* Letter xviii.** Fireside Education, p. 89.*** Essay on Truth, p. 105.
Though it is so abundantly obvious that the evidences of our senses, internal and external, are, in effect, the sources of all certainty, yet we are not warranted in rejecting, as mere hypothesis, every theory which we cannot at once corroborate. When Euler remarked of his new law of arches, 'This will be found true, though contrary to all experience'—when Gall exclaimed of his new philosophy of the sensorium, 'This is true, though opposed to the philosophy of ages'—they expressed demonstrable truths hidden from the multitude. They announced new generalisations to man. New truths are commonly found to be old unnoted experiences, for the first time subjected to classification, and presented in a scientific form.
To me it seems almost in vain to urge men to notice facts who have never noticed themselves. The truest standards of certainty arise from individuality of retrospection. An intelligent man is, himself to himself, the measure of all things in the universe.
In appealing to the young on the aspiration after improvement, one cannot say 'Consult your aptitudes—follow your bias.' This Is the sole appeal-injunctive to which all natures can respond. But in this half-natured, half-trained, doubtfully-conditioned state of society, though the generous would be incited to noble deeds, the sordid would lay their vulture claws on the world, and the unprincipled victimise their fellows. You have, therefore, to say, 'Man, do what thou listest, provided it be compatible with the welfare of thy fellow men.' Men are not well-natured, and we have thus to guard individuality, and qualify the appeal, and so we miss the soil of great enterprise. Great is the disadvantage. For the fulcrum which is to raise men is without their natures—remote in the wide world.
Man should begin with himself. He loves Truth—it is the first impulse of his nature. He loves Justice—the bandit on the throne, as well as the bandit in the forest, respects justice in some form or other. Man loves Cheerfulness—it is the attribute of innocence and courage. He loves Fraternity—it knits society together in brotherhood. These are standards. His codes of life and judgment arise from these aspirations. That which accords with these principles isreasonable. Whatever develops these principles in conduct ismoral. These sentiments are to be confirmed by his own observations. His experience in connection with these rules is the right with which he may examine religions, creeds, books, systems, opinions.
The right understanding of physical and moral facts greatly depends upon intellectual character—and there enters largely into the recondite and ultimate inquiries of intelligent men another class of facts, called mental facts. There is no chance of identifying these without the power of self-analysis, which is one reason why metaphysic ability belongs to so few, and why questions involving metaphysical considerations are such profound enigmas to the majority of the people. The illiterate in these things are easily led or misled by words. They who will not bow before a throne fall prostrate before a sound.
The first principles of things are few. The axioms from which men date their reasoning are chiefly personal. They are expressed in an infinite variety of ways, occasioned by the various conceptions of those who conceive them, and by the different capacities to which they are adapted when offered for the instruction and guidance of others. But this must not mislead us as to the number, and overwhelm us with a sense of complexity, where in fact simplicity reigns. Those who have the power of self-analysis make for themselves rules of conduct, and the best are originated in this way—for when a man recasts his acquirements of sense and education, in order to see on what all rests, and what are essential standards of action and judgment, he resolves all into few, and those the clear and strong. Rob Roy's self-examination paper is presented to us in those lines which Sir Walter Scott, with grace and justice, characterised as the 'high-toned poetry of his gifted friend Wordsworth.'
Say, then, that he was wise as brave,As wise in thought as bold in deed;For in the principles of thingsHe sought his morai creed.Said generous Rob, 'What need of Books?Burn all the statutes and their shelves!They stir us up against our kind,And worse, against ourselves.We have a passion, make a law,Too false to guide us or control;And for the law itself we fightIn bitterness of soul.And puzzled, blinded, then we loseDistinctions that are plain and few;These find I graven on my heart,That tells me what to do.
Sir Walter Scott himself has enforced the same views:—'How much do I need such a monitor,' said Waverley to Flora. 'A better one by far Mr. Waverley will always find in his own bosom, when he will give its still small voice leisure to be heard.
All that hath been majesticalIn life or death, since time began,Is native in the simple heart of all,—The angel heart of man.—Lowell.
