiom does not accommodate itself to the type of Deductive Reasoning as contrasted with Induction—the application of a general principle to a special case. Any thing that fails to make prominent this circumstance is not adapted as a foundation for the syllogism." But though it may be proper to limit the term Deduction to the application of a general principle to a special case, it has never been held that Ratiocination or Syllogism is subject to the same limitation; and the adoption of it would exclude a great amount of valid and conclusive syllogistic reasoning. Moreover, if the dictum de omni makes prominent the fact of the application of a general principle to a particular case, the axiom I propose makes prominent the condition which alone makes that application a real inference.

I conclude, therefore, that both forms have their value, and their place in Logic. The dictum de omni should be retained as the fundamental axiom of the logic of mere consistency, often called Formal Logic; nor have I ever quarreled with the use of it in that character, nor proposed to banish it from treatises on Formal Logic. But the other is the proper axiom for the logic of the pursuit of truth by way of Deduction; and the recognition of it can alone show how it is possible that deductive reasoning can be a road to truth.

56 Logic, p. 239 (9th ed.).

57 It is hardly necessary to say, that I am not contending for any such absurdity as that we actually "ought to have known" and considered the case of every individual man, past, present, and future, before affirming that all men are mortal: although this interpretation has been, strangely enough, put upon the preceding observations. There is no difference between me and Archbishop Whately, or any other defender of the syllogism, on the practical part of the matter; I am only pointing out an inconsistency in the logical theory of it, as conceived by almost all writers. I do not say that a person who affirmed, before the Duke of Wellington was born, that all men are mortal, knew that the Duke of Wellington was mortal; but I do say that he asserted it; and I ask for an explanation of the apparent logical fallacy, of adducing in proof of the Duke of Wellington's mortality, a general statement which presupposes it. Finding no sufficient resolution of this difficulty in any of the writers on Logic, I have attempted to supply one.

58 The language of ratiocination would, I think, be brought into closer agreement with the real nature of the process, if the general propositions employed in reasoning, instead of being in the form All men are mortal, or Every man is mortal, were expressed in the form Any man is mortal. This mode of expression, exhibiting as the type of all reasoning from experience "The men A, B, C, etc., are so and so, therefore any man is so and so," would much better manifest the true idea—that inductive reasoning is always, at bottom, inference from particulars to particulars, and that the whole function of general propositions in reasoning, is to vouch for the legitimacy of such inferences.

59 Review of Quetelet on Probabilities, Essays, p. 367.

60 Philosophy of Discovery, p. 289.

61 Theory of Reasoning, chap. iv., to which I may refer for an able statement and enforcement of the grounds of the doctrine.

62 On a recent careful reperusal of Berkeley's whole works, I have been unable to find this doctrine in them. Sir John Herschel probably meant that it is implied in Berkeley's argument against abstract ideas. But I can not find that Berkeley saw the implication, or had ever asked himself what bearing his argument had on the theory of the syllogism. Still less can I admit that the doctrine is (as has been affirmed by one of my ablest and most candid critics) "among the standing marks of what is called the empirical philosophy."

63 Logic, book iv., chap. i., sect. 1.

64 See the important chapter on Belief, in Professor Bain's great treatise, The Emotions and the Will, pp. 581-4.

65 A writer in the "British Quarterly Review" (August, 1846), in a review of this treatise, endeavors to show that there is no petitio principii in the syllogism, by denying that the proposition, All men are mortal, asserts or assumes that Socrates is mortal. In support of this denial, he argues that we may, and in fact do, admit the general proposition that all men are mortal, without having particularly examined the case of Socrates, and even without knowing whether the individual so named is a man or something else. But this of course was never denied. That we can and do draw conclusions concerning cases specifically unknown to us, is the datum from which all who discuss this subject must set out. The question is, in what terms the evidence, or ground, on which we draw these conclusions, may best be designated—whether it is most correct to say, that the unknown case is proved by known cases, or that it is proved by a general proposition including both sets of cases, the unknown and the known? I contend for the former mode of expression. I hold it an abuse of language to say, that the proof that Socrates is mortal, is that all men are mortal. Turn it in what way we will, this seems to me to be asserting that a thing is the proof of itself. Whoever pronounces the words, All men are mortal, has affirmed that Socrates is mortal, though he may never have heard of Socrates; for since Socrates, whether known to be so or not, really is a man, he is included in the words, All men, and in every assertion of which they are the subject. If the reviewer does not see that there is a difficulty here, I can only advise him to reconsider the subject until he does: after which he will be a better judge of the success or failure of an attempt to remove the difficulty. That he had reflected very little on the point when he wrote his remarks, is shown by his oversight respecting the dictum de omni et nullo. He acknowledges that this maxim as commonly expressed—"Whatever is true of a class, is true of every thing included in the class," is a mere identical proposition, since the class is nothing but the things included in it. But he thinks this defect would be cured by wording the maxim thus—"Whatever is true of a class, is true of every thing which can be shown to be a member of the class:" as if a thing could "be shown" to be a member of the class without being one. If a class means the sum of all the things included in the class, the things which can "be shown" to be included in it are part of the sum, and the dictum is as much an identical proposition with respect to them as to the rest. One would almost imagine that, in the reviewer's opinion, things are not members of a class until they are called up publicly to take their place in it—that so long, in fact, as Socrates is not known to be a man, he is not a man, and any assertion which can be made concerning men does not at all regard him, nor is affected as to its truth or falsity by any thing in which he is concerned.

