[37](p. 24). In order that the procedure here might have been rendered quite exact and really exhaustive, two other very important cases would still need to have been mentioned in the lecture. The one case is that of pleasure in the bad, the other that of displeasure in the bad. If we enquire: Is pleasure in the bad good? the answer has already been given in a measure quite rightly by Aristotle: No. “No one,” he says in theNicomachian Ethics(x. 2, p. 1174 a. 1), “would wish to feel joy in what is shameful even if it were made certain to him that no harm would result therefrom.” The hedonists, to which class belonged such noble men as Fechner (cf. his work onThe Highest Good) contradicted this view. Their teaching is to be rejected; in practice as Hume has observed, they fortunately proved much better than in theory. There is still, however, a grain of truth in their view. The pleasure in the bad is, qua pleasure, good, and only at the same time bad as a wrong activity of feeling, and though, by reason of this perversion, it may be described as a preponderance of the bad, it cannot be regarded as something purely bad. While, therefore, abhorring it as bad, we are really making an act of choice in which freedom from what in the object is bad is preferred to the possession of what is good. And when we recognize the aversion as right, this is possible only because the preference has the character of rightness.The case is similar when we inquire if a similarly qualified displeasure in the bad is good, as e.g. where a noble heart feels pain on seeing the innocent oppressed, or where some one, looking back upon his past life, feels remorse at the consciousness of a bad action. Here the case is in every respect the reverse of the one preceding. Such a feeling arouses a state in which pleasure preponderates, but this pleasure is not pure; it cannot be called a pure good like the joy which would have arisen were the opposite of that over which we now mourn a fact, hence Descartes’ advice (cf. 24, p. 75)—to turn the attention and feeling in an equal degree rather to the good—would really not lose its significance. We recognize all this clearly, and have therefore, once more a preference with the character of rightness as the source of our knowledge of what is worthy of preference.In order not to introduce too many complications, I omitted in my lecture when discussing preferences to mention these cases. And this seemed to me the more admissible, because it would practically lead to the same result, if (like Aristotle in the case of disgraceful pleasure) one were to treat hate qualified as right on the one hand and love qualified as right on the other, as phenomena of simple disinclination and inclination.It may be easily seen that from these special cases of a possible determination of a quantitative relation between good and bad pleasure and displeasure, on the one hand, and of rightness and unrightness on the other hand (cf. for these also Note 31, p. 91) there is no hope of filling in the great gaps referred to in the lecture in a way valid for all cases.
[37](p. 24). In order that the procedure here might have been rendered quite exact and really exhaustive, two other very important cases would still need to have been mentioned in the lecture. The one case is that of pleasure in the bad, the other that of displeasure in the bad. If we enquire: Is pleasure in the bad good? the answer has already been given in a measure quite rightly by Aristotle: No. “No one,” he says in theNicomachian Ethics(x. 2, p. 1174 a. 1), “would wish to feel joy in what is shameful even if it were made certain to him that no harm would result therefrom.” The hedonists, to which class belonged such noble men as Fechner (cf. his work onThe Highest Good) contradicted this view. Their teaching is to be rejected; in practice as Hume has observed, they fortunately proved much better than in theory. There is still, however, a grain of truth in their view. The pleasure in the bad is, qua pleasure, good, and only at the same time bad as a wrong activity of feeling, and though, by reason of this perversion, it may be described as a preponderance of the bad, it cannot be regarded as something purely bad. While, therefore, abhorring it as bad, we are really making an act of choice in which freedom from what in the object is bad is preferred to the possession of what is good. And when we recognize the aversion as right, this is possible only because the preference has the character of rightness.
The case is similar when we inquire if a similarly qualified displeasure in the bad is good, as e.g. where a noble heart feels pain on seeing the innocent oppressed, or where some one, looking back upon his past life, feels remorse at the consciousness of a bad action. Here the case is in every respect the reverse of the one preceding. Such a feeling arouses a state in which pleasure preponderates, but this pleasure is not pure; it cannot be called a pure good like the joy which would have arisen were the opposite of that over which we now mourn a fact, hence Descartes’ advice (cf. 24, p. 75)—to turn the attention and feeling in an equal degree rather to the good—would really not lose its significance. We recognize all this clearly, and have therefore, once more a preference with the character of rightness as the source of our knowledge of what is worthy of preference.
In order not to introduce too many complications, I omitted in my lecture when discussing preferences to mention these cases. And this seemed to me the more admissible, because it would practically lead to the same result, if (like Aristotle in the case of disgraceful pleasure) one were to treat hate qualified as right on the one hand and love qualified as right on the other, as phenomena of simple disinclination and inclination.
It may be easily seen that from these special cases of a possible determination of a quantitative relation between good and bad pleasure and displeasure, on the one hand, and of rightness and unrightness on the other hand (cf. for these also Note 31, p. 91) there is no hope of filling in the great gaps referred to in the lecture in a way valid for all cases.
[38](p. 26). Cf. myPsych. from the Empirical Standpoint, book ii. chap. iv.
[38](p. 26). Cf. myPsych. from the Empirical Standpoint, book ii. chap. iv.
[39](p. 26). E. Dumont.Traités de législation civile et pénale, extraits des manuscrits de J. Bentham; espec. in the section bearing the title: “Principes des législation,” chap. iii. section 1 towards the end; chap. vi. section 2 towards the end; and chaps. viii. and ix.
[39](p. 26). E. Dumont.Traités de législation civile et pénale, extraits des manuscrits de J. Bentham; espec. in the section bearing the title: “Principes des législation,” chap. iii. section 1 towards the end; chap. vi. section 2 towards the end; and chaps. viii. and ix.
[40](p. 27). S. Rudolph Wagner.Der Kampf um die Seele, vom Standpunkt der Wissenschaft.(Sendschreiben an Herrn Leibarzt Dr. Beneke in Oldenburg.) Göttingen, 1857, p. 94 note. “Gauss said, the author (of a certain psychological work) spoke of a want of exact measurements in the case of psychical phenomena, but it would be good if we only had clumsy ones, one could then make a beginning; but we have none. There is here wanting theconditio sine quâ nonof all mathematical treatment, i.e. whether and how far the changing of an intensive into an extensive quantity is possible. Yet this is the first and indispensable condition; then there were also others. On this occasion Gauss spoke also about the usual incorrect definition of quantity as an ‘ens’ which is capable of being increased or diminished; one ought rather to say, an ‘ens’ that admits of being divided into equal parts....”
[40](p. 27). S. Rudolph Wagner.Der Kampf um die Seele, vom Standpunkt der Wissenschaft.(Sendschreiben an Herrn Leibarzt Dr. Beneke in Oldenburg.) Göttingen, 1857, p. 94 note. “Gauss said, the author (of a certain psychological work) spoke of a want of exact measurements in the case of psychical phenomena, but it would be good if we only had clumsy ones, one could then make a beginning; but we have none. There is here wanting theconditio sine quâ nonof all mathematical treatment, i.e. whether and how far the changing of an intensive into an extensive quantity is possible. Yet this is the first and indispensable condition; then there were also others. On this occasion Gauss spoke also about the usual incorrect definition of quantity as an ‘ens’ which is capable of being increased or diminished; one ought rather to say, an ‘ens’ that admits of being divided into equal parts....”
[41](p. 27). Fechner’s psycho-physical law, even were it assured, whereas it awakens continually increasing doubt and opposition, could only be used as a means of measuring the intensity of the content of certain concrete perceptions, not, however, for measuring the strength of the emotions like joy and sorrow. Attempts have been made at determining the measure of feelings by means of the involuntary movements and other externally visible changes accompanying them. Tome, this seems very much as if one were to seek to reckon the exact date of the day of the month by means of the weather. The direct inner consciousness, however imperfect its testimony may be, nevertheless offers here far more. At least one draws from the spring itself, whereas in the other case one has to do with water rendered impure by a variety of influences.
