B 
 1423 
 
 L6a 
 1870
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT 
 
 From the Library of 
 
 Henry Goldman, Ph.D. 
 
 1886-1972
 
 CHAPTERS IN LOGIC ; 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON'S LECTURES ON 
 MODIFIED LOGIC, 
 
 AXD 8ELF.CTIONS FROM 
 
 THE PORT ROYAL LOGIC. 
 
 WITH PREFACE 
 
 BY TUB 
 
 REV. S. S. NELLES, D.D., 
 
 Prq]kt$or of Ijogir in Vletnrto College. 
 
 TORONTO : 
 THE WESLEYAN METHODIST BOOK-ROOM, 
 
 88, KINO 8TRKKT EAST. 
 1870.
 
 B 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THIS little volume is a reprint of Sir WILLIAM HAMILTON'S 
 Lectures on Modified Logic, and of the most valuable 
 portions of the famous Port Royal Logic, translated by 
 T. S. BAYNES. The design of the publication is to provide, 
 in cheap and convenient form, a Manual or Text-Book, 
 on what Hamilton calls " Modified or Concrete Logic," 
 but what others have variously designated as Applied or 
 Practical Logic. 
 
 Whatever may be thought of the propriety of including 
 this department of study within the science of Logic, 
 there can be no doubt of its very great importance, and 
 jvyt as little doubt of its having been sadly neglected. 
 Those who have not mastered the elements of formal or 
 technical Logic, as well as those who have, may derive 
 immense advantage from a careful perusal of these pages. 
 
 The merits of Sir William Hamilton are so well known, 
 that it is perhaps unnecessary here to say anything in 
 commendation of that pa.rt of the volume which was 
 written by him. It may, however, be well to mention,
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 that his Lectures on Modified Logic are here given in 
 full, without alteration either of the arrangement or the 
 text. From the nature of their topics, they form a distinct 
 discussion in themselves, and suffer nothing in being 
 separated from the other lectures in which the eminent 
 author has so ably treated of the formal laws of thought. 
 
 The other work, the Port Royal Logic, is less gener- 
 ally known, but is regarded by high authorities as one of 
 the very best of the many books extant on the science of 
 Logic. " The treatise," says Mr. Baynes, " is characterised 
 throughout by a vigor of thought, a vivacity of criticism, 
 a freshness and variety of illustration, an honesty and love 
 of truth, and withal a human sympathy, which rendered it 
 a work not only of specific scientific value, but of general 
 interest and instruction. Logic was thus redeemed from 
 the contempt into which it had fallen, and placed on a 
 level with the advancing philosophy of the time." 
 
 To this may be added the testimony of Baron de Gerando, 
 as cited by Mr. Baynes. Speaking of the parts which 
 especially merit praise, he says, " Above all, that beautiful 
 Dissertation on the Origin of Prejudices, and their in- 
 fluence on the vices of reasoning in civil life. This Disser- 
 tation, indeed, constitutes, of itself, an entirely new Logic 
 one almost sufficient, and far more important than all 
 the apparatus of the peripatetic Logic ; and it must be 
 recorded to the praise of the Port Royal writers that this 
 is a part of their woi'k which is peculiarly their OAvn."
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 Dugald Stewart, also, in his Dissertation on the Progress 
 of Philosophy, speaks of the Port Royal Logic as "a 
 treatise of which it is hardly possible to estimate the 
 merits too highly." And again : " No publication cer- 
 tainly, prior to Locke 8 Essay, can be named, containing so 
 much good sense and so little nonsense on the science of 
 Logic ; and very few have since appeared on the same 
 subject which can be justly preferred to it in ]X)int of 
 practical utility. If the author had lived in the present 
 age, or had been less fettered by a prudent regard to exist- 
 ing prejudices, the technical part would probably have 
 been reduced within a still narrower compass ; but even 
 there he has contrived to substitute, for the puerile and 
 contemptible examples of common logicians, several in- 
 teresting illustrations from the physical discoveries of his 
 immediate predecessors ; and has indulged himself, in some 
 short excursions, which excite a lively regret that he has 
 not more frequently and freely given scope to his original 
 reflections. Among these excursions, the most valuable, 
 in my opinion, is the Twentieth Chapter of the Third Part, 
 which deserves the attention of every logical student, as 
 an important and instructive supplement to the enumera- 
 tion of sophisms given by Aristotle." 
 
 The Editor of this compilation has confined his selections 
 from the Port Royal Logic to this " twentieth chapter," 
 which is given entire (with the exception of a few lines), 
 and to those jjortionn of the Preliminary Discourse which
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 are of general application. These selections make a suitable 
 introduction to the Lectures of Hamilton on Modified 
 Logic, and the two together furnish about the best instruc- 
 tion that can be had on this important branch of the 
 science of Logic. 
 
 We live in times remarkable for the awakening and 
 emancipation of thought. This is matter of rejoicing ; 
 but freedom of thought brings corresponding dangers and 
 responsibilities, and we cannot do too nmch to aid the 
 inquiring multitudes in the proper use of that right of 
 private judgment of which we are so justly proud. Works 
 like the one here presented may serve to show that all 
 intellectual activity has its laws, the violation of which 
 brings invariable and heavy penalties ; may teach us to 
 beware of the immoralities of the intellect ; may put those 
 who are -trying to think, in the way of thinking soundly, 
 by furnishing them with the best rules and cautions known 
 to the world's great thinkers ; and may help us forward to 
 that "good time coming," when in moral, political, and 
 religious affaire, men shall pi-oceed with something like the 
 steadiness, precision, and cei'tainty, which have already 
 begun to mark the pursuit of mathematical and physical 
 science. 
 
 VICTORIA COLLEGE, 
 
 March Slst, 1870.
 
 THE PORT-ROYAL LOGIC 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 rRZLIMINAHY IN WHICH THE nZSION OF THIS NBW LOGIC IS SIT 
 FORTH. 
 
 THERE is nothing more desirable than good sense, and ac- 
 curacy of thought, in discriminating between truth and 
 falsehood. All other qualities of mind are of limited use ; 
 but exactness of judgment is of general utility in every 
 part, and in all the employments of life. It is not alone in 
 the sciences that it is difficult to distinguish truth from error, 
 .but also in the greater part of those subjects which men 
 discuss in their every-day affairs. There are, in relation to 
 almost everything, different routes the one true, the other 
 false and it is reason which must choose between them. 
 Those who choose well, are they who have minds well- 
 regulatod ; those who choose ill, are those who have minds 
 ill-regulated : and this is the first and most important differ, 
 cnce which we find between the qualities of men's minds. 
 
 Thus the main object of our attention should be, to form 
 our judgment, and render it as exact as possible ; and to 
 this end, the greater part of our study ought to tend. We 
 2
 
 2 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 employ reason as an instrument for acquiring the sciences ; . 
 whereas, on the contrary, we ought to avail ourselves of the 
 sciences as an instrument for perfecting our reason justness 
 of mind being infinitely more important than all the specu- 
 lative knowledges which we can obtain, by means of sciences 
 the most solid and well-established. This ought to lead wise 
 men to engage in these only so far as 7 they may contribute to 
 that end,, and to make them the exercise only, and not the 
 occupation, of their mental powers. 
 
 If we have not this end in view, the study of the specu- 
 lative science such as geometry, astronomy, and physics 
 will be little else than a vain amusement, and scarcely better 
 than the ignorance of these things, which has at least this 
 advantage- that it is less laborious, and affords no room for 
 that empty vanity which is often found connected with these 
 barren and unprofitable knowledges. These sciences not 
 only have nooks and hidden places of very little use ; they 
 are even totally useless, considered in themselves, and for 
 themselves alone. Men are not born to employ their time 
 in measuring lines, in examining the relations of .angles, and 
 considering the different movements of matter ; their minds- 
 are too great, their life too short, their time too precious, to 
 be engrossed with such petty objects : but they ought to be' 
 just, equitable, prudent, in all their converse, in all their 
 actions, and in all the business they transact ; and to these 
 things they ought specially to discipline and train themselves. 
 This care and study are so very neccessary, that it is strange 
 that this exactness of judgment should be so rare a quality, 
 We find, on every side, ill-regulated minds which have 
 scarcely any discernment of the truth ; men who receive all 
 things with a wrong bias ; who allow themselves to be 
 carried away by the slightest appearances ; who are always
 
 PRELIMINARY. 3 
 
 in excess and extremes ; who have no bond to hold them 
 firm to the truths which they know, since they are attached 
 to them rather by chance than by any clear insight ; or 
 who, on the other hand, entrench themselves in their opin* 
 ions with such obstinacy, that they will not listen to any- 
 thing that may undeceive them ; who determine rashly about 
 that of which they are ignorant, which they do not under- 
 stand, and which, perhaps, no one ever can understand ; 
 who make no difference between one speech and another, or 
 judge of the truth of things by the tone of voice alone, he 
 who speaks fluently and impressively being in the right, 
 he who has some difficulty in explaining himself, or dis- 
 plays some warmth, in the wrong : they know nothing 
 beyond- this. 
 
 Hence it is, that there are no absurdities too groundless 
 to find supporters. Whoever determines to deceive the 
 world, may be sure of finding people who are willing enough 
 to be deceived ; and the most absurd follies always find 
 minds to which they are adapted. After seeing what a 
 number are infatuated with the follies of judicial astrology, 
 and that even grave persons treat this subject seriously, we 
 need not be surprised at anything more. There is a con- 
 stellation in the heavens which it has pleased certain persons 
 to call the Balance, and which is as much like a balance as 
 a windmill. The Balance is the symbol of justice ; those, 
 therefore, that are born under that constellation, will be 
 just and equitable. There are three other signs in the 
 zodiac, which are called, one the Ham, another the Bull, 
 another the Goat, and which might as well have been called 
 the Elephant, the Crocodile, and tbe Rhinoceros. The 
 Ram, the Bull, and the Goat, are ruminant animals ; those, 
 therefore, who tuku medicines when the moon is under
 
 4 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 these constellations, are in danger of vomiting them again. 
 Such extravagant reasonings as these have found persona 
 to propagate them, and others who allow themselves to 
 be persuaded by them. 
 
 This inaccuracy of thought is the cause, not only of the 
 errors we meet with in the sciences, but also the majority 
 of the offences which are committed in civil life, of unjust 
 quarrels, unfounded lawsuits, rash counsel, and ill-arranged 
 undertakings. There are few of these which have not their 
 origin in some error, and in some fault of judgment, so that 
 there is no defect which it more concerns us to correct. 
 But this correction is as difficult of accomplishment as it is 
 desirable, since it depends very much on the measure of in. 
 telligence with which we are endowed. Common-sense is 
 nob so common a quality as we imagine. There are a 
 multitude of minds heavy and dull, which we cannot reform 
 by giving them the understanding of the truth, but only by 
 restricting them to those things which are suited to them, by 
 withholding them from judging about those things which 
 they are not capable of knowing. It is true, nevertheless, 
 that a great part of the false judgment of men does not 
 spring from this principle, but is caused solely by preci- 
 pitancy of mind and want of attention, which lead us to 
 judge rashly about that which we know only obscurely 
 and confusedly. The little love men have for truth leads 
 them to take no pains, for the most part, in distinguishing 
 what is true from what is false. They allow all sorts of 
 reasonings and maxims to enter their minds ; they like 
 better to suppose things true, than to examine them ; if 
 they do not comprehend them, they are willing to believe 
 that others understand them well : and thus they fill the 
 memory with a mass of things false, obscure, and unintelli-
 
 PRELIMINARY. O 
 
 gible, and then reason on these principles, scarcely consider- 
 ing at all either what they speak or what they think. 
 Vanity and presumption contribute still more to this effect. 
 We think it a disgrace to doubt, and to be ignorant ; and 
 we prefer rather to speak and determine at random, than to 
 confess that we are not sufficiently informed on the subject 
 to give an opinion. We are all of us full of ignorance and 
 errors ; and yet it is the most difficult thing in the world to 
 obtain from the lips of man this confession, so just, and so 
 suited to his natural state, I am in error, and I know 
 nothing about the matter. 
 
 We find others, on the contrary, who, having light enough 
 to know that there are a number of things obscure and un- 
 certain, and wishing, from another kind of vanity, to show 
 that they are not led away by the popular credulity, take a 
 pride in maintaining that there is nothing certain. They 
 thus free themselves from the labour of examination, and 
 on this evil principle they bring into doubt the most firmly 
 established truths, urd even religion itself. This is the 
 source of Pyrrhonism [or Scepticism], another extravagance 
 of the human mind which, though apparently opposed to 
 the rashness of those who believe and decide everything, 
 springs nevertheless from the same source, which is, want 
 of attention. For as the one will not give themselves the 
 trouble of discerning errors, the others will not look upon 
 truth with that care which is necessary to perceive its evi- 
 dence. The faintest glimmer suffices to persuade the one of 
 things very false, and to make the other doubt of things the 
 most certain ; and in both cases it is the same want of 
 application which produces effects so different. 
 
 True reason places all things in the rank which belongs 
 to them ; it questions those which arc doubtful, rejects thoso
 
 6 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 which are false, and acknowledges, in good faith, those which 
 /are evident, without being embarrassed by the vain reasons 
 of the Pyrrhonists, which never could, even in the minds of 
 those who proposed them, destroy the reasonable assurance 
 we have of many things. None ever seriously doubted the 
 existence of the sun, the earth, the moon, or that the whole 
 was greater than its parts. We may indeed easily say out- 
 wardly with the lips that we doubt of all these things, 
 because it is possible for us to lie ; but we cannot say this 
 in our hearts. Thus Pyrrhonism is not a sect composed of 
 men who are persuaded of what they say, but a sect of liars. 
 Hence they often contradict themselves in uttering their 
 opinion, since it is impossible for their hearts to agree with 
 their language. We see this in Montaigne, who attempted 
 to revive this sect in the last century ; for, after having said 
 that the Academics were different from the Pyrrhonists, 
 inasmuch as the Academics maintained that some things 
 were more probable than others, which the Pyrrhonists 
 would not allow, he declares himself on the side of the 
 Pyrrhonists in the following terms : " The opinion," says he, 
 " of the Pyrrhonists is bolder, and much more probable." 
 There are, therefore, some things which are more probable 
 than others. Nor was it for the sake of effect that he spoke 
 thus : these are words which escaped him without thinking 
 of them, springing from the depths of nature which no 
 illusion of opinions can destroy. But the evil is, that in 
 relation to those things which are more removed from sense, 
 these persons, who take a pleasure in doubting everything, 
 withhold their mind from any application, or apply it only 
 imperfectly to that which might persuade them, and thus 
 fall into a voluntary uncertainty in relation to the affairs of 
 religion ; for the state of darkness into which they have
 
 PRELIMINARY. 7 
 
 brought themselves is agreeable to them, and very favourable 
 for allaying the remorse of their conscience, and for the un- 
 restrained indulgence of their passions. Thus, these dis- 
 orders of the mind, though apparently opposed (the one 
 leading to the inconsiderate belief of what is obscure and 
 uncertain, the other to the doubting of what is clear and 
 certain), have nevertheless a common origin, which is, the 
 neglect cf that attention which is necessary in order to 
 discover the truth. It is clear, therefore, that they must 
 also have a common remedy, and that the only way in 
 which we can preserve ourselves from them is by fixing 
 minute attention on our judgments and thoughts. This is 
 the only thing that is absolutely necessary to preserve us 
 from deceptions. For that which the Academics were wont 
 to say, that it was impossible to discover the truth unless 
 we had its characters, as it would be impossible to identify 
 a runaway slave we might be in search of, unless we had 
 some signs by which, supposing we were to meet him, we 
 could distinguish him from others, is only a vain subtlety. 
 As no marks are necessary in order to distinguish light from 
 darkness but the light which reveals itself, so nothing else 
 is necessary in order to recognize the truth but the very 
 brightness which environs it, and which subdues and per- 
 suades the mind, notwithstanding all that may be said 
 against it ; so that all the reasonings of these philosophers 
 are no more able to withhold the mind from yielding to the 
 truth, when it is strongly imbued with it, than they are 
 capable of preventing the eyes from seeing, when, being 
 open, they are assailed by the light of the sun. 
 
 But since the mind often allows itself to be deceived by 
 false apjxjarances in consequence of not giving duo attention 
 to them, and since there are many things which cannot be
 
 8 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 known, save by long and difficult examination, it would 
 certainly be useful to have some rules for its guidance, so 
 that the search after truth might be more easy and certain. 
 Nor is it impossible to secure such rules : for since men are 
 sometimes deceived in their judgments, and at other times 
 are not deceived, as they reason sometimes well and some- 
 times ill, and as, after they have reasoned ill, they are able 
 to perceive their error, they may thus notice, by reflecting 
 on their thoughts, what method they have followed when 
 they have reasoned well, and what was the cause of their 
 error when they were deceived ; and thus on these reflections 
 form rules by which they may avoid being deceived for the 
 future. 
 
 This is what philosophers have specially undertaken to 
 accomplish, and in relation to which they make such magni- 
 ficent promises. If we may believe them, they will furnish 
 us, in thai part which is devoted to that purpose, and which 
 they call logic, with a light capable of dispelling all the 
 darkness of the mind ; they correct all the errors of our 
 thoughts ; and they give us rules so sure that they conduct 
 us infallibly to the truth, so necessary, that without them 
 it is impossible to know anything with complete 1 certainty. 
 These are the praises which they have themselves bestowed 
 on their precepts. But if we consider what experience 
 shows us of the use which these philosophers make of them, 
 both in logic and in other parts of philosophy, we shall have 
 good grotlnds to suspect the truth of their promises. 
 
 Since it is not, however, just to reject absolutely the good 
 there is in logic because of the abuse which has been made 
 of it, and as it is not possible that all the great minds which 
 have applied themselves with so much care to the rules of 
 reasoning, have discovered nothing at all solid ; and finally,
 
 PRELIMINARY. 9 
 
 since custom has rendered it necessary to know (at least 
 generally) what logic is, we believed that it would contribute 
 something to public utility to select from the common logics 
 whatever might best help towards forming the judgment. 
 This is the end we specially propose to ourselves in this 
 work ; with the view of accomplishing which, we have 
 inserted many new reflections which 'have suggested them- 
 selves to our mind while writing it, and which form the 
 greatest and perhaps the most important part of it, for it 
 appears the common philosophers have attempted to do 
 little more than to give the rules of good and bad reasoning. 
 Now, although we cannot say these rules are useless, since 
 they often help to discover the vice of certain intricate 
 arguments, and to arrange our thoughts in a more convincing 
 manner, still this utility must not be supposed to extend 
 very far. The greater part of the errors of men arise, not 
 from their allowing themselves to be deceived by wrong 
 conclusions, but in their proceeding from false judgments, 
 whence wrong conclusions are deduced. Those who have 
 previously written on logic have little sought to rectify this, 
 which is the main design of the new reflections which are to 
 be found scattered through this book. 
 
 These, in brief, are the views we have had in writing this 
 Logic. Perhaps, after all there are few persons who will 
 profit by it, or be conscious of the good they have obtained, 
 because but little attention is commonly given to putting 
 precepts in practice by express reflections on them. But 
 we hope, nevertheless, that those who have read it with 
 some care may receive an impression which will render them 
 more exact and solid in their judgments, even without their 
 being conscious of the good, as there are some remedies 
 
 2*
 
 10 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 which cure diseases by increasing the vigour and fortifying 
 the parts. Be this as it may, it cannot trouble any one 
 long, since those who are a little advanced may read and 
 understand it in seven or eight days ; and it will be strange 
 if, containing so great a diversity of things, each does not 
 find something to repay him for the trouble of a perusal.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE BAD REASONINGS WHICH ARE COMMON IN CIVIL LOT 
 AND IN ORDINARY DISCOURSE. 
 
 WE have seen some examples of the faults which are most 
 common in reasoning on scientific subjects ; but since the 
 principal use of reason is not in relation to those kinds of 
 subjects which enter but little into the conduct of life, and 
 in which there is much less danger of being deceived, it 
 would, without doubt, be much more useful to consider 
 generally what betrays men into the false judgments which 
 they make on every kind of subject, especially on that 
 of morals, and of other things which are important in civil 
 life, and which constitute the ordinary subject of *their con- 
 versation. But, inasmuch as this design would require a 
 separate work, which would comprehend almost all the 
 whole of morals, we shall content ourselves with indicating 
 here, in general, some of the causes of those false judgments 
 which are BO common amongst men. 
 
 We do not stay to distinguish false judgments from bad 
 reasonings, and shall inquire indifferently into the causes of 
 each, both because false judgments are the sources of bad 
 reasonings, and produce them as a necessary consequence, 
 and because in reality there is almost always a concealed 
 and enveloped reasoning in what appears to be a simple 
 judgment, them being always something which operates on
 
 12 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 f 
 
 the motive and principle of that judgment. For example, 
 when we judge that a stick which appears bent in the water 
 is really so, this judgment is founded on that general and 
 false proposition, that what appears bent to our senses is so 
 really, and thus contains an undeveloped reasoning. 
 
 In considering them generally, the causes of our errors 
 appear to be reducible to two principles : the one internal 
 the irregularity of the will, which troubles and disorders 
 the judgment ; the other external, which lies in the objects 
 of which we judge, and which deceive our minds by false 
 appearances. Now although these causes almost always 
 appear united together, there are nevertheless certain errors, 
 in which one prevails more than the other ; and hence we 
 shall treat of them separately. 
 
 OF THE SOPHISMS OF SELF-I<OVE, OF INTEREST, AND OF PASSION. 
 I. 
 
 If we examine with care what commonly attaches men 
 rather to^one opinion than to another, we shall find that it 
 is not a conviction of the truth, and the force of the rea- 
 sons, but some bond of self-love, of interest, or of passion. 
 This is the weight which bears down the scale, and which 
 decides us in the greater part of our doubts. It is this 
 which gives the greatest impetus to our judgments, and 
 which holds us to them most forcibly. We judge of things, 
 not by what they are in themselves, but by what they are 
 in relation to us, and truth and utility are to us but one and 
 the same thing. 
 
 No other proofs are needed than those which we see every 
 day, to show that the things which are held everywhere 
 else as doubtfiul, or even as false, are considered most certain
 
 SELF LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 13 
 
 by all of some one nation, or profession, or institution. 
 For, since it cannot be that what is true in Spain should be 
 false in France, nor that the minds of all Spaniards are so 
 differently constituted from those of Frenchmen, as that, 
 judging by the same rules of reasoning, that which appears 
 generally true to the one should appear generally false to 
 the others, it is plain that this diversity of judgment can 
 arise from no other cause except that the one choose to hold 
 as true that which is to their advantage ; and that the others, 
 having no interest at stake, judge of it in a different way. 
 
 Nevertheless, what can be more unreasonable than to take 
 our interest as the motive for believing a thing 1 All that 
 it can do, at most, is to lead us to consider witli more atten- 
 tion the reasons which may enable us to discover the truth 
 of that which we wish to be true ; but it is only the truth 
 which mubt be found in the thing itself, independently of 
 onr desires, which ought to convince us. I am of such a 
 country ; therefore I must believe that such a saint preached 
 the gosj)el there. I am of such an order ; therefore I must 
 believe that such a privilege is right. These are no reasons. 
 Of whatever order, and of whatever country you may be, 
 you ought to believe only what is true ; and what you would 
 have been disposed to believe, though you had been of 
 another country, of another order, and of another profession. 
 
 II. 
 
 Bat this illusion is much more evident when any change 
 takes place in the passions ; for, though all things remain iu 
 their place, it appears, nevertheless, to those who are moved by 
 Home ncsw passion, that the change which has taken place 
 in their own heart alone lias changed all external things 
 which have any relation to them. How ot'lon do we sec
 
 14 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 persons who are able to recognize no good quality, either 
 natural or acquired, in those against whom they have con- 
 ceived an aversion, or who have been opposed in something 
 to their feelings, desires, and interests ! This is enough to 
 render them at once, in their estimation, rash, proud, 
 ignorant, without faith, without honour, and without con- 
 science. Their affections and desires are not any more just 
 or moderate than their hatred. If they love any one, he is 
 free from every kind of defect. Everything which they 
 desire is just and easy, everything which they do not desire 
 is unjust and impossible, without their being able to assign 
 any other reason for all these judgments than the passion 
 itself which possesses them ; so that, though they do not 
 expressly realize to their mind this reasoning : I love him ; 
 therefore, he is the cleverest man in the world : I hate him ; 
 therefore, he is nobody ; they realize it to a great extent in 
 their hearts ; and therefore, we may call sophisms and 
 delusions of the heart those kinds of errors which consist in 
 transferring our passion to the objects of our, passions, stnd 
 in judging that they are what we will or desire that they 
 should be ; which is without doubt very unreasonable, since 
 our desires can effect no change in the existence of that 
 which is without us, and since it is God alone whose will 
 is efficacious enough to render all things what he would have 
 them to be. 
 
 in. 
 
 We may reduce to the same illusion of self-love that of 
 those who decide everything by a very general and con- 
 venient principle, which is, that they are right, that they 
 know the truth ; from which it is not difficult to infer that 
 those who are not of their opinion are deceived, in fact, 
 the conclusion is necessary.
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 15 
 
 The error of these persons springs solely from this, that 
 the good opinion which they have of their own insight 
 leads them to consider all their thoughts as so clear and 
 evident, tiiat they imagine the whole world must accept 
 them as soon as they are known. Hence it is that they so 
 rarely trouble themselves to furnish proofs, they seldom 
 listen to the opinions of others, they wish all to yield to 
 their authority, since they never distinguish their authority 
 from reason. They treat with contempt all those who are 
 not of their opinion, without considering that if others are 
 not of their opinion, so neither are they of the opinion of 
 others, and that it is unjust to assume, without proof, that 
 we are in the right when we attempt to convince others, 
 who are not of our opinion, simply because they are per- 
 Buaded that we are not in the right. 
 
 rv. 
 
