Transcriber’s notes:

The text of this book has been preserved as closely as practicable to its original form. However, the author used some unusual symbols, and I have taken the liberty of using Unicode characters with similar appearance (ꖌ ᔕ) as substitutes, disregarding their official meaning and aware that they might not display on all devices. An archaic symbol used by the author to indicate the mathematical ‘factorial’ function has been replaced by the modern equivalent, viz. ! Unusual placements of some sub- and superscripted symbols remain as in the original text.

Inconsistencies of punctuation have been corrected silently, but inconsistent spellings such as Roemer, Römer, Rœmer have not been altered. A list of [corrected spellings] is appended at the end of the book.

>Footnotes have been renumbered consecutively and relocated to the end of the book. A missing footnote marker has been inserted on p.751 after tracking down the original document. A missing negative symbol has been added to an exponent in a formula on p.327.

There is a misleading calculation on p.194 and the table that follows, regarding progressive powers of two: ((2²)²)² is equivalent to (16)² which equals 256 not 65,356 as stated, but 2¹⁶ does equal 65,356.

[sic] has been inserted on p.179 alongside a statement that the alphabet contains 24 letters; however, the statement may well be correct given that it was written in 1704 by a Flemish author and the language is not specified.

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.

THE PRINCIPLES OF SCIENCE.

THE LOGICAL MACHINE.

THE PRINCIPLES OF SCIENCE: A TREATISE ON LOGIC AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD.

BY

W. STANLEY JEVONS,

LL.D. (EDINB.), M.A. (LOND.), F.R.S.

London:

MACMILLAN AND CO.

1883.

The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved.

LONDON:
R. Clay, Sons, & Taylor, Printers,
BREAD STREET HILL.

Stereotyped Edition.

PREFACE
TO THE FIRST EDITION.

It may be truly asserted that the rapid progress of the physical sciences during the last three centuries has not been accompanied by a corresponding advance in the theory of reasoning. Physicists speak familiarly of Scientific Method, but they could not readily describe what they mean by that expression. Profoundly engaged in the study of particular classes of natural phenomena, they are usually too much engrossed in the immense and ever-accumulating details of their special sciences to generalise upon the methods of reasoning which they unconsciously employ. Yet few will deny that these methods of reasoning ought to be studied, especially by those who endeavour to introduce scientific order into less successful and methodical branches of knowledge.

The application of Scientific Method cannot be restricted to the sphere of lifeless objects. We must sooner or later have strict sciences of those mental and social phenomena, which, if comparison be possible, are of more interest to us than purely material phenomena. But it is the proper course of reasoning to proceed from the known to the unknown—from the evident to the obscure—from the material and palpable to the subtle and refined. The physical sciences may therefore be properly made the practice-ground of the reasoning powers, because they furnish us with a great body-of precise and successful investigations. In these sciences we meet with happy instances of unquestionable deductive reasoning, of extensive generalisation, of happy prediction, of satisfactory verification, of nice calculation of probabilities. We can note how the slightest analogical clue has been followed up to a glorious discovery, how a rash generalisation has at length been exposed, or a conclusive experimentum crucis has decided the long-continued strife between two rival theories.

In following out my design of detecting the general methods of inductive investigation, I have found that the more elaborate and interesting processes of quantitative induction have their necessary foundation in the simpler science of Formal Logic. The earlier, and probably by far the least attractive part of this work, consists, therefore, in a statement of the so-called Fundamental Laws of Thought, and of the all-important Principle of Substitution, of which, as I think, all reasoning is a development. The whole procedure of inductive inquiry, in its most complex cases, is foreshadowed in the combinational view of Logic, which arises directly from these fundamental principles. Incidentally I have described the mechanical arrangements by which the use of the important form called the Logical Alphabet, and the whole working of the combinational system of Formal Logic, may be rendered evident to the eye, and easy to the mind and hand.

The study both of Formal Logic and of the Theory of Probabilities has led me to adopt the opinion that there is no such thing as a distinct method of induction as contrasted with deduction, but that induction is simply an inverse employment of deduction. Within the last century a reaction has been setting in against the purely empirical procedure of Francis Bacon, and physicists have learnt to advocate the use of hypotheses. I take the extreme view of holding that Francis Bacon, although he correctly insisted upon constant reference to experience, had no correct notions as to the logical method by which from particular facts we educe laws of nature. I endeavour to show that hypothetical anticipation of nature is an essential part of inductive inquiry, and that it is the Newtonian method of deductive reasoning combined with elaborate experimental verification, which has led to all the great triumphs of scientific research.

In attempting to give an explanation of this view of Scientific Method, I have first to show that the sciences of number and quantity repose upon and spring from the simpler and more general science of Logic. The Theory of Probability, which enables us to estimate and calculate quantities of knowledge, is then described, and especial attention is drawn to the Inverse Method of Probabilities, which involves, as I conceive, the true principle of inductive procedure. No inductive conclusions are more than probable, and I adopt the opinion that the theory of probability is an essential part of logical method, so that the logical value of every inductive result must be determined consciously or unconsciously, according to the principles of the inverse method of probability.

The phenomena of nature are commonly manifested in quantities of time, space, force, energy, &c., and the observation, measurement, and analysis of the various quantitative conditions or results involved, even in a simple experiment, demand much employment of systematic procedure. I devote a book, therefore, to a simple and general description of the devices by which exact measurement is effected, errors eliminated, a probable mean result attained, and the probable error of that mean ascertained. I then proceed to the principal, and probably the most interesting, subject of the book, illustrating successively the conditions and precautions requisite for accurate observation, for successful experiment, and for the sure detection of the quantitative laws of nature. As it is impossible to comprehend aright the value of quantitative laws without constantly bearing in mind the degree of quantitative approximation to the truth probably attained, I have devoted a special chapter to the Theory of Approximation, and however imperfectly I may have treated this subject, I must look upon it as a very essential part of a work on Scientific Method.

It then remains to illustrate the sound use of hypothesis, to distinguish between the portions of knowledge which we owe to empirical observation, to accidental discovery, or to scientific prediction. Interesting questions arise concerning the accordance of quantitative theories and experiments, and I point out how the successive verification of an hypothesis by distinct methods of experiment yields conclusions approximating to but never attaining certainty. Additional illustrations of the general procedure of inductive investigations are given in a chapter on the Character of the Experimentalist, in which I endeavour to show, moreover, that the inverse use of deduction was really the logical method of such great masters of experimental inquiry as Newton, Huyghens, and Faraday.

In treating Generalisation and Analogy, I consider the precautions requisite in inferring from one case to another, or from one part of the universe to another part; the validity of all such inferences resting ultimately upon the inverse method of probabilities. The treatment of Exceptional Phenomena appeared to afford an interesting subject for a further chapter illustrating the various modes in which an outstanding fact may eventually be explained. The formal part of the book closes with the subject of Classification, which is, however, very inadequately treated. I have, in fact, almost restricted myself to showing that all classification is fundamentally carried out upon the principles of Formal Logic and the Logical Alphabet described at the outset.

In certain concluding remarks I have expressed the conviction which the study of Logic has by degrees forced upon my mind, that serious misconceptions are entertained by some scientific men as to the logical value of our knowledge of nature. We have heard much of what has been aptly called the Reign of Law, and the necessity and uniformity of natural forces has been not uncommonly interpreted as involving the non-existence of an intelligent and benevolent Power, capable of interfering with the course of natural events. Fears have been expressed that the progress of Scientific Method must therefore result in dissipating the fondest beliefs of the human heart. Even the ‘Utility of Religion’ is seriously proposed as a subject of discussion. It seemed to be not out of place in a work on Scientific Method to allude to the ultimate results and limits of that method. I fear that I have very imperfectly succeeded in expressing my strong conviction that before a rigorous logical scrutiny the Reign of Law will prove to be an unverified hypothesis, the Uniformity of Nature an ambiguous expression, the certainty of our scientific inferences to a great extent a delusion. The value of science is of course very high, while the conclusions are kept well within the limits of the data on which they are founded, but it is pointed out that our experience is of the most limited character compared with what there is to learn, while our mental powers seem to fall infinitely short of the task of comprehending and explaining fully the nature of any one object. I draw the conclusion that we must interpret the results of Scientific Method in an affirmative sense only. Ours must be a truly positive philosophy, not that false negative philosophy which, building on a few material facts, presumes to assert that it has compassed the bounds of existence, while it nevertheless ignores the most unquestionable phenomena of the human mind and feelings.

It is approximately certain that in freely employing illustrations drawn from many different sciences, I have frequently fallen into errors of detail. In this respect I must throw myself upon the indulgence of the reader, who will bear in mind, as I hope, that the scientific facts are generally mentioned purely for the purpose of illustration, so that inaccuracies of detail will not in the majority of cases affect the truth of the general principles illustrated.

December 15, 1873.

PREFACE
TO THE SECOND EDITION.

Few alterations of importance have been made in preparing this second edition. Nevertheless, advantage has been taken of the opportunity to revise very carefully both the language and the matter of the book. Correspondents and critics having pointed out inaccuracies of more or less importance in the first edition, suitable corrections and emendations have been made. I am under obligations to Mr. C. J. Monro, M.A., of Barnet, and to Mr. W. H. Brewer, M.A., one of Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Schools, for numerous corrections.

Among several additions which have been made to the text, I may mention the abstract (p. [143]) of Professor Clifford’s remarkable investigation into the number of types of compound statement involving four classes of objects. This inquiry carries forward the inverse logical problem described in the preceding sections. Again, the need of some better logical method than the old Barbara Celarent, &c., is strikingly shown by Mr. Venn’s logical problem, described at p. [90]. A great number of candidates in logic and philosophy were tested by Mr. Venn with this problem, which, though simple in reality, was solved by very few of those who were ignorant of Boole’s Logic. Other evidence could be adduced by Mr. Venn of the need for some better means of logical training. To enable the logical student to test his skill in the solution of inductive logical problems, I have given (p. [127]) a series of ten problems graduated in difficulty.

To prevent misapprehension, it should be mentioned that, throughout this edition, I have substituted the name Logical Alphabet for Logical Abecedarium, the name applied in the first edition to the exhaustive series of logical combinations represented in terms of A, B, C, D (p. [94]). It was objected by some readers that Abecedarium is a long and unfamiliar name.

To the chapter on Units and Standards of Measurement, I have added two sections, one (p. [325]) containing a brief statement of the Theory of Dimensions, and the other (p. [319]) discussing Professor Clerk Maxwell’s very original suggestion of a Natural System of Standards for the measurement of space and time, depending upon the length and rapidity of waves of light.

In my description of the Logical Machine in the Philosophical Transactions (vol. 160, p. 498), I said—“It is rarely indeed that any invention is made without some anticipation being sooner or later discovered; but up to the present time I am totally unaware of even a single previous attempt to devise or construct a machine which should perform the operations of logical inference; and it is only, I believe, in the satirical writings of Swift that an allusion to an actual reasoning machine is to be found.” Before the paper was printed, however, I was able to refer (p. 518) to the ingenious designs of the late Mr. Alfred Smee as attempts to represent thought mechanically. Mr. Smee’s machines indeed were never constructed, and, if constructed, would not have performed actual logical inference. It has now just come to light, however, that the celebrated Lord Stanhope actually did construct a mechanical device, capable of representing syllogistic inferences in a concrete form. It appears that logic was one of the favourite studies of this truly original and ingenious nobleman. There remain fragments of a logical work, printed by the Earl at his own press, which show that he had arrived, before the year 1800, at the principle of the quantified predicate. He puts forward this principle in the most explicit manner, and proposes to employ it throughout his syllogistic system. Moreover, he converts negative propositions into affirmative ones, and represents these by means of the copula “is identic with.” Thus he anticipated, probably by the force of his own unaided insight, the main points of the logical method originated in the works of George Bentham and George Boole, and developed in this work. Stanhope, indeed, has no claim to priority of discovery, because he seems never to have published his logical writings, although they were put into print. There is no trace of them in the British Museum Library, nor in any other library or logical work, so far as I am aware. Both the papers and the logical contrivance have been placed by the present Earl Stanhope in the hands of the Rev. Robert Harley, F.R.S., who will, I hope, soon publish a description of them.‍[1]

By the kindness of Mr. Harley, I have been able to examine Stanhope’s logical contrivance, called by him the Demonstrator. It consists of a square piece of bay-wood with a square depression in the centre, across which two slides can be pushed, one being a piece of red glass, and the other consisting of wood coloured gray. The extent to which each of these slides is pushed in is indicated by scales and figures along the edges of the aperture, and the simple rule of inference adopted by Stanhope is: “To the gray add the red and subtract the holon,” meaning by holon (ὅλον) the whole width of the aperture. This rule of inference is a curious anticipation of De Morgan’s numerically definite syllogism (see below, p. [168]), and of inferences founded on what Hamilton called “Ultra-total distribution.” Another curious point about Stanhope’s device is, that one slide can be drawn out and pushed in again at right angles to the other, and the overlapping part of the slides then represents the probability of a conclusion, derived from two premises of which the probabilities are respectively represented by the projecting parts of the slides. Thus it appears that Stanhope had studied the logic of probability as well as that of certainty, here again anticipating, however obscurely, the recent progress of logical science. It will be seen, however, that between Stanhope’s Demonstrator and my Logical Machine there is no resemblance beyond the fact that they both perform logical inference.