To awaken the senses and instruct them and direct them aright in the art of observation, is a great and essential undertaking. All scattered aids need collecting together. De la Beche in 'Geology,' and Miss Martineau have written books, entitled 'How to Observe.' This quality is the distinction between the natural and artificial man—the natural man observes what is in nature—the artificial notes what he finds in books—the one depends on himself—the other on an encyclopaedia. We want contrast, in order to know as well as to explain. Foreigners observe us better than we observe ourselves. The common escapes our attention. To know a fact fully we seek its opposite to compare it with.
Were men reared with the powers of men without the genius of the child being impaired, the ability to observe would be more general and perfect among us. Children stop at everything to question its nature, at every word to ask its import. It was the aim of Pestalozzi to cultivate by his system of tuition this incessant questioning. But parents among the poor know not the value of the habit, or knowing it have not time to gratify it, and thus this happiest aptitude of childhood is repressed.
With regard to the analysis of groups of facts, Mr. J. S. Mill remarks—'The observer is not he who merely sees the thing before his eyes, but he who sees what parts that thing is composed of. To do this well is a rare talent. One person from inattention, or attending only in the wrong place, overlooks half of what he sees; another sets down much more than he sees, confounding it with what he imagines, or with what he infers $ another takes note of the kind of all the circumstances, but being inexpert in estimating their degree, leaves the quantity of each vague and uncertain; another sees indeed the whole, but makes such an awkward division of it into parts, throwing things into one mass which require to be separated, and separating others which might more conveniently be considered as one, that the result is much the same, sometimes even worse, than if no analysis had been attempted at all.'*
* Logic, vol. 1, p. 438.
In the case of the Leigh Peerage there was a number of witnesses examined in the House of Lords, as to the existence of a certain monument in Stonely Church—'The first witness described the monument as being black; the second spoke of it as a kind of dove-colour; the third said it was black and white; the fourth said it was originally white, but dirty, when he saw it; the fifth differing from the others, said it was blue; the next witness described it as a light marble, but said it had a dark appearance as if it had been bronzed, and the last witness spoke of it as feeing of a light grey colour. Then, as to the form of the monument, the first witness said it was oblong; the next said it was square at the top, and came down narrower to the bottom, and there rested on a single truss; the third witness described it as being square at the bottom, testing upon two trusses; and went up narrower and narrower to a point at the top; the fourth witness said it was angular at the top; the next said it was square at the bottom, was brought to a point in the middle, and was then curved into a sort of festoon; the sixth witness stated that it was square at the top and bottom, and had a curve; and the last said it was square at the top and bottom. As to the language of the inscriptions, the first witness stated that the names ofThomasandChristopher Leighwere in English; the next said the inscription was not in English; the third said there was a great deal in English; the fourth witness said the whole, (with the exception of the name Christopher Lee), was in a language, which he did not understand; the next witness stated that the inscription was all in English, except the wordsAnno Domini; and the last witness said it was not in English.'*
* Times, May 10, 1828.
All these witnesses agree as to the fact in dispute, but their variances in testimony illustrate the common inattention of observation—and this case farther admonishes us that if such differences may exist as to a question of fact, where the senses are the same, little wonder that differences exist as to matters of opinion, where intellectual capacity and information are so various.
We know from experience that the sportsman sees a point which is hidden from the unpractised aimer—the painter sees traits of character of light and shade in an object which the untaught limner never observes; the musician distinguishes harmonies and discords that fall unnoted on the uneducated ear.
Thus we learn that by cultivation we can increase natural susceptibility to observe.
The extent is surprising to which the unanalytic are in ignorance of the real nature of phenomena. 'There is nothing which we appear to ourselves more directly conscious of, than the distance of an object from us. Yet it has long been ascertained, that what is perceived by the eye, is at most nothing more than a variously coloured surface; that when we fancy we see distance, all we really see is certain variation of apparent size, and more or less faintness of colour.'*
In preparing to support an argument on any question, we must first determine the sources whence the facts are to be collected. Instance: The objects of municipal laws are rights and crimes.
