Chapter 5

Here Sir William Hamilton did a real service to logic in pointing out that “Logic postulates to be allowed to state explicitly in language all that is implicitly contained in the thought.” Not that men should or can carry this logical postulate out in ordinary life; but it is necessary in the logical analysis of judgments, and yet logicians neglect it. This is why they confuse the categorical and the universal with the hypothetical. Taking the carelessly expressed propositions of ordinary life, they do not perceive that similar judgments are often differently expressed,e.g.“I, being a man, am mortal,” and “If I am a man, I am mortal”; and conversely, that different judgments are often similarly expressed. In ordinary life we may say, “All men are mortal,” “All centaurs are figments,” “All square circles are impossibilities,” “All candidates arriving five minutes late are fined” (the last proposition being an example of the identification of categorical with hypothetical in Keynes’sFormal Logic). But of these universal propositions the first imperfectly expresses a categorical belief in existing things, the second in thinkable things, and the third in nameable things, while the fourth is a slipshod categorical expression of the hypothetical belief, “If any candidates arrive late they are fined.” The four judgments are different, and therefore logically the propositions fully expressing them are also different. The judgment, then, is the measure of the proposition, not the proposition the measure of the judgment. On the other hand, we may go too far in the opposite direction, as Hamilton did in proposing the universal quantification of the predicate. If the quantity of the predicate were always thought, it ought logically to be always stated. But we only sometimes think it. Usually we leave the predicate indefinite, because, as long as the thing in question is (or is not) determined, it does not matter about other things, and it is vain for us to try to think all things at once. It is remarkable that inBarbara, and therefore in many scientific deductions, to think the quantity of the predicate is not to the point either in the premises or in the conclusion; so that to quantify the propositions, as Hamilton proposes, would be to express more than a rational man thinks and judges. In judgments, and therefore in propositions, indefinite predicates are the rule, quantified predicates the exception. Consequently, A E I O are the normal propositions with indefinite predicates; whereas propositions with quantified predicates are only occasional forms, which we should use whenever we require to think the quantity of the predicate,e.g.(1) in conversion, when we must think that all men are some animals, in order to judge that some animals are men; (2) in syllogisms of the 3rd figure, when the predicate of the minor premise must be particularly quantified in thought in order to become the particularly quantified subject of the conclusion; (3) in identical propositions including definitions, where we must think both that 1 + 1 are 2 and 2 are 1 + 1. But the normal judgment, and therefore the normal proposition, do not require the quantity of the predicate. It follows also that the normal judgment is not an equation. The symbol of equality (=) is not the same as the copula (is); it means “is equal to,” where “equal to” is part of the predicate, leaving “is” as the copula.Now, in all judgment we think “is,” but in few judgments predicate “equal to.” In quantitative judgments we may think x = y, or, as Boole proposes, x = vy = (0/0)y or, as Jevons proposes, x = xy, or, as Venn proposes, x which is not y = 0; and equational symbolic logic is useful whenever we think in this quantitative way. But it is a byway of thought. In most judgments all we believe is that x is (or is not) y, that a thing is (or is not) determined, and that the thing signified by the subject is a thing signified by the predicate, but not that it is the only thing, or equal to everything signified by the predicate. The symbolic logic, which confuses “is” with “is equal to,” having introduced a particular kind of predicate into the copula, falls into the mistake of reducing all predication to the one category of the quantitative; whereas it is more often in the substantial,e.g.“I am a man,” not “I am equal to a man,” or in the qualitative,e.g.“I am white,” not “I am equal to white,” or in the relative,e.g.“I am born in sin,” not “I am equal to born in sin.” Predication, as Aristotle saw, is as various as the categories of being. Finally, the great difficulty of the logic of judgment is to find the mental act behind the linguistic expression, to ascribe to it exactly what is thought, neither more nor less, and to apply the judgment thought to the logical proposition, without expecting to find it in ordinary propositions. Beneath Hamilton’s postulate there is a deeper principle of logic—A rational being thinks only to the point, and speaks only to understand and be understood.