In the first edition I inserted a section (vol. i. p. 25), on “Anticipations of the Principle of Substitution,” and I have reprinted that section unchanged in this edition (p. [21]). I remark therein that, “In such a subject as logic it is hardly possible to put forth any opinions which have not been in some degree previously entertained. The germ at least of every doctrine will be found in earlier writings, and novelty must arise chiefly in the mode of harmonising and developing ideas.” I point out, as Professor T. M. Lindsay had previously done, that Beneke had employed the name and principle of substitution, and that doctrines closely approximating to substitution were stated by the Port Royal Logicians more than 200 years ago.

I have not been at all surprised to learn, however, that other logicians have more or less distinctly stated this principle of substitution during the last two centuries. As my friend and successor at Owens College, Professor Adamson, has discovered, this principle can be traced back to no less a philosopher than Leibnitz.

The remarkable tract of Leibnitz,‍[2] entitled “Non inelegans Specimen Demonstrandi in Abstractis,” commences at once with a definition corresponding to the principle:‍—

“Eadem sunt quorum unum potest substitui alteri salva veritate. Si sint A et B, et A ingrediatur aliquam propositionem veram, et ibi in aliquo loco ipsius A pro ipso substituendo B fiat nova propositio æque itidem vera, idque semper succedat in quacunque tali propositione, A et B dicuntur esse eadem; et contra, si eadem sint A et B, procedet substitutio quam dixi.”

Leibnitz, then, explicitly adopts the principle of substitution, but he puts it in the form of a definition, saying that those things are the same which can be substituted one for the other, without affecting the truth of the proposition. It is only after having thus tested the sameness of things that we can turn round and say that A and B, being the same, may be substituted one for the other. It would seem as if we were here in a vicious circle; for we are not allowed to substitute A for B, unless we have ascertained by trial that the result is a true proposition. The difficulty does not seem to be removed by Leibnitz’ proviso, “idque semper succedat in quacunque tali propositione.” How can we learn that because A and B may be mutually substituted in some propositions, they may therefore be substituted in others; and what is the criterion of likeness of propositions expressed in the word “tali”? Whether the principle of substitution is to be regarded as a postulate, an axiom, or a definition, is just one of those fundamental questions which it seems impossible to settle in the present position of philosophy, but this uncertainty will not prevent our making a considerable step in logical science.

Leibnitz proceeds to establish in the form of a theorem what is usually taken as an axiom, thus (Opera, p. 95): “Theorema I. Quæ sunt eadem uni tertio, eadem sunt inter se. Si A ∝ B et B ∝ C, erit A ∝ C. Nam si in propositione A ∝ B (vera ea hypothesi) substituitur C in locum B (quod facere licet per Def. I. quia B ∝ C ex hypothesi) fiet A ∝ C. Q. E. Dem.” Thus Leibnitz precisely anticipates the mode of treating inference with two simple identities described at p. 51 of this work.

Even the mathematical axiom that ‘equals added to equals make equals,’ is deduced from the principle of substitution. At p. 95 of Erdmann’s edition, we find: “Si eidem addantur coincidentia fiunt coincidentia. Si A ∝ B, erit A + C ∝ B + C. Nam si in propositione A + C ∝ A + C (quæ est vera per se) pro A semel substituas B (quod facere licet per Def. I. quia A ∝ B) fiet A + C ∝ B + C Q. E. Dem.” This is unquestionably the mode of deducing the several axioms of mathematical reasoning from the higher axiom of substitution, which is explained in the section on mathematical inference (p. [162]) in this work, and which had been previously stated in my Substitution of Similars, p. 16.

There are one or two other brief tracts in which Leibnitz anticipates the modern views of logic. Thus in the eighteenth tract in Erdmann’s edition (p. 92), called “Fundamenta Calculi Ratiocinatoris”, he says: “Inter ea quorum unum alteri substitui potest, salvis calculi legibus, dicetur esse æquipollentiam.” There is evidence, also, that he had arrived at the quantification of the predicate, and that he fully understood the reduction of the universal affirmative proposition to the form of an equation, which is the key to an improved view of logic. Thus, in the tract entitled “Difficultates Quædam Logicæ,”‍[3] he says: “Omne A est B; id est æquivalent AB et A, seu A non B est non-ens.”

It is curious to find, too, that Leibnitz was fully acquainted with the Laws of Commutativeness and “Simplicity” (as I have called the second law) attaching to logical symbols. In the “Addenda ad Specimen Calculi Universalis” we read as follows.‍[4] “Transpositio literarum in eodem termino nihil mutat, ut ab coincidet cum ba, seu animal rationale et rationale animal.”

“Repetitio ejusdem literæ in eodem termino est inutilis, ut b est aa; vel bb est a; homo est animal animal, vel homo homo est animal. Sufficit enim dici a est b, seu homo est animal.”

Comparing this with what is stated in Boole’s Mathematical Analysis of Logic, pp. 17–18, in his Laws of Thought, p. 29, or in this work, pp. [32]–35, we find that Leibnitz had arrived two centuries ago at a clear perception of the bases of logical notation. When Boole pointed out that, in logic, xx = x, this seemed to mathematicians to be a paradox, or in any case a wholly new discovery; but here we have it plainly stated by Leibnitz.

The reader must not assume, however, that because Leibnitz correctly apprehended the fundamental principles of logic, he left nothing for modern logicians to do. On the contrary, Leibnitz obtained no useful results from his definition of substitution. When he proceeds to explain the syllogism, as in the paper on “Definitiones Logicæ,”‍‍[5] he gives up substitution altogether, and falls back upon the notion of inclusion of class in class, saying, “Includens includentis est includens inclusi, seu si A includit B et B includit C, etiam A includet C.” He proceeds to make out certain rules of the syllogism involving the distinction of subject and predicate, and in no important respect better than the old rules of the syllogism. Leibnitz’ logical tracts are, in fact, little more than brief memoranda of investigations which seem never to have been followed out. They remain as evidence of his wonderful sagacity, but it would be difficult to show that they have had any influence on the progress of logical science in recent times.

I should like to explain how it happened that these logical writings of Leibnitz were unknown to me, until within the last twelve months. I am so slow a reader of Latin books, indeed, that my overlooking a few pages of Leibnitz’ works would not have been in any case surprising. But the fact is that the copy of Leibnitz’ works of which I made occasional use, was one of the edition of Dutens, contained in Owens College Library. The logical tracts in question were not printed in that edition, and with one exception, they remained in manuscript in the Royal Library at Hanover, until edited by Erdmann, in 1839–40. The tract “Difficultates Quædam Logicæ,” though not known to Dutens, was published by Raspe in 1765, in his collection called Œuvres Philosophiques de feu M^r. Leibnitz; but this work had not come to my notice, nor does the tract in question seem to contain any explicit statement of the principle of substitution.

It is, I presume, the comparatively recent publication of Leibnitz’ most remarkable logical tracts which explains the apparent ignorance of logicians as regards their contents and importance. The most learned logicians, such as Hamilton and Ueberweg, ignore Leibnitz’ principle of substitution. In the Appendix to the fourth volume of Hamilton’s Lectures on Metaphysics and Logic, is given an elaborate compendium of the views of logical writers concerning the ultimate basis of deductive reasoning. Leibnitz is briefly noticed on p. 319, but without any hint of substitution. He is here quoted as saying, “What are the same with the same third, are the same with each other; that is, if A be the same with B, and C be the same with B, it is necessary that A and C should also be the same with one another. For this principle flows immediately from the principle of contradiction, and is the ground and basis of all logic; if that fail, there is no longer any way of reasoning with certainty.” This view of the matter seems to be inconsistent with that which he adopted in his posthumous tract.

Dr. Thomson, indeed, was acquainted with Leibnitz’ tracts, and refers to them in his Outline of the Necessary Laws of Thought. He calls them valuable; nevertheless, he seems to have missed the really valuable point; for in making two brief quotations,‍[6] he omits all mention of the principle of substitution.

Ueberweg is probably considered the best authority concerning the history of logic, and in his well-known System of Logic and History of Logical Doctrines,‍[7] he gives some account of the principle of substitution, especially as it is implicitly stated in the Port Royal Logic. But he omits all reference to Leibnitz in this connection, nor does he elsewhere, so far as I can find, supply the omission. His English editor, Professor T. M. Lindsay, in referring to my Substitution of Similars, points out how I was anticipated by Beneke; but he also ignores Leibnitz. It is thus apparent that the most learned logicians, even when writing especially on the history of logic, displayed ignorance of Leibnitz’ most valuable logical writings.

It has been recently pointed out to me, however, that the Rev. Robert Harley did draw attention, at the Nottingham Meeting of the British Association, in 1866, to Leibnitz’ anticipations of Boole’s laws of logical notation,‍[8] and I am informed that Boole, about a year after the publication of his Laws of Thought, was made acquainted with these anticipations by R. Leslie Ellis.

There seems to have been at least one other German logician who discovered, or adopted, the principle of substitution. Reusch, in his Systema Logicum, published in 1734, laboured to give a broader basis to the Dictum de Omni et Nullo. He argues, that “the whole business of ordinary reasoning is accomplished by the substitution of ideas in place of the subject or predicate of the fundamental proposition. This some call the equation of thoughts.” But, in the hands of Reusch, substitution does not seem to lead to simplicity, since it has to be carried on according to the rules of Equipollence, Reciprocation, Subordination, and Co-ordination.‍[9] Reusch is elsewhere spoken of‍[10] as the “celebrated Reusch”; nevertheless, I have not been able to find a copy of his book in London, even in the British Museum Library; it is not mentioned in the printed catalogue of the Bodleian Library; Messrs. Asher have failed to obtain it for me by advertisement in Germany; and Professor Adamson has been equally unsuccessful. From the way in which the principle of substitution is mentioned by Reusch, it would seem likely that other logicians of the early part of the eighteenth century were acquainted with it; but, if so, it is still more curious that recent historians of logical science have overlooked the doctrine.

It is a strange and discouraging fact, that true views of logic should have been discovered and discussed from one to two centuries ago, and yet should have remained, like George Bentham’s work in this century, without influence on the subsequent progress of the science. It may be regarded as certain that none of the discoverers of the quantification of the predicate, Bentham, Hamilton, Thomson, De Morgan, and Boole, were in any way assisted by the hints of the principle contained in previous writers. As to my own views of logic, they were originally moulded by a careful study of Boole’s works, as fully stated in my first logical essay.‍[11] As to the process of substitution, it was not learnt from any work on logic, but is simply the process of substitution perfectly familiar to mathematicians, and with which I necessarily became familiar in the course of my long-continued study of mathematics under the late Professor De Morgan.

I find that the Theory of Number, which I explained in the eighth chapter of this work, is also partially anticipated in a single scholium of Leibnitz. He first gives as an axiom the now well-known law of Boole, as follows:‍—

“Axioma I. Si idem secum ipso sumatur, nihil constituitur novum, seu A + A ∝ A.” Then follows this remarkable scholium: “Equidem in numeris 4 + 4 facit 8, seu bini nummi binis additi faciunt quatuor nummos, sed tunc bini additi sunt alii a prioribus; si iidem essent nihil novi prodiret et perinde esset ac si joco ex tribus ovis facere vellemus sex numerando, primum 3 ova, deinde uno sublato residua 2, ac denique uno rursus sublato residuum.”

Translated this would read as follows:‍—

“Axiom I. If the same thing is taken together with itself, nothing new arises, or A + A = A.

“Scholium. In numbers, indeed, 4 + 4 makes 8, or two coins added to two coins make four coins, but then the two added are different from the former ones; if they were the same nothing new would be produced, and it would be just as if we tried in joke to make six eggs out of three, by counting firstly the three eggs, then, one being removed, counting the remaining two, and lastly, one being again removed, counting the remaining egg.”

Compare the above with pp. [156] to 162 of the present work.

M. Littré has quite recently pointed out‍[12] what he thinks is an analogy between the system of formal logic, stated in the following pages, and the logical devices of the celebrated Raymond Lully. Lully’s method of invention was described in a great number of mediæval books, but is best stated in his Ars Compendiosa Inveniendi Veritatem, seu Ars Magna et Major. This method consisted in placing various names of things in the sectors of concentric circles, so that when the circles were turned, every possible combination of the things was easily produced by mechanical means. It might, perhaps, be possible to discover in this method a vague and rude anticipation of combinational logic; but it is well known that the results of Lully’s method were usually of a fanciful, if not absurd character.