[41](p. 27). Fechner’s psycho-physical law, even were it assured, whereas it awakens continually increasing doubt and opposition, could only be used as a means of measuring the intensity of the content of certain concrete perceptions, not, however, for measuring the strength of the emotions like joy and sorrow. Attempts have been made at determining the measure of feelings by means of the involuntary movements and other externally visible changes accompanying them. Tome, this seems very much as if one were to seek to reckon the exact date of the day of the month by means of the weather. The direct inner consciousness, however imperfect its testimony may be, nevertheless offers here far more. At least one draws from the spring itself, whereas in the other case one has to do with water rendered impure by a variety of influences.
[42](p. 27). Sigwart, in hisVorfragen der Ethik(p. 42), emphasizes the fact that no more must be required from the human will than what it is able to perform. This utterance, which coming from the lips of so decided an indeterminist (cf.Logic, ii. p. 592) may especially excite surprise, hangs together with his subjective view of the good, from which view, in my opinion, there is offered no logical, normal path to the peace of all who possess a good will. (Cf. e.g. the way in which Sigwart, p. 15, passes over from egoism to regard for the general good.)But similar expressions are also heard from others. And it might really appear doubtful whether the sublime command which bids us to subordinate all our actions to the highest practical good is really the right ethical principle. For, putting aside cases of want of reflection, which do not, of course, enter here into consideration, the demand for such complete self-devotion still seems too stringent, since there is no one, however carefully he may conduct himself, who, looking sincerely into his heart, will not frequently be compelled to say with Horace:—“Nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor,Et mihi res, non me rebus subjungere conor.”And yet the doubt is unfounded, and a comparison may serve to make this clear. It is certain that no one can entirely avoid error; still, avoidable or unavoidable, every error remains a judgment, which is what it should not be, and is opposed to the indispensable demands of logic. What applies to logic in respect of weakness of thought applies to ethics on the ground of weakness of will. Ethics cannot cease to demand from a man that he should love the acknowledged good and prefer that which is recognized to be better, not putting anything else before the highest practical good. Even were it proved (which is notthe case), that in a definite class of cases all men without exception in respect of these were never able to remain true to the highest practical good, this would still not afford the slightest justification for setting aside the fundamental ethical demand. Even then it would still remain an evident and unchangeable truth, the sole and only right rule, here as everywhere, to give the preference to the better over what is less good.J. S. Mill fears that this would lead to endless self-reproaches and that these constant reproaches would embitter the life of each individual. This, however, is so little implied by the rule that it is easily demonstrable that such a result is excluded. Goethe well understood this,—“Nichts taugt Ungeduld”i.e. impatience in respect of one’s own imperfections, he says in one of his by no means lax sayings,—“Noch weniger Reue,”—giving way to the stings of conscience, when fresh joyous resolve is alone available,—“Jene vermehrt die Schuld,Diese schafft neue.”[A]
[42](p. 27). Sigwart, in hisVorfragen der Ethik(p. 42), emphasizes the fact that no more must be required from the human will than what it is able to perform. This utterance, which coming from the lips of so decided an indeterminist (cf.Logic, ii. p. 592) may especially excite surprise, hangs together with his subjective view of the good, from which view, in my opinion, there is offered no logical, normal path to the peace of all who possess a good will. (Cf. e.g. the way in which Sigwart, p. 15, passes over from egoism to regard for the general good.)
But similar expressions are also heard from others. And it might really appear doubtful whether the sublime command which bids us to subordinate all our actions to the highest practical good is really the right ethical principle. For, putting aside cases of want of reflection, which do not, of course, enter here into consideration, the demand for such complete self-devotion still seems too stringent, since there is no one, however carefully he may conduct himself, who, looking sincerely into his heart, will not frequently be compelled to say with Horace:—
“Nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor,Et mihi res, non me rebus subjungere conor.”
“Nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor,Et mihi res, non me rebus subjungere conor.”
“Nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor,Et mihi res, non me rebus subjungere conor.”
And yet the doubt is unfounded, and a comparison may serve to make this clear. It is certain that no one can entirely avoid error; still, avoidable or unavoidable, every error remains a judgment, which is what it should not be, and is opposed to the indispensable demands of logic. What applies to logic in respect of weakness of thought applies to ethics on the ground of weakness of will. Ethics cannot cease to demand from a man that he should love the acknowledged good and prefer that which is recognized to be better, not putting anything else before the highest practical good. Even were it proved (which is notthe case), that in a definite class of cases all men without exception in respect of these were never able to remain true to the highest practical good, this would still not afford the slightest justification for setting aside the fundamental ethical demand. Even then it would still remain an evident and unchangeable truth, the sole and only right rule, here as everywhere, to give the preference to the better over what is less good.
J. S. Mill fears that this would lead to endless self-reproaches and that these constant reproaches would embitter the life of each individual. This, however, is so little implied by the rule that it is easily demonstrable that such a result is excluded. Goethe well understood this,—
“Nichts taugt Ungeduld”
“Nichts taugt Ungeduld”
“Nichts taugt Ungeduld”
i.e. impatience in respect of one’s own imperfections, he says in one of his by no means lax sayings,—
“Noch weniger Reue,”
“Noch weniger Reue,”
“Noch weniger Reue,”
—giving way to the stings of conscience, when fresh joyous resolve is alone available,—
“Jene vermehrt die Schuld,Diese schafft neue.”[A]
“Jene vermehrt die Schuld,Diese schafft neue.”[A]
“Jene vermehrt die Schuld,Diese schafft neue.”[A]
[A]“Impatience naught availsNor more availeth rue,One addeth to the fault,The other maketh new.”—Tr.In an album I once found in the hand of the pious Abbot Haneberg, afterwards Bishop of Spires, the following lines, written to the same effect:—“Sonne dich mit Lust an Gottes Huld,Hab’ mit allen—auch mit dir, Geduld.”[B]
[A]
“Impatience naught availsNor more availeth rue,One addeth to the fault,The other maketh new.”—Tr.
“Impatience naught availsNor more availeth rue,One addeth to the fault,The other maketh new.”—Tr.
“Impatience naught availsNor more availeth rue,One addeth to the fault,The other maketh new.”—Tr.
In an album I once found in the hand of the pious Abbot Haneberg, afterwards Bishop of Spires, the following lines, written to the same effect:—
“Sonne dich mit Lust an Gottes Huld,Hab’ mit allen—auch mit dir, Geduld.”[B]
“Sonne dich mit Lust an Gottes Huld,Hab’ mit allen—auch mit dir, Geduld.”[B]
“Sonne dich mit Lust an Gottes Huld,Hab’ mit allen—auch mit dir, Geduld.”[B]
[B]“Bathe thyself with delight in the sunshine of heavenly grace,Let patience toward all men abound—e’en with thyself find a place.”—Tr.
[B]
“Bathe thyself with delight in the sunshine of heavenly grace,Let patience toward all men abound—e’en with thyself find a place.”—Tr.
“Bathe thyself with delight in the sunshine of heavenly grace,Let patience toward all men abound—e’en with thyself find a place.”—Tr.
“Bathe thyself with delight in the sunshine of heavenly grace,Let patience toward all men abound—e’en with thyself find a place.”—Tr.