The evidence of rights are:— 1. Public consent.2. Testimony.3. Records.
The evidence of crimes are:— 1. Confession.2. Previous malice.3. Testimony.
This outline of the investigation prosecuted, the inquirer next consults the authors who treat of the rules which are applied for determining the facts of public consent, testimony, records, confessions: he is then able to support his own argument in a valid manner, or prepared to examine the facts offered by an opponent in support of an opposite view.
The opinion may be hazarded that it is not so much from want of capacity to observe that error arises, as from the want of conviction that we should observe well before we attempt to infer. Nature is inventive, and desire, once awakened, will, without formal rules, find out a thousand modes of gratification. The foundation for a soldier logic than now prevails will be laid when the people are impressed with the great importance of looking well to facts as the data of all inferential truth.
There is a noted aphorism of Cendillac, to the effect that the one sufficient rule for discovering the nature and properties of objects is to name them properly, as if, observes Mr. J. S. Mill, 'the reverse was not the truth, that it is impossible to name them properly except in proportion as we are already acquainted with their nature and properties.' Need it be added that this knowledge is only to be had by patient observation?
* Mill Logic vol. l, p.7.
To assist this habit, Dr. Watts recommends the thinker to ascertain if a given idea is clear and distinct, obscure and confused, learned or vulgar, perfect or imperfect, adequate or inadequate—true or false. 'View a subject, says he, as through a telescope, so as to command a clear view of it; examine its whole bearings as you look over a globe; consider it in its several properties—anatomise it as with a scalpel. Take cognizance of its various aspects as though inspecting it through a prismatic glass. Whenever we contemplate a single object in nature is obvious it must have duration, size, weight, form, colour, such qualities being essentially present in all adequate conceptions of physical phenomena.'
It was objected to the 'Cricket' of Mr. Dickens, that his delineation of Bertha was wanting in truthfulness. The teachers of the blind who knew their nature could detect the departure from the reality of their habits in the sketch of Bertha. The study of the blind was necessary to insure success. We may not be able in any one book to give rules for the study of all subjects, but we may indicate that we ought not to speak of what we do not know, and that if we mean to introduce certain facts into our speech or writing, we should consult the records and experienee of those persons who are known to have written upon the subject, and follow the best directions they give, and we shall generally attain accuracy.
Mr. Combe observes, in his introduction to his notes on the United States of North America, p. xi.—'I was told that acertain personboasts of having given Miss Martineau erroneous information for the purpose of leading her into mistakes; and another in Philadelphia assures his friends that he "crammed" Capt. Marryatt with old "Joe Millers," which the Capt. embodied into his books as facts illustrative of American manners. This seems to be a case in which some uncertainty must ever exist as to the value of the facts collected by travellers. They cannot observe all, or test half that they do observe. They must rely on testimony. But they might do this—They might tell us precisely the kind of authority they followed, and then the reader could form some opinion of the value of what was communicated. Had Miss Martineau and Captain Marryatt given the name and addresses of their informants, the latter would now be punished by being infamously known throughout Europe; and all future travellers warned from them—and all future informants warned by their example. Where informants cannot be mentioned by name and address, the chances are, they cannot be trusted. When first connected with public proceedings, I found myself made the depository of innumerable bits of scandal, and ominous reports of public characters. To all who told me anything, if I attached importance to it, I made it a rule to ask—'May I mention it to the party with your name?' 'O, no, I would rather not,' was the common reply. To all written communications answer—'Please add your name and address—and may I publish them if occasion requires?' 'O, no, don't,' would be the general injunction. Thus I found that huge reports, inflated as balloons, shrunk like them when pricked by the pin of a question—'Will you answer for it?' Thus I saved myself from being imposed upon by, or being the retailer of, reports for which the originator or relator would not or could not vouch.