Here Sir William Hamilton did a real service to logic in pointing out that “Logic postulates to be allowed to state explicitly in language all that is implicitly contained in the thought.” Not that men should or can carry this logical postulate out in ordinary life; but it is necessary in the logical analysis of judgments, and yet logicians neglect it. This is why they confuse the categorical and the universal with the hypothetical. Taking the carelessly expressed propositions of ordinary life, they do not perceive that similar judgments are often differently expressed,e.g.“I, being a man, am mortal,” and “If I am a man, I am mortal”; and conversely, that different judgments are often similarly expressed. In ordinary life we may say, “All men are mortal,” “All centaurs are figments,” “All square circles are impossibilities,” “All candidates arriving five minutes late are fined” (the last proposition being an example of the identification of categorical with hypothetical in Keynes’sFormal Logic). But of these universal propositions the first imperfectly expresses a categorical belief in existing things, the second in thinkable things, and the third in nameable things, while the fourth is a slipshod categorical expression of the hypothetical belief, “If any candidates arrive late they are fined.” The four judgments are different, and therefore logically the propositions fully expressing them are also different. The judgment, then, is the measure of the proposition, not the proposition the measure of the judgment. On the other hand, we may go too far in the opposite direction, as Hamilton did in proposing the universal quantification of the predicate. If the quantity of the predicate were always thought, it ought logically to be always stated. But we only sometimes think it. Usually we leave the predicate indefinite, because, as long as the thing in question is (or is not) determined, it does not matter about other things, and it is vain for us to try to think all things at once. It is remarkable that inBarbara, and therefore in many scientific deductions, to think the quantity of the predicate is not to the point either in the premises or in the conclusion; so that to quantify the propositions, as Hamilton proposes, would be to express more than a rational man thinks and judges. In judgments, and therefore in propositions, indefinite predicates are the rule, quantified predicates the exception. Consequently, A E I O are the normal propositions with indefinite predicates; whereas propositions with quantified predicates are only occasional forms, which we should use whenever we require to think the quantity of the predicate,e.g.(1) in conversion, when we must think that all men are some animals, in order to judge that some animals are men; (2) in syllogisms of the 3rd figure, when the predicate of the minor premise must be particularly quantified in thought in order to become the particularly quantified subject of the conclusion; (3) in identical propositions including definitions, where we must think both that 1 + 1 are 2 and 2 are 1 + 1. But the normal judgment, and therefore the normal proposition, do not require the quantity of the predicate. It follows also that the normal judgment is not an equation. The symbol of equality (=) is not the same as the copula (is); it means “is equal to,” where “equal to” is part of the predicate, leaving “is” as the copula.Now, in all judgment we think “is,” but in few judgments predicate “equal to.” In quantitative judgments we may think x = y, or, as Boole proposes, x = vy = (0/0)y or, as Jevons proposes, x = xy, or, as Venn proposes, x which is not y = 0; and equational symbolic logic is useful whenever we think in this quantitative way. But it is a byway of thought. In most judgments all we believe is that x is (or is not) y, that a thing is (or is not) determined, and that the thing signified by the subject is a thing signified by the predicate, but not that it is the only thing, or equal to everything signified by the predicate. The symbolic logic, which confuses “is” with “is equal to,” having introduced a particular kind of predicate into the copula, falls into the mistake of reducing all predication to the one category of the quantitative; whereas it is more often in the substantial,e.g.“I am a man,” not “I am equal to a man,” or in the qualitative,e.g.“I am white,” not “I am equal to white,” or in the relative,e.g.“I am born in sin,” not “I am equal to born in sin.” Predication, as Aristotle saw, is as various as the categories of being. Finally, the great difficulty of the logic of judgment is to find the mental act behind the linguistic expression, to ascribe to it exactly what is thought, neither more nor less, and to apply the judgment thought to the logical proposition, without expecting to find it in ordinary propositions. Beneath Hamilton’s postulate there is a deeper principle of logic—A rational being thinks only to the point, and speaks only to understand and be understood.

Inference

The nature and analysis of inference have been so fully treated in the Introduction that here we may content ourselves with some points of detail.

1.False Views of Syllogism arising from False Views of Judgment.—The false views of judgment, which we have been examining, have led to false views of inference. On the one hand, having reduced categorical judgments to an existential form, Brentano proposes to reform the syllogism, with the results that it must contain four terms, of which two are opposed and two appear twice; that, when it is negative, both premises are negative; and that, when it is affirmative, one premise, at least, is negative. In order to infer the universal affirmative that every professor is mortal because he is a man, Brentano’s existential syllogism would run as follows:—

There is not a not-mortal man.There is not a not-human professor.∴ There is not a non-mortal professor.

There is not a not-mortal man.

There is not a not-human professor.

∴ There is not a non-mortal professor.

On the other hand, if on the plan of Sigwart categorical universals were reducible to hypothetical, the same inference would be a pure hypothetical syllogism, thus:—

If anything is a man it is mortal.If anything is a professor it is a man.∴ If anything is a professor it is mortal.

If anything is a man it is mortal.

If anything is a professor it is a man.

∴ If anything is a professor it is mortal.

But both these unnatural forms, which are certainly not analyses of any conscious process of categorical reasoning, break down at once, because they cannot explain those moods in the third figure,e.g.Darapti, which reason from universal premises to a particular conclusion. Thus, in order to infer that some wise men are good from the example of professors, Brentano’s syllogism would be the followingnon-sequitur:—

There is not a not-good professor.There is not a not-wise professor.There is a wise good (non-sequitur).

There is not a not-good professor.

There is not a not-wise professor.

There is a wise good (non-sequitur).

So Sigwart’s syllogism would be the followingnon-sequitur:—

If anything is a professor, it is good.If anything is a professor, it is wise.Something wise is good (non-sequitur).

If anything is a professor, it is good.

If anything is a professor, it is wise.

Something wise is good (non-sequitur).

But as by the admission of both logicians these reconstructions ofDaraptiare illogical, it follows that their respective reductions of categorical universals to existentials and hypotheticals are false, because they do not explain an actual inference. Sigwart does not indeed shrink from this and greater absurdities; he reduces the first figure to themodus ponensand the second to themodus tollensof the hypothetical syllogism, and then, finding no place for the third figure, denies that it can infer necessity; whereas it really infers the necessary consequence of particular conclusions. But the crowning absurdity is that, if all universals were hypothetical,Barbarain the first figure would become a purely hypothetical syllogism—a consequence which seems innocent enough until we remember that all universal affirmative conclusions in all sciences would with their premises dissolve into mere hypothesis. No logic can be sound which leads to the following analysis:—

If anything is a body it is extended.If anything is a planet it is a body.∴ If anything is a planet it is extended.

If anything is a body it is extended.

If anything is a planet it is a body.

∴ If anything is a planet it is extended.