[43](p. 28). It is necessary to be on one’s guard against drawing from the principle of love of our neighbour the conclusion that each has tocare forevery other individual in the same degree as for himself, which, far from conducing towards the universal good, would rather essentially prejudice it. Thisis seen by reflecting on the circumstance that to ourselves we stand in a position different from that in which we stand to everybody else, while again in respect of these others we are in a position to help, or to injure, one more, the other less. If there are human beings in Mars the inhabitants of the earth can and ought to wish them good also, not however to strive after their good in the same manner as for himself and his fellow-men.It is in this connexion that the injunction to take thought in the first instance for oneself, a precept to be found in every system of morality, is justifiable: “γνῷθι σαυτόν,” “Sweep before your own doorstep,” etc. The demand to seek first of all the welfare of wife and child, home and fatherland, is also universal. The command: “Take no thought for the morrow,” in the sense in which it really offers wise counsel, also flows as a result from the same source. That my future happiness ought not to be sodearto me as my present happiness is not here implied.So regarded, the communistic doctrines which illogical impetuosity would seek to derive from the lofty principle of universal brotherhood are shown to be unjustifiable.
[43](p. 28). It is necessary to be on one’s guard against drawing from the principle of love of our neighbour the conclusion that each has tocare forevery other individual in the same degree as for himself, which, far from conducing towards the universal good, would rather essentially prejudice it. Thisis seen by reflecting on the circumstance that to ourselves we stand in a position different from that in which we stand to everybody else, while again in respect of these others we are in a position to help, or to injure, one more, the other less. If there are human beings in Mars the inhabitants of the earth can and ought to wish them good also, not however to strive after their good in the same manner as for himself and his fellow-men.
It is in this connexion that the injunction to take thought in the first instance for oneself, a precept to be found in every system of morality, is justifiable: “γνῷθι σαυτόν,” “Sweep before your own doorstep,” etc. The demand to seek first of all the welfare of wife and child, home and fatherland, is also universal. The command: “Take no thought for the morrow,” in the sense in which it really offers wise counsel, also flows as a result from the same source. That my future happiness ought not to be sodearto me as my present happiness is not here implied.
So regarded, the communistic doctrines which illogical impetuosity would seek to derive from the lofty principle of universal brotherhood are shown to be unjustifiable.
[44](p. 29). The fact that we are often unable to measure the more remote results of our actions offers a more serious difficulty.But even this thought will not discourage us if we love the universal good. It may be said of all results which are unrecognizable in an exactly equal degree, that one has just as many chances in its favour as the others. According to the law of great numbers a compensation will on the whole result, and so whatever calculable good we create will stand as a plus on the one side and, just as though it stood alone, will justify our choice.From the same point of view, as I have already suggested in the lecture (p. 22), the doubt is removed which in a similar manner might arise through uncertainty as to whether everything that is good draws from us a love having the qualification of rightness, and whether, therefore, we are able to recognize it as good and to take due account of it.
[44](p. 29). The fact that we are often unable to measure the more remote results of our actions offers a more serious difficulty.
But even this thought will not discourage us if we love the universal good. It may be said of all results which are unrecognizable in an exactly equal degree, that one has just as many chances in its favour as the others. According to the law of great numbers a compensation will on the whole result, and so whatever calculable good we create will stand as a plus on the one side and, just as though it stood alone, will justify our choice.
From the same point of view, as I have already suggested in the lecture (p. 22), the doubt is removed which in a similar manner might arise through uncertainty as to whether everything that is good draws from us a love having the qualification of rightness, and whether, therefore, we are able to recognize it as good and to take due account of it.
[45](p. 29). That in the case of the limits of right (Rechtsgrenzen) we have essentially to do with spheres which lie at the disposal of the individual will has been frequently emphasized both by philosophers (cf. in this respect e.g. Herbart’s Idea of Right) and by able jurists. Ihering in hisGeist des römischen Rechts, iii. 1 (p. 320 note), demonstrates this with numerous citations. Arndt e.g. in hisHandbuch der Pandektendefines law as “supremacy of the will regarding an object”; for Sintenis it is, “the will of one person raised to the universal will.” Windscheid defines it as “a certain volition (Willensinhalt) of which the legal code in a concrete case affirms that it may be made valid as against every other will.” Puchta, who has perhaps expressed the thought in the most manifold ways, says in his digest of Roman law, section 22, “as the subjects of such awillthought of potentially men are called persons, ... personality is therefore the subjective possibility of the legalized will, of a legal power.” In the same work (section 118, note b) he observes in regard to a want of personality: “The principle of modern law is inability to dispose of property”; many other of his expressions convey the same meaning.As however these legal authorities have concentrated their attention exclusively upon legal duties, and do not touch upon the problem as to the way in which the individual will has to rule in its legal sphere, Ihering has interpreted them as meaning that they considered the true and highest good, and the most intrinsic and final end, towards which the legal code strives, to be the exercise of the will as will, the joy of the individual in his volitional activity; “the final end of all law is, for them, willing” (pp. 320, 325); “the end of law (according to them) consists once for all in the power of the will, in its supremacy” (p. 326). One can well understand how he comes to condemn a theory so interpreted (p. 327), and even that he succeeds in making it appear ridiculous. “According to this view,” he says, (p. 320) “all private right is nothing less than an arena in which the will moves and exercises itself; the will is the organ by which the individual enjoys his right, the profit obtained from legal right consists in feeling the joy and glory of power, in the satisfaction of having realized an act of will, e.g. of having effected a mortgage, transferred a title, and so proved oneself to be a legal personality. What a poor thing would the will be if the bare and low regions of law were the proper “sphere of its activity!”Certainly the heaviest charges of absurdity and ridiculousness would be well deserved if those scholars who regard theimmediateaim of law as consisting in a limitation of the spheres at the disposal of the will had intended in so doing to disavow all regard for thefinal ethical end, i.e. the advancement of the highest practical good. There is, however, absolutely nothing to justify this insinuation, and therefore one could perhaps with more right smile at the zeal of an attack which is really levelled merely against windmills. Moreover, what Ihering proposes to set in its place is certainly a bad substitute. For, in regarding the sphere ascribed by the legal authority to the individual simply as a sphere consigned to their egoism (a view which, as the author ofDer Zweck im Recht, he perhaps no longer holds), he is thus led to his definition: “Law (Recht) is legal security for enjoyment,” whereas he would have been more correct in saying: “Law is legal security for the undisturbed disposal of individual power in the advancement of the highest good.” Is then injustice something which exhausts bad conduct? By no means; legal duties have limits; duty in general governs all our actions, and this our popular religion expressly emphasizes, as, for instance, when it asserts that for every idle word the individual must render an account.Besides this first objection, which rests upon a simple misunderstanding of the intention, Ihering has also raised several others which are essentially due to imperfections in the use of language. If the legal code essentially consists in setting certain limits to the activity of the individual will in order that one person may not disturb the other in striving after the good, it follows that he who has, or had, or will have no will has also no legal sphere. I say, “has, or had, or will have,” for obviously regard must be paid to the past and to the future. A dead man often exercises an influence extending into the far distant future, so that Comte well says: the living are more and more dominated by the dead. In like manner, the situation will entail that, in respect of many problems, we leave the decision to the future, i.e. renounce the sovereignty in favour of a future will. This consideration resolves many a paradox urged by Ihering (pp. 320-325); not however, all. In the case of one who from birth has been an incurable imbecile, it is obvious that no power of will whatever can be found, to which regard for the highest practical good might allow a sphere; there remains therefore to him, according to our view, really no legal sphere, and yet on every hand we hear of a right which he possesses in his own life; even under some circumstances, we refer to him as the owner of a great estate, or ascribe to him the right of a crown or kingly rule. On examining the relations closely, we find that we are never concerned here with a true legal sphere respecting a subject incapable of being held responsible, but rather with the legal spheres of other individuals, as, for example, that of a father who, in providing for his imbecile child, gives instructions in his will concerning his property, the dominion of whose will is safeguarded after his death by the law of the land; or (as, for example, the case where the imbecile’s life is held to be sacred), quite apart from the injury done to the simple duty of affection which this would involve, there is also in question the State’s legal sphere, which permits no one else to commit a fatal attack, and accordingly often imposes a punishment, even in the case of an attempt at suicide.A third objection of Ihering’s, i.e. that by a limitation of rights as affecting spheres of will, even the most senseless dispositions of will must be allowed legal validity (p. 325), this offers, after what has been said, hardly any further difficulty. Certainly many a foolish disposition of will must be allowed. Were the State not to admit this, then it alone would possess a definitive right of disposal; all private right would be at an end. So long as not merely subjects, but also governments, are liable to commit acts of foolishness, such an extension of the power of the State cannot be recommended. For the rest, just as secondary ethical rules in general suffer exceptions, and in particular expropriations in the case of private owners are frequently necessary, so also it is clear and to be admitted without contradiction, that senseless dispositions or dispositions which have evidently lost all meaning and reference to the highest practical good can be annulled by the State. Regard for the highest practical good is here, as is the case of every other so-called collision of duties, decisive.