The difference between the reviewer's theory and mine may be thus stated. Both admit that when we say, All men are mortal, we make an assertion reaching beyond the sphere of our knowledge of individual cases; and that when a new individual, Socrates, is brought within the field of our knowledge by means of the minor premise, we learn that we have already made an assertion respecting Socrates without knowing it: our own general formula being, to that extent, for the first time interpreted to us. But according to the reviewer's theory, the smaller assertion is proved by the larger: while I contend, that both assertions are proved together, by the same evidence, namely, the grounds of experience on which the general assertion was made, and by which it must be justified.

The reviewer says, that if the major premise included the conclusion, "we should be able to affirm the conclusion without the intervention of the minor premise; but every one sees that that is impossible." A similar argument is urged by Mr. De Morgan (Formal Logic, p. 259): "The whole objection tacitly assumes the superfluity of the minor; that is, tacitly assumes we know Socrates (Mr. De Morgan says 'Plato,' but to prevent confusion I have kept to my own exemplum.) to be a man as soon as we know him to be Socrates." The objection would be well grounded if the assertion that the major premise includes the conclusion, meant that it individually specifies all it includes. As, however, the only indication it gives is a description by marks, we have still to compare any new individual with the marks; and to show that this comparison has been made, is the office of the minor. But since, by supposition, the new individual has the marks, whether we have ascertained him to have them or not; if we have affirmed the major premise, we have asserted him to be mortal. Now my position is that this assertion can not be a necessary part of the argument. It can not be a necessary condition of reasoning that we should begin by making an assertion, which is afterward to be employed in proving a part of itself. I can conceive only one way out of this difficulty, viz., that what really forms the proof is the other part of the assertion: the portion of it, the truth of which has been ascertained previously: and that the unproved part is bound up in one formula with the proved part in mere anticipation, and as a memorandum of the nature of the conclusions which we are prepared to prove.

With respect to the minor premise in its formal shape, the minor as it stands in the syllogism, predicating of Socrates a definite class name, I readily admit that it is no more a necessary part of reasoning than the major. When there is a major, doing its work by means of a class name, minors are needed to interpret it: but reasoning can be carried on without either the one or the other. They are not the conditions of reasoning, but a precaution against erroneous reasoning. The only minor premise necessary to reasoning in the example under consideration, is, Socrates is like A, B, C, and the other individuals who are known to have died. And this is the only universal type of that step in the reasoning process which is represented by the minor. Experience, however, of the uncertainty of this loose mode of inference, teaches the expediency of determining beforehand what kind of likeness to the cases observed, is necessary to bring an unobserved case within the same predicate; and the answer to this question is the major. The minor then identifies the precise kind of likeness possessed by Socrates, as being the kind required by the formula. Thus the syllogistic major and the syllogistic minor start into existence together, and are called forth by the same exigency. When we conclude from personal experience without referring to any record—to any general theorems, either written, or traditional, or mentally registered by ourselves as conclusions of our own drawing—we do not use, in our thoughts, either a major or a minor, such as the syllogism puts into words. When, however, we revise this rough inference from particulars to particulars, and substitute a careful one, the revision consists in selecting two syllogistic premises. But this neither alters nor adds to the evidence we had before; it only puts us in a better position for judging whether our inference from particulars to particulars is well grounded.

66 Infra, book iii., chap. ii.

67 Infra, book iii., ch. iv., 3, and elsewhere.

68 It is justly remarked by Professor Bain (Logic, ii., 134) that the word Hypothesis is here used in a somewhat peculiar sense. An hypothesis, in science, usually means a supposition not proved to be true, but surmised to be so, because if true it would account for certain known facts; and the final result of the speculation may be to prove its truth. The hypotheses spoken of in the text are of a different character; they are known not to be literally true, while as much of them as is true is not hypothetical, but certain. The two cases, however, resemble in the circumstance that in both we reason, not from a truth, but from an assumption, and the truth therefore of the conclusions is conditional, not categorical. This suffices to justify, in point of logical propriety, Stewart's use of the term. It is of course needful to bear in mind that the hypothetical element in the definitions of geometry is the assumption that what is very nearly true is exactly so. This unreal exactitude might be called a fiction, as properly as an hypothesis; but that appellation, still more than the other, would fail to point out the close relation which exists between the fictitious point or line and the points and lines of which we have experience.