 There are some, again, who have no other ground for 
 rejecting certain opinions than this amusing reasoning : 
 If thi< were so, I should not be a clever man ; now, I am 
 a clever man ; therefore, it is not so. This is the main 
 reason which, for a long time, led to the rejection of some 
 most useful remedies, and most certain discoveries ; for 
 those who had not known them previously fancied that, by 
 admitting them, they would have confessed themselves 
 to have been hitherto deceived. " What," said they, " if 
 the blood circulate ; if the food is not carried to the liver 
 by the mesaraic veins ; if the venous artery carry the blood 
 to the heart ; if the blood rise by the descending hollow 
 vein ; if nature does not abhor a vacuum ; if the air be 
 heavy and have a movement below, I have been ignorant 
 of many important things in anatomy and in physics.
 
 16 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 these things, therefore, cannot be." But, to remedy this 
 folly, it is only necessary to represent fully to such, that 
 there is very little disci-edit in being mistaken, "and that 
 they may be accomplished in other things, though they be 
 not in those which have been recently discovered. 
 
 V. 
 
 There is, again, nothing more common than to see people 
 mutually casting on each other the same reproaches, and 
 accusing one another for example, of obstinacy, passion, 
 and chicanery when they are of different opinions. There 
 are scarcely any advocates who do not accuse each other 
 of delaying the process, and concealing the truth by artifices 
 of speech ; and thus those who are in the right, and those 
 who are in the wrong, with almost the same language make 
 the same complaints, and attribute to each other the same 
 vices. This is one of the most injurious things possible in 
 the life of men, for it throws truth and error, justice and 
 injustice, into an obscurity so profound, that the world, in 
 general, cannot distinguish between them ; and hence it hap- 
 pens, that many attach themselves, by chance and without 
 knowledge, to one of these parties, and that others condemn 
 both as being equally wrong. 
 
 All this confusion springs, again, from the same malady 
 which leads each one to take, as a principle, that he is in 
 the right ; for from this it is not difficult to infer, that all 
 who oppose us are obstinate, since to be obstinate is not to 
 submit to the right. 
 
 But still, although it be true that these reproaches of 
 passion, of blindness, and of quibbling, which are very un- 
 just on the part of those who are mistaken, are just and 
 right on the part of those who are not so; nevertheless,
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 17 
 
 since they assume that truth is on the side of him who 
 makes them, wise and thoughtful persons, who treat of any 
 contested matter, should avoid using them, before they! 
 have thoroughly established the truth and justice of thef'VL~t> 
 cause which they maintain. They will never then accuse 
 their adversaries of obstinacy, of rashness, of wanting com- 
 mon sense, before they have clearly proved this. They 
 will not say, before they have shown it, that they fall into 
 intolerable absurdities and extravagances ; for the others, 
 on their side, will say the same of them, and thus accom- 
 plish notliing. And thus they will prefer rather to observe 
 that most equitable rule of St. Augustine : Omittamus ista 
 communia, quce dici ex utraque parte possunt, licet vere diet 
 ex utraque parte non possint. They will thus be content 
 to defend truth by the weapons which are her own, and 
 which falsehood cannot borrow. These are clear and 
 weighty reasons. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The mind of man is not only in love with itself, but it 
 is also naturally jealous, envious of and ill-disposed towards 
 others. It can scarcely bear that they should have any ad- 
 vantage, but desires it all for itself ; and as it is an advan- 
 tage to know the truth, and furnish men with new views, 
 a secret desire arises to rob those who do this of the glory, 
 which often leads men to combat, without reason, the 
 opinions and inventions of others. 
 
 Thus, a* self-love often leads us to make these ridiculous 
 reasonings : It is an opinion which I discovered, it is that 
 of my order, it is an opinion which is convenient ; it is, 
 therefore, true ; natural ill-will loads us oftxm to make tlicso 
 others, which are equally nltsurd : Some onn -ls<> said mi<;U
 
 18 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 a, thing ; it is, therefore, false : I did not write that book ; 
 it is, therefore, a bad one. 
 
 This is the source of the spirit of contradiction so com- 
 mon amongst men, and which leads them, when they hear 
 or read anything of another, to pay but little attention to 
 the reasons which might have persuaded them, and to think 
 only of those which they think may be offered against it ; 
 they are always on their guard against truth, and think only 
 of the means by which it may be repressed and obscured 
 in which they are almost invariably successful, the fertility 
 of the human mind in false reasons being inexhaustible. 
 
 When this vice is in excess, it constitutes one of the lead- 
 ing characteristics of the spirit of pedantry, which finds its 
 greatest pleasure in quibbling with others on the pettiest 
 things, and in contradicting everything with a pure ma- 
 lignity. But it is often more imperceptible and concealed ; 
 and we may say, indeed, that no one is altogether free from it, 
 since it has its root in self-love, which always lives in men. 
 
 The knowledge of this malignant and envious disposition, 
 which dwells deep in the heart of men, shows us that one 
 of the most important rules which we can observe, in order 
 to win those to whom we speak from error, and bring them 
 over to the truth of which we would persuade them, is to 
 excite their envy and jealousy as little as possible by speak- 
 ing of ourselves, and the things which concern us. 
 
 For, since men love scarcely any but themselves, they 
 cannot bear that another should intrude himself upon them, 
 and thus throw into shade the main object of their regard. 
 All that does not refer to themselves is odious and imper- 
 tinent, and they commonly pass from the hatred of the man 
 to the hatred of his opinions and reasons. Hence, wise 
 persons avoid as much as possible revealing to others the
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 19 
 
 ' advantages which they have ; they avoid attracting atten- 
 tion to themselves in particular ; and seek rather, by hiding 
 themselves in the crowd, to escape observation, in order that 
 the truth which they propose may be seen alone in their 
 discourse. 
 
 The late M. Pascal, who knew as much of true rhetoric 
 as any one ever did, carried this rule so far as to maintain 
 that a well-bred man ought to avoid mentioning himself, and 
 even to avoid using the words / and me ; and he was accus- 
 tomed to say, on this subject, that Christian piety annihilated 
 the human me, and that human civility concealed and sup- 
 pressed it. This rule, however, is not to be observed too 
 rigidly, for there are many occasions on which it would use- 
 lessly embarrass us to avoid these words ; but it is always 
 good to keep it in view, in order to preserve us from the 
 wretched custom of some individuals, who speak only of 
 themselves, and who quote themselves continually, when 
 their opinion is not asked for. This leads those who hear 
 them to susj>ect that this constant recurrence to themselves 
 arises only from a secret pleasure, which leads them contin- 
 ually to that object of their love, and thus excites in them, 
 by a natural consequence, a secret aversion to these people, 
 and t<> wan Is all that they say. This shows us that one of 
 the characteristics most unworthy of a sensible man is that 
 which Montaigne has affected in entertaining his readers 
 with all his humours, his inclinations, his fancies, his mala- 
 dies, his virtues, and his vices, which could arise only from 
 a weakness of judgment, as well as a violent love for him- 
 self. It is true that he attempted, as far as possible, to re- 
 move from himself the suspicion of a low and vulgar vanity, 
 by Hj>eaking freely of his defects, as well as of his good 
 qualities, which has something amiable in it, from the appear-
 
 20 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 ance of sincerity ; but it is easy to see that all this is only a 
 trick and artifice ; which should only render it still more 
 odious. He speaks of his vices in order that they may be 
 known, not that they may be detested ; he does not think 
 for a moment that he ought to be held in less esteem ; he 
 regards them as things very indifferent, and rather as 
 creditable than disgraceful ; if he reveals them it gives him no 
 concern, and he believes that, he will not be, on that account, 
 at ail more vile or contemptible. But when he apprehends 
 that anything will degrade him at all, he is as careful as any 
 one to conceal it ; hence, a celebrated author of the present 
 day pleasantly remarks, that though he takes great pains, 
 without any occassion, to inform us, in two places of his 
 book, that he had a page, (an officer of very little use in the 
 house of a gentleman of six thousand livres a-year) he has 
 not taken the same pains to inform us that he had also a 
 clerk, having been himself counsellor of the parliament of 
 Bordeaux. This employment, though very honoiirable in 
 itself, did not satisfy the vanity he had of appearing always 
 with the air of a gentleman and of a cavalier, and as one 
 unconnected with the brief and gown. 
 
 It is nevertheless probable, however, that he would not 
 have concealed this circumstance of his life if he could 
 have found some Marshal of France who had been coun- 
 sellor of Bordeaux, as he has chosen to inform us that he had 
 been mayor of that town, but only, after having in- 
 formed us that he had succeeded Marshal De Biron in that 
 office, and had been succeeded by Marshal De Matignon. 
 
 But the greatest vice of this author is not that of vanity, 
 for he is filled with such a multitude of shameful scandals, 
 and of epicurean and impious maxims, that it is wonder- 
 ful that he has been endured so long by everybody, and
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 21 
 
 that there are even men of mind who have not discovered 
 the poison. 
 
 No other proofs are necessary, in order to judge of his 
 libertinism, than that very manner even in which he speaks 
 of his vices ; for allowing, in many places, that he had been 
 guilty of great number of criminal excesses, he declares, 
 nevertheless, that he did not repent of them at all, and that 
 if he had to live over again he would live as he had done. 
 " As for me," says he, " I cannot desire in general" to be 
 other than I am. I cannot condemn my universal form, 
 though I may be displeased with it, and pray God for my 
 entire reformation, and for the pardon of my natural weak- 
 ness ; but this I ought not to call repentance any more than 
 the dissatisfaction I may feel at not being an angel, or Uato ; 
 my actions are regulated and conformed to my ;-.Ut and 
 condition ; I cannot be better, and repentance does not' 
 properly refer to things which are not in our power. I 
 never expected incongruously to affix the tail of a philoso- 
 pher to the head and body of an abandoned man, or that 
 the meagre extremity of uiy life was to disavow and deny 
 the most beautiful, complete, and largest portion* of the 
 whole. If I had to live ow ncrair I would live as I have 
 done ; I do not lament over the past ; I do no fear for the 
 future." Awful words, which denote the entire extinction 
 of all religious feeling, but which are worthy of him who 
 said also, in another place : " I plunge myself headlong 
 blindly into death, as into a dark and silent abyss, full of a 
 mighty sleep, full of unconsciousness and lethargy, which 
 engulphs me at once, and overwhelms me in a moment." 
 And in another place : " Death, which is only a quarter 
 of an hour's passion, without consequence, and without 
 injury, doca not deserve any special prccepta."
 
 22 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 Although this digression appeals widely removed from 
 this subject, it belongs to it nevertheless, for this reason- 
 that there is no book which more fosters that bad custom 
 of speaking of one's self, being occupied with one's self, 
 and wishing all others to be so too. This wonderfully cor- 
 rupts reason, both in ourselves, through the varfity which 
 always accompanies these discourses, .and in others, by the 
 contempt and aversion which they conceive for us. Those 
 only may be allowed to speak of themselves who are men 
 of eminent virtue, and who bear witness by what means 
 they have become so, so that if they make known their good 
 actions, it is only to excite others to praise God for these, 
 or to instruct them ; and if they publish their faults, it 19 
 only to humble themselves before men, and to deter them 
 from committing these. But for ordinary persons it is a 
 ridiculous vanity to wish to inform others of their petty 
 advantages ; and it is insufferable effrontery to reveal their 
 excesses to the world without expressing their sorrow for 
 them, since the last degree of abandonment in vice is, not to 
 blush for it, and to have no concern or repentance on 
 account 'of it, but to speak of it indifferently as of anything 
 else ; in which mainly lies the wit of Montaigne. 
 
 VII. 
 
 We may distinguish to some extent from malignant and 
 envious contradiction another kind of disposition not so bad, 
 but which produces the same faults of reasoning ; this is 
 the spirit of debate, which is, however, a vice very in- 
 jurious to the mind. 
 
 It is not that discussions, generally, can be censured. We 
 may say on the contrary that, provided they be rightly 
 used, there is nothing which contributes more towards
 
 SELy-LOVE 'IXTEBEST PASSIONS. 25 
 
 giving us different hints, both for finding the truth, and for 
 recommending it to others. The movement of the mind, 
 when it works alone in the examination of any subject, is 
 commonly too cold and languid. It needs a certain warmth 
 to inspire it, and awaken its ideas, and it is commonly 
 through the varied opposition which we meet with that we 
 discover wherein the obscurity and the difficulties of con- 
 viction consist, and are thus led to endeavor to overcome 
 them. 
 
 It is true, however, that just in proportion as this exer- 
 cise is useful when we employ it aright, and without any 
 mixture of passion, so, in that proportion, is it dangerous 
 when we abuse it, and pride ourselves on maintaining our 
 opinion at whatever cost, and in contradicting that of others. 
 Nothing can separate us more widely from the truth, and 
 plunge us more readily into error, than this kind of dispo- 
 sition. We become accustomed, unconsciously, to find 
 reasons for everything, and to place ourselves above reason 
 by never yielding to it, which leads us by degrees to hold 
 nothing as certain, and to confound truth with error, in re- 
 garding both as equally probable. This is why it is so rare 
 a thing for a question to be determined by discussion ; and 
 why it scarcely ever happens that two philosophers agree. 
 They always find replies and rejoinders, since their aim is to 
 avoid not error but silence, and since they think it less dis- 
 graceful to remain always in error than to avow that they 
 are mistaken. 
 
 Thus, unless at least we have been accustomed by long 
 discipline to retain the perfect mastery over ourselves, it is 
 very difficult not to los sight of truth in debates, since 
 there are scarcely any exercises which so much arouse our 
 passions. What vices have tbey not excited, say* a celo-
 
 24 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 brated author [Montaigne], being almost always governed 
 by anger ! We pass first to a hatred of the reasons, and then 
 of the persons. We learn to dispute only to contradict ; and 
 each contradicting and being contradicted, it comes to pass 
 that the result of the debate is the annihilation of truth. 
 One goes to the east and another to the west one loses the 
 principle in dispute, and another wanders amidst a crowd 
 of details and after an hour's storm, they know not what 
 they were discussing. One is above, another below, and 
 another at the side one seizes on a word or similitude 
 another neither listens to, nor at all understands what his 
 opponent says, and is so engaged with his own course that 
 he only thinks of following himselfj not you. 
 
 There are some, again, who, conscious of their weakness, 
 fear everything, refuse everything, confuse the discussion at 
 the onset, or in the midst of it, become obstinate, and are 
 silent, affecting a proud contempt, or a stupid modesty of 
 avoiding contention. One, provided only that he is stri- 
 king, cares not how he exposes himself another counts his 
 words and weighs his reasons a third relies on his voice 
 and lungs alone. We see some who conclude against them- 
 selves, and others who weary and bewilder everyone with 
 prefaces and useless digressions. Finally, there are some 
 who arm themselves with abuse, and make a German quarrel 
 in order to finish the dispute with one who has worsted 
 them in argument. These are the common vices of our 
 debates, which are ingeniously enough represented by this 
 writer,* who, without ever having known the true grandeur 
 of man, has sufficiently canvassed his defects. 
 
 * The greater part of this page is taken directly from Montaigne, 
 Essay* iii. 8. His sentiments are here referred to with approbation; 
 and it would have been but fair, since when quoted for condemna-
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 2S 
 
 We may hence judge how liable these kinds of confer- 
 ences are to disorder the mind, at least unless we take great 
 care not only not to fall ourselves first into these errors, but 
 also not to follow those who do, and so to govern ourselves 
 that we may see them wander without wandering ourselves, 
 and without losing the end we ought to seek, which is the 
 elucidation of the truth under discussion. 
 
 VIIL 
 
 We find some persons, again, principally amongst those 
 who attend at court, who, knowing very well how incon- 
 venient and disagreeable these controversial dispositions 
 are, adopt an immediately opposite course, which is that of 
 contradicting nothing, but of praising and approving every- 
 thing indifferently. This is what is called complaisance, 
 which is a disposition convenient enough indeed for our 
 fortune, but very injurious to our judgment, for as the con- 
 troversial hold as true the contrary of what is said to them, 
 the complaisant appear to tak as true everything which is 
 said to them, and this habit corrupts, in the first place, their 
 discourse, aad then their minds. 
 
 Hence it is that praises are become so common, and are 
 given so indifferently to everyone, that we know not what 
 to conclude from them. There is not a single preacher in 
 the " Gazette," who is not most eloquent, and who does not 
 ravish his hearers by the profundity of his knowledge. Al 
 who die are illustrious for piety ; and the pettiest authors 
 
 lion he is always mentioned by name, that he should here also havo 
 been expressly referred to. The gay and easy scepticism of Mon- 
 taigne, however, so offended the moral earnestness of the Port* 
 Royal writers, that they can scarcely allow him Any merit ; and 
 rarely, when referring to him, Jo him justice. 
 3
 
 26 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 might make books of praises which they receive from their 
 friends. So that, amidst this profusion of praises, which 
 are made with such little discernment, it is master of won- 
 der that there are found some BO eager for them, and who 
 treasure them so carefully when given. 
 
 It is quite impossible that this confusion in the language 
 should not produce some confusion in the mind, for those 
 who adopt the habit of praising everything, become accus- 
 tomed also to approve of everything. But though the false- 
 hood were only in the words, and not in the mind, this 
 would be sufficient to lead those who sincerely love the 
 truth to avoid it. It is not necessary to reprove everything 
 which may be bad, but it is necessary to praise only what 
 is truly praiseworthy, otherwise we lead those whom we 
 praise in this way into error. We help to deceive those 
 who judge of their persons by these praises ; and we com- 
 mit a wrong against those who truly deserve praises, by 
 giving them equally to those who do not deserve them. 
 Finally, we destroy all the trustworthiness of language, and 
 confuse all ideas and words, by causing them to be no longer 
 signs of our judgments and thoughts, but simply an out- 
 ward civility which we give to those whom we praise as we 
 might do a bow, for this is all that we can infer from ordi- 
 nary praises and compliments. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Amongst the various ways by which self-love plunges 
 men into error, or rather strengthens them in it, and pre- 
 vents their escape from it, we must not forget one which 
 is without doubt among the principal and most common. 
 This is the engaging to maintain any opinion, to which we 
 may attach ourselves from other considerations than those
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 27 
 
 of its truth. For this determination to defend our opinion 
 leads us no longer to consider whether the reasons we em- 
 ploy are true or false, but whether they will avail to defend 
 that which we maintain. "We employ all sorts of reasons, 
 good or bad, in order that there may be some to suit every 
 one ; and we sometimes proceed even to say things which 
 we well know to be absolutely false, if they will contribute 
 to the end which we seek. The following are some ex- 
 amples : 
 
 An intelligent man would hardly ever suspect Montaigne 
 of having believed all the dreams of judicial astrology. 
 Nevertheless, when he needs them for the purpose of fool- 
 ishly degrading mankind, he employs them as good reasons, 
 " When we consider," says he, " the dominion and power 
 which these bodies have, not only on our lives, and on the 
 state of our fortune, but also on our inclinations, which 
 are governed, driven, and disturbed, according to their 
 influences, how can we deprive them of a soul, of life, and 
 of discourse?" 
 
 Would he destroy the advantages which men have over 
 beasts through the intercourse of speech, he relates to us 
 absurd stories, whose extravagance no one knew better 
 than himself, and derives from them these still more absurd 
 conclusions : " There have been," says he, " some who 
 boasted that they understood the language of brutes, as 
 Appollonious Thyaneous, Melampus, Tiresias, Thales, and 
 others ; and since what the cocmographers say is true, that 
 there are some nations which receive a dog as their king, 
 they must give a certain interpretation to his voice and 
 movements." [Essays, ii. 12.] 
 
 We might conclude, for the same reason, that when 
 Caligula made his horse consul, the orders which ho gavo
 
 28 * SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 in the discharge of that office must have been clearly un- 
 derstood. But we should do wrong in accusing Montaigne 
 of this bad consequence ; his design was not to speak rea- 
 sonably, but to gather together a confused mass of every* 
 thing which might be said against men, which is, however, 
 a vice utterly opposed to the justness of mind and sincerity 
 of a good man. 
 
 Who, again, would tolerate this other reasoning of the 
 same author on the subject of the auguries which the pagans 
 made from the flight of birds, and which the wisest amongst 
 them derided ? " Amongst all the predictions of time 
 past," says he, " the most ancient, and the most certain, 
 were those which were derived from the flight of birds. 
 We have nothing of the like kind nothing so admirable ; 
 that rule, that order of the moving of the wing, through 
 which the consequences of things to come were obtained, 
 must certainly have been directed by some excellent means 
 to so noble an operation ; for it is insufficient to attribute 
 so great an effect to some natural ordinance, without the 
 intelligence, agreement, or discourse of the agent which 
 produces it ; and such an opinion is evidently false." 
 [Essays, ii. 12.] 
 
 Is it not a delightful thing to see a man who holds that 
 nothing is either evidently true or evidently false, in a 
 treatise expressly designed to establish Pyrrhonism, and to 
 destroy evidence and certainty, deliver to us seriously these 
 dreams as certain truths, and speak of the contrary opinion 
 as evidently false 1 But he is amusing himself at our ex- 
 pense when he speaks in this wav, and he is without excuse 
 in thus sporting with his readers, by telling them things 
 which he does not, and could not without absurdity, believe.
 
 SELF-LOVE INTEREST PASSIONS. 29 
 
 He was,, without doubt, as good a philosopher as Virgil, 
 who does not ascribe to any intelligence in the birds even 
 those periodical changes which we observe in their move- 
 ment accordftg to the difference of the air, from which we 
 may derive some conjecture as to rain and fine weather. 
 
 But these mistakes being voluntary, all that is necessary 
 to avoid them is & little good faith. The most common, 
 and the most dangerous, are those of which we are not 
 conscious, because the engagement into which we have 
 entered to defend an opinion disturbs the view of the mind, 
 and leads it to take as true that which contributes to its 
 end. The only remedy which can be applied to these is 
 to have no end but truth, and to examine reasonings with 
 o much care, that even prejudice shall not be able to mia 
 lead us.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE FALSE REASONINGS WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS 
 THEMSELVES. 
 
 WE have already noticed that we ought not to separate 
 the inward causes of our errors from those which are de- 
 rived from objects, which may be called the outward, be- 
 cause the false appearance of these objects would not be 
 capable of leading us into error, if the will did not hurry 
 the mind into forming a precipitate judgment, when it is 
 not as yet sufficiently enlightened. 
 
 Since, however, it cannot exert this power over the un- 
 derstanding in things perfectly evident, it is plain that the 
 obscurity of the objects contributes somewhat to our mis- 
 takes ; and, indeed, there are often cases in which the pas- 
 sion which leads us to reason ill is almost imperceptible. 
 Hence it is useful to consider separately .those illusions 
 which arise principally from the things themselves : 
 
 I. 
 
 It is a false and impious opinion, that truth is so like to 
 falsehood, and virtue to vice, that it is impossible to dis- 
 tinguish between them ; but it is true that, in the majority 
 of cases, there is a mixture of truth and error, of virtue 
 and vice, of perfection and imperfection, and that this 
 mixture is one of the most ordinary sources of the false 
 judgments of men.
 
 SOPHISMS ARISING PROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 31 
 
 For it is through this deceptive mixture that the good 
 qualities of those whom we respect lead us to approve of 
 their errors, and that the defects of those whom we do not 
 esteem lead us to condemn what is good in them, since we 
 do not consider that the most imperfect are not so in 
 everything, and that God leaves in the best imperfections, 
 which, being the remains of human infirmity, ought not to 
 be the objects of our respect or imitation. 
 
 The reason of this is, that men rarely consider things in 
 detail ; they judge only according to their strongest impres- 
 sion, and perceive only what strikes them most ; thus, when 
 they perceive a good deal of truth in a discourse, they do 
 not notice the errors which are mixed with it ; and, on the 
 contrary, when the truths are mingled with many errors, 
 they pay attention only to the errors, the strong bears 
 away the weak, and the most vivid impression effaces that 
 which is more obscure. 
 
 It is, however, a manifest injustice to judge in this way. 
 There can be no possible reason for rejecting reason, and 
 truth is not less truth for being mixed with error. It does 
 not belong to men, although men may propound it. Thus, 
 though men, by reason of their errors, may deserve to be 
 condemned, the truth which they advance ought not to be 
 rejected. 
 
 Thus justice and truth require, that in all things which 
 are thus made up of good and evil we distinguish between 
 them ; and in this wise separation it is that mental precision 
 mainly appears. Hence the fathers of the church have 
 taken from pagan books very excellent things for their 
 morals, and thus St. Augustine has not scrupled to borrow 
 from a heretical Donatist seven rules for interpreting 
 Scripture. *
 
 32 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 Reason obliges us, when we can, to make this distinction ; 
 but since we have not always time to examine in detail the 
 good and evil that may be in everything, it is right, in such 
 circumstances, to give to them the name which they deserve 
 from their preponderating element. Thus we ought to say 
 that a man is a good philosopher who commonly reasons 
 well, and that a book is a good book which has notoriously 
 more of good than of evil in it. 
 
 Men, however, are very much deceived in these general 
 judgments ; for they often praise and blame things from the 
 consideration only of what is least important in them, 
 want of penetration leading them not to discover what is 
 most important, when it is not the most striking : thus, 
 although those who are wise judges in painting value in- 
 finitely more design than colour, or delicacy of touch, the 
 ignorant are, nevertheless, more impressed by a painting 
 whose colours are bright and vivid, than by another more 
 sober in colour, however admirable in design. 
 
 It must, however, be confessed, that false judgments are 
 not so common in the arts, since those who know nothing 
 about them defer more readily to the opinion of those who 
 are well informed ; but they are most frequent in those 
 things which lie within the jurisdiction of the people, and 
 of which the world claims the liberty of judging, such as 
 eloquence. 
 