[45](p. 29). That in the case of the limits of right (Rechtsgrenzen) we have essentially to do with spheres which lie at the disposal of the individual will has been frequently emphasized both by philosophers (cf. in this respect e.g. Herbart’s Idea of Right) and by able jurists. Ihering in hisGeist des römischen Rechts, iii. 1 (p. 320 note), demonstrates this with numerous citations. Arndt e.g. in hisHandbuch der Pandektendefines law as “supremacy of the will regarding an object”; for Sintenis it is, “the will of one person raised to the universal will.” Windscheid defines it as “a certain volition (Willensinhalt) of which the legal code in a concrete case affirms that it may be made valid as against every other will.” Puchta, who has perhaps expressed the thought in the most manifold ways, says in his digest of Roman law, section 22, “as the subjects of such awillthought of potentially men are called persons, ... personality is therefore the subjective possibility of the legalized will, of a legal power.” In the same work (section 118, note b) he observes in regard to a want of personality: “The principle of modern law is inability to dispose of property”; many other of his expressions convey the same meaning.
As however these legal authorities have concentrated their attention exclusively upon legal duties, and do not touch upon the problem as to the way in which the individual will has to rule in its legal sphere, Ihering has interpreted them as meaning that they considered the true and highest good, and the most intrinsic and final end, towards which the legal code strives, to be the exercise of the will as will, the joy of the individual in his volitional activity; “the final end of all law is, for them, willing” (pp. 320, 325); “the end of law (according to them) consists once for all in the power of the will, in its supremacy” (p. 326). One can well understand how he comes to condemn a theory so interpreted (p. 327), and even that he succeeds in making it appear ridiculous. “According to this view,” he says, (p. 320) “all private right is nothing less than an arena in which the will moves and exercises itself; the will is the organ by which the individual enjoys his right, the profit obtained from legal right consists in feeling the joy and glory of power, in the satisfaction of having realized an act of will, e.g. of having effected a mortgage, transferred a title, and so proved oneself to be a legal personality. What a poor thing would the will be if the bare and low regions of law were the proper “sphere of its activity!”
Certainly the heaviest charges of absurdity and ridiculousness would be well deserved if those scholars who regard theimmediateaim of law as consisting in a limitation of the spheres at the disposal of the will had intended in so doing to disavow all regard for thefinal ethical end, i.e. the advancement of the highest practical good. There is, however, absolutely nothing to justify this insinuation, and therefore one could perhaps with more right smile at the zeal of an attack which is really levelled merely against windmills. Moreover, what Ihering proposes to set in its place is certainly a bad substitute. For, in regarding the sphere ascribed by the legal authority to the individual simply as a sphere consigned to their egoism (a view which, as the author ofDer Zweck im Recht, he perhaps no longer holds), he is thus led to his definition: “Law (Recht) is legal security for enjoyment,” whereas he would have been more correct in saying: “Law is legal security for the undisturbed disposal of individual power in the advancement of the highest good.” Is then injustice something which exhausts bad conduct? By no means; legal duties have limits; duty in general governs all our actions, and this our popular religion expressly emphasizes, as, for instance, when it asserts that for every idle word the individual must render an account.
Besides this first objection, which rests upon a simple misunderstanding of the intention, Ihering has also raised several others which are essentially due to imperfections in the use of language. If the legal code essentially consists in setting certain limits to the activity of the individual will in order that one person may not disturb the other in striving after the good, it follows that he who has, or had, or will have no will has also no legal sphere. I say, “has, or had, or will have,” for obviously regard must be paid to the past and to the future. A dead man often exercises an influence extending into the far distant future, so that Comte well says: the living are more and more dominated by the dead. In like manner, the situation will entail that, in respect of many problems, we leave the decision to the future, i.e. renounce the sovereignty in favour of a future will. This consideration resolves many a paradox urged by Ihering (pp. 320-325); not however, all. In the case of one who from birth has been an incurable imbecile, it is obvious that no power of will whatever can be found, to which regard for the highest practical good might allow a sphere; there remains therefore to him, according to our view, really no legal sphere, and yet on every hand we hear of a right which he possesses in his own life; even under some circumstances, we refer to him as the owner of a great estate, or ascribe to him the right of a crown or kingly rule. On examining the relations closely, we find that we are never concerned here with a true legal sphere respecting a subject incapable of being held responsible, but rather with the legal spheres of other individuals, as, for example, that of a father who, in providing for his imbecile child, gives instructions in his will concerning his property, the dominion of whose will is safeguarded after his death by the law of the land; or (as, for example, the case where the imbecile’s life is held to be sacred), quite apart from the injury done to the simple duty of affection which this would involve, there is also in question the State’s legal sphere, which permits no one else to commit a fatal attack, and accordingly often imposes a punishment, even in the case of an attempt at suicide.
A third objection of Ihering’s, i.e. that by a limitation of rights as affecting spheres of will, even the most senseless dispositions of will must be allowed legal validity (p. 325), this offers, after what has been said, hardly any further difficulty. Certainly many a foolish disposition of will must be allowed. Were the State not to admit this, then it alone would possess a definitive right of disposal; all private right would be at an end. So long as not merely subjects, but also governments, are liable to commit acts of foolishness, such an extension of the power of the State cannot be recommended. For the rest, just as secondary ethical rules in general suffer exceptions, and in particular expropriations in the case of private owners are frequently necessary, so also it is clear and to be admitted without contradiction, that senseless dispositions or dispositions which have evidently lost all meaning and reference to the highest practical good can be annulled by the State. Regard for the highest practical good is here, as is the case of every other so-called collision of duties, decisive.
[46](p. 29). That a law, which in and for itself is bad and contrary to nature, however condemnable from an ethical point of view, and its modification urgently necessary, may yet in many cases receive a provisional sanction from the reason, this has long been recognized and made clear, as e.g. by Bentham in hisTraités de Législation civ. et pén.In antiquity Socrates, who deemed himself worthy to be feasted in the Prytaneum, died for the sake of this conviction. The positive legal code, despite all its defects, creates a condition of things which is better than anarchy, and since each act of insubordination to the law threatens to injure its force in general, so in those circumstances brought about by the law itself, it may be that provisionally and for the individual a mode of action even from the rational standpoint is right, which, apart from this, would be in no way justifiable. All this results without doubt from the relativity of the secondary ethical rules, which will be treated later.It may be added that errors respecting the laws of positive morality (a point shortly to be discussed in the lecture) in a similar way demand, under certain circumstances, to be taken into account.It dare not, on the other hand, be overlooked that there are here limits, and that the saying: “We ought to obey God rather than man,” may not, in its free and sublime range, be allowed to suffer injury.
[46](p. 29). That a law, which in and for itself is bad and contrary to nature, however condemnable from an ethical point of view, and its modification urgently necessary, may yet in many cases receive a provisional sanction from the reason, this has long been recognized and made clear, as e.g. by Bentham in hisTraités de Législation civ. et pén.In antiquity Socrates, who deemed himself worthy to be feasted in the Prytaneum, died for the sake of this conviction. The positive legal code, despite all its defects, creates a condition of things which is better than anarchy, and since each act of insubordination to the law threatens to injure its force in general, so in those circumstances brought about by the law itself, it may be that provisionally and for the individual a mode of action even from the rational standpoint is right, which, apart from this, would be in no way justifiable. All this results without doubt from the relativity of the secondary ethical rules, which will be treated later.