69 Mechanical Euclid, pp. 149 et seqq.

70 We might, it is true, insert this property into the definition of parallel lines, framing the definition so as to require, both that when produced indefinitely they shall never meet, and also that any straight line which intersects one of them shall, if prolonged, meet the other. But by doing this we by no means get rid of the assumption; we are still obliged to take for granted the geometrical truth, that all straight lines in the same plane, which have the former of these properties, have also the latter. For if it were possible that they should not, that is, if any straight lines in the same plane, other than those which are parallel according to the definition, had the property of never meeting although indefinitely produced, the demonstrations of the subsequent portions of the theory of parallels could not be maintained.

71 Some persons find themselves prevented from believing that the axiom, Two straight lines can not inclose a space, could ever become known to us through experience, by a difficulty which may be stated as follows: If the straight lines spoken of are those contemplated in the definition—lines absolutely without breadth and absolutely straight—that such are incapable of inclosing a space is not proved by experience, for lines such as these do not present themselves in our experience. If, on the other hand, the lines meant are such straight lines as we do meet with in experience, lines straight enough for practical purposes, but in reality slightly zigzag, and with some, however trifling, breadth; as applied to these lines the axiom is not true, for two of them may, and sometimes do, inclose a small portion of space. In neither case, therefore, does experience prove the axiom.

Those who employ this argument to show that geometrical axioms can not be proved by induction, show themselves unfamiliar with a common and perfectly valid mode of inductive proof; proof by approximation. Though experience furnishes us with no lines so unimpeachably straight that two of them are incapable of inclosing the smallest space, it presents us with gradations of lines possessing less and less either of breadth or of flexure, of which series the straight line of the definition is the ideal limit. And observation shows that just as much, and as nearly, as the straight lines of experience approximate to having no breadth or flexure, so much and so nearly does the space-inclosing power of any two of them approach to zero. The inference that if they had no breadth or flexure at all, they would inclose no space at all, is a correct inductive inference from these facts, conformable to one of the four Inductive Methods hereinafter characterized, the Method of Concomitant Variations; of which the mathematical Doctrine of Limits presents the extreme case.

72 Whewell's History of Scientific Ideas, i., 140.

73 Dr. Whewell (Philosophy of Discovery, p. 289) thinks it unreasonable to contend that we know by experience, that our idea of a line exactly resembles a real line. "It does not appear," he says, "how we can compare our ideas with the realities, since we know the realities only by our ideas." We know the realities by our sensations. Dr. Whewell surely does not hold the "doctrine of perception by means of ideas," which Reid gave himself so much trouble to refute. If Dr. Whewell doubts whether we compare our ideas with the corresponding sensations, and assume that they resemble, let me ask on what evidence do we judge that a portrait of a person not present is like the original. Surely because it is like our idea, or mental image of the person, and because our idea is like the man himself.

Dr. Whewell also says, that it does not appear why this resemblance of ideas to the sensations of which they are copies, should be spoken of as if it were a peculiarity of one class of ideas, those of space. My reply is, that I do not so speak of it. The peculiarity I contend for is only one of degree. All our ideas of sensation of course resemble the corresponding sensations, but they do so with very different degrees of exactness and of reliability. No one, I presume, can recall in imagination a color or an odor with the same distinctness and accuracy with which almost every one can mentally reproduce an image of a straight line or a triangle. To the extent, however, of their capabilities of accuracy, our recollections of colors or of odors may serve as subjects of experimentation, as well as those of lines and spaces, and may yield conclusions which will be true of their external prototypes. A person in whom, either from natural gift or from cultivation, the impressions of color were peculiarly vivid and distinct, if asked which of two blue flowers was of the darkest tinge, though he might never have compared the two, or even looked at them together, might be able to give a confident answer on the faith of his distinct recollection of the colors; that is, he might examine his mental pictures, and find there a property of the outward objects. But in hardly any case except that of simple geometrical forms, could this be done by mankind generally, with a degree of assurance equal to that which is given by a contemplation of the objects themselves. Persons differ most widely in the precision of their recollection, even of forms: one person, when he has looked any one in the face for half a minute, can draw an accurate likeness of him from memory; another may have seen him every day for six months, and hardly know whether his nose is long or short. But every body has a perfectly distinct mental image of a straight line, a circle, or a rectangle. And every one concludes confidently from these mental images to the corresponding outward things. The truth is, that we may, and continually do, study nature in our recollections, when the objects themselves are absent; and in the case of geometrical forms we can perfectly, but in most other cases only imperfectly, trust our recollections.

74 Logic, i., 222.

75 Ibid., 226.

76 History of Scientific Ideas, i., 65-67.

77 Ibid., i., 60.

78 Ibid., 58, 59.

79 "If all mankind had spoken one language, we can not doubt that there would have been a powerful, perhaps a universal, school of philosophers, who would have believed in the inherent connection between names and things, who would have taken the sound man to be the mode of agitating the air which is essentially communicative of the ideas of reason, cookery, bipedality, etc."—De Morgan, Formal Logic, p. 246.