 We call, for example, a preacher eloquent, when his 
 periods are well turned, and when he uses no inelegant 
 words ; and from this M. Vaugelas says, in one place, that 
 a bad word does a preacher or an advocate more harm 
 than a bad reasoning. "We must believe that this is simply 
 a truth of fact which he relates, and not an opinion which 
 he supports. It is true that we^fcrd people who judge in
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 33 
 
 this way, but it is true also that there is nothing more un- 
 reasonable than these judgments; for the purity of lan- 
 guage, and the multitude of figures, are but to eloquence 
 what the colouring is to a painting that is to say, only its 
 lower and more sensuous part ; but the most important 
 part consists in conceiving things forcibly, and in express- 
 ing them so that we may convey to the minds of the hearers 
 a bright and vivid image, which shall convey these things 
 not only in an abstract form, but with the emotions also 
 with which we conceive them ; and this we may find in 
 men of inelegant speech and unbalanced periods, while we 
 meet with it rarely in those who pay so much attention to 
 words and embellishments, since this care distracts their 
 attention from things, and weakens the vigor of their 
 thoughts, as painters remark, that those who excel in 
 colours do not commonly excel in design the mind not 
 being capable of this double application, and attention to 
 the one injuring the other. 
 
 We may say, in general, that the world values most 
 things by the exterior alone, since we find scarcely nny who 
 penetrate to the interior and to the foundation of them ; 
 everything is judged according to the fashion, and unhappy 
 are those who are not in favour. Such a one is clever, in- 
 telligent, profound, as much as you will, but he does not 
 speak fluently, and cannot turn a compliment well ; he may 
 reckon on being little esteemed through the whole of his 
 life by the generality of the world, and on seeing a multi- 
 tude of insignificant minds preferred before him. It is no 
 great evil not to have the reputation which we merit, but it 
 is a vast one to follow these false judgments, and to judge 
 of things only sui>ernciully ; and this we are bound, as far 
 ax possible, to avoid. 
 
 3*
 
 34 ' soPriTSite COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 II. 
 
 Amongst the causes which lead us into error by a false 
 lustre, which prevents our recognising it, we may justly 
 reckon a certain grand and pompous eloquence, which 
 Cicero calls abundantem sonantibus verbis uberibusgiie seten- 
 tiis ; for it is wonderful how sweetly a false reasoning flows 
 in at the close of a period which well fits the ear, or of a 
 figure which surprises \is by its novelty, and in the contem- 
 plation of which we are delighted. 
 
 These ornaments not only veil from our view the false- 
 hoods which mingle with discourse, but they insensibly 
 engender them, since it often happens that they are neces- 
 sary to the completion of the period or the figure. Thus, 
 when we hear an orator commencing a long gradation, or 
 an antithesis of many members, we have reason to be on 
 our guard, since it rarely happens that he finishes without 
 exaggerating the truth, in order to accommodate it to the 
 figure. He commonly disposes of it as we do the stones of 
 a building, or the metal of a statue : he cuts it, lengthens it, 
 narrows it, disguises it, as he thinks fit, in order to adapt 
 it to that vain work of words which he wishes to make. 
 
 How many false thoughts has the desire of making a 
 good point produced ! How many have been led into 
 falsehood for the sake of a rhyme ! How many foolish 
 things have certain Italian authors been led fa write, 
 through the affectation of using only Ciceronian words, and 
 of what is called pure Latinity ! Who could help smiling to 
 hear [Cardinal] Bembo say that a pope had been elected by 
 the favour of the immortal gods Deorum immortalium 
 beneficiis ? There are poets even who imagine that the 
 essence of poetry consists in the introduction of pagan divi- 
 nities ; and a German poet, a good versifier enough, though
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 35 
 
 not a very judicious writer, having been justly reproached 
 by Francis Picus Hirandola with having introduced into a 
 poem, where he describes the wars of Christians against 
 Christians, all the divinities of paganism, and having mixed 
 up Apollo, Diana, and Mercury, with the pope, the electors, 
 and the emperor, distinctly maintained that, without this, 
 it would not have been a poem, in proof of which he al- 
 leged this strange reason, that the poems of Hesoid, of 
 Homer, and of Virgil, are full of the names and the fables 
 of these gods ; whence he concluded that he might be 
 allowed to do the same. 
 
 These bad reasonings are often imperceptible to those who 
 make them, and deceive them first. They are deafened by 
 the sound of their own words, dazzled with the lustre of 
 their figures ; and the grandeur of certain words attaches 
 them unconsciously to thoughts of little solidity, which they 
 would doubtless have rejected had they exercised a little 
 reflection. 
 
 It is probable, for instance, that it was the word vestal 
 which pleased an author of our time, and which led him 
 to say to a young lady, to prevent her from being ashamed 
 of knowing Latin, that she need not blush to speak a lan- 
 guage which had been spoken by the vestals. For, if he 
 had considered this thought, he would have seen that he 
 might as justly have said to that lady that she ought to blush 
 to speak a language which had been formerly spoken by the 
 courtezans of Rome, who were far more numerous than the 
 vestals ; or that she ought to blush to speak any other lan- 
 guage than that of her own country, since the ancient vestals 
 spoke only their natural language. All these reasonings, 
 which are worth nothing, are as good as that of this author ;
 
 36 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 and the truth is, that the vestals have nothing to do with 
 justifying or condemning maidens who learn Latin. 
 
 The false reasonings of this kind, which are met with 
 continually in the writings of those who most affect elo- 
 quence, show us how necessary it is for the majority of 
 those who write or speak to be thoroughly convinced of this 
 excellent rule, that there is nothing beautiful except that 
 which is true ; which would take away from discourse a 
 multitude of vain ornaments and false thoughts. It is true 
 that this precision renders the style more dry and less 
 pompous ; but it also renders it clearer, more vigorous, 
 more serious, and more worthy of an honourable man. The 
 impression which it makes is less strong, but much more 
 lasting ; whereas that produced by these rounded periods is 
 BO transient, that it passes away almost as soon as we have 
 heard them. 
 
 III. 
 
 It is a very common defect amongst men to judge rashly 
 of the actions and intentions of others ; and they almost 
 always fall into it by a bad reasoning, through which, in 
 not recognising with sufficient clearness all the causes which 
 might produce any effect, they attribute that defect defi- 
 nitely to one cause, when it may have been, produced by 
 many others ; or, again, suppose that a cause, which has ac- 
 cidentally, when united with many circumstances, produced 
 an effect on one occasion, must do so on all occcasions. 
 
 A man of learning is found to be of the same opinion with 
 a heretic, in a matter of ciiticism, independent of religious 
 controversies : a malicious adversary concludes from this 
 that he is favourable to heretics ; but he concludes this 
 rashly and maliciously, since it is perhaps reason and truth 
 which have led him to adopt that opinion.
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 37 
 
 A writer may speak with some strength against an 
 opinion which he believes to be dangerous ; he will, from 
 this, be accused of hatred and animosity against the authors 
 who have advanced it ; but he will be so unjustly and rashly, 
 since this earnestness may arise from zeal for the truth, just 
 as well as from hatred of the men who oppose it. 
 
 A man is the friend of a vicious man : it is, therefore, 
 concluded that he is connected by some bond of interest with 
 him, and is a partaker in his crimes. This does not follow : 
 perhaps he knows nothing about them ; and perhaps he has 
 no part in them. 
 
 We fail to render true civility to those to whom it is due : 
 we are said to be proud and insolent ; *but this was perhaps 
 only an inadvertence or simple forgetfulness. 
 
 All exterior things are but equivocal signs, that is to 
 say, signs which may signify many things ; and we judge 
 rashly when we determine this sign to mean a particular 
 thing, without having any special reason for doing so. 
 Silence is sometimes a sign of modesty and wisdom, and 
 sometimes of stupidity. Slowness sometimes indicates pru- 
 dence, and sometimes heaviness of mind. Change is some- 
 times a sign of inconstancy, and sometimes of sincerity. 
 Thus it is bad reasoning to conclude that a man is incon- 
 stant, simply from the fact that he has changed his opinion ; 
 for he may have a gqpd reason for changing it. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The false inductions by which general propositions are 
 derived from some particular experiences, constitute one of 
 the most common sources of the false reasonings of men. 
 Three or four examples suffice them to make a maxim and 
 a common-place, which they then employ as a principle fo 
 deciding all things.
 
 38 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 Thei'e are many maladies hidden from the most skilful 
 physicians, and remedies often do not succeed : rash minds 
 hence conclude that medicine is absolutely useless, and only 
 a craft of charlatans. 
 
 There are light and loose women : this is sufficient for the 
 
 f- 
 
 jealous to conceive unjust suspicions against the most vir- 
 tuous, and for licentious writers to condemn all universally 
 
 There are some persons who hide great vices under an 
 appearance of piety ; libertines conclude from this that all 
 devotion is no better than hypocrisy. 
 
 There are some things obscure and hidden, and we are 
 often grossly deceived : all things are obscure and uncer- 
 tain, say the ancient and modern Pyrrhonists, and we 
 cannot know the truth of anything with certainty. 
 
 There is a want of equality in some of the actions of men, 
 and this is enough to constitute a common-place, from which 
 none are exempt. ' Reason," say they, " is so weak and 
 blind, that there is nothing so evidently clear as to be clear 
 enough for it ; the easy 'and the hard are both alike to it ; 
 all subjects are equal, and nature in general disclaims its 
 jurisdiction. We only think what we will in the very mo- 
 ment in which we will it ; we will nothing freely, nothing 
 absolutely, nothing constantly." 
 
 Most people set forth the defects or good qualities of 
 others only by general and extreme propositions. From 
 some particular actions we infer a habit : from three or four 
 faults we conclude a custom ; and what happens once a 
 month or once a year, happens every day, at every hour, 
 and every moment, in the discourses of men, so little pains 
 do they take to observe in them the limits of truth and 
 justice.
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 39 
 
 V. 
 
 It is a weakness and injustice which we often condemn, 
 but which we rarely avoid, to judge of purposes by the 
 event, and to reckon those who had taken a prudent reso- 
 lution according to the circumstances, so far as they could 
 see them, guilty of all the evil consequences which may 
 have happened therefrom, either simply through accident, or 
 through the malice of others who had thwarted it, or 
 through some other circumstances' which it was impossible 
 for them to foresee. 
 
 M"H nut only love to be fortunate as much as to be wise, 
 but thi-y make no distinction between the fortunate and the 
 wise, nur between the unfortunate ;ui<l the guilty. This 
 distinction is too subtile for them. We are ingenious in 
 finding out the faults which we imagine have produced the 
 want of success ; and as astrologers, when they know a 
 given event, fail not to discover the aspect of the stars which 
 produced it, so also we never fail to find, after disgraces and 
 misfortune, that those who have met with them have de- 
 served them by some imprudence. He is unsuccessful, 
 therefore he is in fault. In this way the world reasons, 
 and in this way it has always reasoned, because there has 
 always been little equity in the judgments of men, and be- 
 cause, not knowing the true causes of things, they substitute 
 others according to the event, by praising those who are 
 successful, and blaming those who are not. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But there are no false reasonings more common amongst 
 men than those into which they fall, either by judging 
 rashly of the truth of things from some authority insuffi-
 
 40 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 cient to assure them of it, or by deciding the inward essence 
 by the outward manner. We call the former the sophism 
 of authority, the latter the sophism of the manner. 
 
 To understand how common these are, it is only necessary 
 to consider that the majority of men are determined to be- 
 lieve one opinion rather than another, not by any solid and 
 essential reasons which might lead them to know the truth, 
 but by certain exterior and foreign marks which are more 
 consonant to, or which they judge to be consonant to, truth, 
 than to falsehood. 
 
 The reason of this is, that the interior truth of things is 
 often deeply hidden ; that the minds of men are commonly 
 feeble and dark, full of clouds and false light, while their 
 outward marks of truth are clear and sensible ; so that, as 
 men naturally incline to that which is easiest, they almost 
 always range themselves on the side where they see those 
 exterior marks of truth which are readily discovered. 
 
 These may be reduced to two principles, the authority 
 of him who propounds Ohe thing, and the manner in which 
 it is propounded. And these two ways of persuading are so 
 powerful that they carry away almost all minds. 
 
 We may derive convincing arguments in matters of reli- 
 gion from the manner in which they are advanced. When 
 we see, for example, in different ages of the church, and 
 principally in the last, men who endeavour to propagate 
 their opinions by bloodshed and the sword ; when we see 
 them arm themselves against the church by schism, against 
 temporal powers by revolt ; when we see people without 
 the common commission, without miracles, without any ex- 
 ternal marks of piety, and with the plain marks rather of 
 licentiousness, undertake to change the faith and discipline 
 of the church in so criminal a manner, it is more than suffi-
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 41 
 
 cient to make reasonable men reject them, and to prevent 
 the most ignorant from listening to them. 
 
 But in those things, the knowledge of which is not abso- 
 lutely necessary, and which God has left more to the dis- 
 cernment of the reason of each one in particular, the au- 
 thority and the manner are not so important, and they 
 often lead many to form judgments contrary to the truth. 
 
 We do not undertake to give here the rules and the pre- 
 cise limits of the respect which is due to authority in human 
 things, we simply indicate some gross faults which are 
 committed in this matter. 
 
 We often regard only the number of the witnesses, with- 
 out at all considering whether the number increases the 
 probability of their having discovered the truth, which is, 
 however, unreasonable ; for, as an author of our time has 
 wisely remarked, in difficult things, which each must dis- 
 cover for himself, it is more likely that a single person will 
 discover the truth than that many will. Thus the foila-- 
 ing is not a valid infi-rcupoj thi a ^pinif! i? h?H fry th* 
 majority of philosophers j it is, tbgrefore^ thejjaejst.^. 
 
 We are often persuaded, by certain qualities which have 
 no connection with the truth, of the things which we 
 examine. Thus there are a. num,ber of people who trust 
 implicitly to those who are older, and who have had more 
 experience, even in those tilings which do not depend on age 
 or experience, but on the clearness of the mind. 
 
 I';.-t\. wisdom, moderation, are \viili..iit .Imiiit tin- iii<>st 
 estimable qualities in the world, and they ought to give 
 gnat authority to those who possess them in those things 
 which depend on piety or Sincerity, and even on the know- 
 ledge of God, for it is most probable that God communicates 
 more to those who serve him more purely ; but there are a
 
 42 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 multitude of things which depend only on human intelli- 
 gence, human experience, and human penetration, and, in 
 these things, those who have the superiority in intellect and 
 in study, deserve to be relied on more than others. The 
 contrary, however, often happens, and many reckon it best 
 to follow, even in these things, the most devout men. 
 
 This arises, in part, from the fact that these advantages 
 of mind are not so obvious as the external decorum which 
 appears in pious persons, and in part, also, from the fact 
 that men do not like to make these distinctions. Discri- 
 mination perplexes them ; they will have aft or nothing. 
 If they trust to a man in one thing, they will trust to him 
 in everything: if they do not in one, they will not in any ; 
 they love short, plain, and easy ways. But this disposition, 
 though common, is nevertheless contrary to reason, which 
 shows us that the same persons are not to be trusted to in 
 anything, because they are not distinguished in anything ; 
 and that it is bad reasoning to conclude : he is a serioug 
 man, therefore he is intelligent and clever in everything. 
 
 VII. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that if any errors are pardonable, those 
 into which we fall through our excessive deference to the 
 opinion of good men are among the number. But there is 
 a delusion much more absurd in itself, but which is never- 
 theless very common, that, namely, of believing that a man 
 speaks the truth because he is a man of birth, of fortune, or 
 high in office. 
 
 ITot that any formally make these kinds of reasonings 
 he has a hundred thousand livres a year ; therefore he pos- 
 sesses judgment : he is of high birth ; therefore what he 
 advances must be true : he is a poor man ; therefore he
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 43 
 
 is wrong. Nevertheless, something of this kind passes 
 through the minds of the majority, and unconsciously bears 
 away their judgment. 
 
 Let the same thing be proposed by a man of quality, and 
 by one of no distinction, and it will often be found that we 
 approve of it in the mouth of the former, when we scarcely 
 condescend to listen to it in that of the latter. Scripture de- 
 signed to teach us this disposition of men, in that perfect 
 representation which is given of it in the book of Ecclesi- 
 asticus.* " When a rich man speaketh, every one holdeth 
 his tongue, and look, what he saith they extol it to the 
 skies ; but if the poor man speak, they say, ' What fellow is 
 this?' " (Dives locutus est, et omnes tacuerunt, et verbum 
 Uliits u^que ad nubes perducent ; pauper locuttts est, et dicunt, 
 Quis est hie 1 ) 
 
 It is certain that complaisance and flattery have much to 
 do with the approbation which is bestowed on the actions 
 and words of people of quality ; as also that they often gain 
 this by a certain outward grace, and by a noble, free, and 
 natural bearing, which is sometimes so distinctive that it is 
 almost impossible for it to be imitated by those who are of 
 low birth. It is certain, also, that there are many who 
 approve of everything which is done and said by the great, 
 through an inward abasement of soul, who bend under the 
 weight of grandeur, and whose sight is not strong enough to 
 bear its lustre ; as, indeed, that the outward pomp which 
 environs them always imposes a little, and makes some im- 
 pression on the strongest minds. 
 
 This illusion springs from the corruption of the heart of 
 man, who, having a strong passion for honours and pleasures, 
 
 EcclesiasticuH xiii. 23.
 
 44 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 necessarily conceives a great affection for the means by 
 which these honours and pleasures are obtained. The love 
 which we have for all those things which are valued by the 
 world, makes us judge those happy who possess them ; and, 
 in thus judging them happy, we place them above ourselves, 
 and regard them as eminent and exalted persons. This 
 habit of regarding them with respect passes insensibly from 
 their fortune to their mind. Men do not commonly do 
 things by halves : we, therefore, give them minds as exalted 
 as their rank ; we submit to their opinions ; and this is the 
 reason of the credit which they commonly obtain in the 
 affairs which they manage. 
 
 But this illusion is still stronger in the great themselves, 
 when they have not laboured to correct the impression which 
 their fortune naturally makes on their minds, than it is in 
 their inferiors, ^ome derive from their estate and riches a 
 reason for maintaining that their opinions ought to prevail 
 over those who are beneath them. They canfaot bear that 
 those people whom they regard with contempt should pre- 
 tend to have as much judgment and reason as themselves, 
 and this makes them so impatient of the least contradiction. 
 All this springs from the same source, that is, from the false 
 ideas which they have of their grandeur, nobility, and 
 wealth. Instead of considering them as things altogether 
 foreign from their character, which do not prevent them at 
 all from being perfectly equal to all the rest of men, both 
 in mind and body, and which do not prevent their judgment 
 even from being as weak and as liable to be deceived as that 
 of all others, they, in some sort, incorporate with their very 
 essence all these qualities of grand, noble, rich, master, lord, 
 prince, they exaggerate their idea of themselves with thesa
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE PROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 45 
 
 things, and never represent themselves to themselves with- 
 out all their titles, their equipage, and their train. 
 
 They are accustomed from, their infancy to consider them- 
 selves as of a different species from other men ; they never 
 mingle in imagination with the mass of human kind ; they 
 are, in their own eyes, always counts or dukes, and never 
 simply men. Thus they shape to themselves a soul and 
 judgment according to the measure of their fortune, and 
 believe themselves as much above others in mind as they 
 are above them in birth and fortune. 
 
 The folly of the human mind i such, that there is nothing 
 which may not serve to aggrandise the idea which it has of 
 itself. A beautiful horse, grand clothes, a long beard, make 
 men consider themselves more clever j and there are few 
 who do not think more of themselves on horseback or in a 
 coach than on foot. It is easy to convince everybody that 
 there is nothing more ridiculous than these judgments, but 
 it is very difficult to guard entirely against the secret im- 
 pression which these outward things make upon the mind. 
 All that we can do is to accustom ourselves as much as pos- 
 sible to give no influence at all to those qualities which can- 
 not contribute towards finding the truth, and to give it even 
 to those which do thus contribute only so far as they really 
 contribute to this end. Age, knowledge, study, experience, 
 mind, energy, memory, accuracy, labour, avail to find the 
 truth of hidden things, and these qualities, therefore, deserve 
 to be respected ; but it is always necessary to weigh with 
 care, and then to make a comparison with the opposite 
 reasons ; for from separate individual things we can con- 
 chide nothing with certainty, since there are very false 
 opinions which have been sanctioned by men of great mental 
 power, who possessed tin-so qualities to a great extent
 
 46 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 There is something still more deceptive in the mistakes 
 which arise from the manner, for we are naturally led to 
 believe that a man is in the right when he speaks with 
 grace, with ease, with gravity, with moderation, and with 
 gentleness ; and, on the contrary, that a man is in the wrong 
 when he speaks harshly, or manifests anything of passion, 
 acrimony, or presumption, in his actions and words. 
 
 Nevertheless, if we judge of the essence of things by these 
 outward and sensible appearances, we must be often de- 
 ceived. For there are many people who utter follies gravely 
 and modestly ; and others, on the contrary, who, being 
 naturally of a quick temper, or under the influence even of 
 some passion, which appears in their countenance or their 
 __ words, have nevertheless the truth on their side. There 
 are some men of very moderate capacity, and very super- 
 ficial, who, from having been nourished at court, where the 
 art of pleasing is studied and practised better than any- 
 where else, have very agreeable manners, by means of which 
 they -render many false judgments acceptable ; and there 
 are others, on the contrary, who, having nothing outward 
 to recommend them, have, nevertheless, a great and solid 
 mind within. There are some who speak better than 
 they think, and others who think better than they speak. 
 Thus reason demands of those who are capable of it, that 
 they judge not by these outward things, and hesitate not to 
 yield to the truth, not only when it is proposed in ways 
 that are offensive and disagreeable, but even when it is 
 mingled with much of falsehood ; for the same person may 
 speak truly in one thing, and falsely in another ; may be 
 right in one thing, and wrong in another.
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 47 
 
 It is necessary, therefore, to consider each thing separ- 
 ately, that is to say, we must judge of the manner by the 
 manner, and of the matter by the matter, and not of the 
 matter by the manner, nor of the manner by the matter. A 
 man does wrong to speak with anger, and he does right to 
 speak the truth ; and, on the contrary, another is right in 
 speaking calmly and civilly, and he is wrong in advancing 
 falsehoods. 
 
 But as it is reasonable to be on our guard against con- 
 cluding that a thing is true or false, because it is proposed 
 in such a way, it is right, also, that those who wish to per- 
 suade others of any truth which they have discovered, 
 should study to clothe it in the garb most suitable for 
 making it acceptable, and to avoid those revolting ways of 
 stating it which only lead to its rejection. 
 
 They ought to remember that when we seek to move the 
 minds of people, it is a small thing that we have right 
 on our side ; and it is a great evil to have only right, and 
 not to have also that which is necessary for making it" 
 acceptable. 
 
 If they seriously honour the truth, they ought not to dis- 
 honour it by covering it with the marks of falsehood and 
 deceit ; and if they love it sincerely, they ought not to at- 
 tach to it the hatred and aversion of men, by the offensive 
 way in which they propound it. It is the most important, 
 as well as the most useful precept of rhetoric, that it 
 behoves us to govern the spirit as well as the words ; for 
 although it is a different thing to be wrong in the manner 
 from being wrong in the matter, the faults, nevertheless, 
 of the manner are often greater and more important than 
 those of the matter.
 
 48 SOPHISMS COMMON IN CIVIL LIFE. 
 
 In reality, all these fiery, presumptuous, bitter, obstinate, 
 passionate manners, always spring from some disorder of 
 the mind > which is often more serious than the defect of in- 
 telligence and of knowledge, which we reprehend in others* 
 It is, indeed, always unjust to seek to persuade men in this 
 way ; for it is very right that we should lead them to the 
 truth wlren we know it ; but it is wrong to compel others 
 to take as true everything that we believe, and to defer to 
 our authority alone. We do this, however, when we pro- 
 pose the truth in this offensive manner. For the way of 
 Speaking generally enters into the mind before the reasons, 
 since the mind is more prompt to notice the manner of the 
 speaker than it is to comprehend the solidity of his proofs, 
 which are often, indeed, not comprehended at all. Now the 
 manner of the discourse being thus separated from the 
 proofs, marks only the authority which he who speaks arro- 
 gates to himself ; so that if he is bitter and imperious, he 
 necessarily revolts the minds of Bothers, since he appears to 
 wish to gain, by authority, and by a kind of tyranny, that 
 which ought only to be obtained by persuasion and reason. 
 
 This injustice is still greater when we employ these offen- 
 sive ways in combating common and received opinions ; for 
 the judgment of an individual may indeed be preferred to" 
 .that of many when it is more correct, but an individual 
 ought never to maintain that his authority should prevail 
 against that of all others. 
 
 Thus, not only modesty and prudence, but justice itself, 
 obliges us to assume a modest air when we combat common 
 opinions or established authority, otherwise we cannot escape 
 the injustice of opposing the authority of an individual to 
 an authority either public, or greater and more widely estab- 
 lished than our own* We cannot exercise too much modera-
 
 THOSE WHICH ARISE FROM OBJECTS THEMSELVES. 49 
 
 tion when we seek to disturb the position of a received 
 opinion or of an ancient faith. This is so true, that St. 
 Augustine extended it even to religious truths, having 
 given this excellent rule to all those who have to instruct 
 others : 
 
 "Observe," says he, " in what way the wise and religious 
 catholics taught that which they had to communicate to 
 others. If they were things common and authorized, they 
 propounded them in a manner full of assurance, and free 
 from every trace of doubt by being accompanied with the 
 greatest possible gentleness ; but if they were extraordinary 
 things, although they themselves very clearly recognized 
 their truth, they still proposed them rather as doubts and as 
 questions to be examined, than as dogmas and fixed deci- 
 sions, in order to accommodate themselves In this to the 
 weakness of those who heard them." And so if a truth be 
 so high that it is above the strength of those to whom it is 
 spoken, they prefer rather to keep it back for a while, in 
 order to give them time for growth, and for becoming 
 capable of receiving it, instead of making it known to 
 them that state of weakness in which it would have 
 overwhelmed them.
 
 LECTURES 
 
 SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON 
 
 MODIFIED LOGIC.
 