It may be added that errors respecting the laws of positive morality (a point shortly to be discussed in the lecture) in a similar way demand, under certain circumstances, to be taken into account.
It dare not, on the other hand, be overlooked that there are here limits, and that the saying: “We ought to obey God rather than man,” may not, in its free and sublime range, be allowed to suffer injury.
[47](p. 29). Heraclitus of Ephesus (B.C.500), the oldest of the Greek philosophers, of whose philosophy we possess rather extensive fragments.
[47](p. 29). Heraclitus of Ephesus (B.C.500), the oldest of the Greek philosophers, of whose philosophy we possess rather extensive fragments.
[48](p. 31). Ihering,Der Zweck im Recht, vol. ii. p. 119, and other passages.
[48](p. 31). Ihering,Der Zweck im Recht, vol. ii. p. 119, and other passages.
[49](p. 31).Politics, vol. i. chap. 5.
[49](p. 31).Politics, vol. i. chap. 5.
[50](p. 31).Nic. Ethics, v. 14, p. 1137 b. 13.Politics, iii. and iv.
[50](p. 31).Nic. Ethics, v. 14, p. 1137 b. 13.Politics, iii. and iv.
[51](p. 31). Cf. Discours préliminaire to theTraités de Législation, also the section “De l’influence des temps et des lieux en matière de législation” of that work.
[51](p. 31). Cf. Discours préliminaire to theTraités de Législation, also the section “De l’influence des temps et des lieux en matière de législation” of that work.
[52](p. 31).Philos. Versuch über die Wahrscheinlichkeiten von Laplace, translated from the sixth edition of the original text by N. Schwaiger, Leipzig, 1886, p. 93 seq. (Application of the calculation of probabilities to moral science.)
[52](p. 31).Philos. Versuch über die Wahrscheinlichkeiten von Laplace, translated from the sixth edition of the original text by N. Schwaiger, Leipzig, 1886, p. 93 seq. (Application of the calculation of probabilities to moral science.)
[53](p. 32). Cf.Allg. Juristenzeitung, vii. p. 171;Zweck im Recht, vol. ii. p. 118; 122 seq.
[53](p. 32). Cf.Allg. Juristenzeitung, vii. p. 171;Zweck im Recht, vol. ii. p. 118; 122 seq.
[54](p. 33).Grundlegung zur Physik der Sitten.Cf. above note 14, p. 49.
[54](p. 33).Grundlegung zur Physik der Sitten.Cf. above note 14, p. 49.
[55](p. 34). Cf. e.g. the Meno dialogue.
[55](p. 34). Cf. e.g. the Meno dialogue.
[56](p. 34). Friedr. Alb. Lange,Logische Studien, ein Beitrag zur Neubegründung der formalen Logik und der Erkenntnislehre. Iserlohn, 1877.
[56](p. 34). Friedr. Alb. Lange,Logische Studien, ein Beitrag zur Neubegründung der formalen Logik und der Erkenntnislehre. Iserlohn, 1877.
[57](p. 34). Alex. Bain,Logic, pt. 1. Deduction. London, 1870, p. 159 seq.
[57](p. 34). Alex. Bain,Logic, pt. 1. Deduction. London, 1870, p. 159 seq.
[58](p. 35). e.g. Bentham, also, in antiquity, Epicurus.
[58](p. 35). e.g. Bentham, also, in antiquity, Epicurus.
[59](p. 35). e.g. Plato and Aristotle, and following them Thomas Aquinas.
[59](p. 35). e.g. Plato and Aristotle, and following them Thomas Aquinas.
[60](p. 35). The Stoics, and in the Middle Ages, the followers of Scotus.
[60](p. 35). The Stoics, and in the Middle Ages, the followers of Scotus.
[61](p. 36). This even Epicurus did not deny (little in harmony as it is with his utterance quoted p. 54).
[61](p. 36). This even Epicurus did not deny (little in harmony as it is with his utterance quoted p. 54).
[62](p. 36).Nic. Ethics, I. i.
[62](p. 36).Nic. Ethics, I. i.
[63](p. 36).Metaph.Δ 10.
[63](p. 36).Metaph.Δ 10.
[64](p. 36).Metaph.Δ 10.
[64](p. 36).Metaph.Δ 10.
[65](p. 36). They made the relation to the greater whole serve as an argument in favour of the view that the practical life (of the politician) stands higher than that of the theorist.
[65](p. 36). They made the relation to the greater whole serve as an argument in favour of the view that the practical life (of the politician) stands higher than that of the theorist.
[66](p. 36). This testimony to the principle of summation likewise reappears as often as in a theory based upon egoistic and utilitarian grounds, the notion of God is employed in the construction of ethics (e.g. Locke; Fechner in his work on the highest good; cf. also for Leibnitz, Trendelenburg,Histor. Beiträge, vol. ii. p. 245). God, so runs their argument, loves each of His creatures, and therefore their totality more than the single individual; He therefore approves and rewards the sacrifice of the individual to the whole, while disapproving and punishing self-seeking injury.In the desire after immortality also, the influence of the principle of summation is manifest. Thus Helmholtz, (über die Entstehung des Planetensystems, lecture delivered at Heidelberg and Cologne, 1871), in seeking to offer a hopeful prospect to those who cherish this desire, says: “The individual (if that which we achieve can ennoble the lives of those who succeed us) may face fearlessly the thought that the thread of his own consciousness will one day be broken. But to the thought of a final annihilation of the race of living mortals, and with them, the fruits of the striving of all past generations, even men of minds so unfettered and great as Lessing and David Strauss could scarcely reconcile themselves.” When it is scientifically shown that the earth will one day be incapable of supporting living beings, then, he thinks, the need of immortality will irresistibly return, and we shall feel bound to cast about for something which will afford us the possibility of assuming it.
[66](p. 36). This testimony to the principle of summation likewise reappears as often as in a theory based upon egoistic and utilitarian grounds, the notion of God is employed in the construction of ethics (e.g. Locke; Fechner in his work on the highest good; cf. also for Leibnitz, Trendelenburg,Histor. Beiträge, vol. ii. p. 245). God, so runs their argument, loves each of His creatures, and therefore their totality more than the single individual; He therefore approves and rewards the sacrifice of the individual to the whole, while disapproving and punishing self-seeking injury.
In the desire after immortality also, the influence of the principle of summation is manifest. Thus Helmholtz, (über die Entstehung des Planetensystems, lecture delivered at Heidelberg and Cologne, 1871), in seeking to offer a hopeful prospect to those who cherish this desire, says: “The individual (if that which we achieve can ennoble the lives of those who succeed us) may face fearlessly the thought that the thread of his own consciousness will one day be broken. But to the thought of a final annihilation of the race of living mortals, and with them, the fruits of the striving of all past generations, even men of minds so unfettered and great as Lessing and David Strauss could scarcely reconcile themselves.” When it is scientifically shown that the earth will one day be incapable of supporting living beings, then, he thinks, the need of immortality will irresistibly return, and we shall feel bound to cast about for something which will afford us the possibility of assuming it.
[67](p. 34).Metaph.Δ 10.
[67](p. 34).Metaph.Δ 10.
[68](p. 37). This is the standing doctrine of the great theologians, as e.g. Thomas Aquinas in hisSumma Theologica. Only certain nominalists, like Robert Holcot, teach the complete arbitrariness of the divine commands. Cf. my essay on theGeschichte der kirchlichen Wissenschaften im Mittelalter, in Möhler’sChurch History(published by Gams, 1867) vol. ii. 526 seq., respecting which, however, the reader is asked not to overlook the revision of the printer’s errors in the “errata,” p. 103 seq., at the end of that work.