'Upwards of twenty years ago,' says George Combe, 'I accompanied a member of the bar of Paris, a philosopher and a man of letters, on a visit to the Highlands of Scotland. At Callendar a boy of twelve or thirteen years of age attended as a guide to some interesting spot, and in external appearance he seemed to be in every respect one of the common lads of the village. My Parisian friend entered into conversation with him; asked him if he had been at school, and soon discovered that to a tolerable acquaintance with the Greek and Latin languages, he added a pretty extensive-knowledge of arithmetic and geography, and was then engaged in the study of mathematics. My friend conceived that the boy was an average specimen of the peasantry of the country; and greatly admired the educational attainments of the Scotch people, which he had previously heard highly extolled. But,' adds Mr. Combe, 'the boy was the natural son of an English officer, who had resided in the neighbourhood, and who, while he ordered him to be reared in the hardy habits of the Scottish Highlanders, had provided ample funds for his mental education.'*
* Intro, to notes on United States of North America, p. 10.,vol. 1
It is difficult to believe in this Frenchman being a 'philosopher, making, as he did, a national induction from a single instance. Had he previously inquired, as he ought to have done, the particulars of that lad's life and rearing, before coming to so large a conclusion, he would at once have discovered the error he was falling into.
In the Registrar General's Report of 1840, the mean of married persons unable to write is presented. The conclusion is based upon the statistics of nine counties. But when it was found that only three per cent, of the persons marriageable, did marry, the datum was found insufficient to afford sure results. This fact; is given by Mr. Combe in the same book. Then how many boys ought our 'philosopher' to have questioned before making his vast inference?
Another instance of the value of a question I extract from the same work. Mr. Combe says:—'A few years ago, when travelling in Somersetshire, I saw four horses, attended by two men, drawing a light plough in a light soil. "What a waste of labour is here," said I to an intelligent farmer; "in Scotland, two horses and one man will accomplish this work." "We rear and train young horses for the London market," said he; "two of the four which you see are serving an apprenticeship to labour."' Had Mr. Combe asked a few questions as to the correctness of his assumed inference, he would have been saved from his erroneous conclusion. We should be wary of unquestioned data.
When Murray's Grammar was first placed in my hands, I found in it certain references to the Canons of Language in the larger edition. I questioned my teacher as to what it meant. 'It is a trick of the printer,' he answered, 'to induce you to buy the larger volume.' I do not believe this now. I believe that it was a necessary reference. An author who has written upon a given subject, naturally finds his own ideas coincident illustrations of his views, and honestly refers to them. In this book I have made a few references to previous works of mine, and it has struck me that nine ont of ten of the readers will set this down to artifice or egotism. Yet it is neither. I have referred only to avoid the full quotation of some necessary illustration of the argument. Yet few will penetrate to the fact, and most will be apt to infer a trick from appearances.
Whatever we know must be in the number of the primitivedata, or of the conclusions which can be drawn therefrom.—J.S. Mill
To have reached, in the study of observed phenomena, the point of perception indicated in this motto, and to feel the full force of the remark, is to have imbibed the spirit of science—-whose traits are dear distinctions, accurate classification, and strict reference to primitive data. The bases of all science are methodical facts. The first step to the perfection and enlargement of a science is the resolution of its propositions into axioms, and into propositions which are to be proved. Dr. Reid observes—'This has been done in mathematics from the beginning, and has tended greatly to the emolument of that science. It has lately been done in natural philosophy, and by this means that science has advanced more in 160 years than it had done before in 2,000. Every science is in an unformed state until its first principles are ascertained; after this it advances regularly, and secures the ground it has gained.'
Classification is one of the first steps to Science. The maxim in government, divide and conquer, retains, when applied to science, all its wisdom without its machiavelialism. The young grammarian reduces the mass of words, that so threaten to confound his powers, to a few natural classes, and he conquers them separately with ease.
'The single power by which we discover resemblance or relation in general, is a sufficient aid to us in the perplexity and confusion of our first attempts at arrangement. It begins by converting thousands, and more than thousands, into one; and, reducing in the same manner the numbers tiros formed, it arrives at last at the few distinctive characters of those great comprehensive tribes, on which it ceases to operate, 'because there is nothing left to oppress the memory or the understanding.'*
* Brown's Moral Philosophy, Lect, xvi.