 LECTURES ON LOGIC. 
 
 LECTURE I. MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 PART L MODIFIED STOICHEIOLOGY. 
 SECTION L DOCTRINE OF TRUTH AND ERROR. 
 
 TRUTH ITS CHARACTER AND KINDS. 
 
 HAVING now terminated the Doctrine of Pure or .Abstract 
 Logic, we proceed to that of Modified or 
 LoglC '~ Conreie_Logic-_ In entering on this sub- 
 ject, I have to recall to your memory what 
 has formerly been stated in regard to the object which 
 Modified Logic proposes for consideration. Pure Lotto 
 takes into account only the necessary conditions of thought, 
 as founded on the nature of the thinking process itself* 
 M'-liJifl I,ogjr, on tli.- <-oiitr;iry, ron.sidi.Tii thi; conditions to 
 which thn^gfrtiM nltf ftt arising from the empirical circum- 
 stances, external and internal, under which exclusively it is 
 the will of our Creator that man should manifest his faculty 
 of thinking. Pure Logic is thus exclusively conversant 
 with the form ; Modified Logic is, likewise, occupied with 
 the matter, of thought. And as their objects are different,
 
 54 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 so, likewise, must be their ends. The end of Pure Logic is 
 formal truth, the harmony of thought with thought ; the 
 end of Modified Logic is the harmony of thought with 
 istence^ Of these ends, that which Pure Logic proposes is 
 less ambitious, but it is fully and certainly accomplished ; 
 the end which Modified Logic proposes is higher, but it is 
 far less perfectly attained. The problems which Modified 
 Logic has to solve may be reduced to three : 
 ^' What ^ truth and its contradictory op- 
 posite, Error ? 2, What are the Causes 
 of Error, and the Impediments to Truth, by which man is 
 beset in the employment of his faculties, and what are the 
 Means of their Removal ? And, 3, What are the Subsi- 
 diaries by which Human Thought may be strengthened and 
 guided in the exercise of its functions ? 
 
 From this statement it is evident that Concrete Logic 
 
 might, like Pure Logic, have been divided 
 
 Anddistributedbe- into a Stoicheiology and a Methodology, 
 
 tween its stoicheiol- ^ f ormer comprising the first two heads, 
 
 ogy and its Method- 
 ology. the latter the third. For if to Modified 
 
 Stoicheiology we refer the consideration of 
 the nature of concrete truth and error, and of the conditions 
 of a merely not erroneous employment of thought, this 
 will be exausted in the First and Second Chapters ; where- 
 as, if we refer to Methodology a consideration of the means 
 of employing thought not merely without error, but with 
 a certain positive perfection, this is what the Third Chapter 
 professes to expound. 
 
 I commence the First Chapter, which proposes to answer 
 the question, What is Truth ? with its correlatives, by 
 the dictation of the following paragraphs :
 
 THUTH ITS CHARACTER AND KINDS. 55 
 
 IT I. The end which all our scientific efforts are ex- 
 erted to accomplish, is Truth and 
 d 
 
 Certainty, what 
 
 pr.i.Tn,thnd Truth is the congapoiid- 
 
 ence or agreement of a cognit'* " 
 its object ; its Criterion is the necessity determined by 
 the laws which govern our faculties of knowledge ; and 
 Certainty is the consciousness of this necewrily. Cer- 
 tainty, or the conscious necessity of knowledge, abso- 
 lutely excludes the admission of any opposite supposi- 
 tion. Where such appears admissible, doubt and un- 
 certainty arise. If we consider truth by relation to 
 the degree and kind of Certainty, we have to distinguish 
 Knowledge, Belief, and Opinion. Knowledge and Be- 
 lief differ not only in degree, but in kind. KnowlqdjrH 
 is a certainty founded upon insight j Belief is a cer- 
 tainty fo"nilgd iTp< filing 'rhe one is perspicupusi 
 and objective ; the other is obscure and subjective. 
 Each, however, supposes the other ; and an qgsurajope 
 is said to be a knojtigdge or ajfcgliefj according as the 
 one element or the other preponderates. Oninioji is 
 the admission of something as true, where, however, 
 neither insight nor feeling is so intense as to necessi- 
 tate a perfect certainty. What prevents the admission 
 of a proposition as certain is called QQJ^L The 
 approximation of the imperfect certainty of opinion to 
 the perfect certainty of knowledge or belief is called 
 Probability. 
 
 If we consider Truth with reference to Knowledge, 
 and to the way in which this knowledge arises, we 
 in 1 1 >t distinguish Empirical or ^posteriori, from Pure 
 or a jrriori Truth. The former has reference to cogni- 
 tions which have their source in the presentations of
 
 56 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 Perception, External and Internal, and which obtain 
 their form by the elaboration of the Understanding or 
 faculty of Kelations (Siuvoia). The latter is contained in 
 the necessary and universal cognitions afforded by the 
 Regulative Faculty Intellect Proper or Common 
 Sense (vovs). 
 
 This paragraph, after stating that Truth and Certainty 
 constitute the end of all our endeavors 
 
 Explication. _ 
 
 after knowledge, for only in the attain- 
 ment of truth and certainty can we possibly attain to know- 
 ledge or science > I say, after the statement of this mani- 
 fest proposition, it proceeds to define what is meant by the 
 two terms Truth and Certainty ; and, to commence with the 
 former, Truth is defined, the correspondence or agreement 
 of a cognition or cofinitive act of thought with its object. 
 The question What is truth 1 is an old and celebrated 
 problem. It was proposed by the Roman 
 
 Truth.-what. . _ * . *.. 
 
 Governor- by Pontius Pilate to our Sa- 
 viour ; and it is a question which still recurs, and is still 
 keenly agitated in the most recent schools of Philosophy. 
 In one respect all are nearly agreed in regard to the defini- 
 tion of the term, for all admit that by truth 
 ^Definition of the ^ understood a harmony, an agreement, 
 
 a correspondence between our thought and 
 that which we think about. This definition of truth we owe 
 to the schoolmen. " Veritas intellectus" says Acquinas, 
 " est adcequatio intellectus et rei, secundum quod intellectus 
 dicit esse, quod est, vel non esse, qoud non est" From the 
 schoolmen, this definition has been handed down to modern 
 philosophers, by whom it is currently employed, without, in 
 general, a suspicion of its origin. It is not, therefore, in 
 regard to the meaning of the term truth t that there is any
 
 TRUTH ITS CHARACTER AND KINDS. 57 
 
 difference of opinion among philosophers. The questions 
 
 which have provoked discussion, and which 
 
 I* 1 * 1 * remain, as heretofore, without a definitive 
 
 regarding Truth. 
 
 solution, are not whether truth be the har- 
 mony of thought and reality, but whether this harmony, or 
 truth, be attainable, and whether we possess any criterion 
 by which we can be assured of its attainment Considering, 
 however, at present only the meaning of the term, philoso- 
 phers have divided the Truth (or the harmony of thought 
 and its object) into different species, to which they have 
 given diverse names ; but they are at one neither in the 
 division nor in the nomenclature. 
 
 It is plain that for man there can only be conceived two 
 
 kinds of truth, because there are for human 
 For* man only two thought only two species of object. For 
 
 kinds oJTnith,-For- , . , ... 
 
 mal and Rwd. that about which we think must either be 
 
 a thought, or something which, a thought 
 
 contains. On this is founded the distinction of Formal 
 
 Knowledge and Real Knowledge, of Formal Truth and 
 
 Real Truth. Of these in their order : 
 
 I. In regard to the former, a thought abstracted from 
 what it contains, that is, from its matter or 
 
 I. Formal Truth. , . . , . 
 
 what it is conversant about, is the more 
 form of thought. The knowledge of the form of thought is 
 a formal knowledge, and the harmony of thought with the 
 
 form of thought is, consequently, Formal 
 Form* Truth of Tru ^ Now F orma i Knowledge is of two 
 
 two kindi, LoftaJ 
 
 tad Mathematical. kinds ; for it regards either the conditions 
 of the Elaborative Faculty, the Faculty 
 of Thought Proper, or the conditions of our Presentations 
 or Representations of external things, that is, the intuitions 
 of Space and Time. The former of these sciences is Pure
 
 58 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 Logic the science which considers the laws to which the 
 Understanding is astricted in its elaborative operations, 
 without enquiring what is the object, what is the matter, 
 to which these operations are applied. The latter of these 
 sciences is Mathematics, or the science of Quantity, which 
 considers the relations of Time and Space, without enquiring 
 whether there be any actual reality in space or time. For- 
 mal truth will, therefore, be of two kinds, Logical and 
 Mathematical. Logical truth is the harmony or agreement of 
 our thoughts with themselves as thoughts, 
 
 . Logical Truth. ' 
 
 in other words, the correspondence of 
 thought with the universal laws of thinking. These laws 
 are the object of Pure or General Logic, and in these it 
 places the criterion of truth. This criterion is, however, 
 only the negative condition only the conditio sine qua 
 non, of truth. Logical truth is supposed in supposing the 
 possibility of thought ; for all thought presents a combi- 
 nation, the elements of which are repugnant or congruent, 
 but which cannot be repugnant and congruent at the same 
 time. Logic might be true, although we possessed no truth 
 beyond its fundamental laws ; although we knew nothing 
 of any real existence beyond the formal hypothesis of its 
 possibility. 
 
 But were the Laws of Logic purely subjective, that is, 
 were they true only for our thought alone, and without any 
 objective validity, all human sciences (and Mathematics 
 among the rest) would be purely subjective likewise ; for 
 we are cognizant of objects only under the forms and rules 
 of which Logic is the scientific development. If the true 
 character of objective validity be universality, the Laws of 
 Logic are really of that character, for these laws constrain
 
 TRUTH ITS CHARACTER AND KINDS. 59 
 
 us, by their own authority, to regard them as the universal 
 laws not only of human thought, but of universal reason. 
 The case is the same with the other formal science, the 
 science of Quantity, or Mathematics. 
 
 Mathematical Truth. 
 
 Without inquiring into the reality of ex- 
 istences, and without borrowing from, or attributing to, 
 them anything, Arithmetic, the science of Discrete Quan- 
 tity, creates its numbers, and Geometry, the science of 
 Continuous Quantity, creates its figures ; and both operate 
 upon these their objects in absolute independence of all 
 external actuality. The two mathematical sciences are de- 
 pendent for their several objects only on the notion of time 
 and the notion of space, notions under which alone matter 
 can be conceived as possible, for all matter supposes space, 
 and all matter is moved in space and time. But to the 
 notions of space and time the existence or non-existence of 
 matter is indifferent ; indifferent, consequently, to Geometry 
 and Arithmetic, so long at least as they remain in the lofty 
 regions of pure speculation, and do not descend to the 
 practical application of their principles. If matter had no 
 existence, nay, if space and time existed only in our minds, 
 mathematics would still be true ; but their truth would be 
 of a purely formal and ideal character, would furnish us 
 with no knowledge of objective realities. 
 
 So much for Formal Truth, under its two species of Logi- 
 cal and Mathematical. 
 
 The other genus of truth (the end which the Real 
 Sciences propose) is the harmony between 
 
 ii. R*ai Truth. a thought and its matter. The Real Sci- 
 ences are those which have a determinate 
 reality for their object, and which are con- 
 versant about existences other than the forms of thought.
 
 60 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 The Formal Sciences have a superior certainty to the real ; 
 
 for they are simply ideal combinations, und they construct 
 
 their objects without inquiring about their objective reality. 
 
 The real sciences are sciences of fact, for the point from 
 
 which, they depart is always a fact, 
 
 Under the Real always a presentation. Some of these 
 
 sciences are included rest on the presentations of Self-conscious- 
 
 the Mental and Ma- 
 
 teriai. ness, or the facts of mind ; others on the 
 
 presentations of Sensitive Perception, or 
 the facts of nature. The former are the Mental Sciences, 
 the latter the Material. The facts of niind are given partly 
 as contingent, partly as necessary ; the latter the neces- 
 sary facts are universal virtually and in themselves ; the 
 former the contingent facts only obtain a fictitious uni- 
 versality by a process of generalization. The facts of 
 nature, however necessary in themselves, are given to us 
 only as contingent and isolated phenomena ; they have, 
 therefore, only that conditional, that empirical, generality, 
 which we bestow on them by classification. 
 
 Real truth is, therefore, the correspondence of our 
 
 thoughts with the existences which con- 
 
 How can we know stitute their objects. But here a difficulty 
 
 that there is a corre- ar i ses : How can we know that there is, 
 
 pondence between 
 
 oyir thought nd tts "^ there can be, such a correspondence ? 
 
 AH that we know of the objects is through 
 the presentations of our faculties ; but 
 whether these present the objects as they are in themselves, 
 we can never ascertain, for to do this it would be requisite 
 to go out of ourselves, out of our faculties, to obtain a 
 knowledge of the objects by other faculties, and thus to com- 
 pare our old presentations with our new. But all this, even 
 were the supposition possible, would be incompetent to
 
 TRUTH ITS CHABACTEK AND KINDS. 61 
 
 afford us the certainty required. For were it possible to 
 leave our old, and to obtain a new, set of faculties, by 
 which to test the old, still the veracity of these new faculties 
 would be equally obnoxious to doubt as the veracity of the 
 old. For what guarant3e could we obtain for the credibility 
 in the one case, which we do not already possess in the 
 other ? The new faculties could only assert their own 
 truth ; but this is done by the old ; and it is impossible to 
 imagine any presentations of the non-ego by any finite in- 
 telligence, to which a doubt might not be raised; whether 
 these presentations were not merely subjective modifications 
 of the conscious ego itself. All that could be said in 
 answer to such a doubt is, that if such were true, our whole 
 nature is a \ie, a supposition which is not, without the 
 strongest evidence, to be admitted ; and the argument is as 
 competent against the sceptic in our present condition, as 
 it would be were we endowed with any other conceivable 
 form of Acquisitive and Cognitive Faculties. But I am 
 here trenching on what ought to be reserved for an expla- 
 nation of the Criterion of Truth. 
 
 Such, as it appears to me, is the only rational division of 
 Truth according to the different character 
 of the objects to which thought is relative, 
 into Formal and into Real Truth. For- 
 mal Truth, as we have seen, is subdivided into Logical and 
 into Mathematical. Real Truth might likewise be sub- 
 divided, were this requisite, into various species. For 
 example, Metaphysical Truth might denote the harmony of 
 thought with the necessary facts of mind ; 
 Meuphy*ioi. Psychological Truth, the harmony of 
 "phyJoJ* thought with the contingent facts of 
 
 mind ; and Physical Truth, the harmony 
 of thought with the phenomena of external experience.
 
 62 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 It now remains to say a word in regard to the confusion 
 
 which has been introduced into this sub- 
 Various applications . , ,, n j. ,. ,. j 
 ot the term rrutft. J ect ' b ? the groundless distinctions and 
 
 contradictions of philosophers. Some have 
 absurdly given the name of truth to the mere reality of 
 existence, altogether abstracted from any conception or 
 judgment relative to it, in any intelligence, human or 
 divine. In this sense physical truth has been used to 
 denote the actual existence of a thing. Some have given 
 the name of metaphysical truth to the congruence of the 
 thing with its idea in the mind of the Creator. Others 
 again have bestowed the name of metaphysical truth on the 
 mere logical possibility of being thought ; while they have 
 denominated by logical truth the metaphysical or physical 
 correspondence of thought with its objects. Finally, the 
 term moral or ethical truth has been given to veracity, or 
 the correspondence of thought with its expression. In this 
 last case, truth is not, as in the others, employed in relation 
 to thought and its object, but to thought and its enounce- 
 ment. So much for the notion, and the principal dis- 
 tinctions of Truth. 
 
 But, returning to the paragraph; I take the next clause, 
 
 which is, " The Criterion of truth is the 
 The Criterion of sit determined bv the laws which 
 
 Truth. J 
 
 govern our faculties of knowledge ; and the 
 consciousness of this necessity is certainty." That the ne- 
 cessity of a cognition, that is, the impossibility of thinking 
 it other than as it is presented, that this necessity, as 
 founded on the laws of thought, is the criterion of truth, is 
 shown by the circumstance that where such necessity is 
 found, all doubt in regard to the correspondence of the 
 cognitive thought and its object must vanish ; for to doubt
 
 TRUTH ITS CHARACTER AXD KINDS. 63 
 
 whether what we necessarily think in a certain manner, 
 actually exists as we conceive it, is nothing less than an 
 endeavor to think the necessary as the not necessary or the 
 impossible, which is contradictory. 
 
 What has just been said also illustrates the truth of the 
 next sentence of the paragraph, viz., " Certainty or the 
 conscious necessity of a cognition absolutely excludes the 
 admission of any opposite supposition. When such is found 
 to be admissible, doubt and uncertainty arise." This sen- 
 tence requiring no explanation, I proceed to the next, viz., 
 " If we consider truth by the relation to the degree and 
 kind of Certainty, we have to distinguish Knowledge, 
 Belief, and Opinion. Knowledge and Belief differ not only 
 in degree but in kind. Knowledge is a certainty founded 
 on intuition. Belief is a certainty founded upon feeling. 
 The one is perspicuous and objective, the other is obscure 
 and subjective. Each, however, supposes the other, and an 
 assurance is said to be a knowledge or a belief, according 
 as the one element or the other preponderates." 
 
 In reference to this passage, it is necessary to say some- 
 thing in regard to the difference of Know- 
 Knowledge and Be- ledge and Belief. In common language 
 itof-thetrdiflerence. the word Bdief'vd, often used to denote an 
 inferior degree of certainty. We may, how- 
 
 That the certainty 
 
 of ail knowledge u ever, be equally certain of what we believe 
 ultimately resolvable ag o f what we know, and it has, not with- 
 ftliief* "Plained out ground, been maintained by many 
 by Luther. philosophers, both in ancient and in mo- 
 
 dern times, that the certainty of all know- 
 ledge in, in its ultimate analysis, resolved into a certainty 
 of belief. " All things," says Luther. " stand in a belief, in 
 a faith, which he can neither see nor comprehend. The
 
 64 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 man who would make these visible, manifest, and compre- 
 hensible, has vexation and heart-grief for his reward. May 
 the Lord increase Belief in you and in others." But you 
 may perhaps think that the saying of Luther is to be taken 
 theologically, and that, philosophically considered, all belief 
 ought to be founded on knowledge, not all knowledge in 
 belief. But the same doctrine is held even by those phi- 
 losophers who are the least disposed to mysticism or blind 
 faith. Among these Aristotle stands dis- 
 tinguished. He defines science, strictly so 
 called, or the knowledge of indubitable truths, merely by 
 the intensity of our conviction or subjective assurance ; and 
 on a primary and incomprehensible belief he hangs the 
 whole chain of our comprehensible or immediate knowledge. 
 The doctrine which has been called The Philosophy of 
 Common Sense, is the doctrine which founds all our know- 
 ledge on belief; and, though this has not been signalized, 
 the doctrine of Common Sense is perhaps better stated by 
 the Stagirite than by any succeeding thinker. " What," he 
 says, " appears to all men, that we affirm to be, and he who 
 rejects this belief (mcms) will assuredly advance nothing 
 better worthy of credit." This passage is from his Nicoma- 
 cJiean Ethics. But, in his Physical Treatises, he founds in 
 belief the knowledge we have of the reality of motion, and 
 by this, as a source of knowledge paramount to the Under- 
 standing, he supersedes the contradictions which are in- 
 volved in our conception of motion, and which had so 
 acutely been evolved by the Eleatic Zeno, in order to show 
 that motion was impossible. In like manner, in his Logical 
 Treatises, Aristotle shows that the primary or ultimate 
 principles of knowledge must be incomprehensible ; for if 
 comprehensible, they must be comprehended in some higher
 
 TRUTH ITS CHARACTER AND KIJCDS. 65 
 
 notion, and this again, if not itself incomprehensible, must 
 be again comprehended in a still higher, and so on in a 
 progress ad infinitum, which is absurd. But what is 
 given as an ultimate and incomprehensible principle of 
 knowledge, is given as a fact, the existence of which we 
 must admit, but the reasons of whose existence we cannot 
 know, we cannot understand. But such an admission, as 
 it is not a knowledge, must be a belief ; and thus it is that, 
 according to Aristotle, all our knowledge is in its root a 
 blind, a passive faith, in other words, a feeling. The same 
 doctrine was subsequently held by many 
 
 The PlatonUU. - ,, .. . , ., . , . 
 
 of the acutest thinkers of ancient times, 
 
 more especially among the Platonists ; and 
 of these Proclus is perhaps the philosopher in whose works 
 the doctrine is turned to the best account. In modern tiroes 
 we may trace it in silent operation, though not explicitly 
 proclaimed, or placed as the foundation of a system. It is 
 found spontaneously recognized even by those who might 
 be supposed the least likely to acknowledge 
 it without compulsion. Hume, for ex- 
 ample, against whose philosophy the doctrine of Common 
 Sense was systematically arrayed, himself pointed out the 
 weapons by which his adversaries subsequently assailed his 
 scepticism ; for he himself was possessed of too much philo- 
 sophical acuteness not to perceive that the root of knowledge 
 is belief. Thus, in his Inquiry, he says, " It seems evident 
 that men are carried by a natural instinct or prepossession 
 to repose faith in their .senses : and that, without any 
 reasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we 
 always sup|K>se an external universe which depends not on 
 our preception, but would exist though we and every sen- 
 sible creature were absent or annihilated. Even the animal
 
 66 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 creation are governed by a like opinion, and preserve this 
 belief, the belief of external objects, in all their thoughts, 
 
 designs, and actions This very table which we 
 
 see white, and which we feel hard, is believed to exist inde- 
 pendent of our perception, and to be something external to 
 our mind which perceives it." 
 
 But, on the other hand, the manifestation of this belief 
 
 necessarily involves knowledge ; for we. 
 
 The manifestation cannot believe without some consciousness 
 
 of Belief involves , . , / ,1 i i- / j 
 
 Knowledge or knowledge of the belief, and, conse- 
 
 quently, without some consciousnesss or 
 
 knowledge of the object of the belief. Now the immediate 
 consciousness or knowledge of an object is 
 
 Intuition, what. 
 
 called an intuition, an insight. It is 
 thus impossible to separate belief and knowledge, feeling 
 and intuition. They each suppose the other. 
 
 The consideration, however, of the relation of Belief and 
 
 Knowledge does not properly belong to 
 
 The question as to Logic, except in so far as it is necessary to 
 
 the relation of Belief e plain the nature o f Truth and Erron 
 and Knowledge pro- 
 perly metaphysical. It is altogether a metaphysical discussion ; 
 
 and one of the most difficult problems of 
 which Metaphysics attempts the solution. 
 
 The remainder of the paragraph contains the statement of 
 certain distinctions and the definition of certain terms, which 
 it was necessary to signalize, but which do not require any 
 commentary for their illustration. The only part that 
 might have required an explanation is the distinction of 
 Truth into Pure, or a priori, and into Empirical, or a pos- 
 teriori. The explanation of this division has been already 
 given more than once, but the following may now be added.
 
 TRUTH ITS CHARACTEB AND KINDS. 67 
 
 Experience presents to us only individual objects, and ae 
 these individual objects might or might 
 
 cai Truth" 1 not ^ ave come within our sphere of obser- 
 
 vation, our whole knowledge of and from 
 these objects might or might not exist ; it is merely acci- 
 dental or contingent. But as our knowledge of individual 
 objects affords the possibility, as supplying the whole con- 
 tents, of our generalized or abstracted notions, our general, 
 ized or abstracted notions are, consequently, not more 
 necessary to thought, than the particular observations out 
 of which they are constructed. For example, every horse 
 I have seen 1 might not have seen ; and I feel no more 
 necessity to think the reality of a horse than the reality of 
 a hippogriff; I can, therefore, easily annihilate in thought 
 the existence of the whole species. I can suppose it not to 
 be, not to have been. The case is the same with every 
 other notion which is mediately or immediately the datum 
 of observation. We can think away each and every part 
 of the knowledge we have derived from experience ; our 
 whole empirical knowledge is, therefore, a merely accidental 
 possession of the mind. 
 
 But there are notions in the mind of a very different 
 character, notions which we cannot but think, if we think 
 at all. These, therefore, are notions necessary to the mind ; 
 and, as necessary, they cannot be the product of experience. 
 For example, I perceive something to begin to be. I feel 
 no necessity to think that this thing must be at all, but 
 thinking it existent, I cannot but think that it has a cause. 
 The notion, or rather the judgment, of Cause and Effect, 
 U, therefore, necessary to the mind. If so, it cannot be 
 derived from experience.
 
 LECTURE II. MODIFIED STOICHEIOLOGY. 
 
 SECTION I. DOCTRINE OF' TRUTH AND ERROR. 
 
 SECTION II. ERROR, ITS CAUSES AND REMEDIES. 
 
 A. GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETiT. 
 
 I NOW proceed to the consideration of the opposite of Truth, 
 Error, and, on this subject, give you the following 
 paragraph : 
 
 1T II. Error is opposed to Truth ; and Error arises, 
 1, From the commutation of what is 
 
 Par. II. Error, Subjective and what is Objective in 
 
 its character and ,, i , o -n J.-L n T .- 
 
 sources thought ; 2 , From the Contradiction 
 
 of a supposed knowledge with its 
 Laws ; or, 3, From a want of Adequate Activity in 
 our Cognitive Faculties. 
 
 EiTor is to be discriminated from Ignorance and 
 from Illusion ; these, however, along with Arbitrary 
 Assumption, afford the most frequent occasions of error. 
 
 This paragraph consists of two parts, and these I shall 
 successively consider. The first is : " Error 
 
 Explication. . . - 
 
 is opposed to truth ; and Error arises, 
 1, From the commutation of what is subjective with what 
 is objective in thought ; 2, From the contradiction of a
 
 GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 69 
 
 supposed knowledge with its laws ; or, 3, From a want of 
 adequate activity in our cognitive faculties." 
 