[68](p. 37). This is the standing doctrine of the great theologians, as e.g. Thomas Aquinas in hisSumma Theologica. Only certain nominalists, like Robert Holcot, teach the complete arbitrariness of the divine commands. Cf. my essay on theGeschichte der kirchlichen Wissenschaften im Mittelalter, in Möhler’sChurch History(published by Gams, 1867) vol. ii. 526 seq., respecting which, however, the reader is asked not to overlook the revision of the printer’s errors in the “errata,” p. 103 seq., at the end of that work.
[69](p. 39). At a time when psychology was far less advanced and inquiries into the province of the calculation of probability had not brought sufficient clearness into the process of rational induction, it was possible even for a Hume to fall a victim to this gross confusion. Cf. hisEnq. concern. Hum. Underst., chaps. v. and vi. More striking is it that James Mill and Herbert Spencer have still not advanced in the slightest degree beyond Hume; (Cf.Anal. of the Phen. of the Hum. Mind, vol. ii. chap. ix. and note 108), and that even the acute thinker, J. S. Mill, although Laplace’sEssai Philosophique sur les Probabilitéslay at his disposal, never arrived at a clear distinction of the essential difference between these two forms of procedure. This hangs together with his failure to appreciate the purely analytic character of mathematics and the import of the deductive procedure in general. Indeed he has absolutely denied that the syllogism leads to new knowledge. Whoever bases the whole of mathematics upon induction cannot possibly justify mathematically the inductive procedure. It would be for him acirculus vitiosus. It is here beyond question that Jevon’sLogictakes a truer view.Even in the case of Mill, it sometimes appears as if an inkling of the immense difference had begun to dawn upon him, as when, in a note to hisAnalysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind(vol. i., chap. xi. p. 407), in criticizing his father’s theory, he says: “If belief is only an inseparable association, belief is a matter ofhabitand accident and not of reason. Assuredly an association, however close, between two ideas is not a sufficientground(the italics are his own) of belief; it is not evidence that the corresponding facts are united in external nature. The theory seems to annihilate all distinction between the belief of the wise,which is regulated by evidenceand conforms to the real successions and co-existences of the facts of the universe, and the belief of foolswhich is mechanically producedby any accidental association that suggests the idea of a succession or co-existence to the mind; a belief aptly characterized by the popular expression, believing a thing because they have taken it into their heads.” This is all excellent. But it is robbed of its most essential worth, when, in a later note (vol. i. p. 438. note 110) we hear J. S. Mill say: “It must be conceded to him (the author of theAnalysis) that an association sufficiently strong to exclude all ideas that would exclude itself,produces a kind of mechanical belief, and that the processes by which the belief is corrected, or reduced to rational bounds,all consist in the growth of a counter-associationtending to raise the idea of a disappointment of the first expectation, and as the one or the other prevails in the particular case, the belief or expectation exists or does not exist exactly as if the belief were the same thing with the association,” and so on.There is much here that calls for criticism. When ideas are mentioned which mutually exclude one another it may well be asked what kind of ideas these are? According to another utterance of Mill’s (vol. i. p. 98 seq. note 30 and elsewhere), he knows “no case of absolute incompatibility of thought except between the thought of the presence of something and that of its absence.” But are even these incompatible? Mill himself teaches elsewhere the very opposite when he thinks that along with the idea of existence there is always given at the same time the idea of non-existence (p. 126, note 39; “we are only conscious,” he says, “of the presence of an object by comparison with its absence”). Apart, however, from all this, how strange is it that Mill here overlooks the fact that he abandons entirely the distinctive character of self-evidence, and retains only that blind and mechanical formation of judgment, which he rightly treats with contempt. The sceptic Hume stands in this respect far higher, since he at least sees that such an empirical (empiristisch) view of the process of induction does not satisfy the requirements of our reason. Sigwart’s criticism of Mill’s theory of Induction (Logic, vol. ii. p. 371) contains here much that is true, though in appealing to his postulates he has certainly not substituted anything truly satisfactory in the place of what is defective in Mill.
[69](p. 39). At a time when psychology was far less advanced and inquiries into the province of the calculation of probability had not brought sufficient clearness into the process of rational induction, it was possible even for a Hume to fall a victim to this gross confusion. Cf. hisEnq. concern. Hum. Underst., chaps. v. and vi. More striking is it that James Mill and Herbert Spencer have still not advanced in the slightest degree beyond Hume; (Cf.Anal. of the Phen. of the Hum. Mind, vol. ii. chap. ix. and note 108), and that even the acute thinker, J. S. Mill, although Laplace’sEssai Philosophique sur les Probabilitéslay at his disposal, never arrived at a clear distinction of the essential difference between these two forms of procedure. This hangs together with his failure to appreciate the purely analytic character of mathematics and the import of the deductive procedure in general. Indeed he has absolutely denied that the syllogism leads to new knowledge. Whoever bases the whole of mathematics upon induction cannot possibly justify mathematically the inductive procedure. It would be for him acirculus vitiosus. It is here beyond question that Jevon’sLogictakes a truer view.
Even in the case of Mill, it sometimes appears as if an inkling of the immense difference had begun to dawn upon him, as when, in a note to hisAnalysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind(vol. i., chap. xi. p. 407), in criticizing his father’s theory, he says: “If belief is only an inseparable association, belief is a matter ofhabitand accident and not of reason. Assuredly an association, however close, between two ideas is not a sufficientground(the italics are his own) of belief; it is not evidence that the corresponding facts are united in external nature. The theory seems to annihilate all distinction between the belief of the wise,which is regulated by evidenceand conforms to the real successions and co-existences of the facts of the universe, and the belief of foolswhich is mechanically producedby any accidental association that suggests the idea of a succession or co-existence to the mind; a belief aptly characterized by the popular expression, believing a thing because they have taken it into their heads.” This is all excellent. But it is robbed of its most essential worth, when, in a later note (vol. i. p. 438. note 110) we hear J. S. Mill say: “It must be conceded to him (the author of theAnalysis) that an association sufficiently strong to exclude all ideas that would exclude itself,produces a kind of mechanical belief, and that the processes by which the belief is corrected, or reduced to rational bounds,all consist in the growth of a counter-associationtending to raise the idea of a disappointment of the first expectation, and as the one or the other prevails in the particular case, the belief or expectation exists or does not exist exactly as if the belief were the same thing with the association,” and so on.
There is much here that calls for criticism. When ideas are mentioned which mutually exclude one another it may well be asked what kind of ideas these are? According to another utterance of Mill’s (vol. i. p. 98 seq. note 30 and elsewhere), he knows “no case of absolute incompatibility of thought except between the thought of the presence of something and that of its absence.” But are even these incompatible? Mill himself teaches elsewhere the very opposite when he thinks that along with the idea of existence there is always given at the same time the idea of non-existence (p. 126, note 39; “we are only conscious,” he says, “of the presence of an object by comparison with its absence”). Apart, however, from all this, how strange is it that Mill here overlooks the fact that he abandons entirely the distinctive character of self-evidence, and retains only that blind and mechanical formation of judgment, which he rightly treats with contempt. The sceptic Hume stands in this respect far higher, since he at least sees that such an empirical (empiristisch) view of the process of induction does not satisfy the requirements of our reason. Sigwart’s criticism of Mill’s theory of Induction (Logic, vol. ii. p. 371) contains here much that is true, though in appealing to his postulates he has certainly not substituted anything truly satisfactory in the place of what is defective in Mill.
[70](p. 40). Cf. Hume,Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, vol. ii. towards the end.
[70](p. 40). Cf. Hume,Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, vol. ii. towards the end.
[71](p. 40).Nic. Ethics, iii. 10. Cf. the subtle discussions in the subsequent chapter on the five kinds of false courage.