Merell has spoken more comprehensively on this subject—'That human knowledge dees not consist in the bare collection and enumeration of facts; this alone would be of little service were we net to attempt the classification of them, and to educe from such classification general laws and principles. The knowledge, which consists in individual truths, could never be either extensive ear definite—for the multiplicity of objects which then must crowd in upon the mind only tends to confound and perplex it, while the memory, overburdened with particulars, is not able to retain a hundredth part of the materials which are collected. To prevent this, the power el generalisation comes to our aid, by which the individual facts are so classified under their proper conceptions, that they may at the same time be more easily retained, and their several relations to all other branches of knowledge accurately defined. The colligation and classification of facts, then, we may regard as the two first steps, which are to be taken in the attainment of truth.'*
Aristotle, says Morell, classified thematter, Kant theforms. Aristotle was the first man who undertook the gigantic task of reducing the multiplicity of all the objects of human knowledge to a few general heads—-1. Substance. 2. Quality. 3. Quantity. 4. Relation. Action. 6. Passion. 7. Place. 8. Time. 9. Posture. 10. Habit. Aristotle's philosophy wasobjective, Kant'ssubjective. Kant's categories were twelve. 1. Unity. 2. Plurality. 3. Totality. 4. Affirmation. Negation. 6. limitation. 7. Substance. 8. Casualty. 9. Reciprocity. 10. Possibility. 11. Actuality. 12. Necessity.
'It is a fundamental principle in logic, that the power of framing classes is unlimited as long as there is any (even the smallest) difference to found a distinction upon.**
What Geoffroy Saint Hilaire has said of natural history is applicable to all science:—'The first problem to be solved by him who wishes to penetrate deeply into this; study, consists evidently in the formation of clear and precise distinctions between the various brings. This is the most elementary problem, in so-far as it precedes all the others; but it is in reality, in most cases, complicated and full of difficulties. Its accurate solution requires—first,Observation, which makes known the facts; next,Description, which fixes them permanently; thenCharacterisation, which selects and displays prominently the most important of them—and lastly,Classification, which arranges them in systematic order.'***
Of the value of classification, Lamartine has given a fine illustration:——'Montesquieu had sounded the institutions and analysed the laws of all people. Byclassinggovernments he had compared them, by comparing them he passed judgment on them; and this judgment brought out, in its bold relief and contrast, on every page, right and force, privilege and equality, tyranny and liberty.'****
* Morell's Hist. of Speculative Phil., p. 34, vol. 1.** Mill, p. 165, vol. 1.*** T. W. Thornton: Reasoner No. 72, p. 664.**** Lamartine's Hist. Girondists, pp. 14-15, vol. 1.
Familiarity with the characteristics of science imparts considerable power for the detection of fallacy. A logician is imperfect without scientific tastes and habits. The man of science has all his knowledge systematised and arranged. What other people have in confusion, he has in order. The elements of knowledge are, more or less, as has been observed, known to all men—but in their perfect, communicable, and usable state, they are-known only to the educated and scientific man. What training is to the soldier, science is to the thinker. It enables him to control all his resources and employ his natural powers to the best advantage. It is this which constitutes the superiority of the educated over the ignorant. Astronomy, navigation, architecture, geometry, political economy, morals, all rest, or should rest, and do rest, if they have-attained to the perfection of science, on primary facts and first principles. Every step can be measured by an axiom—every result can be traced to a first principle.* To detect error, then, in any province of investigation, or any domain of argument, the logician first looks to the primary principles on which it is based, and thus tests the legitimacy of its conclusions.