Sigwart, indeed, has missed the essential difference between the categorical and the hypothetical construction of syllogisms. In a categorical syllogism of the first figure, the major premise, “Every M whatever is P,” is a universal, which we believe on account of previous evidence without any condition about the thing signified by the subject M, which we simply believe sometimes to be existent (e.g.“Every man existent”), and sometimes not (e.g., “Every centaur conceivable”); and the minor premise, “S is M,” establishes no part of the major, but adds the evidence of a particular not thought of in the major at all. But in a hypothetical syllogism of the ordinary mixed type, the first or hypothetical premise is a conditional belief,e.g.“If anything is M it is P,” containing a hypothetical antecedent, “If anything is M,” which is sometimes a hypothesis of existence (e.g.“If anything is an angel”), and sometimes a hypothesis of fact (e.g.“If an existing man is wise”); and the second premise or assumption, “Something is M,” establishes part of the first, namely, the hypothetical antecedent, whether as regards existence (e.g.“Something is an angel”), or as regards fact (e.g.“This existing man is wise”). These very different relations of premises are obliterated by Sigwart’s false reduction of categorical universals to hypotheticals. But even Sigwart’s errors are outdone by Lotze, who not only reduces “Every M is P” so “If S is M, S is P,” but proceeds to reduce this hypothetical to the disjunctive, “If S is M, S is P1or P2or P3,” and finds fault with the Aristotelian syllogism because it contents itself with inferring “S is P” without showing what P. Now there are occasions when we want to reason in this disjunctive manner, to consider whether S is P1or P2or P3, and to conclude that “S is a particular P”; but ordinarily all we want to know is that “S is P”;e.g.in arithmetic, that 2 + 2 are 4, not any particular 4, and in life that all our contemporaries must die, without enumerating all their particular sorts of deaths. Lotze’s mistake is the same as that of Hamilton about the quantification of the predicate, and that of those symbolists who held that reasoning ought always to exhaust all alternatives by equations. It is the mistake of exaggerating exceptional into normal forms of thought, and ignoring the principle that a rational being thinks only to the point.

2.Quasi-syllogisms.—Besides reconstructions of the syllogistic fabric, we find in recent logic attempts to extend the figures of the syllogism beyond the syllogistic rules. An old error that we may have a valid syllogism from merely negative premises (ex omnibus negativis), long ago answered by Alexander and Boethius, is now revived by Lotze, Jevons and Bradley, who do not perceive that the supposed second negative is really an affirmative containing a “not” which can only be carried through the syllogism by separating it from the copula and attaching it to one of the extremes, thus:—

The just are not unhappy (negative).The just are not-recognized (affirmative).∴ Some not-recognized are not unhappy (negative).

The just are not unhappy (negative).

The just are not-recognized (affirmative).

∴ Some not-recognized are not unhappy (negative).

Here the minor being the infinite term “not-recognized” in the conclusion, must be the same term also in the minor premise. Schuppe, however, who is a fertile creator of quasi-syllogisms, has managed to invent some examples from two negative premises of a different kind:—

But (1) concludes with a mere repetition, (2) and (3) with a contingent “may be,” which, as Aristotle says, also “may not be,” and thereforenihil certo colligitur. The same answerapplies to Schuppe’s supposed syllogisms from two particular premises:—

The only difference between these and the previous examples (2) and (3) is that, while those break the rule against two negative premises, these break that against undistributed middle. Equally fallacious are two other attempts of Schuppe to produce syllogisms from invalid moods:—

In the first the fallacy is the indifferent contingency of the conclusion caused by thenon-sequiturfrom a negative premise to an affirmative conclusion; while the second is either a mere repetition of the premises if the conclusion means “S is like P in being M,” or, if it means “S is P,” anon-sequituron account of the undistributed middle. It must not be thought that this trifling with logical rules has no effect. The last supposed syllogism, namely, that having two affirmative premises and entailing an undistributed middle in the second figure, is accepted by Wundt under the title “Inference by Comparison” (Vergleichungsschluss), and is supposed by him to be useful for abstraction and subsidiary to induction, and by Bosanquet to be useful for analogy. Wundt, for example, proposes the following premises:—

But to say from these premises, “Gold and metal are similar in what is signified by the middle term,” is a mere repetition of the premises; to say, further, that “Gold may be a metal” is anon-sequitur, because, the middle being undistributed, the logical conclusion is the contingent “Gold may or may not be a metal,” which leaves the question quite open, and therefore there is no syllogism. Wundt, who is again followed by Bosanquet, also supposes another syllogism in the third figure, under the title of “Inference by Connexion” (Verbindungsschluss), to be useful for induction. He proposes, for example, the following premises:—

Here there is no syllogistic fallacy in the premises; but the question is what syllogistic conclusion can be drawn, and there is only one which follows without an illicit process of the minor, namely, “Some metals are fusible.” The moment we stir a step further with Wundt m the direction of a more general conclusion (ein allgemeinerer Satz), we cannot infer from the premises the conclusion desired by Wundt, “Metals and fusible are connected”; nor can we infer “All metals are fusible,” nor “Metals are fusible,” nor “Metals may be fusible,” nor “All metals may be fusible,” nor any assertory conclusion, determinate or indeterminate, but the indifferent contingent, “All metals may or may not be fusible,” which leaves the question undecided, so that there is no syllogism. We do not mean that in Wundt’s supposed “inferences of relation by comparison and connexion” the premises are of no further use; but those of the first kind are of no syllogistic use in the second figure, and those of the second kind of no syllogistic use beyond particular conclusions in the third figure. What they really are in the inferences proposed by Wundt is not premises for syllogism, but data for induction parading as syllogism. We must pass the same sentence on Lotze’s attempt to extend the second figure of the syllogism for inductive purposes, thus:—

We could not have a more flagrant abuse of the ruleNe esto plus minusque in conclusione quam in praemissis. As we see from Lotze’s own defence, the conclusion cannot be drawn without another premise or premises to the effect that “S, Q, R, are Σ, and Σ is the one real subject of M.” But how is all this to be got into the second figure? Again, Wundt and B. Erdmann propose new moods of syllogism with convertible premises, containing definitions and equations. Wundt’sLogichas the following forms:—

Now, there is no doubt that, especially in mathematical equations, universal conclusions are obtainable from convertible premises expressed in these ways. But the question is how the premises must be thought, and they must be thought in the converse way to produce a logical conclusion. Thus, we must think in (1) “All P is M” to avoid illicit process of the major, in (2) “All y is z” to avoid undistributed middle, in (3) “All x is y” to avoid illicit process of the minor. Indeed, it is the very essence of a convertible judgment to think it in both orders, and especially to think it in the order necessary to an inference from it. Accordingly, however expressed, the syllogisms quoted above are, as thought, ordinary syllogisms, (1) beingCamestresin the second figure, (2) and (3)Barbarain the first figure. Aristotle, indeed, was as well aware as German logicians of the force of convertible premises; but he was also aware that they require no special syllogisms, and made it a point that, in a syllogism from a definition, the definition is the middle, and thedefinitumthe major in a convertible major premise ofBarbarain the first figure,e.g.:—

It is the same with all the recent attempts to extend the syllogism beyond its rules, which are not liable to exceptions, because they follow from the nature of syllogistic inference from universal to particular. To give the name of syllogism to inferences which infringe the general rules against undistributed middle, illicit process, two negative premises,non-sequiturfrom negative to affirmative, and the introduction of what is not in the premises into the conclusion, and which consequently infringe the special rules against affirmative conclusions in the second figure, and against universal conclusions in the third figure, is to open the door to fallacy, and at best to confuse the syllogism with other kinds of inference, without enabling us to understand any one kind.