 " In the first place, we have seen that Truth is the agree- 
 ment of a thought with its object. Now, 
 
 Krfor, what 
 
 as Error is the opposite of truth, Error 
 must necessarily consist in a want of this agreement. In 
 the second place, it has been shown that the criterion or 
 standard of truth is the necessity founded on the laws of 
 our cognitive faculties ; and from this it follows that the 
 essential character of error must be, either that it is not 
 founded on these laws, or that it is repugnant to them. But 
 these two alternatives may be viewed as only one j for inas- 
 much as, in the former case, the judgment remains unde- 
 cided, and can make no pretence to certainty, it may be 
 thrown out of account no less than in the latter, where, as 
 positively contradictory of the laws of knowledge, it is 
 necessarily false. Of these statements the first, that is, the 
 jion-agreement of a notion with its object, 
 is error viewed on its material side ; and 
 as a notion is the common product, the joint result afforded 
 by the reciprocal action of object and subject, it is evident 
 that whatever the notion contains not correspondent to the 
 object, must be a contribution by the thinking subject alone, 
 and we are thus warranted in saying that Material Error 
 consists in the commuting of what is subjective with what 
 is objective in thought ; in other words, in mistaking an 
 ideal illusion for a real representation. The second of these 
 statements, that is, the incongruence of 
 the supposed cognition with the laws of 
 knowledge, is error viewed on its formal side. Now here 
 the question at once presents itself, How can an act of
 
 70 . MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 cognition contradict its own laws ? The answer is that it 
 cannot ; and error, when more closely 
 Arises from the scrutinized, is found not so much to con- 
 want of adequate ac- gist ^ the contradictory activity of our 
 
 tivity of the Cogni- 
 tive Faculties.- cognitive faculties as in their want of 
 
 activity. And this may be in consequence 
 of one or other of two causes. For it may arise from some 
 ether mental power, the will, for example, superseding, 
 taking the place of, the defective cognition, or, by its in- 
 tenser force, turning it aside and leading it to a false result \ 
 or it may arise from some want of relative perfection in the 
 object, so that the cognitive faculty is not determined by it 
 to the requisite degree of action. 
 
 " What is actually thought, cannot but be correctly 
 thought. Error first commences when thinking is remitted, 
 and can in fact only gain admission in virtue of the truth 
 which it contains ; every error is a perverted truth. Hence 
 Descartes is justified in the establishment of the principle, 
 that we would never admit the false for the true, if we 
 would only give assent to what we clearly and distinctly 
 apprehend. ' NiMl nos unquam falsum pro vero admissuros, 
 si tantum iis assensum prcebearmts, quce dare et distincte 
 percipimus.' " In this view the saying of the Roman poet 
 
 "Nam neque dectpitur ratio, nee decipit unquam," 
 
 is no longer a paradox ; for the condition of error is not 
 the activity of intelligence, but its inactivity. 
 
 So much for the first part of the paragraph. The 
 
 second is " Error is to be discriminated 
 
 Error discriminated f r0 m Ignorance and from Illusion, which, 
 
 from Ignorance and , .,, . , ., 
 
 illusion. however, along with Arbitrary Assump- 
 
 tion, afford the usual occasions of Error."
 
 GENERAL CIBCUMSTAHCES SOCIETY. 71 
 
 " Ignorance is a mere negation, a mere not-knowledge ; 
 whereas in error there lies a positive pre- 
 tence to knowledge. Hence a representa- 
 tion, be it imperfect, be it even without any correspondent 
 objective reality, is not in itself an error. The imagina- 
 tion of a hippogriff is not in itself false; the Orlando 
 Furioso is not a tissue of errors. Error only arises when 
 we attribute to the creations of our minds some real 
 object, by an assertory judgment ; we do not err and deceive 
 either ourselves or others, when we hold and enounce a sub- 
 jective or problematic supposition only for what it is. 
 Ignorance, not knowledge, however, leads to error, when 
 we either regard the unknown as non-existent, or when we 
 falsely fill it up. The latter is, however, as mucn the result 
 of WiJl, of arbitrary assumption, as of ignorance ; and 
 frequently, it is the result of both together. In general, 
 the will has no inconsiderable share in the activity by which 
 knowledge is realized. The will has not immediately an 
 influence on our judgment, but mediately it has. Attention 
 is an act of volition, and attention furnishes to the under- 
 standing the elements of its decision. The will determines 
 whether we shall carry on our investigations, or break them 
 off, content with the first apparent probability ; and whether 
 we shall apply our observations to all, or, only partially, to 
 certain, momenta of determination. 
 
 " The occasions of Error which lie in those qualities of 
 Presentation, Representation, and Thought 
 
 lUurion. 
 
 arising from the conditions and influences 
 of the thinking subject itself, are called Illusions. But the 
 existence of illusion does not necessarily imply the existence 
 of error. Illusion becomes error only when we attribute to 
 it objective truth; whereas illusion is no error when we
 
 72 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 regard the fallacious appearance as a mere subjective affec- 
 tion. In the jaundice, we see everything tinged with 
 yellow, in consequence of the suffusion of the eye with bile. 
 In this case, the yellow vision is illusion ; and it would 
 become error, were we to suppose that the objects we per- 
 ceive were really so colored. All the powers which co- 
 operate to the formation of our judgments may become the 
 sources of illusion, and, consequently, the 
 
 Its sources. /f 
 
 occasions of error. The Senses, the Pre- 
 sentative Faculties, External and Internal, the Represen- 
 tative, the Retentive, the Reproductive, and the Elaborative 
 Faculties, are immediate, the Feelings and the Desires are 
 mediate, sources of illusion. To these must be added the 
 Faculty of Signs, in all its actual manifestations in language. 
 Hence we speak of sensible, psychological, moral, and sym- 
 bolical, illusion. In all these relations the causes of illusion 
 are partly general, partly particular; and though they 
 proximately manifest themselves in some one or other of 
 these forms, they may ultimately be found contained in the 
 circumstances by which the mental character of the indi- 
 vidual is conformed. Taking, therefore, a general view of 
 all the possible Sources of Error, I think they may be re- 
 duced to the following classes, which, as they constitute the 
 heads and determine the order of the ensuing discussion, I 
 shall comprise in the following paragraph, with which 
 commences the consideration of the Second Chapter of 
 Modified Logic. Before, however, proceeding to consider 
 these several classes in their order, I may observe that 
 Bacon's ciassifica- Bacon is the first philosopher who attempt- 
 tion of the sources ed a systematic enumeration of the various 
 
 sources of error ; and his quaint classifi- 
 cation of these, under the significant name of idols, into the
 
 GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 73 
 
 four genera of Idols of the Tribe (idola tribus), Idols of 
 the Den (idola spccus), Idols of the Forum (idola fori), 
 which may mean either the market-place, the bar, or the 
 place of public assembly, and Idols of the Theatre (idola 
 tfteatri), he thus briefly characterizes. 
 
 1T III. The Causes and Occasions of Error are com- 
 prehended in one or other of the four 
 ror '~ following classes. For they are found 
 either, 1, In the General Circum- 
 stances which modify the intellectual character of the 
 individual ; or, 2, In the Constitution, Habits, and 
 Reciprocal Relations of his powers of Cognition, 
 Feeling, and Desire ; or, 3, In the Language which 
 he employs, as an Instrument of Thought and a 
 Medium of Communication : or, 4, In the nature of the 
 Objects themselves, about which his knowledge is 
 conversant. 
 
 11 IV. Under the General Circumstances whicli, 
 
 modify the character of the individual 
 
 .rliolr^mi..^."" are comprehended, 1, The particular 
 
 which modify the degree of Cultivation to which his 
 
 detail.' lh * in " nation has attained ; for ite rudeness, 
 ihe partiality of its civilization, and 
 its over-refinement are all manifold occasions of error ; 
 and this cultivation is expressed not merely in the 
 state of the arts and sciences, but. in the degree of its 
 religious, political, and social advancement ; 2, The 
 Stricter Associations, in so far as these tend to limit 
 the freedom of thought, ami to give it a one-sided 
 direction ; such are Schools, Sects, Orders, Exclusive 
 Societies, Corporations, Castes, etc. 
 In tho commencement of the Coursr, I had occasion to
 
 74 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 allude to the tendency there is in man to assimilate in 
 opinions and habits of thought to those 
 Explication. Man "with whom he lives. Man is by ni1mrft, 
 by nature social, and no t merely by accidental necessity, a 
 influenced by the 7 , . i tar 1 ' " i ' *' v ' 
 
 opinions of his fei- social bein &- For onI 7 m society does 
 lows. he find the conditions which his different 
 
 faculties require for their due development 
 and application. But^ society, in all its forms and degrees, from 
 a family to a State, ia only possible under the condition of a 
 certain harmony of sentiment among its members ; and as 
 man is by nature destined to a social existence, he is by 
 nature determined to that analogy of thought and feeling 
 which society sxipposes, and out of which society springs. 
 There is thus in every association, great and small, a certain 
 gravitation of opinions towards a common centre. As in 
 our natural body every part has a necessary sympathy with 
 every other, and all together form, by their harmonious eon- 
 spiration, a healthy whole ; so, in the social body, there is 
 always a strong predisposition in each of its members to act 
 and think in unison with the rest This universal sympathy 
 or fellow-feeling is the principle of the different spirit domi- 
 nant in different ages, countries, ranks, sexes, and periods 
 of life. It is the cause why fashions, why political and 
 religious enthusiasm, why moral example either for good or 
 evil, spread so rapidly and exert so powerful an influence. 
 As Jmen are naturally prone to. imitate others,, they, conse- 
 quently, regard as important or insignificant, as honorable 
 or disgraceful, as true or false, as good or bad, what those 
 around them consider in the same light. 
 
 Of the various testimonies I formerly quoted, of the 
 
 strong assimilating influence of man on 
 
 asca qu ( on man an( j o f ^.^ p Ower o f custom, to make 
 
 the power of custom. 
 
 that appear true, natural, and neceesary,
 
 GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 75 
 
 which in reality is false, unnatural, and only accidentally 
 suitable, I shall only adduce that of Pascal. " In the just 
 and the unjust," says he, "we find hardly any thing wbiciulaes 
 Hot change its character in changing its climate. Three 
 degrees of an elevation of the pole reverses the whole of 
 jurisprudence. A_ meridian is decisive of truth, and a 
 fr\v years, of possession. Fundamental laws change. 
 Right has its epochs. A pleasant juatice which, a river or 
 a mountain limits ! Truth on this side the Pyrenees, error 
 on the other ! " It is the remark of an ingenious philoso- 
 ' that if we take a survef -of-the universe, all nations 
 
 be found admiring only the reflection of their awn 
 (|uuliti'-s ; und contemning in others whatever is contrary to 
 what they are accustomed to meet with among themselves. 
 Here is the Englishman accusing the French of frivolity ; 
 and here the Frenchman reproaching the Englishman with 
 selfishness and brutality. Here is the Arab persuaded of 
 the infallibility of his Caliph, and deriding the Tartar who 
 believes in the immortality of the Grand Lama. In every 
 nation we find the same congratulation of their own wisdom, 
 and the name contempt of that of their neighbors. 
 
 " Were there a sage sent down to earth from heaven, who 
 regulated his conduct by the dictates of pure reason alone, 
 this sage would be universally regarded as a fool. He 
 would be, as Socrates says, like a physician accused by the 
 pastry -cooks, before a tribunal of children, of prohibiting 
 tho eating of tarts and cheese-cakes ; a crime undoubtedly 
 of the highest magnitude in the eyes of his judges. In 
 vain would this sage support his opinions by the clearest 
 arguments, the most irrefragable demonstrations ; the 
 whole world would be for him like the nation of hunch-
 
 76 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 backs, among whom, as the Indian fabulists relate, there 
 once upon a time appeared a god, young, beautiful, and 
 of consummate symmetry. This god, they add, entered the 
 capital ; he was there forthwith surrounded by a crowd of 
 natives; his figure appeared to them extraordinary ; laughter, 
 hooting, and taunts manifested their astonishment, and they 
 were about to carry their outrages still further, had not 
 one of the inhabitants (who had undoubtedly seen other 
 men), in order to snatch him from the danger, suddenly 
 cried out ' My friends ! my friends ! "What are we going 
 to do ? Let us not insult this miserable monstrosity. If 
 heaven has bestowed on us the general gift of beauty, if it 
 has adorned our backs with a mount of flesh, let us with 
 pious gratitude repair to the temple and render our ac- 
 knowledgement to the immortal gods.' " This fable is the 
 history of human vanity. Every nation admires its own 
 defects, and contemns the opposite qualities in its neighbors. 
 To succeed in a country, one must be a bearer of the national 
 v hump of the people among whom he sojourns. 
 
 There are few philosophers who undertake to make their 
 
 countrymen aware of the ridiculous figure 
 
 The art of doubt- they cut in the eye of reason ; and still 
 
 ing well difficult to 
 
 teach and to learn. fewer the nations who are able to pront by 
 the advice. All are so punctiliously at- 
 tached to the interests of their vanity, that none obtain in 
 any country the name of wise, except those who are fools of 
 the common folly. There is no opinion too absurd not to 
 find nations ready to believe it, and individuals prompt to 
 be its executioners or its martyrs. Hence it is that the 
 philosopher declared, that if he held all truths shut up 
 within his hand, he would take especial care not to show
 
 GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 77 
 
 them to his fellow -men. In fact, if the discovery of a single 
 truth dragged Galileo to the prison, to what punishment 
 would he not be doomed who should discover all ? Among 
 those who now ridicule the folly of the human intellect, and 
 are indignant at the persecution of Galileo, there are few 
 who would not, in the age of that philosopher, have 
 clamored for his death. They would then have been imbued 
 with different opinions ; and opinions not more passively 
 adopted than those which they at present vaunt as liberal 
 and enlightened. To learn to doubt of our opinions, it is 
 sufficient to examine the powers of the human intellect, to 
 survey the circumstances by which it is affected, and to 
 study the history of human follies. Yet in modern Europe 
 six centuries elapsed from the foundation of Universities 
 until the appearance of that extraordinary man, I mean 
 Descart<, whom his age first persecuted, and then almost 
 worshipped as a demi-god, for initiating men in the art of 
 doubting, of doubting well, a lesson at which, however, 
 both their skepticism and credulity show that, after two 
 centuries, they are still but awkward scholars. Socrates 
 was wont to say, " All that I know is that I know 
 nothing." In our age it would seem that men know 
 everything except what Socrates knew. Our errors 
 would not be so frequent were we less ignorant ; and 
 our ignorance more curable, did we not believe ourselves 
 to be all-wise. 
 
 Thus it is that the influence of Society, both in its general 
 form of a State or Nation, and in its particular forms of 
 Schools, Sects, etc., determines a multitude of opinions in 
 its member*, which, as they are passively received, so they 
 are often altogether erroneous.
 
 78 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 Among the more general and influential of these there are 
 two, which, though apparently contrary,are, 
 
 Two general forms how ^ j Ht founded on the 
 
 of the influence of *' 
 
 example. same incapacity of independent thought, 
 
 i. Prejudice in fa- on the game i nnuenc e of example I 
 
 vor of the Old. . . 
 
 mean the excessive admiration of the Old, 
 and the excessive admiration of the New. The former of 
 these prejudices under which may be reduced the prejudice 
 in favor of Authority, was at one time prevalent to an 
 extent of which it is difficult for us to form a conception. 
 This prejudice is prepared by the very education not only 
 which we do, but which we all must re- 
 ceive. The child necessarily learns every- 
 . thing at first on credit, he believes upon 
 authority. But when the rule of authority is once estab- 
 lished, the habit of passive acquiescence and belief is formed, 
 and, once formed, it is not again always easily thrown off. 
 When the child has grown up to an age in which he might 
 employ his own reason, he has acquired a large stock of 
 ideas ; but who can calculate the number of errors which 
 this stock contains ? and by what means is he able to dis- 
 criminate the true from the false 1 His mind has been 
 formed to obedience and uninquiry ; he possesses no cri- 
 terion by which to judge ; it is painful to suspect what has 
 been long venerated, and it is felt even as a kind of personal 
 mutilation to tear up what has become irradicated in his 
 intellectual and moral being. Ponere difficile est quce pla- 
 cuere diu. The adult does not, therefore, often judge for 
 himself more than the child ; and the tyranny of authority 
 and foregone opinion continues to exert a sway during the 
 whole course of his life. In our infancy and childhood the 
 credit accorded to our parents and instructors is implicit j
 
 GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 79 
 
 and if what we have learned from them be confirmed by 
 what we hear from others, the opinions thus recommended 
 become at length stamped in almost indelible characters 
 upon the uiiud. This is the cause why uioii so rarely 
 the opinions which vulgarly pass current; and 
 
 why what comes as new is by so many, for its very novelty, 
 
 f.iis.-. And ln-nor il is, as already noticed, that 
 
 truth is as it were geographically and politically distributed ; 
 what is truth on one side of a boundary being error and 
 absurdity on the other. What has now been said of the 
 influence of society at large, is true also of the lesser 
 societies which it contains, all of which impose with a 
 stronger or feebler, a wider or more contracted, authority, 
 certain received opinions upon the faith of the members. 
 Hence it is that whatever has once obtained a recognition 
 in any society, large or small, is not rejected when the 
 reasons on which it was originally admitted have been 
 proved erroneous. It continues, even for the reason that 
 it is old and has been accepted, to be accepted still ; and the 
 title which was originally defective, becomes valid by con- 
 tinuance and prescription, 
 
 But opposed to this cause of error, from the prejudice in 
 
 favor of the Old, there is the other, directly 
 
 n **" the reverse, the nreiudice in favor of the 
 
 tor of the New. * * . .g 
 
 yuw. This prejudice maybc^ in .parl at 
 least, the result of sympathy and fellow-feeling. This is the 
 
 ..!;. . ' .'. ".'.:: . :. v. . . . . r :, i~. ,; i.ju-y QflCC 
 
 QhtaJB_a^ certain number of yp^c*-**, nftgp B PT n ^_ w ' f * 1 n 
 rapidity anci to an extent, which^ after their futility has 
 
 y fifown, canoolj ' 
 
 pfrqf ft M ^ intAJ!<W;uai coniiiginn. But the principal 
 cause of the pnjudi'.-tj In fsvor of novelty lies in the Passions,
 
 cl> MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 and the consideration of these does not belong to the class 
 of causes with which we are at present occupied. 
 
 Connected with and composed of both these prejudices, 
 that in favor of the old and that in favor 
 
 Prejudice of Learn- /. ,, ,, ,, . ,. ,, 
 
 ed Authority. of t l ie new, there is the prejudice of 
 
 Learned Authority ; for this is usually 
 associated with the prejudices of Schools and Sects. As 
 often as men have appeared, who, by the force of their 
 genius, have opened up new views of science, and thus con- 
 tributed to the progress of htirnan intellect, so often have 
 they, likewise, afforded the occasion of checking its advance- 
 ment, and of turning it from the straight path of improve- 
 ment. Not that this result is to be imputed as a reproach 
 to them, but simply because it is of the nature of man to 
 be so affected. The views which influenced these men of 
 genius, and which, consequently, lie at the foundation of 
 their works, are rarely comprehended in their totality by 
 those who have the names of these authors most frequently 
 in their mouths. The many do not concern themselves to 
 seize the ideal which a philosopher contemplated, and of 
 which his actual works are only the imperfect representa- 
 tions ; they appropriate to themselves only some of his 
 detached apothegms and propositions, and of these com- 
 pound, as they best can, a sort of system suited to their 
 understanding, and which they employ as a talisman in 
 their controversies with others. As their reason is thus a 
 captive to authority, and, therefore, unable to exert its 
 native freedom, they, consequently, catch up the true and 
 the false without discrimination, and remain always at the 
 point of progress where they had been placed by their 
 leaders. In their hands a system of living truths becomes a
 
 GEXEBAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 81 
 
 mere petrified organism ; and they require that the whole 
 science shall become as dead and as cold as their own idol. 
 Such was Plato's doctrine in the hands of the Platonists ; 
 such was Aristotle's philosophy in the hands of the School- 
 men ; and the history of modern systems affords equally the 
 same result. 
 
 So much for the first genus into which the Sources of 
 Error are divided.
 
 LECTURE III. MODIFIED STOICHEIOLOGY. 
 
 SECTION II. ERROR -ITS CAUSES AND 
 REMEDIES. 
 
 A. GENERAL CIRCUMSTANCES SOCIETY. 
 
 B. AS IN POWERS OF COGNITION, FEELING, AND 
 DESIRE. 
 
 I. AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY SLOTH HOPE AND FEAR- 
 SELF-LOVE. 
 
 IN our last Lecture, we entered on the consideration of the 
 various sources of Error. These, I stated, 
 
 Recapitulation. . 
 
 may be conveniently reduced to four heads, 
 and consist, 1, In the General Circumstances which modify 
 the intellectual character of the individual ; 2, In the Con- 
 stitution, Habits, and Reciprocal Relations of his powers of 
 Cognition, Feeling, and Desire ; 3, In the language which 
 he employs as an Instrument of Thought and a Medium of 
 Communication ; and, 4, In the nature of the Objects 
 themselves about which his knowledge is conversant. 
 
 Of these, I then gave you a general view of the nature of 
 those occasions of Error, which originate in the circum- 
 stances under the influence of which the character and 
 opinions of man are determined for him as a member of 
 society. Under this head I stated, that, as man is destined 
 by his Creator to fulfil the end of his existence in society, 
 be is wisely furnished with a disposition to imitate those
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 83 
 
 among whom his lot is cast, and thus conform himself to 
 whatever section of human society he may by birth belong, 
 or of which he may afterwards become a "member. The 
 education we receive, nay the very possibility of receiving 
 education at all, supposes to a certain extent the passive 
 infusion of foreign and traditionary opinions. For as man 
 is compelled to think much earlier than he is able to think 
 for himself, all education necessarily imposes on him many 
 opinions which, whether in themselves true or false, are, in 
 reference to the recipient, only prejudices-; and it is even 
 only a small number of mankind who at a later period are 
 able to bring these obtruded opinions to the test of reason, 
 and by a free exercise of their own intelligence to reject 
 them if found false, or to acknowledge them if proved true. 
 But while the mass of mankind thus remain, during their 
 whole lives, only the creatures of the accidental circum- 
 stances which have concurred to form for them their habits 
 and beliefs ; the few who are at last able to form opinions 
 for themselves, are still dependent, in a great measure, on 
 the unreasoning judgment of the many. Public opinion, 
 hereditary custom, despotically impose on us the capricious 
 laws of propriety and manners. The individual may pos- 
 sibly, in matters of science, emancipate himself from their 
 servitude ; in the affairs of life he must quietly submit him- 
 self to the yoke. The only freedom he can here prudently 
 manifest, is to resign himself with u consciousness that he 
 in a slave not to reason but to conventional accident. And 
 while, he conforms himself to the usages of his own society, 
 he will be tolerant to those of others. In this rcs|>ect his 
 inaiim will be that of the Scythian prince: "With you 
 such may be the custom with us it is different."
 
 84 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 So much for the general nature of the influence to which 
 we are exposed from the circumstances 
 
 Means by which tlie . . 
 
 influence of society, of Society ; it now remains to say what 
 as a source of error, are the means by which this influence, as 
 
 may be counteracted. f , , 
 
 a source of error, may be counteracted. 
 
 It has been seen that, in consequence of the manner in 
 
 which our opinions are formed for us by 
 
 Necessary to insti- the accidents of society, our imposed and 
 
 tute a critical exami- supposed knowledge is a confused medley 
 
 nation of the contents * * t J 
 
 of our knowledge. of truths and errors. Here it is evidently 
 necessary to institute a critical examina- 
 tion of the contents of this knowledge. Descartes proposes 
 that, in order to discriminate, among our prsjudiced 
 opinions, the truths from the errors, we ought to commence 
 by doubting all. This has exposed him to much obloquy and 
 clamor, but most unjustly. The doctrine of Descartes has 
 nothing skeptical or offensive ; for he only 
 
 Descartes. his . T , ( i i 
 
 maintains that it behooves us to examine 
 
 precept. 
 
 all that has been inculcated on us from in- 
 fancy, and under the masters to whose authority we have 
 been subjected, with the same attention and circumspection 
 which we accord to dubious questions. In fact there is 
 nothing in the precept of Descartes, which had not been 
 previously enjoined by other philosophers. Of these I for- 
 merly quoted to you several, and among others the remark- 
 able testimonies of Aristotle, St. Axigustin, and Lord Bacon. 
 But although there be nothing reprehensible in the pre- 
 cept of Descartes, as enounced by him, it 
 Conditions which j s o f i ess practical utility in consequence 
 
 modify its applica- . 
 
 tion ot no account being taken of the circum- 
 
 stances which condition and modify its 
 application. For, in the first place, the judgments to be
 
 AFFECTION'S PRECIPITANT. 85 
 
 examined ought not to be taken at random, but selected on 
 a principle, and arranged in due order and dependence. But 
 this requires no ordinary ability, and the distribation of 
 things into their proper classes is one of the last and most 
 difficult fruits of philosophy. In the second place, there are 
 among our prejudices, or pretended cognitions, a great many 
 hasty conclusions, the investigation of which requires much 
 profound thought, skill, and acquired knowledge. Now 
 from both of these considerations, it is evident that to com- 
 mence philosophy by such a review, it is necessary for a 
 man to be a philosopher before he can attempt to become 
 one. The precept of Descartes is, therefore, either un- 
 reasonable, or it is too unconditionally expressed. And this 
 latter alternative is true. 
 