A much closer analogue of the Logical Alphabet is probably to be found in the Logical Square, invented by John Christian Lange, and described in a rare and unnoticed work by him which I have recently found in the British Museum.‍[13] This square involved the principle of bifurcate classification, and was an improved form of the Ramean and Porphyrian tree (see below, p. [702]). Lange seems, indeed, to have worked out his Logical Square into a mechanical form, and he suggests that it might be employed somewhat in the manner of Napier’s Bones (p. 65). There is much analogy between his Square and my Abacus, but Lange had not arrived at a logical system enabling him to use his invention for logical inference in the manner of the Logical Abacus. Another work of Lange is said to contain the first publication of the well known Eulerian diagrams of proposition and syllogism.‍[14]

Since the first edition was published, an important work by Mr. George Lewes has appeared, namely, his Problems of Life and Mind, which to a great extent treats of scientific method, and formulates the rules of philosophising. I should have liked to discuss the bearing of Mr. Lewes’s views upon those here propounded, but I have felt it to be impossible in a book already filling nearly 800 pages, to enter upon the discussion of a yet more extensive book. For the same reason I have not been able to compare my own treatment of the subject of probability with the views expressed by Mr. Venn in his Logic of Chance. With Mr. J. J. Murphy’s profound and remarkable works on Habit and Intelligence, and on The Scientific Basis of Faith, I was unfortunately unacquainted when I wrote the following pages. They cannot safely be overlooked by any one who wishes to comprehend the tendency of philosophy and scientific method in the present day.

It seems desirable that I should endeavour to answer some of the critics who have pointed out what they consider defects in the doctrines of this book, especially in the first part, which treats of deduction. Some of the notices of the work were indeed rather statements of its contents than critiques. Thus, I am much indebted to M. Louis Liard, Professor of Philosophy at Bordeaux, for the very careful exposition‍[15] of the substitutional view of logic which he gave in the excellent Revue Philosophique, edited by M. Ribot. (Mars, 1877, tom. iii. p. 277.) An equally careful account of the system was given by M. Riehl, Professor of Philosophy at Graz, in his article on “Die Englische Logik der Gegenwart,” published in the Vierteljahrsschrift für wissenschaftliche Philosophie. (1 Heft, Leipzig, 1876.) I should like to acknowledge also the careful and able manner in which my book was reviewed by the New York Daily Tribune and the New York Times.

The most serious objections which have been brought against my treatment of logic have regard to my failure to enter into an analysis of the ultimate nature and origin of the Laws of Thought. The Spectator,‍[16] for instance, in the course of a careful review, says of the principle of substitution, “Surely it is a great omission not to discuss whence we get this great principle itself; whether it is a pure law of the mind, or only an approximate lesson of experience; and if a pure product of the mind, whether there are any other products of the same kind, furnished by our knowing faculty itself.” Professor Robertson, in his very acute review,‍[17] likewise objects to the want of psychological and philosophical analysis. “If the book really corresponded to its title, Mr. Jevons could hardly have passed so lightly over the question, which he does not omit to raise, concerning those undoubted principles of knowledge commonly called the Laws of Thought.... Everywhere, indeed, he appears least at ease when he touches on questions properly philosophical; nor is he satisfactory in his psychological references, as on pp. 4, 5, where he cannot commit himself to a statement without an accompaniment of ‘probably,’ ‘almost,’ or ‘hardly.’ Reservations are often very much in place, but there are fundamental questions on which it is proper to make up one’s mind.”

These remarks appear to me to be well founded, and I must state why it is that I have ventured to publish an extensive work on logic, without properly making up my mind as to the fundamental nature of the reasoning process. The fault after all is one of omission rather than of commission. It is open to me on a future occasion to supply the deficiency if I should ever feel able to undertake the task. But I do not conceive it to be an essential part of any treatise to enter into an ultimate analysis of its subject matter. Analyses must always end somewhere. There were good treatises on light which described the laws of the phenomenon correctly before it was known whether light consisted of undulations or of projected particles. Now we have treatises on the Undulatory Theory which are very valuable and satisfactory, although they leave us in almost complete doubt as to what the vibrating medium really is. So I think that, in the present day, we need a correct and scientific exhibition of the formal laws of thought, and of the forms of reasoning based on them, although we may not be able to enter into any complete analysis of the nature of those laws. What would the science of geometry be like now if the Greek geometers had decided that it was improper to publish any propositions before they had decided on the nature of an axiom? Where would the science of arithmetic be now if an analysis of the nature of number itself were a necessary preliminary to a development of the results of its laws? In recent times there have been enormous additions to the mathematical sciences, but very few attempts at psychological analysis. In the Alexandrian and early mediæval schools of philosophy, much attention was given to the nature of unity and plurality chiefly called forth by the question of the Trinity. In the last two centuries whole sciences have been created out of the notion of plurality, and yet speculation on the nature of plurality has dwindled away. This present treatise contains, in the eighth chapter, one of the few recent attempts to analyse the notion of number itself.

If further illustration is needed, I may refer to the differential calculus. Nobody calls in question the formal truth of the results of that calculus. All the more exact and successful parts of physical science depend upon its use, and yet the mathematicians who have created so great a body of exact truths have never decided upon the basis of the calculus. What is the nature of a limit or the nature of an infinitesimal? Start the question among a knot of mathematicians, and it will be found that hardly two agree, unless it is in regarding the question itself as a trifling one. Some hold that there are no such things as infinitesimals, and that it is all a question of limits. Others would argue that the infinitesimal is the necessary outcome of the limit, but various shades of intermediate opinion spring up.

Now it is just the same with logic. If the forms of deductive and inductive reasoning given in the earlier part of this treatise are correct, they constitute a definite addition to logical science, and it would have been absurd to decline to publish such results because I could not at the same time decide in my own mind about the psychology and philosophy of the subject. It comes in short to this, that my book is a book on Formal Logic and Scientific Method, and not a book on psychology and philosophy.

It may be objected, indeed, as the Spectator objects, that Mill’s System of Logic is particularly strong in the discussion of the psychological foundations of reasoning, so that Mill would appear to have successfully treated that which I feel myself to be incapable of attempting at present. If Mill’s analysis of knowledge is correct, then I have nothing to say in excuse for my own deficiencies. But it is well to do one thing at a time, and therefore I have not occupied any considerable part of this book with controversy and refutation. What I have to say of Mill’s logic will be said in a separate work, in which his analysis of knowledge will be somewhat minutely analysed. It will then be shown, I believe, that Mill’s psychological and philosophical treatment of logic has not yielded such satisfactory results as some writers seem to believe.‍[18]

Various minor but still important criticisms were made by Professor Robertson, a few of which have been noticed in the text (pp. [27], [101]). In other cases his objections hardly admit of any other answer than such as consists in asking the reader to judge between the work and the criticism. Thus Mr. Robertson asserts‍[19] that the most complex logical problems solved in this book (up to p. 102 of this edition) might be more easily and shortly dealt with upon the principles and with the recognised methods of the traditional logic. The burden of proof here lies upon Mr. Robertson, and his only proof consists in a single case, where he is able, as it seems to me accidentally, to get a special conclusion by the old form of dilemma. It would be a long labour to test the old logic upon every result obtained by my notation, and I must leave such readers as are well acquainted with the syllogistic logic to pronounce upon the comparative simplicity and power of the new and old systems. For other acute objections brought forward by Mr. Robertson, I must refer the reader to the article in question.

One point in my last chapter, that on the Results and Limits of Scientific Method, has been criticised by Professor W. K. Clifford in his lecture‍[20] on “The First and the Last Catastrophe.” In vol. ii. p. 438 of the first edition (p. [744] of this edition) I referred to certain inferences drawn by eminent physicists as to a limit to the antiquity of the present order of things. “According to Sir W. Thomson’s deductions from Fourier’s theory of heat, we can trace down the dissipation of heat by conduction and radiation to an infinitely distant time when all things will be uniformly cold. But we cannot similarly trace the Heat-history of the Universe to an infinite distance in the past. For a certain negative value of the time, the formulæ give impossible values, indicating that there was some initial distribution of heat which could not have resulted, according to known laws of nature, from any previous distribution.”

Now according to Professor Clifford I have here misstated Thomson’s results. “It is not according to the known laws of nature, it is according to the known laws of conduction of heat, that Sir William Thomson is speaking. . . . All these physical writers, knowing what they were writing about, simply drew such conclusions from the facts which were before them as could be reasonably drawn. They say, here is a state of things which could not have been produced by the circumstances we are at present investigating. Then your speculator comes, he reads a sentence and says, ‘Here is an opportunity for me to have my fling.’ And he has his fling, and makes a purely baseless theory about the necessary origin of the present order of nature at some definite point of time, which might be calculated.”

Professor Clifford proceeds to explain that Thomson’s formulæ only give a limit to the heat history of, say, the earth’s crust in the solid state. We are led back to the time when it became solidified from the fluid condition. There is discontinuity in the history of the solid matter, but still discontinuity which is within our comprehension. Still further back we should come to discontinuity again, when the liquid was formed by the condensation of heated gaseous matter. Beyond that event, however, there is no need to suppose further discontinuity of law, for the gaseous matter might consist of molecules which had been falling together from different parts of space through infinite past time. As Professor Clifford says (p. 481) of the bodies of the universe, “What they have actually done is to fall together and get solid. If we should reverse the process we should see them separating and getting cool, and as a limit to that, we should find that all these bodies would be resolved into molecules, and all these would be flying away from each other. There would be no limit to that process, and we could trace it as far back as ever we liked to trace it.”

Assuming that I have erred, I should like to point out that I have erred in the best company, or more strictly, being a speculator, I have been led into error by the best physical writers. Professor Tait, in his Sketch of Thermodynamics, speaking of the laws discovered by Fourier for the motion of heat in a solid, says, “Their mathematical expressions point also to the fact that a uniform distribution of heat, or a distribution tending to become uniform, must have arisen from some primitive distribution of heat of a kind not capable of being produced by known laws from any previous distribution.” In the latter words it will be seen that there is no limitation to the laws of conduction, and, although I had carefully referred to Sir W. Thomson’s original paper, it is not unnatural that I should take Professor Tait’s interpretation of its meaning.‍[21]

In his new work On some Recent Advances in Physical Science, Professor Tait has recurred to the subject as follows:‍[22] “A profound lesson may be learned from one of the earliest little papers of Sir W. Thomson, published while he was an undergraduate at Cambridge, where he shows that Fourier’s magnificent treatment of the conduction of heat [in a solid body] leads to formulæ for its distribution which are intelligible (and of course capable of being fully verified by experiment) for all time future, but which, except in particular cases, when extended to time past, remain intelligible for a finite period only, and then indicate a state of things which could not have resulted under known laws from any conceivable previous distribution [of heat in the body]. So far as heat is concerned, modern investigations have shown that a previous distribution of the matter involved may, by its potential energy, be capable of producing such a state of things at the moment of its aggregation; but the example is now adduced not for its bearing on heat alone, but as a simple illustration of the fact that all portions of our Science, especially that beautiful one, the Dissipation of Energy, point unanimously to a beginning, to a state of things incapable of being derived by present laws [of tangible matter and its energy] from any conceivable previous arrangement.” As this was published nearly a year after Professor Clifford’s lecture, it may be inferred that Professor Tait adheres to his original opinion that the theory of heat does give evidence of “a beginning.”

I may add that Professor Clerk Maxwell’s words seem to countenance the same view, for he says,‍[23] “This is only one of the cases in which a consideration of the dissipation of energy leads to the determination of a superior limit to the antiquity of the observed order of things.” The expression “observed order of things” is open to much ambiguity, but in the absence of qualification I should take it to include the aggregate of the laws of nature known to us. I should interpret Professor Maxwell as meaning that the theory of heat indicates the occurrence of some event of which our science cannot give any further explanation. The physical writers thus seem not to be so clear about the matter as Professor Clifford assumes.

So far as I may venture to form an independent opinion on the subject, it is to the effect that Professor Clifford is right, and that the known laws of nature do not enable us to assign a “beginning.” Science leads us backwards into infinite past duration. But that Professor Clifford is right on this point, is no reason why we should suppose him to be right in his other opinions, some of which I am sure are wrong. Nor is it a reason why other parts of my last chapter should be wrong. The question only affects the single paragraph on pp. [744]–5 of this book, which might, I believe, be struck out without necessitating any alteration in the rest of the text. It is always to be remembered that the failure of an argument in favour of a proposition does not, generally speaking, add much, if any, probability to the contradictory proposition. I cannot conclude without expressing my acknowledgments to Professor Clifford for his kind expressions regarding my work as a whole.

2, The Chestnuts,
West Heath,
Hampstead, N. W.

August 15, 1877.

CONTENTS.

THE PRINCIPLES OF SCIENCE.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.

Science arises from the discovery of Identity amidst Diversity. The process may be described in different words, but our language must always imply the presence of one common and necessary element. In every act of inference or scientific method we are engaged about a certain identity, sameness, similarity, likeness, resemblance, analogy, equivalence or equality apparent between two objects. It is doubtful whether an entirely isolated phenomenon could present itself to our notice, since there must always be some points of similarity between object and object. But in any case an isolated phenomenon could be studied to no useful purpose. The whole value of science consists in the power which it confers upon us of applying to one object the knowledge acquired from like objects; and it is only so far, therefore, as we can discover and register resemblances that we can turn our observations to account.