As respects those who deal in things professedly above reason, It was well said by an anonymous writer of the old school of sturdy thinkers,—'Of such men as these I usually demand, whether their own assent to things they would have us believe, be grounded upon somerational argument. If they say 'tis not, they are fools to believe it themselves; and I should add to the number of fools, if, after this acknowledgment, I should believe them: but if they say it is, I desire them to produce their argument; for since 'tis framed by a human understanding, the force of it may also be comprehended and judged of by a human understanding: and tis to no purpose to say that the subject surpasses human reason: for if it do so indeed, it will surpasstheirsas well asmine, and so leave us both upon even terms. And let the thing assented to be what it will, the assent itself must be founded upon asufficient reason, and consequently upon one that isintelligibleto the human intellect that is wrought on by it.'**
* See Beauties and Uses of Euclid, chap. vi., Logic ofEuclid.** A Discourse on Things above Reason, 1681.
"What is it?—" "'Tis impossible the same thing should be, and not be at the same time," are maxims of such universal usefulness, that without them we could neitherjudge, discourse,noract. These principles may not always make their appearance in formal propositions, but still they guide all our thoughts in the same manner as when a musician plays a careless voluntary upon a harpsichord—he is guided by rules of music he long since became familiar with, though now scarcely sensible of them.
'A butcher loses his knife, and looks all about for it, and remarks as the motive of his search, "I am sure it must be somewhere or other." By which rude saying it is evident he is guided by the axiom last mentioned. Had he not the knowledge of this axiom beforehand, did he think it possible that his knife could beno whereor inno placehe would never take pains to look for it. We may observe many such axioms as this guiding the actions of the vulgar, and it is no unworthy speculation to observe their behaviour and words, which proceed from uncorrupted nature, and retrieve the axioms from which their conduct proceeds.'*
* Solid Philosophy, asserted against the Fancies of theIdealists. (Locke's Understanding is the work controverted.)By J. S.. London, 1679.
The outlines of the science of morality are thus comprehensively sketched by Sir James Mackintosh: the origin, value, and application of first principles are indicated with his usual felicity. 'The usages and laws of nations, the events of history, the opinions of philosophers, the sentiments of orators and poets, as well as the observations of common life, are in truth, the materials out of which the science of morality to formed; and those who neglect them are justly chargeable with a vain attempt to philosophise without regard to fact and experienee—the sole foundation of all true philosophy.
The natural order undoubtedly dictates that we should first search for theoriginal principlesof the science in human nature; then apply them to the regulation of the conduct of individuals, and lastly employ them for the decision of those difficult and complicated questions that arise with respect to the intercourse of nations.'
To search for ultimate principles is to discover at a glance the whole bearings of a great question. Through what clouds of politics had the historian of Rome penetrated when he announced that the principles of a free constitution are irrecoverably lost when the legislative power is nominated by the executive.
This habit—it cannot be too often insisted on aids not only the acquisition of knowledge, but also itsretention. Around these first principles, as around a standard, the thoughts naturally associate. Touch but a remote chord of any question, and it will vibrate to the central principle to which it has once been well attached. Every relative impression owns a kindred connection, and the moment one is attacked, it, like a faithful sentinel, arouses a whole troop, which, marshalled and disciplined, bear down and challenge the enemy.'*
* Beauties and Uses of Euclid, pp. 47-9.
What Rogers has so exquisitely sung of the associations of childhood, is true of the associations of science.
Childhood's loved group revisit! every scene,—The tangled wood-walk and the tufted green.The school's lone porch, with reverend mosses grey,Just tells the pensive pilgrim where it lay.Mute is the bell which rang at peep of dawn,Quick'ning my truant steps across the lawn:Unheard the shout that rent the noontide air,When the slow dial gave a pause to care.Up springs at every step, to claim a tear,Some little friendship formed and cherished here?And not the lightest leaf but trembling teemsWith golden visions and romantic dreams.
All truth and all error lie in Propositions.—J. S. Mill.
In accordance with that experience which directs to the profoundest books for the simplest statements, we turn to Mill's Logic for the philosophy of propositions. The answer to every question which it is possible to frame is contained in a proposition or assertion. Whatever can be an object of belief or even of disbelief, must, when put into words, assume the form of a proposition * * What we call a truth is simply a true proposition; and errors are false propositions. To know the import of all possible propositions would be to know all questions which can be raised, all matters which are susceptible of being either believed or disbelieved. * * Since then the objects of all belief and all inquiry express themselves in propositions, a sufficient scrutiny of propositions and of their varieties will apprise us what questions mankind have asked themselves, and what it the nature of the answers to those questions they have actually thought they had grounds to believe.