 "What can be rationally required of the student of philo- 
 sophy, is not a preliminary and absolute, 
 A gradual and pro- but a gradual and progressive abrogation, 
 rf prejudieJXthl't of prejudices. It can only be required of 
 can be required of him, that, when, in the course of his study 
 
 the student of pbilo- f ,., , , ... ... 
 
 h of philosophy, he meets with a proposition 
 
 which has not been already sufficiently 
 sifted, (whether it has been elaborated as a principle or 
 admitted as a conclusion), he should pause, discuss it with 
 out prepossession, and lay aside for future consideration all 
 that has not been subjected to a searching scrutiny. The 
 precept of Descartes, when rightly explained, corresponds 
 to that of St. Paul : " If any man arnonj* you seemeth to be 
 wise in this world, let him become a fool, that be may be 
 wise ;" that is, let him not rely more en the opinions in 
 which he has been brought up, and in favor of which he 
 and those around him are prejudiced, than on so many 
 visions of imagination , and let him examine them with the
 
 86 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 same circumspection as if he were assured that they contain 
 some truth among much falsehood and many extravagances. 
 Proceeding now to the second class of the Sources of 
 Error, which are found in the Mind itself, I shall commence 
 with the following paragraph : 
 
 1T V. The Sources of Error which arise from the 
 
 Constitution, Habits, and Reciprocal 
 
 Par. v. ii. Source Relations of the powers of Cognition, 
 
 of Error arising . 
 
 from the powers of Feeling, and Desire, may be Sub- 
 Cognition, Feeling, divided into two kinds. The first of 
 and Desire, of two ,, . , . ,, , 
 
 .. , these consists in the undue prepon- 
 
 derance of the Affective Elements of 
 mind (the Desires and Feelings) over the Cognitive ; 
 the second, in the weakness or inordinate strength of 
 some one or other of the Cognitive Faculties themselves. 
 
 Affection is that state of mind in which the Feelings and 
 
 Desires exert an influence not under the 
 
 Explication. control of reason ; in other words, a ten- 
 
 I. Preponderance de b which the j nte nect is impeded in 
 
 of Affection over 
 
 Cognition. its endeavor to think an obj ect as that object 
 
 really is, and compelled to think it in con- 
 formity with some view prescribed by the passion or private 
 interest of the subject thinking. 
 
 The human mind, when unruffled by passion, may be 
 compared to a calm sea. A calm sea is a 
 
 Influence of Passion > i i ji 111 
 
 clear mirror, in which the sun and clouds, 
 
 on the Mind. 
 
 in which the forms of heaven and earth, 
 are reflected back precisely as they are presented. But let 
 a wind arise, and the smooth, clear surface of the water is 
 lifted into billows and agitated into foam. It 110 more re- 
 flects the sun and clouds, the forms of heaven and earth, or 
 it reflects them only as distorted and broken images. In
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 87 
 
 like manner, the tranquil mind receives and reflects the 
 
 world* without as it truly is ; but let the wind of passion 
 
 blow, and every object is represented, not as it exists, but 
 
 in the colors and aspects and partial phases 
 
 Boethius quoted. . ..'.'M i ^i. i_- J '*. 
 
 in which it pleases the subject to regard it. 
 The state of passion and its influence on the Cognitive 
 Faculties are truly pictured by Boe thins : 
 
 " Nvbibus atria Parque aerenia 
 
 Condita nullum Undo, diebua, 
 
 Fundere poaaunt Mox reaoluto 
 
 Sidera lumen. Sordida cceno, 
 
 Si mare volvena Visibus obstat. 
 
 Turbidus auster 
 
 Misctat ceatum, TV, quoque si via 
 
 Vitrea dudum, Lumine claro 
 
 Cernere verum, Spemque fugato, 
 
 Tramite recto Nee dolor adeit, 
 
 Carpere caliem : Nvbila mewa eat, 
 
 Oandia pelle, Vinctaque frenia, 
 
 Pelle timorem, Hoc ubi regnant. " 
 
 Every error consists in this, that we take something for 
 non-existent, because we have not become 
 aware of its existence, and that, in place 
 
 Probable Butoaing. 
 
 of this existent something, we fill up the 
 premises of a probable reasoning with something else. 
 
 I have here limited the possibility of error to Probable 
 Reasoning, for, in Intuition and Demonstration, there is but 
 little Possibility of important error. Hobbes indeed asserts 
 that had it been contrary to the interest of those in author- 
 ity, that the three angles of a triangle should be equal to 
 two right angles, this truth would have been long ago pro- 
 scribed as heresy, or as high treason. This may be an 
 ingenious illustration of the blind tendency of the passions to 
 subjugate intelligence ; but we should take it for more than
 
 88 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 was intended by its author, were we to take it as morje than 
 an ingenious exaggeration. Limiting, therefore, error to 
 probable inference (and this constitutes, with the exception 
 of a comparatively small department, the whole domain of 
 human reasoning), we have to inquire, How do the Passions 
 influence us to the assumption of false premises? To 
 estimate the amount of probability for or against a given 
 proposition, requires a tranquil, an unbiassed, a com- 
 prehensive consideration, in order to take all the relative 
 elements of judgment into due account. But this requisite 
 state of mind is disturbed when any interest, any wish, is 
 allowed to interfere. 
 
 IT VI. The disturbing Passions may be reduced to 
 
 four : Precipitancy, Sloth. Hope and 
 Par. VI. The Pas- 
 sions, as sources of * ear, belf-lo V6. 
 
 Error, reduced to j ^ restless anxiety for a decision 
 
 four. 
 
 begets impatience, which decides be- 
 fore the preliminary inquiry is concluded. This is 
 precipitancy. 
 
 2, The same result is the effect of Sloth, which 
 dreams on in conformity to custom, without subjecting 
 its beliefs to the test of active observation. 
 
 3, The restlessness of Hope or Fear impedes obser- 
 vation, distracts attention, or forces it only on what 
 interests the passion ; the sanguine looking on only 
 what harmonizes with his hopes, the diffident only on 
 what accords with his fears. 
 
 4, Self-love perverts our estimate of probability by 
 causing us to rate the grounds of judgment, not 
 according to their real influence on the truth of the 
 decision, but according to their bearing on our personal 
 interests therein.
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 89 
 
 In regard to Impatience or Precipitation, "all is the 
 cause of this which determines our choice 
 on one side rather than another. An ima- 
 
 1. Precipitancy. 
 
 gination excites pleasure, and because it 
 excites pleasure we yield ourselves up to it. We suppose, 
 for example, that we are all that we ought to be, and why ? 
 Because this supposition gives us pleasure. This, in some 
 dispositions, is one of the greatest obstacles to improvement ; 
 for he who entertains it, thinks there is no necessity to 
 labor to become what he is already. "I believe," says 
 
 Seneca, " that many had it in their power 
 
 to have attained to wisdom, had they not 
 been impeded by the belief that wisdom they had already 
 attained. ' Multos puto ad sapientiam poluisse pervenire, 
 
 nisi putassent se pervenisse'" Erasmus 
 
 Enisniiu. 
 
 gives the following as the principal advice 
 to a young votary of learning in the conduct of his studies : 
 " To read the most learned books, to converse with the 
 most learned men ; but, above all, never to conceit that he 
 himself was learned." 
 
 " From the same cause, men flatter themselves with the 
 
 hope of dying old, although few attain to 
 
 Illustrations. J 
 
 longevity. The less probable tl>e event, 
 the more certain are they of its occurrence ; and why 1 
 Because the imagination of it is agreeable. ' Dccrejriti senes 
 paucorum annorum accessionem votis mendicant ; minores 
 
 natu seipsoa esse fin<junt ; inendacio aibi 
 From Seneca. 1 1 . F i / ? i 
 
 Ouindinntur ; et krm hbenter fallunt, (junnt 
 
 tifala una decipianl.' " *' Preachers," snys Montaigne, u are 
 
 aware that the emotion which arises 
 !:! . 
 
 during their sermons animates themselves 
 
 to belief, and wo are conscious that when roused to angor 
 we apply ourselves more intently to the defence of our
 
 90 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 thesis, and embrace it with greater vehemence and appro- 
 bation, than we did when our mind was cool and unruffled. 
 You simply state your case to an advocate ; he replies with 
 hesitation and doubt ; you are aware that it is indifferent 
 to him whether he undertakes the defence of the one side 
 or of the other ; but have you once fee'd him well to take 
 your case in hand ; he begins to feel an interest in it ; his 
 will is animated. His reason and his science become also 
 animated in proportion. Your case presents itself to his 
 understanding as a manifest and indubitable truth ; he now 
 sees it in a wholly different light, and really believes that 
 you have law and justice on your side." It is proper to 
 observe that Montaigne was himself a lawyer, he had been 
 a counsellor of the Parliament of Bordeaux. 
 
 It might seem that Precipitate Dogmatism and an incli- 
 nation to Skepticism were opposite cha- 
 Precipitate Dogma- ra cters of mind. They are, however, closely 
 
 tism and Skepticism, n- j / i -, f , i 
 
 phases of the same alhed > lf not merel 7 P lla S6S of the Same 
 
 disposition. disposition. This is indeed confessed by 
 
 the Skeptic Montaigne : " The most un- 
 easy condition for me is to be kept in suspense on urgent 
 occasions, and to be agitated between fear and hope. Deli- 
 beration, even in things of lightest moment, is very trouble- 
 some to me ; and I find my mind more put to it, to undergo 
 the various tumbling and tossing of doubt and consultation, 
 than to set up its rest, and to acquiesce in whatever shall 
 happen, after the die is thrown. Few passions break my 
 sleep ; but of deliberations, the least disturbs me." 
 
 Precipitation is no incurable disease. There is for it 
 one sure and simple remedy, if properly 
 
 Remedy for Preci- v j TJ. i i j. 
 
 applied. It is only required, to speak 
 
 with Confucius, manfully to restrain the 
 
 wild horse of precipitancy by the curb of consideration,
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 91 
 
 to weigh the reasons of decision, each and all, in the balance 
 of cool investigation, not to allow ourselves to decide until 
 a clear consciousness has declared these reasons to be true, 
 to be sufficient ; and, finally, to throw out of account the 
 suffrages of self-love, of prepossession, of passion, and to 
 admit only those of reflection, of experience, and of evi- 
 dence. This remedy is certain and effectual. In theory 
 it is satisfactory, but its practical application requires a 
 moral resolution, for the acquisition of which no precept 
 can be given. 
 
 In the second place, " Sloth is likewise a cause of precipi- 
 tation, and it deserves the more attention as it is a cause of 
 error extremely frequent, and one of which we are ourselves 
 less aware, and which is less notorious to 
 
 2. Sloth. , 
 
 others. We feel it fatiguing to continue 
 an investigation, therefore we do not pursue it ; but as it is 
 mortifying to think that we have labored in vain, we easily 
 admit the flattering illusion that we have succeeded. By 
 the influence of this disposition it often happens, that, after 
 having rejected what first presented itself, after having 
 rejected a second time and a third time what subsequently 
 turned up, because not sufficiently applicable or certain, we 
 get tired of the investigation, and perhaps put up with the 
 fourth suggestion, which is not better, haply even worse, 
 than the preceding ; and this simply because it has come 
 into the mind when more exhausted and less scrupulous than 
 it was at the commencement." " The volition of that man," 
 
 says Seneca, " ia often frustrated, who 
 Bwec* quoted. 
 
 undertakes not what is easy, but who 
 
 wishes what he undertakes to be easy. As often as you 
 attempt anything, compare together yourself, the end which 
 you propose, and the means by which it is to be accomplished.
 
 92 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 For the repentance of an unfinished work will make you rash. 
 
 And here it is of consequence whether a man be of a fervid 
 
 or of a cold, of an aspiring or of a humble, disposition." 
 
 To remedy this failing it is necessary, in conformity with 
 
 this advice of vSeneca, to consult our forces, 
 
 Its remedy. 
 
 and the time we can afford, and the difti- 
 cxilty of the subjects on which we enter. We ought to 
 labor only at intervals, to avoid the tedium and disquiet 
 consequent on unremitted application ; and to adjourn 
 the consideration of any thought which may please us 
 vehemently at the moment, until the prepossession in its 
 favor has subsided Avith the animation which gave it birth. 
 The two Causes of premature judgment the affections of 
 
 Impatience and Sloth being considered, 
 
 3. Hope and Fear. J 
 
 I pass on to the third principle of Passion, 
 by which the intellect is turned aside from the path of 
 truth, I mean the disturbing influence of Hope and Fear. 
 These passions, though reciprocally contrary, determine a 
 similar effect upon the deliberations of the Understanding, 
 and are equally unfavorable for the interest of truth. In 
 forming a just conclusion upon a question of probable 
 reasoning, that is, where the grounds of decision are not 
 few, palpable, and of determinate effect, and such ques- 
 tions may be said to be those alone on which differences of 
 opinion may arise, and are, consequently, those alone which 
 require for their solution any high degree of observation and 
 ingenuity, in such questions hope and fear exert a very 
 strong and a very unfavorable influence. In these questions 
 it is requisite, in the first place, to seek out the premises ; 
 and, in the second, to draw the conclusion. Of these 
 requisites the first is the more important, and it is also by 
 far the more difficult.
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 93 
 
 Now the passions of Hope and Fear operate severally to 
 
 prevent the intellect from discovering all 
 
 How Hope and Few the elements of decision, which ought to be 
 
 operate unfavorably considered in forming a correct conclusion, 
 on the Understand- . 
 
 ing. and cause it to take into account those only 
 
 which harmonize with that conclusion to 
 which the actuating passion is inclined. And here the pas- 
 sion operates in two ways. In the first place, it tends so to 
 determine the associations of thought, that only those media 
 of proof are suggested or called into consciousness, which 
 support the conclusion to which the passion tends. In the 
 second place, if the media of proof by which a counter con- 
 clusion is supported are brought before the mind, still the 
 mind is influenced by the passion to look on their reality 
 with doubt, and, if such cannot be questioned, to undervalue 
 their inferential importance ; whereas it is moved to admit, 
 without hesitation, those media of proof which favor the 
 conclusion in the interest of our hope or fear, and to ex- 
 aggerate the cogency with which they establish this result. 
 Either passion looks exclusively to a single end, and exclu- 
 sively to the means by which that single end is accom- 
 plished. Thus the sanguine temperament, or the mind 
 under the habitual predominance of hope, sees only and 
 magnifies all that militates in favor of the wished-for con- 
 summation, which alone it contemplates ; whereas the 
 melancholic temperament, or the mind under the habitual 
 predominance of fear, is wholly occupied with the dreaded 
 issue, views only what tends to its fulfilment, while it ex- 
 aggerates the possible into the probable, the probable into 
 the certain. Thus it is that whatever conclusion we greatly 
 hope or greatly four, to that conclusion we are disposed to 
 leap; and it has become almost proverbial, that men
 
 94: MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 lightly believe both what they wish, and what they dread, 
 to be true. 
 
 But the influence of Hope on our judgments, inclining us 
 to find whatever we wish to find, in so far as this arises from 
 the illusion of Self-love, is comprehended in this, the 
 fourth cause of error, to which I now proceed. 
 
 Self-love, under which I include the dispositions of 
 Vanity, Pride, and, in general, all those 
 
 4. Self-love. J . 
 
 which incline us to attribute an undue 
 weight to those opinions in which we feel a personal interest, 
 is by far the most extensive and influential in the way of 
 reason and truth. In virtue of this principle, whatever is 
 ours whatever is adopted or patronized by us, whatever 
 belongs to those to whom we are attached is either gratu- 
 itously clothed with a character of truth, or its pretensions 
 to be accounted true are not scrutinized with the requisite 
 rigor and impartiality. I am a native of this country, and, 
 therefore, not only is its history to me a matter of peculiar 
 interest, but the actions and character of my countrymen 
 are viewed in a very different light from that in which they 
 are regarded by a foreigner. I am born and bred a member 
 of a religious sect, and because they constitute my creed, I 
 find the tenets of this sect alone in conformity to the Word 
 of God. I am the partisan of a philosophical doctrine, and 
 am, therefore, disposed to reject whetever does not har- 
 monize with my adopted system. 
 
 "It is the part of a philosopher," says Aristotle, " inasmuch 
 as he is a philosopher, to subjugate self- 
 love, and to refute, if contrary to truth, 
 not only the opinions of his friends, but 
 the doctrines which he himself may have professed." It is 
 certain, however, that philosophers for philosophers are
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 95 
 
 men have been too often found to regulate their conduct 
 
 by the same opposite principle. That man pretended to 
 
 the name of philosopher, who scrupled not 
 
 niustntioniofthe to declare that he would rather Le in the 
 
 Influence of Self -love . ., T,, . , , . , , . . . .., 
 
 <* our optaiona. WrOD g Wlth Plat than m the "g ht Wlth 
 
 his opponents. " Gisbert Voetius urged 
 Mersennus to refute a work of Descartes' a year before the 
 book appeared, and before he had himself the means of 
 judging whether the opinions it contained were right or 
 wrong. A certain professor of philosophy in Padua came to 
 Galileo, and requested that he would explain to him the 
 meaning of the term parallaxif ; which he wished, he said, 
 to refute, having heard that it was opposed to Aristotle's 
 doctrine, touching the relative situation of the comets. 
 ' What !' answered Galileo, ' you wish to controvert a word 
 the meaning of which you do not know !' Redi tells us that 
 n sturdy Peri]tetic of his acquaintance would never con- 
 sent to look at the heavens through a telescope, lest he 
 should be compelled to admit the existence of the new stars 
 discovered by Galileo and others. The same Redi informs 
 us that he knew another Peripatetic, a staunch advocate of 
 the Aristotlean doctrine of equivocal generation, (a doctrine, 
 by the way, which now again divides the physiologists of 
 Europe), and whb, in particular, maintained that the green 
 frogs which appear upon a shower come down with the rain, 
 who would not be induced himself to select and examine 
 one of these frogs. And why? Because he was unwilling 
 to be convicted of his error, by Redi showing him the green 
 matter in the stomach, and its feculse in the intestines of 
 the animal." The spirit of the Peripatetic philosophy was, 
 however, wholly misunderstood by these mistaken followers 
 of Aristotle ; for a true Aristotelian is otio who listen*
 
 96 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 rather to the voice of nature than to the precept of any 
 master, and it is well expressed in the motto of the great 
 French anatomist Riolanus est Peripateticus ; credit ea, et 
 ea tantum, quce vidit, Erom the same principle proceeds 
 the abuse, and sometimes even the persecution, which 
 the discoverers of new truths encounter from those who 
 cherished opinions these truths subvert. 
 
 In like manner, as we are disposed to maintain our own 
 opinion, we are inclined to regard with 
 
 Self-ioyeleadsusto fftvor h opiniong of those to whom we are 
 
 regard with favor the 
 
 opinions of those to attached by love, gratitude, and other con- 
 
 affections. "We do not limit 
 
 way attached. 
 
 our attachment to the persons of our 
 friends, we love in a certain sort all that belongs to them ; 
 and as men generally manifest sufficient ardor in support of 
 their opinions, we are led insensibly by a kind of sympathy 
 to credit, to approve, and to defend these also, and that even 
 more passionately than our friends themselves. We bear 
 affection to others for various reasons. The agreement of 
 tempers, of inclinations, of pursuits ; their appearance, 
 their manners, their virtue, the partiality which they have 
 shown to us, the services we have received at their hands, 
 and many other particular causes, determine and direct our 
 
 love. ,.- ;,>j 
 
 " It is observed by the great Malebranche, that if any of 
 our friends, any even of those we are dis- 
 posed to love, advance an opinion, we 
 
 duced to this effect. 
 
 forthwith lightly allow ourselves to be 
 persuaded of its truth. This opinion we accept and support, 
 without troubling ourselves to inquire whether it be con- 
 formable to fact, frequently even against our conscience, in 
 conformity to the darkness and confusion of our izitellect, to
 
 h 
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 97 
 
 the corruption of our heart, and to the advantages which 
 we hope to reap from our facility and complaisance." 
 
 The influence of this principle is seen still more manifestly 
 
 when the passion changes ; for though the 
 
 Thi shown pe- things themselves remain unaltered, our 
 
 dally when the pan- . 
 
 sion chng. judgments concerning them are totally 
 
 reversed. How often do we behold persons 
 
 who cannot, or will not, recognize a single good quality in 
 
 an individual from the moment he has chanced to incur 
 
 their dislike, and who are even ready to adopt opinions, 
 
 merely because opposed to others maintained by the object 
 
 of their aversion? The celebrated Arnauld 
 
 Amauid hold* that g^g so f ar even ^ ^ asser t, that men are 
 
 man U naturally en- v . 
 
 viou, naturally envious and jealous ; that it is 
 
 with pain they endure the contemplation 
 of others in the enjoyment of advantages which they do not 
 themselves possess ; and, as the knowledge of truth and the 
 power of enlightening mankind is one of these, that they 
 have a secret inclination to deprive them of that glory. 
 This accordingly often determines them to controvert with- 
 out a ground the opinions and discoveries of others. Self- 
 love accordingly often argues thus : ' This is an opinion 
 which 1 have originated, this is an opinion, therefore, which 
 is true ;' whereas the natural malignity of man not less 
 frequently suggests such another : ' It is another than I who 
 has advanced this doctrine ; this doctrine is, therefore, false." 
 We may distinguish, however, from malignant or envious 
 contradiction another passion, which, 
 D " vu ' though more generous in its nature and 
 not simply a mode of Self-love, tends, 
 nevertheless, equally to divert us from the stniight road of 
 truth, I mean Pugnacity, or the love of Disputation.
 
 98 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 Under the influence of this passion, we propose as onr end 
 
 victory, not truth. We insensibly become accustomed to- 
 
 find a reason for any opinion, and, in placing ourselves 
 
 above all reasons, to surrender our belief to none. Thus it 
 
 is why two disputants so rarely ever agree, and why a 
 
 question is seldom or never decided in a discussion, where 
 
 the combative dispositions of the reasoners have once been 
 
 roused in activity. In controversy it is always easy to find 
 
 wherewithal to reply ; the end of the parties is not to avoid 
 
 error, but to impose silence ; and they are less ashamed of 
 
 continuing wrong than of confessing that they are not right, 
 
 . ^. These affections may be said to be the immediate causes 
 
 of all error. Other causes there are, but 
 
 Thew affections the not immediate. In so far as Logic detects 
 
 immediate causes of ^ sources o f our f a lg e judgments and 
 all error. . . J 
 
 Preliminary codi- shows their remedies, it must carefully 
 tions requisite for inculcate that no precautionary precept 
 
 the efficiency of pre* . , ., 
 
 cepu against the * or particular cases can avail, unless the 
 sources of error. inmost principle of the evil be discovered, 
 and a cure applied. You must, there- 
 fore, as you would remain free from the hallucination of 
 false opinion, be convinced of the absolute necessity of 
 following out the investigation of every question calmly 
 and without passion. You must learn to pursue, and to 
 estimate, truth without distraction or bias. To this there 
 is required, as a primary condition, the unshackled freedom 
 of thought, the equal glanee which can take in the whole 
 sphere of observation, the cool determination to pursue the 
 truth whithersoever it may lead ; and, what is still more 
 important, the disposition to feel an interest in truth and 
 in truth alone. If perchance eome collateral interest may 
 first prompt us to the inquiry, in our general interest for
 
 AFFECTIONS PRECIPITANCY. 99 
 
 truth we must repress, we must forget, this interest, until 
 the inquiry be concluded. Of what account are the most 
 venerated opinions if they be untrue 1 At best they are 
 only venerable delusions. He who allows himself to be 
 actuated in his scientific procedure by any partial interest, 
 can never obtain a comprehensive survey of the whole he 
 has to take into account, and always, therefore, remains 
 incapable of discriminating, with accuracy, error from truth. 
 The independent thinker must, in all his inquiries, subject 
 himself to the genius of truth, must be prepared to follow 
 her footsteps without faltering or hesitation. In the con- 
 sciousness that truth is the noblest of ends, and that he 
 pursues this end with honesty and devotion, he will dread 
 no consequences, for he relies upon the truth. Does he 
 compass the truth, he congratulates himself upon his 
 success ; does he fall short of its attainment, he knows that 
 even his present failure will ultimately advance him to the 
 reward he merits. Err he may, and that perhaps fre- 
 quently, but he will never deceive himself. "We cannot, 
 indeed, rise superior to our limitary nature, we cannot, 
 therefore, be reproached for failure ; but we are always 
 responsible for the calmness and impartiality of our re- 
 searches, and these alone render us worthy of success. But 
 though it be manifest, that to attain the truth we must 
 follow whithersoever the truth may lead, still men in 
 general are found to yield not an absolute, but only a re- 
 stricted, obedience to the precept. They capitulate, and do 
 not unconditionally surrender. I give up, but my cherished 
 dogma in religion must not be canvassed, says one ; my 
 political principles are above inquiry, and must be ex- 
 empted, says a second ; my country is the land of lands, 
 this cannot be disallowed, cries a third ; my order, my
 
 100 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 vocation, is undoubtedly the noblest, exclaim a fourth and 
 fifth ; only do not require that we should confess our 
 having erred, is the condition which many insist on stipu- 
 lating. Above all, that resolve of mind is difficult, which 
 is ready to surrender all fond convictions, and is prepared 
 to recommence investigation the moment that a fundamental 
 error in the former system of belief has been detected. These 
 are the principal grounds why, among men, opinion is so 
 widely separated from opinion ; and why the clearest 
 demonstration is so frequently for a season frustrated of 
 victory. 
 
 Par. VII. Bnls IT VII. Against the Errors which 
 against Errors from ar i se f rom t }, e Affections, there may 
 
 the Affections. 
 
 be given the three following rules : 
 1, "When the error has arisen from the inflxience of 
 an active affection, the decisive judgment is to be 
 annulled ; the mind is then to be freed, as far as pos- 
 sible, from passion, and the process of inquiry to be 
 recommenced as soon as the requisite tranquility has 
 been restored. 
 
 2, When the error has arisen from a relaxed en- 
 thusiasm for knowledge, we must reanimate this 
 intei-est by a vivid representation of the paramount 
 dignity of truth, and of the lofty destination of our 
 intellectual nature. 
 
 3, In testing the accuracy of our judgments, we 
 must be particularly suspicious of those results which 
 accord with our private inclinations and predominant 
 tendencies. 
 These rules require no comment.
 
 LECTURE IV. MODIFIED STOICHEIOLOGY. 
 