Nature is a spectacle continually exhibited to our senses, in which phenomena are mingled in combinations of endless variety and novelty. Wonder fixes the mind’s attention; memory stores up a record of each distinct impression; the powers of association bring forth the record when the like is felt again. By the higher faculties of judgment and reasoning the mind compares the new with the old, recognises essential identity, even when disguised by diverse circumstances, and expects to find again what was before experienced. It must be the ground of all reasoning and inference that what is true of one thing will be true of its equivalent, and that under carefully ascertained conditions Nature repeats herself.

Were this indeed a Chaotic Universe, the powers of mind employed in science would be useless to us. Did Chance wholly take the place of order, and did all phenomena come out of an Infinite Lottery, to use Condorcet’s expression, there could be no reason to expect the like result in like circumstances. It is possible to conceive a world in which no two things should be associated more often, in the long run, than any other two things. The frequent conjunction of any two events would then be purely fortuitous, and if we expected conjunctions to recur continually, we should be disappointed. In such a world we might recognise the same kind of phenomenon as it appeared from time to time, just as we might recognise a marked ball as it was occasionally drawn and re-drawn from a ballot-box; but the approach of any phenomenon would be in no way indicated by what had gone before, nor would it be a sign of what was to come after. In such a world knowledge would be no more than the memory of past coincidences, and the reasoning powers, if they existed at all, would give no clue to the nature of the present, and no presage of the future.

Happily the Universe in which we dwell is not the result of chance, and where chance seems to work it is our own deficient faculties which prevent us from recognising the operation of Law and of Design. In the material framework of this world, substances and forces present themselves in definite and stable combinations. Things are not in perpetual flux, as ancient philosophers held. Element remains element; iron changes not into gold. With suitable precautions we can calculate upon finding the same thing again endowed with the same properties. The constituents of the globe, indeed, appear in almost endless combinations; but each combination bears its fixed character, and when resolved is found to be the compound of definite substances. Misapprehensions must continually occur, owing to the limited extent of our experience. We can never have examined and registered possible existences so thoroughly as to be sure that no new ones will occur and frustrate our calculations. The same outward appearances may cover any amount of hidden differences which we have not yet suspected. To the variety of substances and powers diffused through nature at its creation, we should not suppose that our brief experience can assign a limit, and the necessary imperfection of our knowledge must be ever borne in mind.

Yet there is much to give us confidence in Science. The wider our experience, the more minute our examination of the globe, the greater the accumulation of well-reasoned knowledge,—the fewer in all probability will be the failures of inference compared with the successes. Exceptions to the prevalence of Law are gradually reduced to Law themselves. Certain deep similarities have been detected among the objects around us, and have never yet been found wanting. As the means of examining distant parts of the universe have been acquired, those similarities have been traced there as here. Other worlds and stellar systems may be almost incomprehensively different from ours in magnitude, condition and disposition of parts, and yet we detect there the same elements of which our own limbs are composed. The same natural laws can be detected in operation in every part of the universe within the scope of our instruments; and doubtless these laws are obeyed irrespective of distance, time, and circumstance.

It is the prerogative of Intellect to discover what is uniform and unchanging in the phenomena around us. So far as object is different from object, knowledge is useless and inference impossible. But so far as object resembles object, we can pass from one to the other. In proportion as resemblance is deeper and more general, the commanding powers of knowledge become more wonderful. Identity in one or other of its phases is thus always the bridge by which we pass in inference from case to case; and it is my purpose in this treatise to trace out the various forms in which the one same process of reasoning presents itself in the ever-growing achievements of Scientific Method.

The Powers of Mind concerned in the Creation of Science.

It is no part of the purpose of this work to investigate the nature of mind. People not uncommonly suppose that logic is a branch of psychology, because reasoning is a mental operation. On the same ground, however, we might argue that all the sciences are branches of psychology. As will be further explained, I adopt the opinion of Mr. Herbert Spencer, that logic is really an objective science, like mathematics or mechanics. Only in an incidental manner, then, need I point out that the mental powers employed in the acquisition of knowledge are probably three in number. They are substantially as Professor Bain has stated them‍[24]:‍—

1. The Power of Discrimination.

2. The Power of Detecting Identity.

3. The Power of Retention.

We exert the first power in every act of perception. Hardly can we have a sensation or feeling unless we discriminate it from something else which preceded. Consciousness would almost seem to consist in the break between one state of mind and the next, just as an induced current of electricity arises from the beginning or the ending of the primary current. We are always engaged in discrimination; and the rudiment of thought which exists in the lower animals probably consists in their power of feeling difference and being agitated by it.

Yet had we the power of discrimination only, Science could not be created. To know that one feeling differs from another gives purely negative information. It cannot teach us what will happen. In such a state of intellect each sensation would stand out distinct from every other; there would be no tie, no bridge of affinity between them. We want a unifying power by which the present and the future may be linked to the past; and this seems to be accomplished by a different power of mind. Lord Bacon has pointed out that different men possess in very different degrees the powers of discrimination and identification. It may be said indeed that discrimination necessarily implies the action of the opposite process of identification; and so it doubtless does in negative points. But there is a rare property of mind which consists in penetrating the disguise of variety and seizing the common elements of sameness; and it is this property which furnishes the true measure of intellect. The name of “intellect” expresses the interlacing of the general and the single, which is the peculiar province of mind.‍[25] To cogitate is the Latin coagitare, resting on a like metaphor. Logic, also, is but another name for the same process, the peculiar work of reason; for λογος is derived from λεγειν, which like the Latin legere meant originally to gather. Plato said of this unifying power, that if he met the man who could detect the one in the many, he would follow him as a god.

Laws of Identity and Difference.

At the base of all thought and science must lie the laws which express the very nature and conditions of the discriminating and identifying powers of mind. These are the so-called Fundamental Laws of Thought, usually stated as follows:‍—

1. The Law of Identity. Whatever is, is.

2. The Law of Contradiction. A thing cannot both be and not be.

3. The Law of Duality. A thing must either be or not be.

The first of these statements may perhaps be regarded as a description of identity itself, if so fundamental a notion can admit of description. A thing at any moment is perfectly identical with itself, and, if any person were unaware of the meaning of the word “identity,” we could not better describe it than by such an example.

The second law points out that contradictory attributes can never be joined together. The same object may vary in its different parts; here it may be black, and there white; at one time it may be hard and at another time soft; but at the same time and place an attribute cannot be both present and absent. Aristotle truly described this law as the first of all axioms—one of which we need not seek for any demonstration. All truths cannot be proved, otherwise there would be an endless chain of demonstration; and it is in self-evident truths like this that we find the simplest foundations.

The third of these laws completes the other two. It asserts that at every step there are two possible alternatives—presence or absence, affirmation or negation. Hence I propose to name this law the Law of Duality, for it gives to all the formulæ of reasoning a dual character. It asserts also that between presence and absence, existence and non-existence, affirmation and negation, there is no third alternative. As Aristotle said, there can be no mean between opposite assertions: we must either affirm or deny. Hence the inconvenient name by which it has been known—The Law of Excluded Middle.

It may be allowed that these laws are not three independent and distinct laws; they rather express three different aspects of the same truth, and each law doubtless presupposes and implies the other two. But it has not hitherto been found possible to state these characters of identity and difference in less than the threefold formula. The reader may perhaps desire some information as to the mode in which these laws have been stated, or the way in which they have been regarded, by philosophers in different ages of the world. Abundant information on this and many other points of logical history will be found in Ueberweg’s System of Logic, of which an excellent translation has been published by Professor T. M. Lindsay (see pp. 228–281).

The Nature of the Laws of Identity and Difference.

I must at least allude to the profoundly difficult question concerning the nature and authority of these Laws of Identity and Difference. Are they Laws of Thought or Laws of Things? Do they belong to mind or to material nature? On the one hand it may be said that science is a purely mental existence, and must therefore conform to the laws of that which formed it. Science is in the mind and not in the things, and the properties of mind are therefore all important. It is true that these laws are verified in the observation of the exterior world; and it would seem that they might have been gathered and proved by generalisation, had they not already been in our possession. But on the other hand, it may well be urged that we cannot prove these laws by any process of reasoning or observation, because the laws themselves are presupposed, as Leibnitz acutely remarked, in the very notion of a proof. They are the prior conditions of all thought and all knowledge, and even to question their truth is to allow them true. Hartley ingeniously refined upon this argument, remarking that if the fundamental laws of logic be not certain, there must exist a logic of a second order whereby we may determine the degree of uncertainty: if the second logic be not certain, there must be a third; and so on ad infinitum. Thus we must suppose either that absolutely certain laws of thought exist, or that there is no such thing as certainty whatever.‍[26]

Logicians, indeed, appear to me to have paid insufficient attention to the fact that mistakes in reasoning are always possible, and of not unfrequent occurrence. The Laws of Thought are often called necessary laws, that is, laws which cannot but be obeyed. Yet as a matter of fact, who is there that does not often fail to obey them? They are the laws which the mind ought to obey rather than what it always does obey. Our thoughts cannot be the criterion of truth, for we often have to acknowledge mistakes in arguments of moderate complexity, and we sometimes only discover our mistakes by collision between our expectations and the events of objective nature.

Mr. Herbert Spencer holds that the laws of logic are objective laws,‍[27] and he regards the mind as being in a state of constant education, each act of false reasoning or miscalculation leading to results which are likely to prevent similar mistakes from being again committed. I am quite inclined to accept such ingenious views; but at the same time it is necessary to distinguish between the accumulation of knowledge, and the constitution of the mind which allows of the acquisition of knowledge. Before the mind can perceive or reason at all it must have the conditions of thought impressed upon it. Before a mistake can be committed, the mind must clearly distinguish the mistaken conclusion from all other assertions. Are not the Laws of Identity and Difference the prior conditions of all consciousness and all existence? Must they not hold true, alike of things material and immaterial? and if so, can we say that they are only subjectively true or objectively true? I am inclined, in short, to regard them as true both “in the nature of thought and things,” as I expressed it in my first logical essay;‍[28] and I hold that they belong to the common basis of all existence. But this is one of the most difficult questions of psychology and metaphysics which can be raised, and it is hardly one for the logician to decide. As the mathematician does not inquire into the nature of unity and plurality, but develops the formal laws of plurality, so the logician, as I conceive, must assume the truth of the Laws of Identity and Difference, and occupy himself in developing the variety of forms of reasoning in which their truth may be manifested.

Again, I need hardly dwell upon the question whether logic treats of language, notions, or things. As reasonably might we debate whether a mathematician treats of symbols, quantities, or things. A mathematician certainly does treat of symbols, but only as the instruments whereby to facilitate his reasoning concerning quantities; and as the axioms and rules of mathematical science must be verified in concrete objects in order that the calculations founded upon them may have any validity or utility, it follows that the ultimate objects of mathematical science are the things themselves. In like manner I conceive that the logician treats of language so far as it is essential for the embodiment and exhibition of thought. Even if reasoning can take place in the inner consciousness of man without the use of any signs, which is doubtful, at any rate it cannot become the subject of discussion until by some system of material signs it is manifested to other persons. The logician then uses words and symbols as instruments of reasoning, and leaves the nature and peculiarities of language to the grammarian. But signs again must correspond to the thoughts and things expressed, in order that they shall serve their intended purpose. We may therefore say that logic treats ultimately of thoughts and things, and immediately of the signs which stand for them. Signs, thoughts, and exterior objects may be regarded as parallel and analogous series of phenomena, and to treat any one of the three series is equivalent to treating either of the other series.

The Process of Inference.

The fundamental action of our reasoning faculties consists in inferring or carrying to a new instance of a phenomenon whatever we have previously known of its like, analogue, equivalent or equal. Sameness or identity presents itself in all degrees, and is known under various names; but the great rule of inference embraces all degrees, and affirms that so far as there exists sameness, identity or likeness, what is true of one thing will be true of the other. The great difficulty doubtless consists in ascertaining that there does exist a sufficient degree of likeness or sameness to warrant an intended inference; and it will be our main task to investigate the conditions under which reasoning is valid. In this place I wish to point out that there is something common to all acts of inference, however different their apparent forms. The one same rule lends itself to the most diverse applications.

The simplest possible case of inference, perhaps, occurs in the use of a pattern, example, or, as it is commonly called, a sample. To prove the exact similarity of two portions of commodity, we need not bring one portion beside the other. It is sufficient that we take a sample which exactly represents the texture, appearance, and general nature of one portion, and according as this sample agrees or not with the other, so will the two portions of commodity agree or differ. Whatever is true as regards the colour, texture, density, material of the sample will be true of the goods themselves. In such cases likeness of quality is the condition of inference.