80 It would be difficult to name a man more remarkable at once for the greatness and the wide range of his mental accomplishments, than Leibnitz. Yet this eminent man gave as a reason for rejecting Newton's scheme of the solar system, that God could not make a body revolve round a distant centre, unless either by some impelling mechanism, or by miracle: "Tout ce qui n'est pas explicable," says he in a letter to the Abbe Conti, "par la nature des creatures, est miraculeux. Il ne suffit pas de dire: Dieu a fait une telle loi de nature; donc la chose est naturelle. Il faut que la loi soit executable par les natures des creatures. Si Dien donnait cette loi, par exemple, a un corps libre, de tourner a l'entour d'un certain centre, il faudrait ou qu'il y joignit d'autres corps qui par leur impulsion l'obligeassent de rester toujours dans son orbite circulaire, ou qu'il mit un ange a ses trousses, ou enfin il faudrait qu'il y concourut extraordinairement; car naturellement il s'ecartera par la tangente."—Works of Leibnitz, ed. Dutens, iii., 446.

81 Novum Organum Renovatum, pp. 32, 33.

82 History of Scientific Ideas, i., 264.

83 Ibid., i., 263.

84 Ibid., 240.

85 Hist. Scientific Ideas, ii., 25, 26.

86 Phil. of Disc., p. 339.

87 Phil. of Disc., p. 338.

88 Ibid., p. 463.

89 Phil. of Disc., pp. 472, 473.

90 The Quarterly Review for June, 1841, contained an article of great ability on Dr. Whewell's two great works (since acknowledged and reprinted in Sir John Herschel's Essays) which maintains, on the subject of axioms, the doctrine advanced in the text, that they are generalizations from experience, and supports that opinion by a line of argument strikingly coinciding with mine. When I state that the whole of the present chapter (except the last four pages, added in the fifth edition) was written before I had seen the article (the greater part, indeed, before it was published), it is not my object to occupy the reader's attention with a matter so unimportant as the degree of originality which may or may not belong to any portion of my own speculations, but to obtain for an opinion which is opposed to reigning doctrines, the recommendation derived from a striking concurrence of sentiment between two inquirers entirely independent of one another. I embrace the opportunity of citing from a writer of the extensive acquirements in physical and metaphysical knowledge and the capacity of systematic thought which the article evinces, passages so remarkably in unison with my own views as the following:

"The truths of geometry are summed up and embodied in its definitions and axioms.... Let us turn to the axioms, and what do we find? A string of propositions concerning magnitude in the abstract, which are equally true of space, time, force, number, and every other magnitude susceptible of aggregation and subdivision. Such propositions, where they are not mere definitions, as some of them are, carry their inductive origin on the face of their enunciation.... Those which declare that two straight lines can not inclose a space, and that two straight lines which cut one another can not both be parallel to a third, are in reality the only ones which express characteristic properties of space, and these it will be worth while to consider more nearly. Now the only clear notion we can form of straightness is uniformity of direction, for space in its ultimate analysis is nothing but an assemblage of distances and directions. And (not to dwell on the notion of continued contemplation, i.e., mental experience, as included in the very idea of uniformity; nor on that of transfer of the contemplating being from point to point, and of experience, during such transfer, of the homogeneity of the interval passed over) we can not even propose the proposition in an intelligible form to any one whose experience ever since he was born has not assured him of the fact. The unity of direction, or that we can not march from a given point by more than one path direct to the same object, is matter of practical experience long before it can by possibility become matter of abstract thought. We can not attempt mentally to exemplify the conditions of the assertion in an imaginary case opposed to it, without violating our habitual recollection of this experience, and defacing our mental picture of space as grounded on it. What but experience, we may ask, can possibly assure us of the homogeneity of the parts of distance, time, force, and measurable aggregates in general, on which the truth of the other axioms depends? As regards the latter axiom, after what has been said it must be clear that the very same course of remarks equally applies to its case, and that its truth is quite as much forced on the mind as that of the former by daily and hourly experience, ... including always, be it observed, in our notion of experience, that which is gained by contemplation of the inward picture which the mind forms to itself in any proposed case, or which it arbitrarily selects as an example—such picture, in virtue of the extreme simplicity of these primary relations, being called up by the imagination with as much vividness and clearness as could be done by any external impression, which is the only meaning we can attach to the word intuition, as applied to such relations."