 SECTION II. -ERROR, -ITS CAUSES AND REMEDIES. 
 B. AS JN THE COGNITIONS, FEELINGS, AND DESIRES. 
 
 H. WEAKNESS AND DISPROPORTIONED STRENGTH OF THE 
 FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 I NOW go on to the Second Head of the class of Errors 
 
 founded on the Natural Constitution, the 
 
 WMknw and DU- Acquired Habits, and the Reciprocal Ee- 
 
 proportionedstren&th i at i OD8 o f our Cognitive and Affective 
 
 Of the FaCUlUe. Of 
 
 Knowledge. Powers, that is, to the Causes of Error 
 
 which originate in the Weakness or 
 Disproportioned Strength of one or more of our Faculties 
 of Knowledge themselves. 
 
 Here, in the first place, I might consider the errors 
 
 which have arisen from the Limited Na- 
 
 Nejriectof theLim- ture of the Human Intellect in general, 
 
 ited Nature of the OJ . ^g,. f rom t |, e mistakes that have been 
 
 Human Intellect a 
 
 ouroe of error. made by philosophers in denying or not 
 taking this limited nature into account. 
 The illustration of this subject is one which is relative to, 
 and supposes an acquaintance with, some of the abstrucest 
 speculations in Philosophy, and which belong not to Logic, 
 but to Metaphysics. I shall not, therefore, do more than
 
 102 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 simply indicate at present, what it will be proper at another 
 season fully to explain. It is manifest, 
 that, if the human mind be limited, if it 
 
 the Absolute. 
 
 only knows as it is conscious, and if it be 
 only conscious, as it is conscious of contrast and opposition, 
 of an ego and non-ego, if this supposition, I say, be correct, 
 it is evident that those philosophers are in error, who vir- 
 tually assume that the hitman mind is unlimited, that is, 
 that the human mind is capable of a knowledge superior to 
 consciousness, a cognition in which knowledge and exist- 
 ence the Ego and non-Ego God and the creature are 
 identical ; that is, of an act in which the mind is the 
 Absolute, and knows the Absolute. This philosophy, the 
 statement of which, as here given, it would require a long 
 commentary to make you understand, is one which has for 
 many years been that dominant in Germany ; it is called 
 the Philosophy of the Absolute, or the Philosophy of Abso- 
 lute Identity. This system, of which Schelling and Hegel 
 are the great representatives, errs by denying the limitation 
 of human intelligence without proof, and by boldly building 
 its edifice on this gratuitous negation. 
 
 But there are other forms of philosophy which err not in 
 
 actually postulating the infinity of mind, 
 2. A one-sided view but j n taking only a one-sided view of its 
 
 of the flnitude of % . . 
 
 mini finitude. It is a general fact, which seems, 
 
 however, to have escaped the observation 
 of philosophers, that whatever we -can positively compass in 
 thought, whatever we can conceive as possible, in a word, 
 the omne cogitabile, lies between two extremes or poles, 
 contradictorily opposed, and one of which must consequently 
 be true, but of neither of which repugnant opposites are we 
 able to represent to our mind the possibility. To take one
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 103 
 
 example out of many : we cannot construe to the mind as 
 possible the absolute commencement of 
 
 fcy r- time ; bat we are equally unable to think 
 
 Terence to the two ., ., .... f ., ,. 
 
 ont<uctories,-0ie the possibility of the counter alterna- 
 
 *lMoite commence- ti<ve, its infinite or absolute non-com- 
 
 ne B t..ndueinfloit. ^ enceiaeiit i n othc,. wor de, the infinite 
 
 non- commencement 
 
 regress of time. Now it is evident, that, 
 
 if wa looked merely at the one of these con- 
 tradictory opposites aud argued thus : whatever is incon- 
 ceivable is impossible, the absolute commencement of time 
 is inconceivable, therefore the absolute commencement of 
 time is impossible ; but on the principles of Contradiction 
 and Excluded Middle, one or other of the two opposite 
 contradictories must be true ; therefore, as the absolute com- 
 mencement of time is impossible, the absolute or infinite 
 non-commencement of time is necessary : I say, it is 
 evident that this reasoning would be incompetent and one- 
 sided, because it might be converted ; for, by the same one- 
 aided process, the opposite conclusion might be drawn in 
 favor of the absolute commencement of time. 
 
 Now, the unilateral and incompetent reasoning which I 
 
 have here supposed in the case of time, is 
 Tbmevrindpie one of which the Necessitarian is guilty in 
 
 exemplified in the . . 
 
 OM* f u Nee**- nls argument to prove the impossibility of 
 iuriA A/jruineBt human volitions being free. He correctly 
 
 against the Freedom , , .. /. , ,. i . 
 
 ( th iKm Witt y a down, as the foundation of his reason- 
 ing, two propoaition.9 which must at once 
 be allowed : 1, That the notion of the liberty of rolition 
 involves the supposition of an absolute commencement of 
 volition, that ia, of a volition which is a cause, but is not 
 itself, yw cause, an effect 2, That the absolute commence- 
 ment of a volition, or of aught else, cannot be conceived,
 
 104 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 that is, cannot be directly or positively thought as possible. 
 So far he is correct ; but when he goes on to apply these 
 principles by arguing (and be it observed this syllogism lies 
 at the root of all the reasonings for necessity), WJiataoever 
 is inconceivable is impossible ; but the supposition of the 
 absolute commencement of volition is inconceivable ; there- 
 fore, the supposition of the absolve commencement of volition 
 (the condition of free-will) is impossible, -we may here 
 demur to the sumption, and ask him, Can he positively 
 conceive the opposite contradictory of the absolute com- 
 mencement, that is, an infinite series of relative non- 
 commencements ? If he answers, as he must, that he can 
 not, we may again ask him, By what right he assumed as 
 a self-evident axiom for his sumption, the proposition that 
 whatever is inconceivable is impossible, or by what right he 
 could substime his minor premise, when by his own con- 
 fession he allows that the opposite contradictory of his 
 minor premise, that is, the very proposition he is apagogi- 
 eally proving, is, likewise, inconceivable, and, therefore, on 
 the principle of his sumption, likewise impossible. 
 
 The same inconsequence wonld equally apply to the 
 
 Libertarian, who should attempt to prove 
 
 And in tfa case of that free-will must be allowed, on the 
 
 the Libertarian AT- g^ tliat its contradictory opposite is 
 
 gument in behalf of 
 
 Free-wilL impossible, because inconceivable. He can- 
 
 not prove his thesis by such a process ; in 
 fact, by all speculative reasoning from the conditions of 
 thought, the two doctrines are in (equilibria; both are 
 equally possible, both are equally inconceivable. It is 
 only when the Libertarian descends to arguments drawn 
 from the fact of the Moral Law and its conditions, that he
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. ~7I 105 
 
 is able to throw in reasons which incline the balance in his 
 favor. 
 
 On these matters I, however, at present, only touch, in 
 order to show you under what head of Error these reason- 
 ings would naturally fall. 
 
 Leaving, therefore, or adjourning, the consideration of 
 
 the imbecility of the human intellect in 
 
 We&knessordispro- general, I shall now take into view, as a 
 
 portioned strength of f . . 
 
 the ievei*i cognitive source of logical error, the Weakness or 
 
 Faculties, * ource Disproportioned Strength of the several 
 
 Cognitive Faculties. Now, as the Cogni- 
 
 Cogniure F^uiue. fae Faculties in man consist partly of 
 
 of two duwa, A Low- r J 
 
 er tad Higher. certain Lower Powers, which he possesses 
 
 in common with other sensible existences, 
 
 ' 
 
 namely, the Fresentative, the Retentive, the Representative 
 and the Reproductive Faculties, and partly of certain higher 
 Powers, in virtue of which lie enters into the rank of in- 
 telligent existences, namely, the Elaborative and Regulative 
 Faculties, it will be proper to consider the powers of these 
 two classes severally in succession, in so far as they may 
 afford the causes or occasions of error. 
 
 Of the lower class, the first faculty in order is the Pre- 
 
 sentative or Acquisitive Faculty. This, 
 
 I. The Lower CUM, M you remember, is divided into two, viz., 
 
 1 T*Hai f>n^tii t*- 
 
 UT Faculty " lto ^e J^^ty which presents us with 
 
 the phenomena of the outer world, and 
 into the faculty which presents us with the phenomena of 
 the inner. The former ib External Perception, or External 
 Se^ae ; the latter is Self consciousness, Internal Perception, 
 or Internal Sense. I commence, therefore, with the 
 Faculty of External Perception, in relation to which I give 
 you the following paragraph : 
 
 6*
 
 106 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 1T VII. When aught is presented through the outer 
 
 senses, there are two conditions ne- 
 
 Par. vil. (a) Ex- cessary for its adequate perception : 
 
 ternal Perception, n mi i . s\ , -t 
 
 a. a source of Er. 1 ' The relatlv e Organs must be pre- 
 ror. sent, and in a condition to discharge 
 
 their functions ; and 2, The objects 
 themselves must bear a certain relation to these organs, 
 so that the latter shall be suitably affected, and thereby 
 the former suitably apprehended. It is possible, there- 
 fore, that, partly through the altered condition of the 
 organs, partly through the altered situation of the 
 objects, dissimilar presentations of the same, and simi- 
 lar presentations of different, objects, may be the result. 
 
 In the first place, without the organs specially subser- 
 vient to External Perception, without the eye, the ear, 
 etc., sensible perceptions of a precise and 
 Explication. determinate character, such, for example, 
 
 Conditions of the ^ co } or or SO imd, are not competent to 
 
 adequate activity of 
 
 External Perception, man. In the second place, to perform 
 their functions, these organs must be in a 
 healthy or normal state ; for if this condition be not ful- 
 filled, the presentations which they furnish are null, incom- 
 plete, or false. But, in the third place, even if the organs 
 of sense are sound and perfect, the objects to be presented 
 and perceived must stand to these organs in a certain 
 relation, must bear to them a certain proportion ; for, 
 otherwise, the objects cannot be presented at all, or cannot 
 be perceived without illusion. Tne sounds, for example, 
 which we are to hear, must neither be too high nor too low 
 in quality ; the bodies which we are to see, must neither be 
 too near nor too distant, must neither be too feebly nor too 
 intensely illuminated. In relation to the sepond condition,
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OT KNOWLEDGE. 10T 
 
 there are given, in consequence of the altered state of the 
 organs, on the one hand, different present- 
 
 Powible illusions trf ,. c t \.- \ 
 
 the senses ations of the same object ; thus to a 
 
 person who has waxed purblind, his friend 
 appears as an utter stranger, the eye now presenting its 
 objects with less clearness and distinctness. On the other 
 hand, there are given the same, or undistinguishably similar, 
 presentations of different objects ; thus to a person in the 
 jaundice, all things are presented yellow. In relation to 
 the third condition, from the altered position of objects, 
 there are, in like manner, determined, on the one hand, 
 different presentations of the same objects, as when the 
 stick which appears straight in the air appears crooked 
 when partially immersed in water ; and, on the other hand, 
 identical presentations of different objects, as when a man 
 and a horse appear in the distance to be so similar, that the 
 one cannot be discriminated from the other. In all these 
 cases, these illusions are determined, illusions which may 
 easily become the occasions of false judgments. 
 
 In regard to the detection of such illusions and obvi- 
 ating the error to which they lead, it be- 
 
 with * hooves us to take the following precau- 
 
 Flew to the detection ^ .-_ . , .. . 
 
 oi minion* of the "O n 8- We must, in the first place, examine 
 
 6nM,uMi obviating the state of the organ. If found defective, 
 
 we must endeavor to restore it to perfec- 
 
 tion ; but if this cannot be done, we must 
 
 ascertain the extent and nature of the evil, in order to be 
 
 upon our guard in regard to quality and degree of the false 
 
 presentation. 
 
 In the second place, we must examine the relative situa- 
 tion of the object, and if this be not accommodated to 
 tl.e organ, we must either obviate the disproportion and
 
 108 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 remove the media which occasion the Illusion, or repeat the 
 observation under different circumstances, compare these, 
 and thus obtain the means of making an ideal abstraction 
 of the disturbing causes. 
 
 In regard to the other Presentative Faculty, the 
 Faculty of Self-consciousness, Internal Perception, or In- 
 ternal Sense, as we know less of the material conditions 
 which modify its action, we are unable to ascertain so pre- 
 cisely the nature of the illusions of which it may be the 
 source. In reference to this subject you may take the 
 following paragraph : 
 
 IT VIII. The faculty of Self-consciousness, or Internal 
 
 Sense, is subject to various changes, 
 
 Par.vin. (b)Self- which either modify our apprehensions 
 
 consciousness, as .> i n 
 
 a source of Srror objects, or influence the manner in 
 
 which we judge concerning them. In 
 so far, therefore, as false judgments are thus occa- 
 sioned, Self-consciousness is a source of error. 
 
 It is a matter of ordinary observation, that the vivacity 
 
 with which we are conscious of the various 
 
 Explication. phenomena of mind, differs not only at 
 
 self-consciousness ^ { . different states of health, 
 
 yanes in intensity. 
 
 and in different degrees of mental fresh- 
 ness and exhaustion, but, at the same time, differs in regard 
 to the different kinds of these phenomena themselves. Ac- 
 cording to the greater or less intensity of this faculty, the 
 same thoughts of which we are conscious are, at one time, 
 clear and distinct, at another, obscure and confused. At 
 one time we are almost wholly incapable of reflection, and 
 every act of self attention is forced and irksome, and differ- 
 ences the most marked pass unnoticed ; while, at another 
 our self-consciousness is alert, all its applications pleasing,
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 109 
 
 and the most faint and fugitive phenomena arrested and 
 observed. On one occasion, Self-consciousness, as a re- 
 flective cognition, is strong ; on another, all reflection is 
 extinguished in the intensity of the direct consciousness of 
 feeling or desire. In one state of mind our representations 
 are feeble ; in another, they are so lively that they are mis- 
 taken for external realities. Our self-consciousness may 
 thus be the occasion of frequent error ; for, according to its 
 various modifications, we may form the most opposite 
 judgments concerning the same things, pronouncing them, 
 for example, now to be agreeable, now to be disagreeable, 
 according as our Internal Sense is variously affected. 
 
 The next is the Retentive or Conservative Faculty, 
 Memory strictly so called ; in reference to which I give you 
 the following paragraph : 
 
 U IX. Memory, or the Conservative Faculty, is the 
 
 occasion of Error, both when too 
 
 pr. ix. z Mem- weak and when too strong. When 
 
 cry, M a >onrc 
 
 of tnor. too weak, the complement of cogni- 
 
 tions which it retains is small and 
 indistinct, and the Understanding or Elaborative 
 Faculty is, consequently, unable adequately to judge 
 concerning the similarity and differences of its re- 
 presentations and concepts. When too strong, the 
 Understanding is overwhelmed with the multitude of 
 acquired cognitions simultaneously forced upon it, so 
 that it is unable calmly and deliberately to compare 
 and discriminate these. 
 
 That both these extremes, that both the insufficient and 
 the superfluous vigor of the Conservative 
 
 Explication. 
 
 Faculty are severally the sources of Error, 
 it will not require many oi>servations to make apparent
 
 110 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 In regard to a feeble memory, it is manifest that a multi- 
 tude of false judgments must inevitably 
 
 Feeble Memory. J 
 
 arise from an incapacity in this faculty to 
 preserve the observations committed to its keeping. In 
 consequence of this incapacity, if a cognition be not wholly 
 lost, it is lost at least in part, and the circumstances of 
 time, place, persons and things confounded with each other. 
 For example, I may recollect the tenor of a passage 1 have 
 read, but from defect of memory may attribute to one author 
 what really belongs to another. Thus a botanist may judge 
 two different plants to be identical in species, having for- 
 gotten the differential characters by which they were dis- 
 criminated ; or he may hold the same plant to be two 
 different species, having examined it at different times and 
 places. 
 
 Though nothing could be more erroneous than a general 
 and unqualified decision, that a great 
 
 Strong Memory. . . 
 
 memory is incompatible with a sound 
 judgment, yet it is an observation confirmed by the experi- 
 ence of all ages and countries, not only that a great memory 
 is no condition of high intellectual talent, but that great 
 memories are very frequently found in combination with 
 comparatively feeble powers of thought. The truth seems 
 to be, that where a vigorous memory is conjoined with a 
 vigorous intellect, not only does the force of the subsidiary 
 faculty not detract from the strength of the principal, but, 
 on the contrary, tends to confer on it a still higher power ; 
 whereas when the inferior faculty is disproportionately 
 strong, that so far from nourishing and corroborating the 
 superior, it tends to reduce this faculty to a lower level than 
 that at which it would have stood, if united with a less 
 overpowering subsidiary. The greater the magazine of
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. Ill 
 
 various knowledge which the memory contains, the better 
 for the understanding, provided the understanding can 
 reduce this various knowledge to order and subjection. A 
 great memory is the principal condition of bringing before 
 the mind many different representations and notions at 
 once, or in rapid succession. This simultaneous or nearly 
 simultaneous presence disturbs, however, th6 tranquil com- 
 parison of a small number of ideas, which, if it shall judge 
 aright, the intellect must contemplate with a fixed and 
 steady attention. Now, -where an intellect possesses the 
 power of concentration in a high degree, it will not be 
 harrassed in its meditations by the officious intrusions of 
 the subordinate faculties, however vigorous these in them- 
 selves may be, but will control their vigor by exhausting in 
 its own operations the whole applicable energy of mind. 
 Whereas where the inferior is more vigorous than the supe- 
 rior, it will, in like manner, engross in its own function the 
 disposable amount of activity, and overwhelm the principal 
 faculty with materials, many even in proportion as it is able 
 to elaborate few. This appears to me the reason why men 
 of strong memories are so often men of proportionally weak 
 judgments, and why so many errors arise from the posses- 
 sion of a faculty, the perfection of which ought to exempt 
 them from many mistaken judgments. 
 
 As to the remedy for these opposite extremes. The 
 former the imbecility of memory can 
 y invigorating the ca- 
 
 pacity of Retention through mnemonic 
 exercises and methods ; the latter, the inordinate vigor of 
 Memory, by cultivating the Understanding to the neglect 
 of the Conservative Faculty. It will, likewise, be necessary 
 to be upon our guard against the errors originating in these
 
 112 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 counter sources. In the one case distrusting the accuracy 
 of facts, in the other, the accuracy of their elaboration. 
 
 The next faculty is the Reproductive. This, when its 
 operation is voluntarily exerted, is called Recollection or 
 
 Reminiscence; when it energizes sponta- 
 iVe neousl y or without volition, it is called 
 
 Suggestion. The laws by which it is 
 governed in either case, but especially in the latter, are 
 called the Laws of Mental Association. This Reproductive 
 Faculty, like the Retentive, is the cause of error, both if its 
 vigor be defective, or if it be too strong. I shall consider 
 Recollection and Suggestion severally and apart. In regard 
 to the former I give you the following paragraph. 
 
 IT X. The Reproductive Faculty, in so far as it is 
 
 voluntarily exercised, as Reminis- 
 
 Far. x. (a) Remin- cence, becomes a source of Error, as 
 
 iscenoe as a source ... ... , . . 
 
 of Error. xt ls eit " er too sluggish or too prompt, 
 
 precisely as the Retentive Faculty, 
 combined with which it constitutes Memory in the 
 looser signification. 
 
 It is necessary to say very little in special reference to 
 
 Reminiscence, for what was said in regard 
 
 Explication. fa the Conservative Faculty or Memory 
 
 Reminiscence, its _. , . , 
 
 undue activity. Proper in its highest vigor, was applicable 
 
 to, and in fact supposed a corresponding 
 degree of, the Reproductive. For, however great may be 
 the mass of cognitions retained in the mind, that is, out of 
 consciousness, but potentially capable of being called into 
 consciousness, these can never of themselves oppress the 
 Understanding by their simultaneous crowding or rapid 
 succession, if the faculty by which they are revoked into 
 consciousness be inert ; whereas if this revocative faculty
 
 WEAKXESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 113 
 
 be comparatively alert and vigorous, a smaller magazine of 
 retained cognitions may suffice to harass the intellect with 
 a ceaseless supply of materials too profuse for its capacity 
 of elaboration. 
 
 On the other hand, the inactivity of our Recollection is a 
 source of error, precisely as the weakness 
 
 ltelnUvity. m . 
 
 of our Memory proper; for it is of the 
 same effect in relation to our judgments, whether the cogni- 
 tions requisite for a decision be not retained in the mind, 
 or whether, being retained, they are not recalled into con- 
 sciousness by Reminiscence. 
 
 In regard to Suggestion, or the Reproductive Faculty 
 operating spontaneously, that is, not in subservience to an 
 act of Will, I shall give you the following paragraph : 
 
 1T XI. As our Cognitions, Feelings, and Desires 
 
 are connected together by what are 
 
 Par. XI. (b) Sng- called the Laws of Association, and 
 
 fetion aource 
 
 of Error. ^ eac " "*** ln * ne chain of thought 
 
 suggests or awakens into conscious- 
 ness some other in conformity to these Laws, these 
 "Laws, as they bestow a strong subjective connection 
 on thoughts and objects of a wholly arbitrary union, 
 frequently occasion great confusion and error in our 
 judgments. 
 Even in methodical thinking, we do not connect all 
 
 our thoughts intentionally and rationally, 
 II in 1 1 i 
 
 but many press forward into the train, 
 
 either in consequence of some external impression, or in 
 virtue of certain internal relations, which, however, are not 
 of a logical dependency. Thus thoughts tend to fuggcst 
 each other, which have reference to things of which we were 
 previously cognizant as coexistent, or as immediately cou-
 
 114 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 sequent, which have been apprehended as bearing a resem- 
 blance to each other, or which have stood together in 
 reciprocal and striking contrast. This connection, though 
 precarious and non-logical, is thus, however, governed by 
 certain laws, which have been called the Laws of Association. 
 These laws, which I have just enumerated, viz., the Law of 
 Coexistence or Simultaneity, the Law of Continuity or 
 Immediate Succession, the Law of Similarity, and the Law 
 of Contrast, are all only special modifications of one general 
 law, which I would call the Law of Redintegration ; that 
 is, the principle according to which whatever has previously 
 formed a part of one total act of consciousness, tends, when 
 itself recalled into consciousness, to reproduce along with it 
 the other parts of that original whole. But though these 
 tendencies be denominated laws, the influence which they 
 exert, though often strong and sometimes irresistible, is only 
 contingent ; for it frequently happens that thoughts which 
 have previously stood to each other in one or other of the 
 four relations do not suggest each other. The Laws of 
 Association stand, therefore, on a very different footing from 
 the laws of logical connection. But those Laws of Associ- 
 ation, contingent though they be, exert a great and often a 
 very pernicious influence upon thought, inasmuch as by the 
 involuntary intrusion of representations into the mental 
 chain which are wholly irrelevant to the mutter in hand, 
 there arises a perplexed and redundant tissue of thought, 
 into which false characters may easily find admission, and in 
 which true characters may easily be overlooked. But this 
 is not alL For, by being ouce blended together in our con- 
 sciousness, things really distinct in their nature tend again 
 to reassociate, and, at every repetition of this
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 115 
 
 conjunction, this tendency is fortified, and their mutual 
 suggestion rendered more certain and irresistible. 
 
 It is in virtue of this principle of Association and Custom, 
 
 that things are clothed by us with the pre- 
 
 influence o* AMO- carious attributes of deformity or beauty : 
 
 elation in matters of 
 
 and some philosophers have gone so far as 
 
 to maintain that our principles of Taste 
 are exclusively dependent on the accidents of Association. 
 But if this be an exaggeration, it is impossible to deny that 
 Association enjoys an extensive jurisdiction in the empire 
 of taste, and, in particular, that fashion is almost wholly 
 subject to its control. 
 
 On this subject I may quote a few sentences from the first 
 volume of Mr. Stewart's Elements. " In 
 
 Stewart quoted. 
 
 matters of Taste, the effects which we 
 consider are produced on the mind itself, and are accom- 
 panied either with pleasure or with pain. Hence the 
 tendency to casual association is much stronger than it 
 commonly is with respect to physical events ; and when 
 such associations are once formed, as they do not lead to 
 any important inconvenience, similar to those which result 
 from physical mistakes, they are not so likely to be corrected 
 by mere experience, unassisted by study. To this it is 
 owing that the influence of association on our judgments 
 concerning beauty and deformity, is still more remarkable 
 than on our speculative conclusions ; a circumstance which 
 has led some philosophers to suppose that association is 
 sufficient to account for the origin of these notions, and that 
 there in no nuch thing as a standard of taste, founded on 
 the principles of the human constitution. But this id un- 
 doubtedly pushing the theory a great deal too far. The 
 association of ideas can never account for the origin of a
 
 116 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 new notion, or of a pleasure essentially different from all 
 the others which we know. It may, indeed, enable us to 
 conceive how a thing indifferent in itself may become a 
 source of pleasure, by being connected in the mind with, 
 something else which is naturally agreeable ; but it pre- 
 supposes, in every instance, the existence of those notions 
 and those feelings which it is its province to combine ; inso- 
 much that, I apprehend, it will be found, wherever associ- 
 ations produce a change in our judgments on matters of 
 taste, it does so by co-operating with some natural principle 
 of the mind, and implies the existence of certain original 
 sources of pleasure and uneasiness. 
 
 " A mode of dress, which at first appeared awkward, 
 acquires, in a few weeks or months, the appearance of ele- 
 gance. By being accustomed to see it worn by those whom 
 we consider as models of taste, it becomes associated with 
 the agreeable impressions which we receive from the ease 
 and grace and refinement of their manners. When it 
 pleases by itself, the effect is to be ascribed, not to the 
 object actually before us, but to the impressions with which 
 it has been generally connected, and which it naturally 
 recalls to the mind. 
 