3.Analytic and Synthetic Deduction.—Alexander the Commentator defined synthesis as a progress from principles to consequences, analysis as a regress from consequences to principles; and Latin logicians preserved the same distinction between theprogressus a principiis ad principiata, and theregressus a principiatis ad principia. No distinction is more vital in the logic of inference in general and of scientific inference in particular; and yet none has been so little understood, because, though analysis is the more usual order of discovery, synthesis is that of instruction, and therefore, by becoming more familiar, tends to replace and obscure the previous analysis. The distinction, however, did not escape Aristotle, who saw that a progressive syllogism can be reversed thus:—

Proceeding from one order to the other, by converting one of the premises, and substituting the conclusion as premise for the other premise, so as to deduce the latter as conclusion, is what he calls circular inference; and he remarked that the process is fallacious unless it contains propositions which are convertible, as in mathematical equations. Further, he perceived that the difference between the progressive and regressive orders extends from mathematics to physics, and that there are two kinds of syllogism: one progressing a priori from real groundto consequent fact (ὁ τοῦ διότι συλλογισμός), and the other regressing a posteriori from consequent fact to real ground (ὁ τοῦ ὄτι συλλογισμός). For example, as he says, the sphericity of the moon is the real ground of the fact of its light waxing; but we can deduce either from the other, as follows:—

These two kinds of syllogism are synthesis and analysis in the ancient sense. Deduction is analysis when it is regressive from consequence to real ground, as when we start from the proposition that the angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles and deduce analytically that therefore (1) they are equal to equal angles made by a straight line standing on another straight line, and (2) such equal angles are two right angles. Deduction is synthesis when it is progressive from real ground to consequence, as when we start from these two results of analysis as principles and deduce synthetically the proposition that therefore the angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, in the order familiar to the student of Euclid. But the full value of the ancient theory of these processes cannot be appreciated until we recognize that as Aristotle planned them Newton used them. Much of thePrincipiaconsists of synthetical deductions from definitions and axioms. But the discovery of the centripetal force of the planets to the sun is an analytic deduction from the facts of their motion discovered by Kepler to their real ground, and is so stated by Newton in the first regressive order of Aristotle—P-M, S-P, S-M. Newton did indeed first show synthetically what kind of motions by mechanical laws have their ground in a centripetal force varying inversely as the square of the distance (all P is M); but his next step was, not to deduce synthetically the planetary motions, but to make a new start from the planetary motions as facts established by Kepler’s laws and as examples of the kind of motions in question (all S is P); and then, by combining these two premises, one mechanical and the other astronomical, he analytically deduced that these facts of planetary motion have their ground in a centripetal force varying inversely as the squares of the distances of the planets from the sun (all S is M). (SeePrincipiaI. prop. 2; 4 coroll. 6; III. Phaenomena, 4-5; prop. 2.) What Newton did, in short, was to prove by analysis that the planets, revolving by Kepler’s astronomical laws round the sun, have motions such as by mechanical laws are consequences of a centripetal force to the sun. This done, as the major is convertible, the analytic order—P-M, S-P, S-M—was easily inverted into the synthetic order—M-P, S-M, S-P; and in this progressive order the deduction as now taught begins with the centripetal force of the sun as real ground, and deduces the facts of planetary motion as consequences. Thereupon the Newtonian analysis which preceded this synthesis, became forgotten; until at last Mill in hisLogic, neglecting thePrincipia, had the temerity to distort Newton’s discovery, which was really a pure example of analytic deduction, into a mere hypothetical deduction; as if the author of the saying “Hypotheses non fingo” started from the hypothesis of a centripetal force to the sun, and thence deductively explained the facts of planetary motion, which reciprocally verified the hypothesis. This gross misrepresentation has made hypothesis a kind of logical fashion. Worse still, Jevons proceeded to confuse analytic deduction from consequence to ground with hypothetical deduction from ground toconsequenceunder the common term “inverse deduction.” Wundt attempts, but in vain, to make a compromise between the old and the new. He re-defines analysis in the very opposite way to the ancients; whereas they defined it as a regressive process from consequence to ground, according to Wundt it is a progressive process of taking for granted a proposition and deducing a consequence, which being true verifies the proposition. He then divides it into two species: one categorical, the other hypothetical. By the categorical he means the ancient analysis from a given proposition to more general propositions. By the hypothetical he means the new-fangled analysis from a given proposition to more particular propositions,i.e.from a hypothesis to consequent facts. But his account of the first is imperfect, because in ancient analysis the more general propositions, with which it concludes, are not mere consequences, but the real grounds of the given proposition; while his addition of the second reduces the nature of analysis to the utmost confusion, because hypothetical deduction is progressive from hypothesis to consequent facts whereas analysis is regressive from consequent facts to real ground. There is indeed a sense in which all inference is from ground to consequence, because it is from logical ground (principium cognoscendi) to logical consequence. But in the sense in which deductive analysis is opposed to deductive synthesis, analysis is deduction from real consequence as logical ground (principiatumasprincipium cognoscendi) to real ground (principium essendi),e.g.from the consequential facts of planetary motion to their real ground,i.e.centripetal force to the sun. Hence Sigwart is undoubtedly right in distinguishing analysis from hypothetical deduction, for which he proposes the name “reduction.” We have only further to add that many scientific discoveries about sound, heat, light, colour and so forth, which it is the fashion to represent as hypotheses to explain facts, are really analytical deductions from the facts to their real grounds in accordance with mechanical laws. Recent logic does scant justice to scientific analysis.