And again, of the axioms of mechanics: "As we admit no such propositions, other than as truths inductively collected from observation, even in geometry itself, it can hardly be expected that, in a science of obviously contingent relations, we should acquiesce in a contrary view. Let us take one of these axioms and examine its evidence: for instance, that equal forces perpendicularly applied at the opposite ends of equal arms of a straight lever will balance each other. What but experience, we may ask, in the first place, can possibly inform us that a force so applied will have any tendency to turn the lever on its centre at all? or that force can be so transmitted along a rigid line perpendicular to its direction, as to act elsewhere in space than along its own line of action? Surely this is so far from being self-evident that it has even a paradoxical appearance, which is only to be removed by giving our lever thickness, material composition, and molecular powers. Again, we conclude, that the two forces, being equal and applied under precisely similar circumstances, must, if they exert any effort at all to turn the lever, exert equal and opposite efforts: but what a priori reasoning can possibly assure us that they do act under precisely similar circumstances? that points which differ in place are similarly circumstanced as regards the exertion of force? that universal space may not have relations to universal force—or, at all events, that the organization of the material universe may not be such as to place that portion of space occupied by it in such relations to the forces exerted in it, as may invalidate the absolute similarity of circumstances assumed? Or we may argue, what have we to do with the notion of angular movement in the lever at all? The case is one of rest, and of quiescent destruction of force by force. Now how is this destruction effected? Assuredly by the counter-pressure which supports the fulcrum. But would not this destruction equally arise, and by the same amount of counteracting force, if each force simply pressed its own half of the lever against the fulcrum? And what can assure us that it is not so, except removal of one or other force, and consequent tilting of the lever? The other fundamental axiom of statics, that the pressure on the point of support is the sum of the weights ... is merely a scientific transformation and more refined mode of stating a coarse and obvious result of universal experience, viz., that the weight of a rigid body is the same, handle it or suspend it in what position or by what point we will, and that whatever sustains it sustains its total weight. Assuredly, as Mr. Whewell justly remarks, 'No one probably ever made a trial for the purpose of showing that the pressure on the support is equal to the sum of the weights.' ... But it is precisely because in every action of his life from earliest infancy he has been continually making the trial, and seeing it made by every other living being about him, that he never dreams of staking its result on one additional attempt made with scientific accuracy. This would be as if a man should resolve to decide by experiment whether his eyes were useful for the purpose of seeing, by hermetically sealing himself up for half an hour in a metal case."

On the "paradox of universal propositions obtained by experience," the same writer says: "If there be necessary and universal truths expressible in propositions of axiomatic simplicity and obviousness, and having for their subject-matter the elements of all our experience and all our knowledge, surely these are the truths which, if experience suggest to us any truths at all, it ought to suggest most readily, clearly, and unceasingly. If it were a truth, universal and necessary, that a net is spread over the whole surface of every planetary globe, we should not travel far on our own without getting entangled in its meshes, and making the necessity of some means of extrication an axiom of locomotion.... There is, therefore, nothing paradoxical, but the reverse, in our being led by observation to a recognition of such truths, as general propositions, co-extensive at least with all human experience. That they pervade all the objects of experience, must insure their continual suggestion by experience; that they are true, must insure that consistency of suggestion, that iteration of uncontradicted assertion, which commands implicit assent, and removes all occasion of exception; that they are simple, and admit of no misunderstanding, must secure their admission by every mind."

"A truth, necessary and universal, relative to any object of our knowledge, must verify itself in every instance where that object is before our contemplation, and if at the same time it be simple and intelligible, its verification must be obvious. The sentiment of such a truth can not, therefore, but be present to our minds whenever that object is contemplated, and must therefore make a part of the mental picture or idea of that object which we may on any occasion summon before our imagination.... All propositions, therefore, become not only untrue but inconceivable, if ... axioms be violated in their enunciation."

Another eminent mathematician had previously sanctioned by his authority the doctrine of the origin of geometrical axioms in experience. "Geometry is thus founded likewise on observation; but of a kind so familiar and obvious, that the primary notions which it furnishes might seem intuitive."—Sir John Leslie, quoted by Sir William Hamilton, Discourses, etc., p. 272.

91 Principles of Psychology.

92 Mr. Spencer is mistaken in supposing me to claim any peculiar "necessity" for this axiom as compared with others. I have corrected the expressions which led him into that misapprehension of my meaning.

93 Mr. Spencer, in recently returning to the subject (Principles of Psychology, new edition, chap. xii.: "The Test of Relative Validity"), makes two answers to the preceding remarks. One is:

"Were an argument formed by repeating the same proposition over and over again, it would be true that any intrinsic fallibility of the postulate would not make the conclusion more untrustworthy than the first step. But an argument consists of unlike propositions. Now, since Mr. Mill's criticism on the Universal Postulate is that in some cases, which he names, it has proved to be an untrustworthy test; it follows that in any argument consisting of heterogeneous propositions, there is a risk, increasing as the number of propositions increases, that some one of them belongs to this class of cases, and is wrongly accepted because of the inconceivableness of its negation."

No doubt: but this supposes new premises to be taken in. The point we are discussing is the fallibility not of the premises, but of the reasoning, as distinguished from the premises. Now the validity of the reasoning depends always upon the same axiom, repeated (in thought) "over and over again," viz., that whatever has a mark, has what it is a mark of. Even, therefore, on the assumption that this axiom rests ultimately on the Universal Postulate, and that, the Postulate not being wholly trustworthy, the axiom may be one of the cases of its failure; all the risk there is of this is incurred at the very first step of the reasoning, and is not added to, however long may be the series of subsequent steps.

I am here arguing, of course, from Mr. Spencer's point of view. From my own the case is still clearer; for, in my view, the truth that whatever has a mark has what it is a mark of, is wholly trustworthy, and derives none of its evidence from so very untrustworthy a test as the inconceivability of the negative.