[71](p. 40).Nic. Ethics, iii. 10. Cf. the subtle discussions in the subsequent chapter on the five kinds of false courage.
[72](p. 41).Nic. Ethics, i. 2.
[72](p. 41).Nic. Ethics, i. 2.
“Subjectlesspropositions” so the celebrated philologer has entitled a little work which, on its first appearance, bore the title,The Verba Impersonalia in the Slav Languages.
The change of name may well be connected with considerable additions in the second edition. The new designation would, however, even in the earlier form, have been the more suitable title. For, far from treating the special nature of merelyonefamily of languages, the author sets up a theory of wide-reaching significance, which, while contradicting the prevailing view, only deserves all the more on this account general attention. Not only philology, but also psychology and metaphysics have an interest in the problem. Moreover, the new doctrine promised to bring profit not only to the inquirer in these lofty spheres but also to the schoolboy at present tortured by the school-master with impossible and incomprehensible theories (cf. p. 23 seq.).
Such an influence, however, the treatise has not exercised. The earlier views still hold unbroken sway even to-day, and although the appearance of the monograph in a new edition bears testimony to a certain interest in wider circles, this is manifestly not due to the circumstance that the work was believed to have thrown light upon old doubts and errors. Darwin’s epoch-making work, quite apart from the truth of its hypothesis, had, even for its opponents, an indisputable worth; the wealth of important observations and ingenious combinations every one had to acknowledge with admiration. So also in the case of Miklosich, who has compressed into a few pages a rich store oflearning and interspersed the most subtle observations. Many who have withheld their assent to his principal thesis may still feel indebted to him for many points of detail.
Here, however, we wish chiefly to consider the main problem and, very briefly, to make ourselves clear respecting that with which it really deals.
It is an old assertion of logic that the judgment consists essentially in a binding or separating, in a relation of ideas to one another. This view, almost unanimously maintained for two thousand years, has exercised an influence upon other disciplines. And so we find grammarians from very early times teaching that no more simple form of expression in the case of the judgment exists, or can exist, than the categorical, which combines a subject with a predicate.
That the carrying out of this doctrine brings with it difficulties could not, of course, be permanently concealed. Propositions like: it rains, it lightens, appear as though they had no wish to conform to this view. Yet none the less the majority of inquirers were so firmly convinced, that in such cases they felt compelled, not so much to doubt the universal validity of their theory as rather to search for the subjects, which in their view were only apparently missing. Many really believed themselves to be in possession of the same. Now, however, in marked contrast to the unity which had hitherto prevailed, they branched off in the most varied directions. And if we examine somewhat closely and in detail the various attempts at an explanation, we shall easily be able to understand, why none of these were able to give permanent satisfaction, or even for a time to bring about unanimity.
Science explains by reason of its comprehending a multiplicity as a unity. Here also, of course, every effort has been made to accomplish this, but every attempt has proved futile. When we say: it rains, many have supposed that the unnamed subject denoted by the indefinite “it” is “Zeus”: Zeus rains. But when we say: “es rauscht,” it is obvious that Zeus cannot be the subject. Others again have thought that the subject is here “das Rauschen”; consequently the meaning of the proposition would be: “das Rauschen rauscht.” The previousexample they also completed in the same manner: “Raining, (or the rain) rains.”
When, however, we now say: “es fehlt an Geld,” the meaning must therefore be: “das Fehlen an Geld fehlt an Geld.” But this is absurd. It was therefore explained that the subject here is “Geld,” and the meaning of the proposition is: “Geld fehlt an Geld.” Closely examined, this would seem to strike a blow at the wished-for unity of explanation. If, however, by closing one eye, the failure here may be partially ignored, even this is useless when we stumble upon propositions like: “es giebt einen Gott,” respecting which we arrive at no satisfactory meaning either in the proposition: “das einen Gott geben giebt einen Gott; das Geben giebt einen Gott,” or in the proposition, “Gott giebt einen Gott.”
It was therefore necessary to look for an explanation of an entirely different character. But where was such an explanation to be found? And even if ingenuity were here able to hit upon some expedient, what availed such leaping from case to case, which could only be called the caricature of a truly scientific explanation? Not a single designation of the subject which has been so far suggested, can be termed suitable, unless indeed it be a saying of Schleiermacher’s. For if this philosopher (cf. p. 16) has really asserted that the subject in such cases ischaos, this utterance must be regarded, not so much as an attempt at explanation as rather a satire upon the hypotheses hitherto set up by philologists.
Many inquirers are therefore of opinion that the real subjects of such propositions as: it rains, it lightens, have, up to the present time, not been discovered, and that even at the present time it is the business of science to find them. But, would it not be strange if the tracing of a subject, which is thought of by everyone, and which, though unexpressed, forms the basis of the judgment, should yet offer such extraordinary difficulties?
Steinthal seeks to explain this by saying that by the grammatical subject something is suggested, which is yet unthinkable. But many will reply with Miklosich (p. 23): “We would not, I think, be going too far in asserting that grammar is not concerned with the unthinkable.”
The totality of the phenomena and the absolutely grotesque failure of every attempt to determine the nature of the subject, however often and however ingeniously this has been attempted, are the chief grounds on which Miklosich bases his assertion that, generally speaking, the supposed subject in the case of such propositions is a delusion, that the proposition is no combination of subject and predicate, that, as Miklosich expresses it, the proposition is subjectless.
Further reflections go to confirm this view, and among these one consideration as to the nature of the judgment requires to be emphasized on account of its special importance. Miklosich combats those who, like Steinthal, deny that there is any reciprocal relation between grammar and logic, at the same time repelling the attacks which, on the ground of such a reciprocal relation, might be made against his doctrine by psychologists and logicians. Indeed he arrives at the result that, in consequence of the special peculiarity of certain judgments, subjectless propositions must from the very first be expected in language. According to his view it is wrong to suppose that every judgment is a relation existing between ideas. It often happens that in a proposition only one fact is affirmed or denied. In such cases a mode of expression is also necessary, and it is obvious that this cannot well consist in a combination of subject and predicate. Miklosich shows how philosophers have been repeatedly led to this knowledge, though, as a rule, they have not appreciated sufficiently the significance of their discovery. Not sufficiently clear themselves as to the new truth to which they gave expression, and, at the same time, clinging with strange indecision to certain residues of the older view, it came about that what at first they affirmed they at last essentially deny. Thus Trendelenburg chose to find expressed in the proposition, “it lightens,” in the last resort, no real judgment, but only the rudiments of a judgment which precedes the notion of lightning and settles down into it, thereby forming the basis for the complete judgment, “lightning is conducted by iron.” Herbart finally declared such judgments as “es rauscht,” to be no judgments in the ordinary sense, not, he thought, what in logic is, strictly speaking, termed a judgment. The passage in which our author censures the inconsistencyof these philosophers, and shows that the source of their confusion lies in their misunderstanding of the nature of judgment and in their erroneous definition of it (p. 21 seq.), is excellent.
From all this Miklosich draws the conclusion that his subjectless propositions are completely assured. And not only does he consider their existence beyond doubt, he further shows that their appearance is by no means so rare as might be supposed from the controversy into which it has been necessary to enter concerning them. Their great variety had led him, in the second part of his treatise (pp. 33-72) to set forth their chief classes, and there we find subjectless propositions with the Active Verb, the Reflexive Verb, the Passive Verb and the verb “to be,” each of these four classes being illustrated by means of numerous examples from the most various languages. This is especially the case with the first class, where he makes an eightfold division with the object of grouping the propositions according to the difference in their content. He mentions as universally true (p. 6) that the finite verb of the subjectless propositions always stands in the third person singular, and, where the form admits a difference of gender, in the neuter.