Exactly the same mode of reasoning holds true of magnitude and figure. To compare the sizes of two objects, we need not lay them beside each other. A staff, string, or other kind of measure may be employed to represent the length of one object, and according as it agrees or not with the other, so must the two objects agree or differ. In this case the proxy or sample represents length; but the fact that lengths can be added and multiplied renders it unnecessary that the proxy should always be as large as the object. Any standard of convenient size, such as a common foot-rule, may be made the medium of comparison. The height of a church in one town may be carried to that in another, and objects existing immovably at opposite sides of the earth may be vicariously measured against each other. We obviously employ the axiom that whatever is true of a thing as regards its length, is true of its equal.

To every other simple phenomenon in nature the same principle of substitution is applicable. We may compare weights, densities, degrees of hardness, and degrees of all other qualities, in like manner. To ascertain whether two sounds are in unison we need not compare them directly, but a third sound may be the go-between. If a tuning-fork is in unison with the middle C of York Minster organ, and we afterwards find it to be in unison with the same note of the organ in Westminster Abbey, then it follows that the two organs are tuned in unison. The rule of inference now is, that what is true of the tuning-fork as regards the tone or pitch of its sound, is true of any sound in unison with it.

The skilful employment of this substitutive process enables us to make measurements beyond the powers of our senses. No one can count the vibrations, for instance, of an organ-pipe. But we can construct an instrument called the siren, so that, while producing a sound of any pitch, it shall register the number of vibrations constituting the sound. Adjusting the sound of the siren in unison with an organ-pipe, we measure indirectly the number of vibrations belonging to a sound of that pitch. To measure a sound of the same pitch is as good as to measure the sound itself.

Sir David Brewster, in a somewhat similar manner, succeeded in measuring the refractive indices of irregular fragments of transparent minerals. It was a troublesome, and sometimes impracticable work to grind the minerals into prisms, so that the power of refracting light could be directly observed; but he fell upon the ingenious device of compounding a liquid possessing the same refractive power as the transparent fragment under examination. The moment when this equality was attained could be known by the fragments ceasing to reflect or refract light when immersed in the liquid, so that they became almost invisible in it. The refractive power of the liquid being then measured gave that of the solid. A more beautiful instance of representative measurement, depending immediately upon the principle of inference, could not be found.‍[29]

Throughout the various logical processes which we are about to consider—Deduction, Induction, Generalisation, Analogy, Classification, Quantitative Reasoning—we shall find the one same principle operating in a more or less disguised form.

Deduction and Induction.

The processes of inference always depend on the one same principle of substitution; but they may nevertheless be distinguished according as the results are inductive or deductive. As generally stated, deduction consists in passing from more general to less general truths; induction is the contrary process from less to more general truths. We may however describe the difference in another manner. In deduction we are engaged in developing the consequences of a law. We learn the meaning, contents, results or inferences, which attach to any given proposition. Induction is the exactly inverse process. Given certain results or consequences, we are required to discover the general law from which they flow.

In a certain sense all knowledge is inductive. We can only learn the laws and relations of things in nature by observing those things. But the knowledge gained from the senses is knowledge only of particular facts, and we require some process of reasoning by which we may collect out of the facts the laws obeyed by them. Experience gives us the materials of knowledge: induction digests those materials, and yields us general knowledge. When we possess such knowledge, in the form of general propositions and natural laws, we can usefully apply the reverse process of deduction to ascertain the exact information required at any moment. In its ultimate foundation, then, all knowledge is inductive—in the sense that it is derived by a certain inductive reasoning from the facts of experience.

It is nevertheless true,—and this is a point to which insufficient attention has been paid, that all reasoning is founded on the principles of deduction. I call in question the existence of any method of reasoning which can be carried on without a knowledge of deductive processes. I shall endeavour to show that induction is really the inverse process of deduction. There is no mode of ascertaining the laws which are obeyed in certain phenomena, unless we have the power of determining what results would follow from a given law. Just as the process of division necessitates a prior knowledge of multiplication, or the integral calculus rests upon the observation and remembrance of the results of the differential calculus, so induction requires a prior knowledge of deduction. An inverse process is the undoing of the direct process. A person who enters a maze must either trust to chance to lead him out again, or he must carefully notice the road by which he entered. The facts furnished to us by experience are a maze of particular results; we might by chance observe in them the fulfilment of a law, but this is scarcely possible, unless we thoroughly learn the effects which would attach to any particular law.

Accordingly, the importance of deductive reasoning is doubly supreme. Even when we gain the results of induction they would be of no use unless we could deductively apply them. But before we can gain them at all we must understand deduction, since it is the inversion of deduction which constitutes induction. Our first task in this work, then, must be to trace out fully the nature of identity in all its forms of occurrence. Having given any series of propositions we must be prepared to develop deductively the whole meaning embodied in them, and the whole of the consequences which flow from them.

Symbolic Expression of Logical Inference.

In developing the results of the Principle of Inference we require to use an appropriate language of signs. It would indeed be quite possible to explain the processes of reasoning by the use of words found in the dictionary. Special examples of reasoning, too, may seem to be more readily apprehended than general symbolic forms. But it has been shown in the mathematical sciences that the attainment of truth depends greatly upon the invention of a clear, brief, and appropriate system of symbols. Not only is such a language convenient, but it is almost essential to the expression of those general truths which are the very soul of science. To apprehend the truth of special cases of inference does not constitute logic; we must apprehend them as cases of more general truths. The object of all science is the separation of what is common and general from what is accidental and different. In a system of logic, if anywhere, we should esteem this generality, and strive to exhibit clearly what is similar in very diverse cases. Hence the great value of general symbols by which we can represent the form of a reasoning process, disentangled from any consideration of the special subject to which it is applied.

The signs required in logic are of a very simple kind. As sameness or difference must exist between two things or notions, we need signs to indicate the things or notions compared, and other signs to denote the relations between them. We need, then, (1) symbols for terms, (2) a symbol for sameness, (3) a symbol for difference, and (4) one or two symbols to take the place of conjunctions.

Ordinary nouns substantive, such as Iron, Metal, Electricity, Undulation, might serve as terms, but, for the reasons explained above, it is better to adopt blank letters, devoid of special signification, such as A, B, C, &c. Each letter must be understood to represent a noun, and, so far as the conditions of the argument allow, any noun. Just as in Algebra, x, y, z, p, q, &c. are used for any quantities, undetermined or unknown, except when the special conditions of the problem are taken into account, so will our letters stand for undetermined or unknown things.

These letter-terms will be used indifferently for nouns substantive and adjective. Between these two kinds of nouns there may perhaps be differences in a metaphysical or grammatical point of view. But grammatical usage sanctions the conversion of adjectives into substantives, and vice versâ; we may avail ourselves of this latitude without in any way prejudging the metaphysical difficulties which may be involved. Here, as throughout this work, I shall devote my attention to truths which I can exhibit in a clear and formal manner, believing that in the present condition of logical science, this course will lead to greater advantage than discussion upon the metaphysical questions which may underlie any part of the subject.

Every noun or term denotes an object, and usually implies the possession by that object of certain qualities or circumstances common to all the objects denoted. There are certain terms, however, which imply the absence of qualities or circumstances attaching to other objects. It will be convenient to employ a special mode of indicating these negative terms, as they are called. If the general name A denotes an object or class of objects possessing certain defined qualities, then the term Not A will denote any object which does not possess the whole of those qualities; in short, Not A is the sign for anything which differs from A in regard to any one or more of the assigned qualities. If A denote “transparent object,” Not A will denote “not transparent object.” Brevity and facility of expression are of no slight importance in a system of notation, and it will therefore be desirable to substitute for the negative term Not A a briefer symbol. De Morgan represented negative terms by small Roman letters, or sometimes by small italic letters;‍[30] as the latter seem to be highly convenient, I shall use a, b, c, . . . p, q, &c., as the negative terms corresponding to A, B, C, . . . P, Q, &c. Thus if A means “fluid,” a will mean “not fluid.”

Expression of Identity and Difference.

To denote the relation of sameness or identity I unhesitatingly adopt the sign =, so long used by mathematicians to denote equality. This symbol was originally appropriated by Robert Recorde in his Whetstone of Wit, to avoid the tedious repetition of the words “is equal to;” and he chose a pair of parallel lines, because no two things can be more equal.‍[31] The meaning of the sign has however been gradually extended beyond that of equality of quantities; mathematicians have themselves used it to indicate equivalence of operations. The force of analogy has been so great that writers in most other branches of science have employed the same sign. The philologist uses it to indicate the equivalence of meaning of words: chemists adopt it to signify identity in kind and equality in weight of the elements which form two different compounds. Not a few logicians, for instance Lambert, Drobitsch, George Bentham,‍[32] Boole,‍[33] have employed it as the copula of propositions. De Morgan declined to use it for this purpose, but still further extended its meaning so as to include the equivalence of a proposition with the premises from which it can be inferred;‍[34] and Herbert Spencer has applied it in a like manner.‍[35]

Many persons may think that the choice of a symbol is a matter of slight importance or of mere convenience; but I hold that the common use of this sign = in so many different meanings is really founded upon a generalisation of the widest character and of the greatest importance—one indeed which it is a principal purpose of this work to explain. The employment of the same sign in different cases would be unphilosophical unless there were some real analogy between its diverse meanings. If such analogy exists, it is not only allowable, but highly desirable and even imperative, to use the symbol of equivalence with a generality of meaning corresponding to the generality of the principles involved. Accordingly De Morgan’s refusal to use the symbol in logical propositions indicated his opinion that there was a want of analogy between logical propositions and mathematical equations. I use the sign because I hold the contrary opinion.

I conceive that the sign = as commonly employed, always denotes some form or degree of sameness, and the particular form is usually indicated by the nature of the terms joined by it. Thus “6,720 pounds = 3 tons” is evidently an equation of quantities. The formula — × — = + expresses the equivalence of operations. “Exogens = Dicotyledons” is a logical identity expressing a profound truth concerning the character and origin of a most important group of plants.

We have great need in logic of a distinct sign for the copula, because the little verb is (or are), hitherto used both in logic and ordinary discourse, is thoroughly ambiguous. It sometimes denotes identity, as in “St. Paul’s is the chef-d’œuvre of Sir Christopher Wren;” but it more commonly indicates inclusion of class within class, or partial identity, as in “Bishops are members of the House of Lords.” This latter relation involves identity, but requires careful discrimination from simple identity, as will be shown further on.

When with this sign of equality we join two nouns or logical terms, as in

Hydrogen = The least dense element,

we signify that the object or group of objects denoted by one term is identical with that denoted by the other, in everything except the names. The general formula

A = B

must be taken to mean that A and B are symbols for the same object or group of objects. This identity may sometimes arise from the mere imposition of names, but it may also arise from the deepest laws of the constitution of nature; as when we say

Gravitating matter = Matter possessing inertia,

Exogenous plants = Dicotyledonous plants,

Plagihedral quartz crystals = Quartz crystals causing the plane of polarisation of light to rotate.

We shall need carefully to distinguish between relations of terms which can be modified at our own will and those which are fixed as expressing the laws of nature; but at present we are considering only the mode of expression which may be the same in either case.

Sometimes, but much less frequently, we require a symbol to indicate difference or the absence of complete sameness. For this purpose we may generalise in like manner the symbol ~, which was introduced by Wallis to signify difference between quantities. The general formula

B ~ C

denotes that B and C are the names of two objects or groups which are not identical with each other. Thus we may say

Acrogens ~ Flowering plants.

Snowdon ~ The highest mountain in Great Britain.

I shall also occasionally use the sign ᔕ to signify in the most general manner the existence of any relation between the two terms connected by it. Thus ᔕ might mean not only the relations of equality or inequality, sameness or difference, but any special relation of time, place, size, causation, &c. in which one thing may stand to another. By A ᔕ B I mean, then, any two objects of thought related to each other in any conceivable manner.

General Formula of Logical Inference.

The one supreme rule of inference consists, as I have said, in the direction to affirm of anything whatever is known of its like, equal or equivalent. The Substitution of Similars is a phrase which seems aptly to express the capacity of mutual replacement existing in any two objects which are like or equivalent to a sufficient degree. It is matter for further investigation to ascertain when and for what purposes a degree of similarity less than complete identity is sufficient to warrant substitution. For the present we think only of the exact sameness expressed in the form

A = B.

Now if we take the letter C to denote any third conceivable object, and use the sign ᔕ in its stated meaning of indefinite relation, then the general formula of all inference may be thus exhibited:‍—

From     A = B ᔕ C

we may infer   A ᔕ C

or, in words—In whatever relation a thing stands to a second thing, in the same relation it stands to the like or equivalent of that second thing. The identity between A and B allows us indifferently to place A where B was, or B where A was; and there is no limit to the variety of special meanings which we can bestow upon the signs used in this formula consistently with its truth. Thus if we first specify only the meaning of the sign ᔕ, we may say that if C is the weight of B, then C is also the weight of A. Similarly

If C is the father of B, C is the father of A;

If C is a fragment of B, C is a fragment of A;

If C is a quality of B, C is a quality of A;

If C is a species of B, C is a species of A;

If C is the equal of B, C is the equal of A;

and so on ad infinitum.