4.Induction.—As induction is the process from particulars to universals, it might have been thought that it would always have been opposed to syllogism, in which one of the rules is against using particular premises to draw universal conclusions. Yet such is the passion for one type that from Aristotle’s time till now constant attempts have been made to reduce induction to syllogism. Aristotle himself invented an inductive syllogism in which the major (P) is to be referred to the middle (M) by means of the minor (S), thus:—

As the second premise is supposed to be convertible, he reduced the inductive to a deductive syllogism as follows:—

In the reduced form the inductive syllogism was described by Aldrich as “Syllogismus in Barbara cujus minor(i.e.every M is S)reticetur.” Whately, on the other hand, proposed an inductive syllogism with the major suppressed, that is, instead of the minor premise above, he supposed a major premise, “Whatever belongs to A, B, C magnets belongs to all.” Mill thereupon supposed a still more general premise, an assumption of the uniformity of nature. Since Mill’s time, however, the logic of induction tends to revert towards syllogisms more like that of Aristotle. Jevons supposed induction to be inverse deduction, distinguished from direct deduction as analysis from synthesis,e.g.as division from multiplication; but he really meant that it is a deduction from a hypothesis of the law of a cause to particular effects which, being true, verify the hypothesis. Sigwart declares himself in agreement with Jevons; except that, being aware of the difference between hypothetical deduction and mathematical analysis, and seeing that, whereas analysis (e.g.in division) leads to certain conclusions, hypothetical deduction is not certain of the hypothesis, he arrives at the more definite view that induction is not analysis proper but hypothetical deduction, or “reduction,” as he proposes to call it. Reduction he defines as “the framing of possible premises for given propositions, or the construction of a syllogism when the conclusion and one premise is given.” On this view induction becomes a reduction in the form: all M is P (hypothesis), S is M (given), ∴ S is P (given). The views of Jevons and Sigwart are in agreement in two main points. According to both, induction, instead of inferring from A, B, C magnets the conclusion “Therefore all magnets attract iron,” infers from the hypothesis, “Let every magnet attract iron,” to A, B, C magnets, whose given attraction verifies the hypothesis. According to both,again, the hypothesis of a law with which the process starts contains more than is present in the particular data: according to Jevons, it is the hypothesis of a law of a cause from which induction deduces particular effects; and according to Sigwart, it is a hypothesis of the ground from which the particular data necessarily follow according to universal laws. Lastly, Wundt’s view is an interesting piece of eclecticism, for he supposes that induction begins in the form of Aristotle’s inductive syllogism, S-P, S-M, M-P, and becomes an inductive method in the form of Jevons’s inverse deduction, or hypothetical deduction, or analysis, M-P, S-M, S-P. In detail, he supposes that, while an “inference by comparison,” which he erroneously calls an affirmative syllogism in the second figure, is preliminary to induction, a second “inference by connexion,” which he erroneously calls a syllogism in the third figure with an indeterminate conclusion, is the inductive syllogism itself. This is like Aristotle’s inductive syllogism in the arrangement of terms; but, while on the one hand Aristotle did not, like Wundt, confuse it with the third figure, on the other hand Wundt does not, like Aristotle, suppose it to be practicable to get inductive data so wide as the convertible premise, “All S is M, and all M is S,” which would at once establish the conclusion, “All M is P.” Wundt’s point is that the conclusion of the inductive syllogism is neither so much as all, nor so little as some, but rather the indeterminate “M and P are connected.” The question therefore arises, how we are to discover “All M is P,” and this question Wundt answers by adding an inductive method, which involves inverting the inductive syllogism in the style of Aristotle into a deductive syllogism from a hypothesis in the style of Jevons, thus:—

He agrees with Jevons in calling this second syllogism analytical deduction, and with Jevons and Sigwart in calling it hypothetical deduction. It is, in fact, a common point of Jevons, Sigwart and Wundt that the universal is not really a conclusion inferred from given particulars, but a hypothetical major premise from which given particulars are inferred, and that this major contains presuppositions of causation not contained in the particulars.

It is noticeable that Wundt quotes Newton’s discovery of the centripetal force of the planets to the sun as an instance of this supposed hypothetical, analytic, inductive method; as if Newton’s analysis were a hypothesis of the centripetal force to the sun, a deduction of the given facts of planetary motion, and a verification of the hypothesis by the given facts, and as if such a process of hypothetical deduction could be identical with either analysis or induction. The abuse of this instance of Newtonian analysis betrays the whole origin of the current confusion of induction with deduction. One confusion has led to another. Mill confused Newton’s analytical deduction with hypothetical deduction; and thereupon Jevons confused induction with both. The result is that both Sigwart and Wundt transform the inductive process of adducing particular examples to induce a universal law into a deductive process of presupposing a universal law as a ground to deduce particular consequences. But we can easily extricate ourselves from these confusions by comparing induction with different kinds of deduction. The point about induction is that it starts from experience, and that, though in most classes we can experience only some particulars individually, yet we infer all. Hence induction cannot be reduced to Aristotle’s inductive syllogism, because experience cannot give the convertible premise, “Every S is M, and every M is S”; that “All A, B, C are magnets” is, but that “All magnets are A, B, C” is not, a fact of experience. For the same reason induction cannot be reduced to analytical deduction of the second kind in the form, S-P, M-S, ∴ M-P; because, though both end in a universal conclusion, the limits of experience prevent induction from such inference as:—