'Now the first glance at a proposition shows that it is formed by putting together two names. A proposition, according to the common simple definition, which is sufficient for our purpose, is,discourse in which something is affirmed or denied of something. Thus, in the proposition, gold is yellow, the qualityyellowis affirmed of the substancegold. In the proposition, Franklin was not born in England, the fact expressed by the wordsborn in Englandis denied of the man Franklin.
'Every proposition consists of three parts: the subject, the predicate, and the copula. The predicate is the name denoting that which is affirmed or denied. The subject is the name denoting the person or thing which something is affirmed or denied of. The copula is the sign denoting that there is an affirmation or denial; and thereby enabling the hearer or reader to distinguish a proposition from any other kind of discourse. Thus, in the proposition, the earth is round, the predicate is the wordround, which denotes the quality affirmed, or (as the phrase is) predicated:the earthwords denoting the object which that quality is affirmed of, compose the subject; the word it, which serves as the connecting mark between the subject and predicate, to show that one of them is affirmed of the other, is called the copula.'
No difficulty is unsurmountable, if words be allowed to passwithout meaning.—Lord Kames.
As every proposition consists of two names, and as every proposition affirms or denies one of these names of the other, the value of definition, which fixes the import of names, is apparent.
'Anameis a word taken at pleasure to serve for a mark, which may raise in our mind a thought like to some thought we had before, and which being pronounced to others, may be to them a sign of what thought the speaker had before in his mind [Hobbes]. This simple definition of a name, as a word (or set of words) serving the double purpose of a mark to recall to ourselves the likeness of a former thought, and a sign to make it known to others, appears unexceptionable.'*
Definition originates in accurate and comprehensive observation. 'There cannot be,' says Mill, 'agreement about the definition of a thing, until there is agreement about the thing itself.To define a thing is to select from among the whole of its properties those which shall be understood to be designated and declared by its name; and the properties must be very well known to us before we can be competent to determine which of them are fittest to be chosen for this purpose.'**
'The simplest and most correct notion of a definition is, a proposition declaratory of the meaning of a word; namely, either the meaning which it bears in common acceptation, or that which the speaker or writer, for the particular purposes of his discourse, intends to annex to it.'***
* J. Stuart Mill: System of Logic, 2nd ed., chap. 11, sec.I. p. 27.** Introduction to Logic, p. 1.*** Mill's Logic, p. 183, vol. 1.
But with most persons the object of a definition is merely to guide them to the correct use of a term as a protection against applying it in a manner inconsistent with custom and convention. Anything, therefore, is to them a sufficient definition of a term which will serve as a correct index to what the term denotes; although not embracing the whole, and sometimes perhaps not even any part of what it connotes.
Definitions are sometimes explained as being of two kinds—of things and words.
The definition ofwordsis the explanation of the sense in which they are used.
The definition ofthingsis an explanation of the specific properties by which they differ from all other things.
To define a thing, says Dr. Watts, we must ascertain with what it agrees, then note the most remarkable attribute of difference, and join the two together.
Probity—the disposition to acknowledge the rights of mankind.
Justice—the disposition to maintain the rights of mankind.
Benevolence—the disposition to improve the rights of mankind.
Deceit—the concealed violation of the rights of mankind.
Injustice—the open violation of the rights of mankind.
Malevolence—hatred of the rights of mankind.
In defining a word we seek some class to which to refer it, that we may identify it, and fix attention upon that peculiarity by which we can distinguish it from all other things. 'Probity and 'justice' are referred to 'disposition,' with reference to the 'rights of mankind' as their sphere of existence: andacknowledgment, and maintenance, are mentioned as the distinguishing features.