We may also endow with special meanings the letter-terms A, B, and C, and the process of inference will never be false. Thus let the sign ᔕ mean “is height of,” and let

A = Snowdon,

B = Highest mountain in England or Wales,

C = 3,590 feet;

then it obviously follows since “3,590 feet is the height of Snowdon,” and “Snowdon = the highest mountain in England or Wales,” that, “3,590 feet is the height of the highest mountain in England or Wales.”

One result of this general process of inference is that we may in any aggregate or complex whole replace any part by its equivalent without altering the whole. To alter is to make a difference; but if in replacing a part I make no difference, there is no alteration of the whole. Many inferences which have been very imperfectly included in logical formulas at once follow. I remember the late Prof. De Morgan remarking that all Aristotle’s logic could not prove that “Because a horse is an animal, the head of a horse is the head of an animal.” I conceive that this amounts merely to replacing in the complete notion head of a horse, the term “horse,” by its equivalent some animal or an animal. Similarly, since

The Lord Chancellor = The Speaker of the House of Lords,

it follows that

The death of the Lord Chancellor = The death of the Speaker of the House of Lords;

and any event, circumstance or thing, which stands in a certain relation to the one will stand in like relation to the other. Milton reasons in this way when he says, in his Areopagitica, “Who kills a man, kills a reasonable creature, God’s image.” If we may suppose him to mean

God’s image = man = some reasonable creature,

it follows that “The killer of a man is the killer of some reasonable creature,” and also “The killer of God’s image.”

This replacement of equivalents may be repeated over and over again to any extent. Thus if person is identical in meaning with individual, it follows that

Meeting of persons = meeting of individuals;

and if assemblage = meeting, we may make a new replacement and show that

Meeting of persons = assemblage of individuals.

We may in fact found upon this principle of substitution a most general axiom in the following terms‍[36]:‍—

Same parts samely related make same wholes.

If, for instance, exactly similar bricks and other materials be used to build two houses, and they be similarly placed in each house, the two houses must be similar. There are millions of cells in a human body, but if each cell of one person were represented by an exactly similar cell similarly placed in another body, the two persons would be undistinguishable, and would be only numerically different. It is upon this principle, as we shall see, that all accurate processes of measurement depend. If for a weight in a scale of a balance we substitute another weight, and the equilibrium remains entirely unchanged, then the weights must be exactly equal. The general test of equality is substitution. Objects are equally bright when on replacing one by the other the eye perceives no difference. Objects are equal in dimensions when tested by the same gauge they fit in the same manner. Generally speaking, two objects are alike so far as when substituted one for another no alteration is produced, and vice versâ when alike no alteration is produced by the substitution.

The Propagating Power of Similarity.

The relation of similarity in all its degrees is reciprocal. So far as things are alike, either may be substituted for the other; and this may perhaps be considered the very meaning of the relation. But it is well worth notice that there is in similarity a peculiar power of extending itself among all the things which are similar. To render a number of things similar to each other we need only render them similar to one standard object. Each coin struck from a pair of dies not only resembles the matrix or original pattern from which the dies were struck, but resembles every other coin manufactured from the same original pattern. Among a million such coins there are not less than 499,999,500,000 pairs of coins resembling each other. Similars to the same are similars to all. It is one great advantage of printing that all copies of a document struck from the same type are necessarily identical each with each, and whatever is true of one copy will be true of every copy. Similarly, if fifty rows of pipes in an organ be tuned in perfect unison with one row, usually the Principal, they must be in unison with each other. Similarity can also reproduce or propagate itself ad infinitum: for if a number of tuning-forks be adjusted in perfect unison with one standard fork, all instruments tuned to any one fork will agree with any instrument tuned to any other fork. Standard measures of length, capacity, weight, or any other measurable quality, are propagated in the same manner. So far as copies of the original standard, or copies of copies, or copies again of those copies, are accurately executed, they must all agree each with every other.

It is the capability of mutual substitution which gives such great value to the modern methods of mechanical construction, according to which all the parts of a machine are exact facsimiles of a fixed pattern. The rifles used in the British army are constructed on the American interchangeable system, so that any part of any rifle can be substituted for the same part of another. A bullet fitting one rifle will fit all others of the same bore. Sir J. Whitworth has extended the same system to the screws and screw-bolts used in connecting together the parts of machines, by establishing a series of standard screws.

Anticipations of the Principle of Substitution.

In such a subject as logic it is hardly possible to put forth any opinions which have not been in some degree previously entertained. The germ at least of every doctrine will be found in earlier writers, and novelty must arise chiefly in the mode of harmonising and developing ideas. When I first employed the process and name of substitution in logic,‍[37] I was led to do so from analogy with the familiar mathematical process of substituting for a symbol its value as given in an equation. In writing my first logical essay I had a most imperfect conception of the importance and generality of the process, and I described, as if they were of equal importance, a number of other laws which now seem to be but particular cases of the one general rule of substitution.

My second essay, “The Substitution of Similars,” was written shortly after I had become aware of the great simplification which may be effected by a proper application of the principle of substitution. I was not then acquainted with the fact that the German logician Beneke had employed the principle of substitution, and had used the word itself in forming a theory of the syllogism. My imperfect acquaintance with the German language had prevented me from acquiring a complete knowledge of Beneke’s views; but there is no doubt that Professor Lindsay is right in saying that he, and probably other logicians, were in some degree familiar with the principle.‍[38] Even Aristotle’s dictum may be regarded as an imperfect statement of the principle of substitution; and, as I have pointed out, we have only to modify that dictum in accordance with the quantification of the predicate in order to arrive at the complete process of substitution.‍[39] The Port-Royal logicians appear to have entertained nearly equivalent views, for they considered that all moods of the syllogism might be reduced under one general principle.‍[40] Of two premises they regard one as the containing proposition (propositio continens), and the other as the applicative proposition. The latter proposition must always be affirmative, and represents that by which a substitution is made; the former may or may not be negative, and is that in which a substitution is effected. They also show that this method will embrace certain cases of complex reasoning which had no place in the Aristotelian syllogism. Their views probably constitute the greatest improvement in logical doctrine made up to that time since the days of Aristotle. But a true reform in logic must consist, not in explaining the syllogism in one way or another, but in doing away with all the narrow restrictions of the Aristotelian system, and in showing that there exists an infinite variety of logical arguments immediately deducible from the principle of substitution of which the ancient syllogism forms but a small and not even the most important part.

The Logic of Relatives.

There is a difficult and important branch of logic which may be called the Logic of Relatives. If I argue, for instance, that because Daniel Bernoulli was the son of John, and John the brother of James, therefore Daniel was the nephew of James, it is not possible to prove this conclusion by any simple logical process. We require at any rate to assume that the son of a brother is a nephew. A simple logical relation is that which exists between properties and circumstances of the same object or class. But objects and classes of objects may also be related according to all the properties of time and space. I believe it may be shown, indeed, that where an inference concerning such relations is drawn, a process of substitution is really employed and an identity must exist; but I will not undertake to prove the assertion in this work. The relations of time and space are logical relations of a complicated character demanding much abstract and difficult investigation. The subject has been treated with such great ability by Peirce,‍[41] De Morgan,‍[42] Ellis,‍[43] and Harley, that I will not in the present work attempt any review of their writings, but merely refer the reader to the publications in which they are to be found.

CHAPTER II.
TERMS.

Every proposition expresses the resemblance or difference of the things denoted by its terms. As inference treats of the relation between two or more propositions, so a proposition expresses a relation between two or more terms. In the portion of this work which treats of deduction it will be convenient to follow the usual order of exposition. We will consider in succession the various kinds of terms, propositions, and arguments, and we commence in this chapter with terms.

The simplest and most palpable meaning which can belong to a term consists of some single material object, such as Westminster Abbey, Stonehenge, the Sun, Sirius, &c. It is probable that in early stages of intellect only concrete and palpable things are the objects of thought. The youngest child knows the difference between a hot and a cold body. The dog can recognise his master among a hundred other persons, and animals of much lower intelligence know and discriminate their haunts. In all such acts there is judgment concerning the likeness of physical objects, but there is little or no power of analysing each object and regarding it as a group of qualities.

The dignity of intellect begins with the power of separating points of agreement from those of difference. Comparison of two objects may lead us to perceive that they are at once like and unlike. Two fragments of rock may differ entirely in outward form, yet they may have the same colour, hardness, and texture. Flowers which agree in colour may differ in odour. The mind learns to regard each object as an aggregate of qualities, and acquires the power of dwelling at will upon one or other of those qualities to the exclusion of the rest. Logical abstraction, in short, comes into play, and the mind becomes capable of reasoning, not merely about objects which are physically complete and concrete, but about things which may be thought of separately in the mind though they exist not separately in nature. We can think of the hardness of a rock, or the colour of a flower, and thus produce abstract notions, denoted by abstract terms, which will form a subject for further consideration.

At the same time arise general notions and classes of objects. We cannot fail to observe that the quality hardness exists in many objects, for instance in many fragments of rock; mentally joining these together, we create the class hard object, which will include, not only the actual objects examined, but all others which may happen to agree with them, as they agree with each other. As our senses cannot possibly report to us all the contents of space, we cannot usually set any limits to the number of objects which may fall into any such class. At this point we begin to perceive the power and generality of thought, which enables us in a single act to treat of indefinitely or even infinitely numerous objects. We can safely assert that whatever is true of any one object coming under a class is true of any of the other objects so far as they possess the common qualities implied in their belonging to the class. We must not place a thing in a class unless we are prepared to believe of it all that is believed of the class in general; but it remains a matter of important consideration to decide how far and in what manner we can safely undertake thus to assign the place of objects in that general system of classification which constitutes the body of science.

Twofold Meaning of General Names.

Etymologically the meaning of a name is that which we are caused to think of when the name is used. Now every general name causes us to think of some one or more of the objects belonging to a class; it may also cause us to think of the common qualities possessed by those objects. A name is said to denote the object of thought to which it may be applied; it implies at the same time the possession of certain qualities or circumstances. The objects denoted form the extent of meaning of the term; the qualities implied form the intent of meaning. Crystal is the name of any substance of which the molecules are arranged in a regular geometrical manner. The substances or objects in question form the extent of meaning; the circumstance of having the molecules so arranged forms the intent of meaning.

When we compare general terms together, it may often be found that the meaning of one is included in the meaning of another. Thus all crystals are included among material substances, and all opaque crystals are included among crystals; here the inclusion is in extension. We may also have inclusion of meaning in regard to intension. For, as all crystals are material substances, the qualities implied by the term material substance must be among those implied by crystal. Again, it is obvious that while in extension of meaning opaque crystals are but a part of crystals, in intension of meaning crystal is but part of opaque crystal. We increase the intent of meaning of a term by joining to it adjectives, or phrases equivalent to adjectives, and the removal of such adjectives of course decreases the intensive meaning. Now, concerning such changes of meaning, the following all-important law holds universally true:—When the intent of meaning of a term is increased the extent is decreased; and vice versâ, when the extent is increased the intent is decreased. In short, as one is increased the other is decreased.

This law refers only to logical changes. The number of steam-engines in the world may be undergoing a rapid increase without the intensive meaning of the name being altered. The law will only be verified, again, when there is a real change in the intensive meaning, and an adjective may often be joined to a noun without making a change. Elementary metal is identical with metal; mortal man with man; it being a property of all metals to be elements, and of all men to be mortals.

There is no limit to the amount of meaning which a term may have. A term may denote one object, or many, or an infinite number; it may imply a single quality, if such there be, or a group of any number of qualities, and yet the law connecting the extension and intension will infallibly apply. Taking the general name planet, we increase its intension and decrease its extension by prefixing the adjective exterior; and if we further add nearest to the earth, there remains but one planet, Mars, to which the name can then be applied. Singular terms, which denote a single individual only, come under the same law of meaning as general names. They may be regarded as general names of which the meaning in extension is reduced to a minimum. Logicians have erroneously asserted, as it seems to me, that singular terms are devoid of meaning in intension, the fact being that they exceed all other terms in that kind of meaning, as I have elsewhere tried to show.‍[44]

Abstract Terms.

Comparison of objects, and analysis of the complex resemblances and differences which they present, lead us to the conception of abstract qualities. We learn to think of one object as not only different from another, but as differing in some particular point, such as colour, or weight, or size. We may then convert points of agreement or difference into separate objects of thought which we call qualities and denote by abstract terms. Thus the term redness means something in which a number of objects agree as to colour, and in virtue of which they are called red. Redness forms, in fact, the intensive meaning of the term red.