Still less can induction be reduced to analytical deduction of the first kind in the form—P-M, S-P, ∴ S-M, of which Newton has left so conspicuous an example in hisPrincipia. As the example shows, that analytic process starts from the scientific knowledge of a universal and convertible law (every M is P, and every P is M),e.g.a mechanical law of all centripetal force, and ends in a particular application,e.g.this centripetal force of planets to the sun. But induction cannot start from a known law. Hence it is that Jevons, followed by Sigwart and Wundt, reduces it to deduction from a hypothesis in the form “Let every M be P, S is M, ∴ S is P.” There is a superficial resemblance between induction and this hypothetical deduction. Both in a way use given particulars as evidence. But in induction the given particulars are the evidence by which we discover the universal,e.g.particular magnetsattractingiron are the origin of an inference that all do; in hypothetical deduction, the universal is the evidence by which we explain the given particulars, as when we suppose undulating aether to explain the facts of heat and light. In the former process, the given particulars are the data from which we infer the universal; in the latter, they are only the consequent facts by which we verify it. Or rather, there are two uses of induction: inductive discovery before deduction, and inductive verification after deduction. But neither use of induction is the same as the deduction itself: the former precedes, the latter follows it. Lastly, the theory of Mill, though frequently adopted,e.g.by B. Erdmann, need not detain us long. Most inductions are made without any assumption of the uniformity of nature; for, whether it is itself induced, or a priori or postulated, this like every assumption is a judgment, and most men are incapable of judgment on so universal a scale, when they are quite capable of induction. The fact is that the uniformity of nature stands to induction as the axioms of syllogism do to syllogism; they are not premises, but conditions of inference, which ordinary men use spontaneously, as was pointed out inPhysical Realism, and afterwards in Venn’sEmpirical Logic. The axiom of contradiction is not a major premise of a judgment: thedictum de omni et nullois not a major premise of a syllogism: the principle of uniformity is not a major premise of an induction. Induction, in fact, is no species of deduction; they are opposite processes, as Aristotle regarded them except in the one passage where he was reducing the former to the latter, and as Bacon always regarded them. But it is easy to confuse them by mistaking examples of deduction for inductions. Thus Whewell mistook Kepler’s inference that Mars moves in an ellipse for an induction, though it required the combination of Tycho’s and Kepler’s observations, as a minor, with the laws of conic sections discovered by the Greeks, as a major, premise. Jevons, in hisPrinciples of Science, constantly makes the same sort of mistake. For example, the inference from the similarity between solar spectra and the spectra of various gases on the earth to the existence of similar gases in the sun, is called by him an induction; but it really is an analytical deduction from effect to cause, thus:—

In the same way, to infer a machine from hearing the regular tick of a clock, to infer a player from finding a pack of cards arranged in suits, to infer a human origin of stone implements, and all such inferences from patent effects to latent causes, though they appear to Jevons to be typical inductions, are really deductions which, besides the minor premise stating the particular effects, require a major premise discovered by a previous induction and stating the general kind of effects of a general kind of cause. B. Erdmann, again, has invented an induction from particular predicates to a totality of predicates which he calls “ergänzende Induction,” giving as an example, “This body has the colour, extensibility and specific gravity of magnesium; therefore it is magnesium.” But this inference contains the tacit major, “What has a given colour, &c., is magnesium,” and is a syllogism of recognition. A deduction is often like an induction, in inferring from particulars; the difference is thatdeduction combines a law in the major with the particulars in the minor premise, and infers syllogistically that the particulars of the minor have the predicate of the major premise, whereas induction uses the particulars simply as instances to generalize a law. An infallible sign of an induction is that the subject and predicate of the universal conclusion are merely those of the particular instances generalized;e.g.“These magnets attract iron, ∴ all do.”

This brings us to another source of error. As we have seen, Jevons, Sigwart and Wundt all think that induction contains a belief in causation, in a cause, or ground, which is not present in the particular facts of experience, but is contributed by a hypothesis added as a major premise to the particulars in order to explain them by the cause or ground. Not so; when an induction is causal, the particular instances are already beliefs in particular causes,e.g.“My right hand is exerting pressure reciprocally with my left,” “A, B, C magnets attract iron”; and the problem is to generalize these causes, not to introduce them. Induction is not introduction. It would make no difference to the form of induction, if, as Kant thought, the notion of causality is a priori; for even Kant thought that it is already contained in experience. But whether Kant be right or wrong, Wundt and his school are decidedly wrong in supposing “supplementary notions which are not contained in experience itself, but are gained by a process of logical treatment of this experience”; as if our behalf in causality could be neither a posteriori nor a priori, but beyond experience wake up in a hypothetical major premise of induction. Really, we first experience that particular causes have particular effects; then induce that causes similar to those have effects similar to these; finally, deduce that when a particular cause of the kind occurs it has a particular effect of the kind by synthetic deduction, and that when a particular effect of the kind occurs it has a particular cause of the kind by analytic deduction with a convertible premise, as when Newton from planetary motions, like terrestrial motions, analytically deduced a centripetal force to the sun like centripetal forces to the earth. Moreover, causal induction is itself both synthetic and analytic: according as experiment combines elements into a compound, or resolves a compound into elements, it is the origin of a synthetic or an analytic generalization. Not, however, that all induction is causal; but where it is not, there is still less reason for making it a deduction from hypothesis. When from the fact that the many crows in our experience are black, we induce the probability that all crows whatever are black, the belief in the particulars is quite independent of this universal. How then can this universal be called, as Sigwart, for example, calls it, the ground from which these particulars follow? I do not believe that the crows I have seen are black because all crows are black, but vice versa. Sigwart simply inverts the order of our knowledge. In all induction, as Aristotle said, the particulars are the evidence, or ground of our knowledge (principium cognoscendi), of the universal. In causal induction, the particulars further contain the cause, or ground of the being (principium essendi), of the effect, as well as the ground of our inducing the law. In all induction the universal is the conclusion, in none a major premise, and in none the ground of either the being or the knowing of the particulars. Induction is generalization. It is not syllogism in the form of Aristotle’s or Wundt’s inductive syllogism, because, though starting only from some particulars, it concludes with a universal; it is not syllogism in the form called inverse deduction by Jevons, reduction by Sigwart, inductive method by Wundt, because it often uses particular facts of causation to infer universal laws of causation; it is not syllogism in the form of Mill’s syllogism from a belief in uniformity of nature, because few men have believed in uniformity, but all have induced from particulars to universals. Bacon alone was right in altogether opposing induction to syllogism, and in finding inductive rules for the inductive process from particular instances of presence, absence in similar circumstances, and comparison.