Distinctions must not be made without differences. The definition should be plainer than the thing defined. Aristotle's definition of motion is considered defective in this respect:—'Motion—an act of a being in power, so far forth as it is in power.' Tautological definitions cause more to be supposed than is true—the too terse explanation leaves some necessary thing unmentioned. A perfect definition requires the union of the concise, the clear, and the adequate. Some persons are so unskilful in the analysis of terms as to occasion the adviceNil explicare—never explain yourself if you wish to be understood.
Double meanings should be avoided. The writer may himself alternate in their use, and the reader may take the word in the unintended meaning. All men have not the strong sense of Johnson. When Caleb Whiteford inquired seriously of the Doctor, whether he really considered that a man ought to be transported, like Barrington, the pickpocket, for being guilty of a double meaning. 'Sir,' said Johnson, 'if a man means well, the more he means the better'—which, whether real or fictitious, is one of the happiest answers that ever crushed a quibble.*
* Hood's Own.
I have frequently put the question—What is consciousness? to persons who have been conscious for twenty or thirty years, but who were yet unable to reply. Had any one deprived these persons of consciousness, a judge would have hanged him for the offence; yet, could they themselves have been interrogated as to what harm they had suffered, they could not have told what they had lost. And upon the principle, that he not knowing what he has lost, is no loser, these persons, though murdered, had suffered no harm.
The various definitions of the same subject which prevail, originate in the caprice, or partial, or profound knowledge the definer may have of his subject. It seems to be admitted by logicians, that an author has a right to give whatever provisional definition he pleases of his terms. But having once given them, perspicuity requires that he should adhere to them. Any new sense in which a term is employed should be specially defined. In discoursing on an ordinary subject, as the right of public assembly,—such words as perception, conception, apprehension, might be used reciprocally, but in a dissertation on metaphysics each requires restriction in use and precision in purport.
Often genius strikes out new relations of words. In recent political debates, Mr. Cobden resorted with new force and point to a charge of rashness against ministers: he showed that rashness consisted more frequently in inaction than action. He is rash who stands surrounded by the elements of danger without taking; any precaution against the contingencies of peril; he is rash who does not take advantage of the calm, to repair his shattered rigging; he is rash who looks not out for a proper supply of water until the conflagration is raging around him; and more rash than all is he who exercises no provident care for supplying a nation with food, but waits for the pressure of famine and the perils of starvation.
At the last soiree of the Leeds Mechanics' Institution, Mr. Dickens referred to ignorance, commonly considered as a passive negation, and placed it in the light of a power. 'Look where we will, do we not find ignorance powerful for every kind of wrong and evil? Powerful to take its enemies to its heart and strike its best friends down—powerful to fill the prisons, the hospitals, and the graves—powerful for blind violence, prejudice, and error in all their destructive shapes.'
The variations which not only common but technical terms undergo, is a considerable source of perplexity in reasoning. Mr. Mill cites the instance of the term felony. No lawyer will undertake to tell what a felony is otherwise than by enumerating the various kinds of offences which are so called. Originally, felony denoted all offences, the penalty of which included forfeiture of goods; but, subsequent Acts of Parliament have declared various offences to be felonies without enjoining that penalty, and have taken away the penalty from others which continue still to be called felonies, insomuch that the acts so called have now no property whatever in common, save that of being unlawful and punishable. This inattention to precision in terms has arisen not among the vulgar, but among educated English lawyers.
'Language,' says Mr. Mill, borrowing a political simile from Sir James Mackintosh, '"is not made, but grows." A name not unfrequently passes by successive links of resemblance from one object to another, until it becomes applied to things having nothing in common with the first things to which the name was given; which, however, do not, for that reason, drop the name; so that it at last denotes a confused huddle of objects, having nothing whatever in common; and connotes nothing, not even a vague and general resemblance. When a name has fallen into this state, in which by predicating it of any object we assert literally nothing about the object, it has become unfit for the purposes either of thought or of the communication of thought; and can only be made serviceable by stripping it of some part of its multifarious denotation, and confining it to objects possessed of some attributes in common, which it may be made to connote. Such are the inconveniences of a language which "is not made, but grows." like a road which is not made, but has made itself, it requires continual mending in order to be passable.'*