Abstract terms are strongly distinguished from general terms by possessing only one kind of meaning; for as they denote qualities there is nothing which they cannot in addition imply. The adjective “red” is the name of red objects, but it implies the possession by them of the quality redness; but this latter term has one single meaning—the quality alone. Thus it arises that abstract terms are incapable of plurality. Red objects are numerically distinct each from each, and there are multitudes of such objects; but redness is a single quality which runs through all those objects, and is the same in one as it is in another. It is true that we may speak of rednesses, meaning different kinds or tints of redness, just as we may speak of colours, meaning different kinds of colours. But in distinguishing kinds, degrees, or other differences, we render the terms so far concrete. In that they are merely red there is but a single nature in red objects, and so far as things are merely coloured, colour is a single indivisible quality. Redness, so far as it is redness merely, is one and the same everywhere, and possesses absolute oneness. In virtue of this unity we acquire the power of treating all instances of such quality as we may treat any one. We possess, in short, general knowledge.

Substantial Terms.

Logicians appear to have taken little notice of a class of terms which partake in certain respects of the character of abstract terms and yet are undoubtedly the names of concrete existing things. These terms are the names of substances, such as gold, carbonate of lime, nitrogen, &c. We cannot speak of two golds, twenty carbonates of lime, or a hundred nitrogens. There is no such distinction between the parts of a uniform substance as will allow of a discrimination of numerous individuals. The qualities of colour, lustre, malleability, density, &c., by which we recognise gold, extend through its substance irrespective of particular size or shape. So far as a substance is gold, it is one and the same everywhere; so that terms of this kind, which I propose to call substantial terms, possess the peculiar unity of abstract terms. Yet they are not abstract; for gold is of course a tangible visible body, entirely concrete, and existing independently of other bodies.

It is only when, by actual mechanical division, we break up the uniform whole which forms the meaning of a substantial term, that we introduce number. Piece of gold is a term capable of plurality; for there may be a great many pieces discriminated either by their various shapes and sizes, or, in the absence of such marks, by simultaneously occupying different parts of space. In substance they are one; as regards the properties of space they are many.‍[45] We need not further pursue this question, which involves the distinction between unity and plurality, until we consider the principles of number in a subsequent chapter.

Collective Terms.

We must clearly distinguish between the collective and the general meanings of terms. The same name may be used to denote the whole body of existing objects of a certain kind, or any one of those objects taken separately. “Man” may mean the aggregate of existing men, which we sometimes describe as mankind; it is also the general name applying to any man. The vegetable kingdom is the name of the whole aggregate of plants, but “plant” itself is a general name applying to any one or other plant. Every material object may be conceived as divisible into parts, and is therefore collective as regards those parts. The animal body is made up of cells and fibres, a crystal of molecules; wherever physical division, or as it has been called partition, is possible, there we deal in reality with a collective whole. Thus the greater number of general terms are at the same time collective as regards each individual whole which they denote.

It need hardly be pointed out that we must not infer of a collective whole what we know only of the parts, nor of the parts what we know only of the whole. The relation of whole and part is not one of identity, and does not allow of substitution. There may nevertheless be qualities which are true alike of the whole and of its parts. A number of organ-pipes tuned in unison produce an aggregate of sound which is of exactly the same pitch as each separate sound. In the case of substantial terms, certain qualities may be present equally in each minutest part as in the whole. The chemical nature of the largest mass of pure carbonate of lime is the same as the nature of the smallest particle. In the case of abstract terms, again, we cannot draw a distinction between whole and part; what is true of redness in any case is always true of redness, so far as it is merely red.

Synthesis of Terms.

We continually combine simple terms together so as to form new terms of more complex meaning. Thus, to increase the intension of meaning of a term we write it with an adjective or a phrase of adjectival nature. By joining “brittle” to “metal,” we obtain a combined term, “brittle metal,” which denotes a certain portion of the metals, namely, such as are selected on account of possessing the quality of brittleness. As we have already seen, “brittle metal” possesses less extension and greater intension than metal. Nouns, prepositional phrases, participial phrases and subordinate propositions may also be added to terms so as to increase their intension and decrease their extension.

In our symbolic language we need some mode of indicating this junction of terms, and the most convenient device will be the juxtaposition of the letter-terms. Thus if A mean brittle, and B mean metal, then AB will mean brittle metal. Nor need there be any limit to the number of letters thus joined together, or the complexity of the notions which they may represent.

Thus if we take the letters

P = metal,
Q = white,
R = monovalent,
S = of specific gravity 10·5,
T = melting above 1000° C.,
V = good conductor of heat and electricity,

then we can form a combined term PQRSTV, which will denote “a white monovalent metal, of specific gravity 10·5, melting above 1000° C., and a good conductor of heat and electricity.”

There are many grammatical usages concerning the junction of words and phrases to which we need pay no attention in logic. We can never say in ordinary language “of wood table,” meaning “table of wood;” but we may consider “of wood” as logically an exact equivalent of “wooden”; so that if

X = of wood,
Y = table,

there is no reason why, in our symbols, XY should not be just as correct an expression for “table of wood ” as YX. In this case indeed we might substitute for “of wood ” the corresponding adjective “wooden,” but we should often fail to find any adjective answering exactly to a phrase. There is no single word by which we could express the notion “of specific gravity 10·5:” but logically we may consider these words as forming an adjective; and denoting this by S and metal by P, we may say that SP means “metal of specific gravity 10·5.” It is one of many advantages in these blank letter-symbols that they enable us completely to neglect all grammatical peculiarities and to fix our attention solely on the purely logical relations involved. Investigation will probably show that the rules of grammar are mainly founded upon traditional usage and have little logical signification. This indeed is sufficiently proved by the wide grammatical differences which exist between languages, though the logical foundation must be the same.

Symbolic Expression of the Law of Contradiction.

The synthesis of terms is subject to the all-important Law of Thought, described in a previous section (p. [5]) and called the Law of Contradiction, It is self-evident that no quality can be both present and absent at the same time and place. This fundamental condition of all thought and of all existence is expressed symbolically by a rule that a term and its negative shall never be allowed to come into combination. Such combined terms as Aa, Bb, Cc, &c., are self-contradictory and devoid of all intelligible meaning. If they could represent anything, it would be what cannot exist, and cannot even be imagined in the mind. They can therefore only enter into our consideration to suffer immediate exclusion. The criterion of false reasoning, as we shall find, is that it involves self-contradiction, the affirming and denying of the same statement. We might represent the object of all reasoning as the separation of the consistent and possible from the inconsistent and impossible; and we cannot make any statement except a truism without implying that certain combinations of terms are contradictory and excluded from thought. To assert that “all A’s are B’s” is equivalent to the assertion that “A’s which are not B’s cannot exist.”

It will be convenient to have the means of indicating the exclusion of the self-contradictory, and we may use the familiar sign for nothing, the cipher 0. Thus the second law of thought may be symbolised in the forms

Aa = 0  ABb = 0  ABCa = 0

We may variously describe the meaning of 0 in logic as the non-existent, the impossible, the self-inconsistent, the inconceivable. Close analogy exists between this meaning and its mathematical signification.

Certain Special Conditions of Logical Symbols.

In order that we may argue and infer truly we must treat our logical symbols according to the fundamental laws of Identity and Difference. But in thus using our symbols we shall frequently meet with combinations of which the meaning will not at first sight be apparent. If in one case we learn that an object is “yellow and round,” and in another case that it is “round and yellow,” there arises the question whether these two descriptions are identical in meaning or not. Again, if we proved that an object was “round round,” the meaning of such an expression would be open to doubt. Accordingly we must take notice, before proceeding further, of certain special laws which govern the combination of logical terms.

In the first place the combination of a logical term with itself is without effect, just as the repetition of a statement does not alter the meaning of the statement; “a round round object” is simply “a round object.” What is yellow yellow is merely yellow; metallic metals cannot differ from metals, nor circular circles from circles. In our symbolic language we may similarly hold that AA is identical with A, or

A = AA = AAA = &c.

The late Professor Boole is the only logician in modern times who has drawn attention to this remarkable property of logical terms;‍[46] but in place of the name which he gave to the law, I have proposed to call it The Law of Simplicity.‍[47] Its high importance will only become apparent when we attempt to determine the relations of logical and mathematical science. Two symbols of quantity, and only two, seem to obey this law; we may say that 1 × 1 = 1, and 0 × 0 = 0 (taking 0 to mean absolute zero or 1 – 1); there is apparently no other number which combined with itself gives an unchanged result. I shall point out, however, in the chapter upon Number, that in reality all numerical symbols obey this logical principle.

It is curious that this Law of Simplicity, though almost unnoticed in modern times, was known to Boëthius, who makes a singular remark in his treatise De Trinitate et Unitate Dei (p. 959). He says: “If I should say sun, sun, sun, I should not have made three suns, but I should have named one sun so many times.”‍[48] Ancient discussions about the doctrine of the Trinity drew more attention to subtle questions concerning the nature of unity and plurality than has ever since been given to them.

It is a second law of logical symbols that order of combination is a matter of indifference. “Rich and rare gems” are the same as “rare and rich gems,” or even as “gems, rich and rare.” Grammatical, rhetorical, or poetic usage may give considerable significance to order of expression. The limited power of our minds prevents our grasping many ideas at once, and thus the order of statement may produce some effect, but not in a simply logical manner. All life proceeds in the succession of time, and we are obliged to write, speak, or even think of things and their qualities one after the other; but between the things and their qualities there need be no such relation of order in time or space. The sweetness of sugar is neither before nor after its weight and solubility. The hardness of a metal, its colour, weight, opacity, malleability, electric and chemical properties, are all coexistent and coextensive, pervading the metal and every part of it in perfect community, none before nor after the others. In our words and symbols we cannot observe this natural condition; we must name one quality first and another second, just as some one must be the first to sign a petition, or to walk foremost in a procession. In nature there is no such precedence.

I find that the opinion here stated, to the effect that relations of space and time do not apply to many of our ideas, is clearly adopted by Hume in his celebrated Treatise on Human Nature (vol. i. p. 410). He says:‍[49]—“An object may be said to be no where, when its parts are not so situated with respect to each other, as to form any figure or quantity; nor the whole with respect to other bodies so as to answer to our notions of contiguity or distance. Now this is evidently the case with all our perceptions and objects, except those of sight and feeling. A moral reflection cannot be placed on the right hand or on the left hand of a passion, nor can a smell or sound be either of a circular or a square figure. These objects and perceptions, so far from requiring any particular place, are absolutely incompatible with it, and even the imagination cannot attribute it to them.”

A little reflection will show that knowledge in the highest perfection would consist in the simultaneous possession of a multitude of facts. To comprehend a science perfectly we should have every fact present with every other fact. We must write a book and we must read it successively word by word, but how infinitely higher would be our powers of thought if we could grasp the whole in one collective act of consciousness! Compared with the brutes we do possess some slight approximation to such power, and it is conceivable that in the indefinite future mind may acquire an increase of capacity, and be less restricted to the piecemeal examination of a subject. But I wish here to make plain that there is no logical foundation for the successive character of thought and reasoning unavoidable under our present mental conditions. We are logically weak and imperfect in respect of the fact that we are obliged to think of one thing after another. We must describe metal as “hard and opaque,” or “opaque and hard,” but in the metal itself there is no such difference of order; the properties are simultaneous and coextensive in existence.

Setting aside all grammatical peculiarities which render a substantive less moveable than an adjective, and disregarding any meaning indicated by emphasis or marked order of words, we may state, as a general law of logic, that AB is identical with BA, or AB = BA. Similarly, ABC = ACB = BCA = &c.

Boole first drew attention in recent years to this property of logical terms, and he called it the property of Commutativeness.‍[50] He not only stated the law with the utmost clearness, but pointed out that it is a Law of Thought rather than a Law of Things. I shall have in various parts of this work to show how the necessary imperfection of our symbols expressed in this law clings to our modes of expression, and introduces complication into the whole body of mathematical formulæ, which are really founded on a logical basis.

It is of course apparent that the power of commutation belongs only to terms related in the simple logical mode of synthesis. No one can confuse “a house of bricks” with “bricks of a house,” “twelve square feet” with “twelve feet square,” “the water of crystallization” with “the crystallization of water.” All relations which involve differences of time and space are inconvertible; the higher must not be made to change places with the lower, nor the first with the last. For the parties concerned there is all the difference in the world between A killing B and B killing A. The law of commutativeness simply asserts that difference of order does not attach to the connection between the properties and circumstances of a thing—to what I call simple logical relation.

CHAPTER III.
PROPOSITIONS.

We now proceed to consider the variety of forms of propositions in which the truths of science must be expressed. I shall endeavour to show that, however diverse these forms may be, they all admit the application of the one same principle of inference that what is true of a thing is true of the like or same. This principle holds true whatever be the kind or manner of the likeness, provided proper regard be had to its nature. Propositions may assert an identity of time, space, manner, quantity, degree, or any other circumstance in which things may agree or differ.