5.Inference in General.—There are, as we have seen (ad init.), three types—syllogism, induction and analogy. Different as they are, the three kinds have something in common: first, they are all processes from similar to similar; secondly, they all consist in combining two judgments so as to cause a third, whether expressed in so many propositions or not; thirdly, as a judgment is a belief in being, they all proceed from premises which are beliefs in being to a conclusion which is a belief in being. Nevertheless, simple as this account appears, it is opposed in every point to recent logic. In the first place, the point of Bradley’s logic is that “similarity is not a principle which works. What operates is identity, and that identity is a universal.” This view makes inference easy: induction is all over before it begins; for, according to Bradley, “every one of the instances is already a universal proposition; and it is not a particular fact or phenomenon at all,” so that the moment you observe that this magnet attracts iron, youipso factoknow that every magnet does so, and all that remains for deduction is to identify a second magnet as the same with the first, and conclude that it attracts iron. In dealing with Bradley’s works we feel inclined to repeat what Aristotle says of the discourses of Socrates: they all exhibit excellence, cleverness, novelty and inquiry, but their truth is a difficult matter; and the Socratic paradox that virtue is knowledge is not more difficult than the Bradleian paradox that as two different things are the same, inference is identification. The basis of Bradley’s logic is the fallacious dialectic of Hegel’s metaphysics, founded on the supposition that two things, which are different, but have something in common, are the same. For example, according to Hegel, being and not-being are both indeterminate and therefore the same. “If,” says Bradley, “A and B, for instance, both have lungs or gills, they are so far the same.” The answer to Hegel is that being and not-being are at most similarly indeterminate, and to Bradley that each animal has its own different lungs, whereby they are only similar. If they were the same, then in descending, two things, one of which has healthy and the other diseased lungs, would be the same; and in ascending, two things, one of which has lungs and the other has not, but both of which have life,e.g.plants and animals, would be so far the same. There would be no limit to identity either downwards or upwards; so that a man would be the same as a man-of-war, and all things would be the same thing, and not different parts of one universe. But a thing which has healthy lungs and a thing which has diseased lungs are only similar individuals numerically different. Each individual thing is the same only with itself, although related to other things; and each individual of a class has its own individual, though similar, attributes. The consequence of this true metaphysics to logic is twofold: on the one hand, one singular or particular judgment,e.g.“this magnet attracts iron,” is not another,e.g.“that magnet attracts iron,” and neither is universal; on the other hand, a universal judgment,e.g.“every magnet attracts iron,” means, distributively, that each individual magnet exerts its individual attraction, though it is similar to other magnets exerting similar attractions. A universal is not “one identical point,” but one distributive whole. Hence in a syllogism, a middle term,e.g.magnets, is “absolutely the same,” not in the sense of “one identical point” making each individual the same as any other, as Bradley supposes, but only in the sense of one whole class, or total of many similar individuals,e.g.magnets, each of which is separately though similarly a magnet, not magnet in general. Hence also induction is a real process, because, when we know that this individual magnet attracts iron, we are very far from knowing that all alike do so similarly; and the question of inductive logic, how we get from some similars to all similars, remains, as before, a difficulty, but not to be solved by the fallacy that inference is identification.

Secondly, a subordinate point in Bradley’s logic is that there are inferences which are not syllogisms; and this is true. But when he goes on to propose, as a complete independent inference, “A is to the right of B, B is to the right of C, therefore A is to the right of C,” he confuses two different operations. When A, B and C are objects of sense, their relative positions are matters, not of inference, but of observation; when they are not, there is an inference, but a syllogistic inference with a major premiseinduced from previous observations, “whenever of three things the first is to the right of the second, and the second to the right of the third, the first is to the right of the third.” To reply that this universal judgment is not expressed, or that its expression is cumbrous, is no answer, because, whether expressed or not, it is required for the thought. As Aristotle puts it, the syllogism is directed “not to the outer, but to the inner discourse,” or as we should say, not to the expression but to the thought, not to the proposition but to the judgment, and to the inference not verbally but mentally. Bradley seems to suppose that the major premise of a syllogism must be explicit, or else is nothing at all. But it is often thought without being expressed, and to judge the syllogism by its mere explicit expression is to commit anignoratio elenchi; for it has been known all along that we express less than we think, and the very purpose of syllogistic logic is to analyse the whole thought necessary to the conclusion. In this syllogistic analysis two points must always be considered: one, that we usually use premises in thought which we do not express; and the other, that we sometimes use them unconsciously, and therefore infer and reason unconsciously, in the manner excellently described by Zeller in hisVorträge, iii. pp. 249-255. Inference is a deeper thinking process from judgments to judgment, which only occasionally and partially emerges in the linguistic process from propositions to proposition. We may now then reassert two points about inference against Bradley’s logic: the first, that it is a process from similar to similar, and not a process of identification, because two different things are not at all the same thing; the second, that it is the mental process from judgments to judgment rather than the linguistic process from propositions to proposition, because, besides the judgments expressed in propositions, it requires judgments which are not always expressed, and are sometimes even unconscious.