Mr. Spencer's second answer is valid up to a certain point; it is, that every prolongation of the process involves additional chances of casual error, from carelessness in the reasoning operation. This is an important consideration in the private speculations of an individual reasoner; and even with respect to mankind at large, it must be admitted that, though mere oversights in the syllogistic process, like errors of addition in an account, are special to the individual, and seldom escape detection, confusion of thought produced (for example) by ambiguous terms has led whole nations or ages to accept fallacious reasoning as valid. But this very fact points to causes of error so much more dangerous than the mere length of the process, as quite to vitiate the doctrine that the "test of the relative validities of conflicting conclusions" is the number of times the fundamental postulate is involved. On the contrary, the subjects on which the trains of reasoning are longest, and the assumption, therefore, oftenest repeated, are in general those which are best fortified against the really formidable causes of fallacy; as in the example already given of mathematics.

94 Mr. Spencer makes a distinction between conceiving myself looking into darkness, and conceiving that I am then and there looking into darkness. To me it seems that this change of the expression to the form I am, just marks the transition from conception to belief, and that the phrase "to conceive that I am," or "that any thing is," is not consistent with using the word conceive in its rigorous sense.

95 I have myself accepted the contest, and fought it out on this battle-ground, in the eleventh chapter of An Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy.

96 Chap. xi.

97 In one of the three cases, Mr. Spencer, to my no small surprise, thinks that the belief of mankind "can not be rightly said to have undergone" the change I allege. Mr. Spencer himself still thinks we are unable to conceive gravitation acting through empty space. "If an astronomer avowed that he could conceive gravitative force as exercised through space absolutely void, my private opinion would be that he mistook the nature of conception. Conception implies representation. Here the elements of the representation are the two bodies and an agency by which either affects the other. To conceive this agency is to represent it in some terms derived from our experiences—that is, from our sensations. As this agency gives us no sensations, we are obliged (if we try to conceive it) to use symbols idealized from our sensations—imponderable units forming a medium."

If Mr. Spencer means that the action of gravitation gives us no sensations, the assertion is one than which I have not seen, in the writings of philosophers, many more startling. What other sensation do we need than the sensation of one body moving toward another? "The elements of the representation" are not two bodies and an "agency," but two bodies and an effect; viz., the fact of their approaching one another. If we are able to conceive a vacuum, is there any difficulty in conceiving a body falling to the earth through it?

98 Discussions, etc., 2d ed., p. 624.

99 Professor Bain (Logic, i., 16) identifies the Principle of Contradiction with his Law of Relativity, viz., that "every thing that can be thought of, every affirmation that can be made, has an opposite or counter notion or affirmation;" a proposition which is one of the general results of the whole body of human experience. For further considerations respecting the axioms of Contradiction and Excluded Middle, see the twenty-first chapter of An Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy.

100 Dr. Whewell thinks it improper to apply the term Induction to any operation not terminating in the establishment of a general truth. Induction, he says (Philosophy of Discovery, p. 245), "is not the same thing as experience and observation. Induction is experience or observation consciously looked at in a general form. This consciousness and generality are necessary parts of that knowledge which is science." And he objects (p. 241) to the mode in which the word Induction is employed in this work, as an undue extension of that term "not only to the cases in which the general induction is consciously applied to a particular instance, but to the cases in which the particular instance is dealt with by means of experience in that rude sense in which experience can be asserted of brutes, and in which of course we can in no way imagine that the law is possessed or understood as a general proposition." This use of the term he deems a "confusion of knowledge with practical tendencies."

I disclaim, as strongly as Dr. Whewell can do, the application of such terms as induction, inference, or reasoning, to operations performed by mere instinct, that is, from an animal impulse, without the exertion of any intelligence. But I perceive no ground for confining the use of those terms to cases in which the inference is drawn in the forms and with the precautions required by scientific propriety. To the idea of Science, an express recognition and distinct apprehension of general laws as such, is essential: but nine-tenths of the conclusions drawn from experience in the course of practical life, are drawn without any such recognition: they are direct inferences from known cases, to a case supposed to be similar. I have endeavored to show that this is not only as legitimate an operation, but substantially the same operation, as that of ascending from known cases to a general proposition; except that the latter process has one great security for correctness which the former does not possess. In science, the inference must necessarily pass through the intermediate stage of a general proposition, because Science wants its conclusions for record, and not for instantaneous use. But the inferences drawn for the guidance of practical affairs, by persons who would often be quite incapable of expressing in unexceptionable terms the corresponding generalizations, may and frequently do exhibit intellectual powers quite equal to any which have ever been displayed in science; and if these inferences are not inductive, what are they? The limitation imposed on the term by Dr. Whewell seems perfectly arbitrary; neither justified by any fundamental distinction between what he includes and what he desires to exclude, nor sanctioned by usage, at least from the time of Reid and Stewart, the principal legislators (as far as the English language is concerned) of modern metaphysical terminology.