We find an instance of a proposition concerning time in the following:—“The year in which Newton was born, was the year in which Galileo died.” This proposition expresses an approximate identity of time between two events; hence whatever is true of the year in which Galileo died is true of that in which Newton was born, and vice versâ. “Tower Hill is the place where Raleigh was executed” expresses an identity of place; and whatever is true of the one spot is true of the spot otherwise defined, but in reality the same. In ordinary language we have many propositions obscurely expressing identities of number, quantity, or degree. “So many men, so many minds,” is a proposition concerning number, that is to say, an equation; whatever is true of the number of men is true of the number of minds, and vice versâ. “The density of Mars is (nearly) the same as that of the Earth,” “The force of gravity is directly as the product of the masses, and inversely as the square of the distance,” are propositions concerning magnitude or degree. Logicians have not paid adequate attention to the great variety of propositions which can be stated by the use of the little conjunction as, together with so. “As the home so the people,” is a proposition expressing identity of manner; and a great number of similar propositions all indicating some kind of resemblance might be quoted. Whatever be the special kind of identity, all such expressions are subject to the great principle of inference; but as we shall in later parts of this work treat more particularly of inference in cases of number and magnitude, we will here confine our attention to logical propositions which involve only notions of quality.

Simple Identities.

The most important class of propositions consists of those which fall under the formula

A = B,

and may be called simple identities. I may instance, in the first place, those most elementary propositions which express the exact similarity of a quality encountered in two or more objects. I may compare the colour of the Pacific Ocean with that of the Atlantic, and declare them identical. I may assert that “the smell of a rotten egg is like that of hydrogen sulphide;” “the taste of silver hyposulphite is like that of cane sugar;” “the sound of an earthquake resembles that of distant artillery.” Such are propositions stating, accurately or otherwise, the identity of simple physical sensations. Judgments of this kind are necessarily pre-supposed in more complex judgments. If I declare that “this coin is made of gold,” I must base the judgment upon the exact likeness of the substance in several qualities to other pieces of substance which are undoubtedly gold. I must make judgments of the colour, the specific gravity, the hardness, and of other mechanical and chemical properties; each of these judgments is expressed in an elementary proposition, “the colour of this coin is the colour of gold,” and so on. Even when we establish the identity of a thing with itself under a different name or aspect, it is by distinct judgments concerning single circumstances. To prove that the Homeric χαλκός is copper we must show the identity of each quality recorded of χαλκός with a quality of copper. To establish Deal as the landing-place of Cæsar all material circumstances must be shown to agree. If the modern Wroxeter is the ancient Uriconium, there must be the like agreement of all features of the country not subject to alteration by time.

Such identities must be expressed in the form A = B. We may say

Colour of Pacific Ocean = Colour of Atlantic Ocean.

Smell of rotten egg = Smell of hydrogen sulphide.

In these and similar propositions we assert identity of single qualities or causes of sensation. In the same form we may also express identity of any group of qualities, as in

χαλκός = Copper.
Deal = Landing-place of Cæsar.

A multitude of propositions involving singular terms fall into the same form, as in

The Pole star = The slowest-moving star.

Jupiter = The greatest of the planets.

The ringed planet = The planet having seven satellites.

The Queen of England = The Empress of India.

The number two = The even prime number.

In mathematical and scientific theories we often meet with simple identities capable of expression in the same form. Thus in mechanical science “The process for finding the resultant of forces = the process for finding the resultant of simultaneous velocities.” Theorems in geometry often give results in this form, as

Equilateral triangles = Equiangular triangles.

Circle = Finite plane curve of constant curvature.

Circle = Curve of least perimeter.

The more profound and important laws of nature are often expressible in the form of simple identities; in addition to some instances which have already been given, I may suggest,

Crystals of cubical system = Crystals not possessing the power of double refraction.

All definitions are necessarily of this form, whether the objects defined be many, few, or singular. Thus we may say,

Common salt = Sodium chloride.

Chlorophyl = Green colouring matter of leaves.

Square = Equal-sided rectangle.

It is an extraordinary fact that propositions of this elementary form, all-important and very numerous as they are, had no recognised place in Aristotle’s system of Logic. Accordingly their importance was overlooked until very recent times, and logic was the most deformed of sciences. But it is impossible that Aristotle or any other person should avoid constantly using them; not a term could be defined without their use. In one place at least Aristotle actually notices a proposition of the kind. He observes: “We sometimes say that that white thing is Socrates, or that the object approaching is Callias.”‍[51] Here we certainly have simple identity of terms; but he considered such propositions purely accidental, and came to the unfortunate conclusion, that “Singulars cannot be predicated of other terms.”

Propositions may also express the identity of extensive groups of objects taken collectively or in one connected whole; as when we say,

The Queen, Lords, and Commons = The Legislature of the United Kingdom.

When Blackstone asserts that “The only true and natural foundation of society are the wants and fears of individuals,” we must interpret him as meaning that the whole of the wants and fears of individuals in the aggregate form the foundation of society. But many propositions which might seem to be collective are but groups of singular propositions or identities. When we say “Potassium and sodium are the metallic bases of potash and soda,” we obviously mean,

Potassium = Metallic base of potash;
Sodium = Metallic base of soda.

It is the work of grammatical analysis to separate the various propositions often combined into a single sentence. Logic cannot be properly required to interpret the forms and devices of language, but only to treat the meaning when clearly exhibited.

Partial Identities.

A second highly important kind of proposition is that which I propose to call a partial identity. When we say that “All mammalia are vertebrata,” we do not mean that mammalian animals are identical with vertebrate animals, but only that the mammalia form a part of the class vertebrata. Such a proposition was regarded in the old logic as asserting the inclusion of one class in another, or of an object in a class. It was called a universal affirmative proposition, because the attribute vertebrate was affirmed of the whole subject mammalia; but the attribute was said to be undistributed, because not all vertebrata were of necessity involved in the proposition. Aristotle, overlooking the importance of simple identities, and indeed almost denying their existence, unfortunately founded his system upon the notion of inclusion in a class, instead of adopting the basis of identity. He regarded inference as resting upon the rule that what is true of the containing class is true of the contained, in place of the vastly more general rule that what is true of a class or thing is true of the like. Thus he not only reduced logic to a fragment of its proper self, but destroyed the deep analogies which bind together logical and mathematical reasoning. Hence a crowd of defects, difficulties and errors which will long disfigure the first and simplest of the sciences.

It is surely evident that the relation of inclusion rests upon the relation of identity. Mammalian animals cannot be included among vertebrates unless they be identical with part of the vertebrates. Cabinet Ministers are included almost always in the class Members of Parliament, because they are identical with some who sit in Parliament. We may indicate this identity with a part of the larger class in various ways; as for instance,

Mammalia = part of the vertebrata.
Diatomaceæ = a class of plants.

Cabinet Ministers = some members of Parliament.

In ordinary language the verbs is and are express mere inclusion more often than not. Men are mortals, means that men form a part of the class mortal; but great confusion exists between this sense of the verb and that in which it expresses identity, as in “The sun is the centre of the planetary system.” The introduction of the indefinite article a often expresses partiality; when we say “Iron is a metal” we clearly mean that iron is one only of several metals.

Certain recent logicians have proposed to avoid the indefiniteness in question by what is called the Quantification of the Predicate, and they have generally used the little word some to show that only a part of the predicate is identical with the subject. Some is an indeterminate adjective; it implies unknown qualities by which we might select the part in question if the qualities were known, but it gives no hint as to their nature. I might make use of such an indeterminate sign to express partial identities in this work. Thus, taking the special symbol V = Some, the general form of a partial identity would be A = VB, and in Boole’s Logic expressions of the kind were much used. But I believe that indeterminate symbols only introduce complexity, and destroy the beauty and simple universality of the system which may be created without their use. A vague word like some is only used in ordinary language by ellipsis, and to avoid the trouble of attaining accuracy. We can always employ more definite expressions if we like; but when once the indefinite some is introduced we cannot replace it by the special description. We do not know whether some colour is red, yellow, blue, or what it is; but on the other hand red colour is certainly some colour.

Throughout this system of logic I shall dispense with such indefinite expressions; and this can readily be done by substituting one of the other terms. To express the proposition “All A’s are some B’s” I shall not use the form A = VB, but

A = AB.

This formula states that the class A is identical with the class AB; and as the latter must be a part at least of the class B, it implies the inclusion of the class A in that of B. We might represent our former example thus,

Mammalia = Mammalian vertebrata.

This proposition asserts identity between a part (or it may be the whole) of the vertebrata and the mammalia. If it is asked What part? the proposition affords no answer, except that it is the part which is mammalian; but the assertion “mammalia = some vertebrata” tells us no more.

It is quite likely that some readers will think this mode of representing the universal affirmative proposition artificial and complicated. I will not undertake to convince them of the opposite at this point of my exposition. Justification for it will be found, not so much in the immediate treatment of this proposition, as in the general harmony which it will enable us to disclose between all parts of reasoning. I have no doubt that this is the critical difficulty in the relation of logical to other forms of reasoning. Grant this mode of denoting that “all A’s are B’s,” and I fear no further difficulties; refuse it, and we find want of analogy and endless anomaly in every direction. It is on general grounds that I hope to show overwhelming reasons for seeking to reduce every kind of proposition to the form of an identity.

I may add that not a few logicians have accepted this view of the universal affirmative proposition. Leibnitz, in his Difficultates Quædam Logicæ, adopts it, saying, “Omne A est B; id est æquivalent AB et A, seu A non B est nonens.” Boole employed the logical equation x = xy concurrently with x = vy; and Spalding‍[52] distinctly says that the proposition “all metals are minerals” might be described as an assertion of partial identity between the two classes. Hence the name which I have adopted for the proposition.

Limited Identities.

An important class of propositions have the form

AB = AC,

expressing the identity of the class AB with the class AC. In other words, “Within the sphere of the class A, all the B’s are all the C’s;” or again, “The B’s and C’s, which are A’s, are identical.” But it will be observed that nothing is asserted concerning things which are outside of the class A; and thus the identity is of limited extent. It is the proposition B = C limited to the sphere of things called A. Thus we may say, with some approximation to truth, that “Large plants are plants devoid of locomotive power.”

A barrister may make numbers of most general statements concerning the relations of persons and things in the course of an argument, but it is of course to be understood that he speaks only of persons and things under the English Law. Even mathematicians make statements which are not true with absolute generality. They say that imaginary roots enter into equations by pairs; but this is only true under the tacit condition that the equations in question shall not have imaginary coefficients.‍[53] The universe, in short, within which they habitually discourse is that of equations with real coefficients. These implied limitations form part of that great mass of tacit knowledge which accompanies all special arguments.

To De Morgan is due the remark, that we do usually think and argue in a limited universe or sphere of notions, even when it is not expressly stated.‍[54]

It is worthy of inquiry whether all identities are not really limited to an implied sphere of meaning. When we make such a plain statement as “Gold is malleable” we obviously speak of gold only in its solid state; when we say that “Mercury is a liquid metal” we must be understood to exclude the frozen condition to which it may be reduced in the Arctic regions. Even when we take such a fundamental law of nature as “All substances gravitate,” we must mean by substance, material substance, not including that basis of heat, light, and electrical undulations which occupies space and possesses many wonderful mechanical properties, but not gravity. The proposition then is really of the form

Material substance = Material gravitating substance.

Negative Propositions.

In every act of intellect we are engaged with a certain identity or difference between things or sensations compared together. Hitherto I have treated only of identities; and yet it might seem that the relation of difference must be infinitely more common than that of likeness. One thing may resemble a great many other things, but then it differs from all remaining things in the world. Diversity may almost be said to constitute life, being to thought what motion is to a river. The perception of an object involves its discrimination from all other objects. But we may nevertheless be said to detect resemblance as often as we detect difference. We cannot, in fact, assert the existence of a difference, without at the same time implying the existence of an agreement.

If I compare mercury, for instance, with other metals, and decide that it is not solid, here is a difference between mercury and solid things, expressed in a negative proposition; but there must be implied, at the same time, an agreement between mercury and the other substances which are not solid. As it is impossible to separate the vowels of the alphabet from the consonants without at the same time separating the consonants from the vowels, so I cannot select as the object of thought solid things, without thereby throwing together into another class all things which are not solid. The very fact of not possessing a quality, constitutes a new quality which may be the ground of judgment and classification. In this point of view, agreement and difference are ever the two sides of the same act of intellect, and it becomes equally possible to express the same judgment in the one or other aspect.

Between affirmation and negation there is accordingly a perfect equilibrium. Every affirmative proposition implies a negative one, and vice versâ. It is even a matter of indifference, in a logical point of view, whether a positive or negative term be used to denote a given quality and the class of things possessing it. If the ordinary state of a man’s body be called good health, then in other circumstances he is said not to be in good health; but we might equally describe him in the latter state as sickly, and in his normal condition he would be not sickly. Animal and vegetable substances are now called organic, so that the other substances, forming an immensely greater part of the globe, are described negatively as inorganic. But we might, with at least equal logical correctness, have described the preponderating class of substances as mineral, and then vegetable and animal substances would have been non-mineral.

It is plain that any positive term and its corresponding negative divide between them the whole universe of thought: whatever does not fall into one must fall into the other, by the third fundamental Law of Thought, the Law of Duality. It follows at once that there are two modes of representing a difference. Supposing that the things represented by A and B are found to differ, we may indicate (see p. [17]) the result of the judgment by the notation