Our third point is that, as a process of judgments, inference is a process of concluding from two beliefs in being to another belief in being, and not an ideal construction, because a judgment does not always require ideas, but is always a belief about things, existing or not. This point is challenged by all the many ideal theories of judgment already quoted. If, for example, judgment were an analysis of an aggregate idea as Wundt supposes, it would certainly be true with him to conclude that “as judgment is animmediate, inference is amediate, reference of the members of an aggregate of ideas to one another.” But really a judgment is a belief that something, existing, or thinkable, or nameable or what not, is (or is not) determined; and inference is a process from and to such beliefs in being. Hence the fallacy of those who, like Bosanquet, or like Paulsen in hisEinleitung in die Philosophie, represent the realistic theory of inference as if it meant that knowledge starts from ideas and then infers that ideas are copies of things, and who then object, rightly enough, that we could not in that case compare the copy with the original, but only be able to infer from idea to idea. But there is another realism which holds that inference is a process neither from ideas to ideas, nor from ideas to things, but from beliefs to beliefs, from judgments about things in the premises to judgments about similar things in the conclusion. Logical inference never goes through the impossible process of premising nothing but ideas, and concluding that ideas are copies of things. Moreover, as we have shown, our primary judgments of sense are beliefs founded on sensations without requiring ideas, and are beliefs, not merely that something is determined, but that it is determined as existing; and, accordingly, our primary inferences from these sensory judgments of existence are inferences that other things beyond sense are similarly determined as existing. First press your lips together and then press a pen between them: you will not be conscious of perceiving any ideas: you will be conscious first of perceiving one existing lip exerting pressure reciprocally with the other existing lip; then, on putting the pen between your lips, of perceiving each lip similarly exerting pressure, but not with the other; and consequently of inferring that each existing lip is exerting pressure reciprocally with another existing body, the pen. Inference then, though it is accompanied by ideas, is not an ideal construction, nor a process from idea to idea, nor a process from idea to thing, but a process from direct to indirect beliefs in things, and originally in existing things. Logic cannot, it is true, decide what these things are, nor what the senses know about them, without appealing to metaphysics and psychology. But, as the science of inference, it can make sure that inference, on the one hand, starts from sensory judgments about sensible things and logically proceeds to inferential judgments about similar things beyond sense, and, on the other hand, cannot logically go beyond the similar. These are the limits within which logical inference works, because its nature essentially consists in proceeding from two judgments to another about similar things, existing or not.

6.Truth.—Finally, though sensory judgment is always true of its sensible object, inferential judgments are not always true, but are true so far as they are logically inferred, however indirectly, from sense; and knowledge consists of sense, memory after sense and logical inference from sense, which, we must remember, is not merely the outer sense of our five senses, but also the inner sense of ourselves as conscious thinking persons. We come then at last to the old question—what is truth? Truth proper, as Aristotle said in theMetaphysics, is in the mind: it is not being, but one’s signification of being. Its requisites are that there are things to be known and powers of knowing things. It is an attribute of judgments and derivatively of propositions. That judgment is true which apprehends a thing as it is capable of being known to be; and that proposition is true which so asserts the thing to be. Or, to combine truth in thought and in speech, the true is what signifies a thing as it is capable of being known. Secondarily, the thing itself is ambiguously said to be true in the sense of being signified as it is. For example, as I am weary and am conscious of being weary, my judgment and proposition that I am weary are true because they signify what I am and know myself to be by direct consciousness; and my being weary is ambiguously said to be true because it is so signified. But it will be said that Kant has proved that real truth, in the sense of the “agreement of knowledge with the object,” is unattainable, because we could compare knowledge with the object only by knowing both. Sigwart, indeed, adopting Kant’s argument, concludes that we must be satisfied with consistency among the thoughts which presuppose an existent; this, too, is the reason why he thinks that induction is reduction, on the theory that we can show the necessary consequence of the given particular, but that truth of fact is unattainable. But Kant’s criticism and Sigwart’s corollary only derive plausibility from a false definition of truth. Truth is not the agreement of knowledge with an object beyond itself, and thereforeex hypothesiunknowable, but the agreement of our judgments with the objects of our knowledge. A judgment is true whenever it is a belief that a thing is determined as it is known to be by sense, or by memory after sense, or by inference from sense, however indirect the inference may be, and even when in the form of inference of non-existence it extends consequently from primary to secondary judgments. Thus the judgments “this sensible pressure exists,” “that sensible pressure existed,” “other similar pressures exist,” “a conceivable centaur does not exist but is a figment,” are all equally true, because they are in accordance with one or other of these kinds of knowledge. Consequently, as knowledge is attainable by sense, memory and inference, truth is also attainable, because, though we cannot test what we know by something else, we can test what we judge and assert by what we know. Not that all inference is knowledge, but it is sometimes. The aim of logic in general is to find the laws of all inference, which, so far as it obeys those laws, is always consistent, but is true or false according to its data as well as its consistency; and the aim of the special logic of knowledge is to find the laws of direct and indirect inferences from sense, because as sense produces sensory judgments which are always true of the sensible things actually perceived, inference from sense produces inferential judgments which, so far as they are consequent on sensory judgments, are always true of things similar to sensible things, by the very consistency of inference, or, as we say, byparity of reasoning. We return then to the old view of Aristotle, that truth is believing in being; that sense is true of its immediate objects, and reasoning from sense true of its mediate objects; and that logic is the science of reasoning with a view to truth, orLogica est ars ratiocinandi, ut discernatur verum a falso. All we aspire to add is that, in order to attain to real truth, we must proceed gradually from sense, memory and experience through analogical particular inference, to inductive and deductive universal inference or reasoning. Logic is the science of all inference, beginning from sense and ending in reason.

In conclusion, the logic of the last quarter of the 19th century may be said to be animated by a spirit of inquiry, marred by a love of paradox and a corresponding hatred of tradition. But we have found, on the whole, that logical tradition rises superior to logical innovation. There are two old logics which still remain indispensable, Aristotle’sOrganonand Bacon’sNovum Organum. If, and only if, the study of deductive logic begins with Aristotle, and the study of inductive logic with Aristotle and Bacon, it will be profitable to add the works of the following recent German and English authors:—


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