101 Supra, p. 145.

102 Novum Organum Renovatum, pp. 72, 73.

103 Novum Organum Renovatum, p. 32.

104 Cours de Philosophie Positive, vol. ii., p. 202.

105 Dr. Whewell, in his reply, contests the distinction here drawn, and maintains, that not only different descriptions, but different explanations of a phenomenon, may all be true. Of the three theories respecting the motions of the heavenly bodies, he says (Philosophy of Discovery, p. 231): "Undoubtedly all these explanations may be true and consistent with each other, and would be so if each had been followed out so as to show in what manner it could be made consistent with the facts. And this was, in reality, in a great measure done. The doctrine that the heavenly bodies were moved by vortices was successfully modified, so that it came to coincide in its results with the doctrine of an inverse-quadratic centripetal force.... When this point was reached, the vortex was merely a machinery, well or ill devised, for producing such a centripetal force, and therefore did not contradict the doctrine of a centripetal force. Newton himself does not appear to have been averse to explaining gravity by impulse. So little is it true that if one theory be true the other must be false. The attempt to explain gravity by the impulse of streams of particles flowing through the universe in all directions, which I have mentioned in the Philosophy, is so far from being inconsistent with the Newtonian theory, that it is founded entirely upon it. And even with regard to the doctrine, that the heavenly bodies move by an inherent virtue; if this doctrine had been maintained in any such way that it was brought to agree with the facts, the inherent virtue must have had its laws determined; and then it would have been found that the virtue had a reference to the central body; and so, the 'inherent virtue' must have coincided in its effect with the Newtonian force; and then, the two explanations would agree, except so far as the word 'inherent' was concerned. And if such a part of an earlier theory as this word inherent indicates, is found to be untenable, it is of course rejected in the transition to later and more exact theories, in Inductions of this kind, as well as in what Mr. Mill calls Descriptions. There is, therefore, still no validity discoverable in the distinction which Mr. Mill attempts to draw between descriptions like Kepler's law of elliptical orbits, and other examples of induction."

If the doctrine of vortices had meant, not that vortices existed, but only that the planets moved in the same manner as if they had been whirled by vortices; if the hypothesis had been merely a mode of representing the facts, not an attempt to account for them; if, in short, it had been only a Description; it would, no doubt, have been reconcilable with the Newtonian theory. The vortices, however, were not a mere aid to conceiving the motions of the planets, but a supposed physical agent, actively impelling them; a material fact, which might be true or not true, but could not be both true and not true. According to Descartes's theory it was true, according to Newton's it was not true. Dr. Whewell probably means that since the phrases, centripetal and projectile force, do not declare the nature but only the direction of the forces, the Newtonian theory does not absolutely contradict any hypothesis which may be framed respecting the mode of their production. The Newtonian theory, regarded as a mere description of the planetary motions, does not; but the Newtonian theory as an explanation of them does. For in what does the explanation consist? In ascribing those motions to a general law which obtains between all particles of matter, and in identifying this with the law by which bodies fall to the ground. If the planets are kept in their orbits by a force which draws the particles composing them toward every other particle of matter in the solar system, they are not kept in those orbits by the impulsive force of certain streams of matter which whirl them round. The one explanation absolutely excludes the other. Either the planets are not moved by vortices, or they do not move by a law common to all matter. It is impossible that both opinions can be true. As well might it be said that there is no contradiction between the assertions, that a man died because somebody killed him, and that he died a natural death.

So, again, the theory that the planets move by a virtue inherent in their celestial nature, is incompatible with either of the two others: either that of their being moved by vortices, or that which regards them as moving by a property which they have in common with the earth and all terrestrial bodies. Dr. Whewell says that the theory of an inherent virtue agrees with Newton's when the word inherent is left out, which of course it would be (he says) if "found to be untenable." But leave that out, and where is the theory? The word inherent is the theory. When that is omitted, there remains nothing except that the heavenly bodies move "by a virtue," i.e., by a power of some sort; or by virtue of their celestial nature, which directly contradicts the doctrine that terrestrial bodies fall by the same law.

If Dr. Whewell is not yet satisfied, any other subject will serve equally well to test his doctrine. He will hardly say that there is no contradiction between the emission theory and the undulatory theory of light; or that there can be both one and two electricities; or that the hypothesis of the production of the higher organic forms by development from the lower, and the supposition of separate and successive acts of creation, are quite reconcilable; or that the theory that volcanoes are fed from a central fire, and the doctrines which ascribe them to chemical action at a comparatively small depth below the earth's surface, are consistent with one another, and all true as far as they go.

If different explanations of the same fact can not both be true, still less, surely, can different predictions. Dr. Whewell quarrels (on what ground it is not necessary here to consider) with the example I had chosen on this point, and thinks an objection to an illustration a sufficient answer to a theory. Examples not liable to his objection are easily found, if the proposition that conflicting predictions can not both be true, can be made clearer by many examples. Suppose the phenomenon to be a newly-discovered comet, and that one astronomer predicts its return once in every 300 years—another once in every 400: can they both be right? When Columbus predicted that by sailing constantly westward he should in time return to the point from which he set out, while others asserted that he could never do so except by turning back, were both he and his opponents true prophets? Were the predictions which foretold the wonders of railways and steamships, and those which averred that the Atlantic could never be crossed by steam navigation, nor a railway train propelled ten miles an hour, both (in Dr. Whewell's words) "true, and consistent with one another?"