In other directions also he traces the matter further. He shows how these propositions did not arise later than those which predicate something of a subject, but appear from the very outset among the various forms of propositions (p. 13 seq., p. 19), and how, in the course of time, they have disappeared from several languages (p. 26). He proves that the languages in which they are preserved enjoy an advantage, inasmuch as their application lends to the language a special liveliness (26), and he shows how in other respects also it is not always possible to substitute for the subjectless proposition the categorical form, with which it is supposed to be identical. “Ich friere” is, for instance, not fully identical with “mich friert.” Instead of, was frierst du draussen? Komme doch herein! we cannot say: was friert dich’s draussen? etc. “Mich friert” cannot be applied if I expose myself voluntarily to the cold (p. 37).
This, shortly, is the substance of his book, regarding which I venture to make a few critical observations.
I have sufficiently expressed in this summary, my approval of the treatise in general, especially in respect of the main argument. The proofs appear to me to be of so cogent a nature, that even the unwilling will scarcely be able to escape from the truth. Quite independent of these arguments, however, I had myself, long ago, arrived at the same view, by way of a purely psychological analysis, and gave, in the most decisive manner, public expression to it, when in 1874 I published myPsychology.
Great, however, as were the pains I then took to set the teaching in a clear light and to show every former view untenable, my success so far has been slight. Apart from isolated individuals, I have been just as little able to convince the philosopher, as Miklosich, in his first edition, was able to convince philologists. Where a prejudice has, during centuries, become ever more and more firmly rooted, where a doctrine has penetrated even to the primary school, when a theory has come to be regarded as fundamental upon which much else rests, and so, as it were, by its weight rendered the foundation immovable, in such a case, it is not to be expected that the error will immediately disappear as soon as its refutation is established; on the contrary, it is to be feared that distrust of the new view will be so great, as not even to admit of a closer examination being made regarding the grounds on which it rests. And yet when two investigators completely independent of each other agree in their testimony, when by quite different paths they arrive at the same goal, it may be hoped that this concurrence will not be regarded as a mere coincidence, but that a more careful attention will be bestowed upon the arguments on either side. I hope that this will be so in the case of the new edition of Miklosich, in which I am glad to see regard paid to my own work.
The agreement with regard to the main points makes subordinate points, in respect of which we differ, of less moment. I shall, notwithstanding, briefly touch on these.
Miklosich has termed those simple propositions, in which there is contained no combination of subject and predicate, and in the recognition of which I am in agreement with him, “subjectless propositions.” I am not able entirely to approve hisuseof the term and thegroundswhich he has given for its use.
Subject and predicate are correlative conceptions and stand or fall together. A proposition which is truly without a subject must with equal right be regarded as without a predicate. It does not therefore seem to me quite fitting that Miklosich should always term such propositions subjectless, and it is quite incorrect when he calls them mere predicative propositions. (Cf. pp. 3, 25, 26, and elsewhere.) This might suggest the view that he likewise believes a second conception (the subject) is understood though not expressed, had he not in the most decided manner denied this (p. 3 seq. and elsewhere); or that he regarded such propositions as stunted forms of categorical propositions, and the latter form as the original, had he not expressly refuted this also (p. 13 seq.). His view rather seems to be, that the natural development from the simple to the categorical form in thinking and speaking is generally accomplished in such a way that the notion which stands alone in the former proposition is combined with a second as subject. “The subjectless propositions,” he says, p. 25, “are propositions which consist only of a predicate, of what, in the natural process of thought-formation must, in a great number of propositions, be regarded as the prius, for which a subject may, but not necessarilymustbe sought.”
But this also can hardly be right, and the expression “subject” scarcely seems to favour this view. That which forms the basis is, of course, certainly that which in the construction of the judgment stands first. The temporal succession of the words also agrees ill with such a view, since, in the categorical proposition, we usually begin with the subject. In opposition to such a view it may also be contended that the emphasisusually falls upon the predicate (and Trendelenburg has made use of this to indicate that the predicate is the main conception, and even with exaggeration goes on to say: “We think in predicates,” cf. p. 19). If the predicative conception is what is newly added, it will, accordingly, be the object of greater interest. On the other hand, we would be compelled to expect exactly the opposite if the notion of the subject contained the newly added moment.
It may just as truly be said, “a bird is black,” as, “something black is a bird”; “Socrates is a man,” as, “a man is Socrates”; but Aristotle has already observed that only the former predication is natural, the latter form is opposed to the natural order. And this is really so far true, that we naturally makethatterm the subject to which we first pay regard in forming a judgment, or to which the hearer must first attend in order to understand the proposition, or to gain knowledge as to its truth or falsity. We can be assured of the existence of a black bird by seeking it among birds or among black objects, more easily, however, among the former. In the same way we may be more easily assured that an individual belongs to a particular species or genus by analysing its nature than by running over the entire range of the corresponding general notion. The cases of exceptions clearly confirm the rule and the grounds on which it rests, as, for instance, when I say: “There is something black; this something black is a bird,” in which case it is just because I have first recognized the colour that I accordingly make it the subject in the categorical proposition so formed.
Of the two categorical Sorites, the Aristotelian and the Goclenian, the former in every succeeding link makes that term the subject which is common to it and to the one preceding, the latter form makes it the predicate. It is just on this account that the former appears the more natural, and as such is generally regarded as the regular, the latter as the reversed form. In like manner where, to a proposition not consisting of a combination of ideas, we add a categorical proposition having one term in common with the former, we usually apply this not as a predicate but as a subject, and we should therefore prefer to say that a predicate has been sought for a subject rather thanthat a subject has been sought for a predicate. For example: es rauscht; das Rauschen kommt von einem Bache (there is a sound of running water; the sound comes from the brook). Es donnert; der Donner verkündet ein nahendes Gewitter (it thunders; the thunder heralds an approaching storm). Es riecht nach Rosen; dieser Rosengeruch kommt aus dem Nachbargarten (there is a smell of roses; the rose-scent comes from a neighbour’s garden). Es wird gelacht; das Gelächter gilt dem Hanswurste (there is laughter; the laughter is due to the clown). Es fehlt an Geld; dieser Geldmangel ist die Ursache der Stockung der Geschäfte (there is a lack of money; this dearth of money is the cause of the depression in trade). Es giebt einen Gott; dieser Gott ist der Schöpfer des Himmels und der Erde (there is a God; this God is the maker of heaven and earth), etc., etc.
Only inonesense, therefore, does the term “subjectless proposition” appear to me justifiable, and even perhaps deserving of recommendation, in so far as regard is paid to the fact, that the notion which is contained thereby is the only, and therefore, of course, the main conception; a preference which in the categorical proposition belongs, as we have seen, to the predicate. Similarly also in respect of categorical in relation to hypothetical propositions we would much rather say that they are propositions without an antecedent, than propositions without a consequent proposition; not as though we meant that where there is no antecedent there may still be a consequent proposition, but that in the hypothetical construction the consequent is the main proposition. In this way then I might perhaps agree with the author respecting the term “subjectless proposition.”
Another point, however, in which I am unable fully to agree with him is the question as to what extent subjectless propositions are applicable. Miklosich rightly emphasizes the fact that the limits are on no account to be drawn too tightly. But he thinks such limits at any rate exist, and this is just what is shown most clearly in his attempt to classify and divide the varied nature of the matter capable of being expressed by subjectless sentences. But this appears to me incorrect. The applicabilityof the subjectless form may, strictly speaking, be rather regarded as unlimited, since—as I believe I have already shown in myPsychology—every judgment, whether expressed in categorical, hypothetical or disjunctive form admits, without the slightest alteration in the sense, of being expressed in the form of a subjectless proposition or, as I expressed it, of an existential proposition. Thus the proposition, “A man is ill,” is synonymous with “There is a sick man”; and the proposition, “All men are mortal,” with the proposition, “There is no immortal man,” and the like.[A]