Dr. Whewell sees no distinction between holding contradictory opinions on a question of fact, and merely employing different analogies to facilitate the conception of the same fact. The case of different Inductions belongs to the former class, that of different Descriptions to the latter.

106 Phil. of Discov., p. 256.

107 Essays on the Pursuit of Truth.

108 In the first edition a note was appended at this place, containing some criticism on Archbishop Whately's mode of conceiving the relation between Syllogism and Induction. In a subsequent issue of his Logic, the Archbishop made a reply to the criticism, which induced me to cancel part of the note, incorporating the remainder in the text. In a still later edition, the Archbishop observes in a tone of something like disapprobation, that the objections, "doubtless from their being fully answered and found untenable, were silently suppressed," and that hence he might appear to some of his readers to be combating a shadow. On this latter point, the Archbishop need give himself no uneasiness. His readers, I make bold to say, will fully credit his mere affirmation that the objections have actually been made.

But as he seems to think that what he terms the suppression of the objections ought not to have been made "silently," I now break that silence, and state exactly what it is that I suppressed, and why. I suppressed that alone which might be regarded as personal criticism on the Archbishop. I had imputed to him the having omitted to ask himself a particular question. I found that he had asked himself the question, and could give it an answer consistent with his own theory. I had also, within the compass of a parenthesis, hazarded some remarks on certain general characteristics of Archbishop Whately as a philosopher. These remarks, though their tone, I hope, was neither disrespectful nor arrogant, I felt, on reconsideration, that I was hardly entitled to make; least of all, when the instance which I had regarded as an illustration of them, failed, as I now saw, to bear them out. The real matter at the bottom of the whole dispute, the different view we take of the function of the major premise, remains exactly where it was; and so far was I from thinking that my opinion had been fully "answered" and was "untenable," that in the same edition in which I canceled the note, I not only enforced the opinion by further arguments, but answered (though without naming him) those of the Archbishop.

For not having made this statement before, I do not think it needful to apologize. It would be attaching very great importance to one's smallest sayings, to think a formal retractation requisite every time that one falls into an error. Nor is Archbishop Whately's well-earned fame of so tender a quality as to require that in withdrawing a slight criticism on him I should have been bound to offer a public amende for having made it.

109 But though it is a condition of the validity of every induction that there be uniformity in the course of nature, it is not a necessary condition that the uniformity should pervade all nature. It is enough that it pervades the particular class of phenomena to which the induction relates. An induction concerning the motions of the planets, or the properties of the magnet, would not be vitiated though we were to suppose that wind and weather are the sport of chance, provided it be assumed that astronomical and magnetic phenomena are under the dominion of general laws. Otherwise the early experience of mankind would have rested on a very weak foundation; for in the infancy of science it could not be known that all phenomena are regular in their course.

Neither would it be correct to say that every induction by which we infer any truth, implies the general fact of uniformity as foreknown, even in reference to the kind of phenomena concerned. It implies, either that this general fact is already known, or that we may now know it: as the conclusion, the Duke of Wellington is mortal, drawn from the instances A, B, and C, implies either that we have already concluded all men to be mortal, or that we are now entitled to do so from the same evidence. A vast amount of confusion and paralogism respecting the grounds of Induction would be dispelled by keeping in view these simple considerations.

110 Infra, chap. xxi.

111 Infra, chap. xxi., xxii.

112 In strictness, wherever the present constitution of space exists; which we have ample reason to believe that it does in the region of the fixed stars.

113 Dr. Whewell (Phil. of Discov., p. 246) will not allow these and similar erroneous judgments to be called inductions; inasmuch as such superstitious fancies "were not collected from the facts by seeking a law of their occurrence, but were suggested by an imagination of the anger of superior powers, shown by such deviations from the ordinary course of nature." I conceive the question to be, not in what manner these notions were at first suggested, but by what evidence they have, from time to time, been supposed to be substantiated. If the believers in these erroneous opinions had been put on their defense, they would have referred to experience: to the comet which preceded the assassination of Julius Caesar, or to oracles and other prophecies known to have been fulfilled. It is by such appeals to facts that all analogous superstitions, even in our day, attempt to justify themselves; the supposed evidence of experience is necessary to their hold on the mind. I quite admit that the influence of such coincidences would not be what it is, if strength were not lent to it by an antecedent presumption; but this is not peculiar to such cases; preconceived notions of probability form part of the explanation of many other cases of belief on insufficient evidence. The a priori prejudice does not prevent the erroneous opinion from being sincerely regarded as a legitimate conclusion from experience; though it improperly predisposes the mind to that interpretation of experience.

Thus much in defense of the sort of examples objected to. But it would be easy to produce instances, equally adapted to the purpose, and in which no antecedent prejudice is at all concerned. "For many ages," says Archbishop Whately, "all farmers and gardeners were firmly convinced—and convinced of their knowing it by experience—that the crops would never turn out good unless the seed were sown during the increase of the moon." This was induction, but bad induction; just as a vicious syllogism is reasoning, but bad reasoning.