 " This observation points out the cause of the perpetual 
 vicissitudes in dress, and in everything whose chief recom- 
 mendation arises from fashion. It is evident that, as far as 
 the agreeable effect of an ornament arises from association, 
 the effect will continue only while it is confined to the 
 higher orders. When it is adopted by the multitude, it 
 not only ceases to be associated with ideas of taste and 
 refinement, but it is associated with ideas of affectation, 
 absurd imitation, and vulgarity. It is accordingly laid 
 aside by the higher orders, who studiously avoid every cir-
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OP KNOWLEDGE. 117 
 
 cumstance in external appearance which is debased by low 
 and common use ; and they are led to exercise their inven- 
 tion in the introduction of some new peculiarities, which 
 first become fashionable, then common, and last of all, are 
 abandoned as vulgar. 
 
 " Our moral judgments, too, may be modified, and even 
 perverted to a certain degree, in consequence of the opera- 
 tion of the same principle. In the same manner in which 
 a person who is regarded as a model of taste may introduce, 
 by his example, an absurd or fantastical dress ; so a man 
 of splendid virtues may attract some esteem also to his im- 
 perfections ; and, if placed in a conspicuous situation, way 
 render his vices and follies objects of general imitation 
 among the multitude. 
 
 " ' In the reign of Charles II.,' says Mr. Smith, ' a degree 
 of licentiousness was deemed the characteristic of a liberal 
 education. It was connected, according to the notions of 
 those times, with generosity, sincerity, magnanimity, 
 loyalty; and proved that the person who acted in this 
 manner was a gentleman, and not a puritan. Severity of 
 manners, and regularity of conduct, on the other hand, 
 were altogether unfashionable, and were connected, in the 
 imagination of that age, with cant, cunning, hypocrisy, and 
 low manners. To superficial minds the vices of the greut 
 seem at all times agreeable. They connect them nut only 
 with the splendor of fortune, but with many superior 
 virtues which they ascribe to their su])criors ; with the 
 spirit of freedom and independency ; with frankness, gene- 
 rosity, humanity, and politeness. The virtues of the in- 
 ferior ranks of ]>eople, on the contrary, their parsimonious 
 frugality, their painful industry, and rigid adherence to 
 rules, seem to them mean and disagreeable. They connect
 
 118 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 them both with the meanness of the station to which these 
 qualities commonly belong, and with many great vices 
 which they suppose usually accompany them ; such as an 
 abject, cowardly, ill-natured, lying, pilfering disposition.' " 
 
 " In general," says Condillac, " the impression we experi- 
 ence in the different circumstances of life, 
 
 Condillac quoted ma k es us associate ideas with a force which 
 
 on the influence of 
 
 Association. renders them ever after for us indissoluble. 
 
 We cannot, for example, frequent the 
 society of our fellow-men without insensibly associating the 
 notions of certain intellectual or moral qualities with 
 certain corporeal characters. This is the reason why 
 persons of a decided physiognomy please or displease us 
 more than others ; for a physiognomy is only an assemblage 
 of characters, with which we have associated notions which 
 are not suggested without an accompaniment of satisfaction 
 or disgust. It is not, therefore, to be marvelled at that we 
 judge men according to their physiognomy, and that we some- 
 times feel towards them at first sight aversion or inclination. 
 In consequence of these associations, we are often vehemently 
 prepossessed in favor of certain individuals, and no less 
 violently disposed against others. It is because all that 
 strikes us in our friends or in our enemies is associated 
 with the agreeable or the disagreeable feeling which we 
 severally experience ; and because the faults of the former 
 borrow always something pleasing from their amiable quali- 
 ties ; whereas the amiable qualities of the latter seem 
 always to participate of their vices. Hence it is that these 
 associations exert a powerful influence on our whole con- 
 duct. They foster our love or hatred ; enhance our esteem 
 or contempt ; excite our gratitude or indignation ; and 
 produce those sympathies, those antipathies, or those
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 119 
 
 capricious inclinations, for which we are sometimes sorely 
 puzzled to render a reason. Descartes tells us that through 
 life he had always found a strong predilection for squint 
 eyes, which he explains by the circumstance, that the 
 nursery-maid by whom he had been kindly tended, and to 
 whom as a child he was, consequently, much attached, had 
 this defect." 'S Gravesande, I think it is, who tells us he 
 knew a man, and a man otherwise of sense, who had a 
 severe fall from a waggon; and thereafter he could never 
 enter a waggon without fear and trembling, though he daily 
 used, without apprehension, another and far more dangerous 
 vehicle. A girl once and again sees her mother or maid 
 fainting and vociferating at the appearance of a mouse ; if 
 she has afterwards to escape from danger, she will rather 
 pass through flames than take a patent way, if obstructed 
 by a riilicuhi* mus. A remarkable example of the false 
 judgments arising from this principle of association, is re- 
 corded by Herodotus and Justin, in reference to the war of 
 the Scythians with their slaves. The slaves, after they had 
 repeatedly repulsed several attacks with arms, were incon- 
 tinently put to flight when their masters came out against 
 them with their whips. 
 
 I shall now offer an observation in regard to the appro- 
 priate remedy for this evil influence of Association 
 
 The only mean by which we can become aware of, 
 counteract, and overcome, this besetting 
 weakness of our nature, is Philosophy, 
 u the Phi- the Philosophy of the Human Mind ; and 
 thi8 gtudied ^^ fa the consciousness of 
 
 Mind. 
 
 the individual, and in the history of tho 
 specie*. The philosophy of mind, as studied in the con- 
 sciousness of the individual, exhibits to us the source and
 
 120 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 nature of the illusion. It accustoms us to discriminate 
 the casual, from the necessary, combinations of thought ; it 
 sharpens and corroborates our faculties, encourages our 
 reason to revolt against the blind preformations of opinion, 
 and finally enables us to break through the enchanted 
 circle within which Custom and Association had enclosed 
 us. But in the accomplishment of this end, we are greatly 
 aided by the study of man under the various circumstances 
 which have concurred in modifying his intellectual and moral 
 character. In the great spectacle of history, we behold in 
 different ages and countries the predominance of different 
 systems of association, and these ages and countries are, 
 consequently, distinguished by the prevalence of different 
 systems of opinions. But all is not fluctuating ; and, amid 
 the ceaseless changes of accidental circumstances and pre- 
 carious beliefs, we behold some principles ever active, and 
 some truths always commanding a recognition. We thus 
 obtain the means of discriminating, in so far as our unas- 
 sisted reason is conversant about mere worldly concerns, 
 between what is of universal and necessary certainty, and 
 what is only of local and temporary acceptation ; and, in 
 reference to the latter, in witnessing the influence of an 
 arbitrary association in imposing the most irrational opinions 
 on our fellow-men, our eyes are opened, and we are warned 
 of the danger from the same illusion to ourselves. And as 
 the philosophy of man affords us at once the indication and 
 the remedy of this illusion, so the philosophy of man does 
 this exclusively and alone. Our irrational associations, our 
 habits of groundless credulity and of arbitrary scepticism, 
 find no medicine in the study of aught beyond the domain 
 of mind itself. 
 
 As Goethe has well observed, " Mathematics remove no
 
 WEAKNESS OP FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 121 
 
 prejudice ; they cannot mitigate obstinacy, or temper 
 jwrty-spirit ;" in a word, as to any moral influence upon the 
 mind, they are absolutely null. Hence we may well explain 
 the aversion of Socrates for these studies, if carried beyond 
 a very limited extent. 
 
 The next faculty in order is the Representative, or 
 
 Imagination Proper, which consists in the 
 
 The Representative greater or less power of holding up an 
 
 Faculty, or Imagina- 
 tion Proper. ideal object in the light of consciousness. 
 
 The energy of Representation, though 
 dependent on Retention and Reproduction, is not to be 
 identified with these operations. For though these three 
 functions (I mean Retention, Reproduction, and Represen- 
 tation) immediately suppose, and are immediately dependent 
 on each other, they are still manifestly discriminated as 
 different qualities of mind, inasmuch as they stand to each 
 other in no determinate proportion. We find, for example, 
 in some individuals the capacity of Retention strong, but 
 the Reproductive and Representative Faculties sluggish and 
 weak. In others, again, the Conservative tenacity is feeble, 
 but the Reproductive and Representative energies prompt 
 and vivid ; while in others the power of Reproduction may 
 be vigorous, but what is recalled is never pictured in a clear 
 and distinct consciousness. It will be generally, indeed, 
 admitted, that a strong retentive memory does not infer a 
 prompt recollection ; and still more that a strong memory 
 and a prompt recollection do not infer a vivid imagination. 
 These, therefore, though variously confounded by philoso- 
 phers, we are warranted, I think, in viewing as elementary 
 qualities of mind, which ought to be theoretically distin- 
 guished. Limiting, therefore, the term Imagination to the 
 mere Faculty of Representing in a more or leas vivacious 
 
 7
 
 122 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 manner an ideal object, this Faculty is the source of errors 
 which I shall comprise in the following paragraph. 
 
 IT XII, Imagination, or the Faculty of Representing 
 with more or less vivacity a recalled 
 
 Par. XII. 4. imagi- o bj ec t of cognition, is the source of 
 
 nation, as a . 
 
 loru-ce of Error. Errors, both when it is too languid 
 
 and when it is too vigorous. In the 
 
 former case, the object is respresented obscurely and 
 
 indistinctly ; in the latter, the ideal representation 
 
 affords the illusive appearance of a sensible presentation. 
 
 A strong imagination, that is, the power of holding up 
 
 any ideal object to the mind in clear and 
 
 Explication. steady colors, is a faculty necessary to the 
 
 Necessity of Imagi- , . ' 
 
 nation in scientific P et and to the artlst > but not to them 
 
 pursuits. alone. It is almost equally requisite for 
 
 the successful cultivation of every scien- 
 tific pursuit ; and, though differently applied, and different 
 in the character of its representation, it may well be doubted 
 whether Axistotle did not possess as powerful an imagination 
 as Homer. The vigor and perfection of this faculty is seen, 
 not so much in the representation of individual objects and 
 fragmentary sciences, as in the representation of systems. 
 In the better ages of antiquity the perfection, the beauty, 
 of all works of taste, whether in Poetry, 
 Diverse character- Eloquence, Sculpture, Painting, or Music, 
 
 jstics of art in ancient . . 
 
 wd. modern time*. was principally estimated from the sym- 
 metry or proportion of all the parts to each 
 other, and to the whole which they together constituted ; 
 and it was only in subservience to this general harmony that 
 the beauty of the several parts- was appreciated. In the 
 criticism of modern times, on the contrary, the reverse is 
 true ; and we are disposed to look more to the obtrusive
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 123 
 
 qualities of details, than to the keeping and unison of a 
 whole. Our works of art are, in general, like kinds of 
 assorted patch-work ; not systems of parts all subdued in 
 conformity to one ideal totality, but coordinations of inde- 
 pendent fragments, among which a "purpureu* pannus " 
 seldom comes amiss. The reason of this difference in taste 
 seems to be, what at first sight may seem the reverse, that in 
 antiquity not the Reason but the Imagination was the more 
 vigorous; that the Imagination was able to represent 
 simultaneously a more comprehensive system ; and thus the 
 several parts being regarded and valued only as conducive 
 to the general result, these parts never obtained that indi- 
 vidiril importance, which would have fallen to them had 
 they been only created and only considered for themselves. 
 Now this power of representing lo the mind a complex 
 system in all its bearings, is not less requisite to the philo- 
 sopher than to the poet, though the representation be 
 different in kind ; and the nature of the philosophic repre- 
 sentations, as not concrete and palpable liko the poetical, 
 supposes a more arduous operation, and, therefore, even a 
 more vigorous faculty. But Imagination, in the one case 
 and in the other, requires in proportion to its own power a 
 powerful intellect ; for imagination is not poetry nor philo- 
 sophy, but only the condition of the one and of the other. 
 But to speak now of the Errors which arise from the dis- 
 Krron which *ri*e projwrtiou between the 1 magination and 
 from the dupropor- the Judgment ; they originate either in the 
 
 Uon between Imai- , . , . ,. , - 
 
 nation wad Judg- weakness, or in the inordinate strength, of 
 
 the former. 
 
 UM weHiM ^ n re f5 ar d to the errors which arise from 
 
 riMtioo. the imbecility of the Representative Fa- 
 
 culty, it is not dillicult to conceive how this imbecility
 
 124 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 may become a cause of erroneous judgment. The Ela- 
 borative Faculty, in order to judge, requires an object, 
 requires certain differences to be given. Now, if the 
 imagination be weak and languid, the objects represented 
 by it will be given in such confusion and obscurity, that 
 their differences are either null or evanescent, and judgment 
 thus rendered either impossible, or possible only with the 
 probability of error. In these circumstances, to secure 
 itself from failure, the intellect must not attempt to rise 
 above the actual presentations of sense ; it must not attempt 
 any ideal analysis or synthesis, it must abandon all free 
 and self-active elaboration, and all hope of a successful cul- 
 tivation of knowledge. 
 
 Again, in regard to the opposite errors, those arising from 
 the disproportioned vivacity of imagination, 
 these are equally apparent. In this case 
 
 portionate vivacity. * J rr 
 
 the renewed or newly-modified representa- 
 tions make an equal impression 011 the mind as the original 
 presentations, and are, consequently, liable to be mistaken 
 for these. Even during the perception of real objects, a too 
 lively imagination mingles itself with the observation, which 
 it thus corrupts and falsifies. Thus arises what is logically 
 called the vitium subreptionis. This is frequently seen 
 in those pretended observations made by theorists in support 
 of their hypotheses, in which, if even the possibility be left 
 for imagination to interfere, imagination is sure to fill up all 
 that the senses may leave vacant. In this case the observers 
 are at once dupes and deceivers, in the words of Tacitus, 
 " Fingunt simul creduntque." 
 
 In regard to the remedies for these defects of the Repre- 
 sentative Faculty ; in the former case, the only allevi- 
 ation that can be proposed for a feeble imagination, is to
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 125 
 
 animate it by the contemplation and study of those works 
 
 of art which are the products of a strong 
 
 Remedies for these Phantasy, and which tend to awaken in 
 
 defect* of the Ima- 
 gination. t" e student a corresponding energy of that 
 
 faculty. On the other hand, a too power- 
 ful imagination is to be quelled and regulated by abstract 
 thinking, and the study of philosophical, perhaps of mathe- 
 matical, science. 
 
 The faculty which next follows, is the Elaborative Faculty, 
 Comparison, or the Faculty of Relations. This is the 
 Understanding, in its three functions of Conception, Judg- 
 ment, and Reasoning. On this faculty take the following 
 paragraph. 
 
 1T XIII. The Affections and the ^ Lower Cognitive 
 
 Faculties afford the sources and occa- 
 
 p*r. xni. 5. rim 8 j ons o f error ; but it is the Elabora- 
 
 borativ* Faculty. . _ . _ .. ^ 
 
 .. . .oorc of Er- tlve Facult 7 Understanding, Com- 
 ror. parison, or Judgment, which truly 
 
 errs. This faculty does not, however, 
 err from strength or over-activity, but from inaction ; 
 and this inaction arises either from natural weakness, 
 from want of exercise, or from the imjx)tence of 
 attention. 
 
 Explication. 
 
 I formerly observed that error does not lie in the condi- 
 tions of our higher faculties themselves, 
 and that these faculties are not, by their 
 
 Brror doemot lie in * 
 
 the condition* f our w n "* W 8, determined to false judgments 
 
 Higher Faculties, but or conclusions ; 
 In powible In the ap- 
 plication of the law* " AldiM neque dfdpitur ratio, nee dtcipit unquam." 
 
 of UK** facuitie. u, If thege were otherwise, all knowledge 
 
 determinate 
 
 would l>o iui]K>HHible, the root of our 
 nature would be a lie. " But in the application of the laws
 
 120 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 of our higher faculties to determinate cases, many errors 
 are possible ; and these errors may actually be occasioned by 
 a variety of circumstances. Tims, it is a law of our intelli- 
 gence, that no event, no phenomenon, can be thought as 
 absolutely beginning to be ; we cannot but think that 
 all its constituent elements had a virtual existence prior 
 to their concurrence, to necessitate its manifestation to 
 us ; we are thus unable to accord to it more than a 
 relative commencement, in other words, we are con- 
 strained to look upon it as the effect of antecedent 
 causes. Now though the law itself of our intelligence 
 that a cause there is for every event be altogether exempt 
 from error, yet in the application of this law to individual 
 cases, that is, in the attribution of determinate causes to 
 determinate effects, we are easily liable to go wrong. 
 For we do not know, except from experience and induction, 
 what particular antecedents are the causes of particular con- 
 sequents ; and if our knowledge of this relation be imper- 
 fectly generalized, or if we extend it by a false analogy to 
 cases not included within our observation, error is the 
 inevitable consequence. But in all this there is no fault, no 
 failure, of intelligence, there is only a deficiency, a defi- 
 ciency in the activity of intelligence, while the Will 
 determines us to a decision before the Understanding has 
 become fully conscious of certainty. The 
 Defective action of defective action of the Understanding may 
 
 the Understanding 
 
 may arise from three arise from three causes. In the first place, 
 causes - the Faculty of Judgment may by nature 
 
 (a) Natural feeble- ' . , . . .. , 
 
 ness. (6) Want of " e too feeble. This is the case in idiots 
 necessary experience, and weak persons. In the second place, 
 ^ ) fce ^ peteocy of though not by nature incompetent to judge, 
 the intellect may be without the necessary 
 experience, may not possess the grounds on which a correct
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 127 
 
 judgment must be founded. In the third place, and this 
 is the most frequent cause of error, the failure of the 
 understanding is from the iucompetency of that act of will 
 which is called Attention. Attention is the voluntary 
 direction of the mind upon an object, with the intention of 
 fully apprehending it. The cognitive energy is thus, as it 
 were, concentrated upon a single point. We, therefore, say 
 that the mind collects itself, when it begins to be attentive ; 
 on the contrary, that it is distracted, when its attention is 
 not turned upon an object as it ought to be. This fixing 
 this concentration, ot the mind upon ;ui object can only be 
 carried to a certain degree, and continued for a certain time. 
 This degree and tliis continuance are both dependent upon 
 bodily circumstances ; and they are also frequently inter- 
 rupted or suspended by the intrusion of certain collateral 
 object^ which are forced upon the mind, either from without, 
 by a strong and sudden impression upon the senses, or from 
 vithiu, through the influence of Association ; and these, 
 when once obtruded, gradually or at once divert the attention 
 from the original and principal object. If we are not 
 sufficiently attentive, or if the effort which accompanies the 
 concentration of the mind upon a single object be irksome, 
 there arises hurry and thoughtlessness in judging, inasmuch 
 as we judge either before we have fully sought out the 
 grounds on which our decision ought to proceed, or have 
 competently examined their validity and effect. It is 
 hence manifest that a multitude of errors is the inevitable 
 consequence. 
 
 In regard to the Regulative Faculty, Common Sense, 
 Intelligence, fovv, this is not in itself a source of error. 
 Errors may, however, arise either from overlooking the 
 laws or ncces-iury principle* which it does contaiu ; or by 
 attributing to it, as necessary and original data, what are
 
 128 
 
 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 only contingent generalizations from experience, and, con- 
 sequently, make no part of its comple- 
 e. Regulative Fa- me nt of native truths. But these errors, 
 
 culty, not properly ... . , ., , 
 
 a source of Error ^ ls evic ent, are not to be attributed to 
 the Regulating Faculty itself, which is 
 only a place or source of principles, but to the imperfect 
 operations of the Understanding and Self-consciousness, in 
 not properly observing and sifting the phenomena which it 
 reveals. 
 
 Besides these sources of Error, which immediately origi- 
 nate in the several powers and faculties of 
 Remote sources of mind, there are others of a remoter origin 
 
 Error in the different .... 
 
 habits determinated arising from the different habits which are 
 by sex, age, bodily determined by the differences of sex, of 
 
 constitution, educa- ,. , ,., ' ... ,. f -, ,. ,. 
 
 tion etc. a e > bodily constitution, of education, of 
 
 rank, of fortune, of profession, of intellectual 
 pursuit. Of these, however, it is impossible at present to 
 attempt an analysis ; and I shall only endeavor to afford 
 you a few specimens, and to refer you for information in 
 regard to the others to the best sources. 
 
 Intellectual pursuits or favorite studies, inasmuch as these 
 determine the mind to a one-sided cuitiva- 
 
 Selected examples ti ^ { ^ ^ Qf & ^ 
 
 of these. 
 
 A one-sided euiti- to the disproportioned development of 
 vationofthe inteiiec- Q fa of itg f acu i t i es are among the most 
 
 tual powers. 
 
 This exemplified in remarkable causes of error. This partial 
 three different pha- or one-sided cultivation is exemplified in 
 
 Bes. Exclusive culti- ml _ ' - , 
 
 vation. i. Of the three different phases. Ihe nrst of these 
 powers of Observa- j s shown in the exclusive cultivation of the 
 powers of Observation, to the neglect of 
 the higher faculties of the Understanding. Of this type 
 are your men of physical science. In this department of
 
 WEAKNESS OF FACULTIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 129 
 
 knowledge there is chiefly demanded a patient habit of 
 attention to details, in order to detect phenomena, and, these 
 discovered, their generalization is usually so easy that there 
 is little exercise afforded to the higher energies of Judgment 
 and Reasoning. It was Bacon's boast, that Induction, as 
 applied to nature, would equalize all talents, level the aris- 
 tocracy of genius, accomplish marvels by cooperation and 
 method, and leave little to be done by the force of individual 
 intellects. This boast has been fulfilled. Science has, by 
 the Inductive Process, been brought down to minds, who 
 previously would have been incompetent for its cultivation, 
 and physical knowledge now usefully occupies many who 
 would otherwise have been without any rational pursuit. 
 But the exclusive devotion to such studies, if not combined 
 with higher and graver speculations, tends to wean the 
 student from the more vigorous efforts of mind, which, 
 though minimising and even irksome at the commencement, 
 tend, however, to invigorate his nobler powers, and to pre- 
 pare him for the final fruition of the highest happiness of 
 his intellectual nature. 
 
 A partial cultivation of the intellect, opposite to this, is 
 
 given in the exclusive cultivation of Meta- 
 
 2. or Meuphyi. physics and of Mathematics. On this 
 
 8. Of Mithematio. 
 
 Btwmrt referred to. subject 1 may refer you to some observa- 
 tions of Mr. Stewart, in two chapters 
 entitled The Metaphysician, and The Matftematician, in the 
 third volume of his Element* of the Philosophy of the 
 Human Mind, chapters distinguished equally by their 
 candor and their depth of observation. On this subject 
 Mr. Stewart's authority is of the highest, inasmuch as he 
 was distinguished in both the departments of knowledge, 
 the tendency of which he so well develops.
 
 LECTURE V. MODIFIED STOICHEIOLOGY. 
 
 SECTION II. ERROR ITS CAUSES AND 
 REMEDIES. 
 
 C. LANGUAGE. D. OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 IN my last Lecture, I concluded the survey of the Errors 
 which have their oriin in the conditions 
 
 ' n ^" a e '~ as an( j circumstances of the several Cognitive 
 
 a source of Error. 4 
 
 Faculties, and now proceed to that source 
 
 of false judgment which lies in the imperfection of the Instru- 
 
 ment of thought and Communication, I mean Language. 
 
 Much controversy has arisen in regard to the question, 
 
 Has man invented Language ? But the 
 
 Has man invented differences of opinion have in a great 
 
 Language? Ambigu- 
 
 ity of the question. measure arisen from the ambiguity or 
 complexity of the terms, in which the 
 problem has been stated. By language we may mean either 
 the powpr which man possesses of associating his thought 
 with signs, or the particular systems of signs with which 
 different portions of mankind haye actually so associated 
 their thoughts.
 
 LANGUAGE OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 131 
 
 Taking language in the former sense, it is a natural 
 faculty, an original tendency of mind, and, 
 
 In what sense L*n- fa fofa v i eWj man nas no mO re invented 
 
 guage is natural to . 
 
 language than he has invented thought. 
 
 In fact, the power of thought and the 
 power of language are equally entitled to be considered as 
 elementary qualities of intelligence ; for while they are so 
 different that they cannot be identified, they are still so 
 reciprocally necessary that the one cannot exist without the 
 other. It is true, indeed, that presentations and represent- 
 ations of given individual objects might have taken place, 
 although there were no signs with which they were mentally 
 connected, and by which they could be overtly expressed ; 
 but all complex and factitious constructions out of these 
 given individual objects, in other words, all notions, con- 
 cepts, general ideas, or thoughts proper, would have been 
 impossible without an association to certain signs, by which 
 their scattered elements might be combined in unity, and 
 their vague and evanescent existence obtain a kind of 
 definite and fixed and palpable reality. Speech and cogi<- 
 tation are thus the relative conditions of each other's activity, 
 and both concur to the accomplishment of the same joint 
 result. The Faculty of Thinking the Faculty of forming 
 General Notions being given, this necessarily tends to 
 energy, but the energy of thinking depends upon the co- 
 activity of the Faculty pf Speech, which itself tends equally 
 to energy. These faculties, these tendencies, these ener- 
 gies, thus coexist and have alway coexisted ; and the result 
 of their combined action is thought in language, and lan- 
 guage in thought. Bo much for the origin of Language, 
 considered in general as a faculty.
 
 132 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 But, though the Faculty of Speech be natural and neces- 
 sary, that its manifestations are, to a 
 Was the first, lan- cer tain extent, contingent and artificial, 
 
 guage, actually spo- ... . , 
 
 ken, the invention of ls evident Irom the simple fact, that there 
 man, or an inspira- are more than a single language actually 
 
 tion of the Deity? , T , ,, . 
 
 spoken. It may, therefore, be asked 
 Was the first language, actually spoken. 
 
 The latter hypo- . 
 
 thesis considered. the invention of man, or an inspiration of 
 the Deity 1 The latter hypothesis cuts, 
 but does not loose tha knot. It declares that ordinary 
 causes and the laws of nature are insufficient to explain the 
 phenomenon, but it does not prove this insufficiency ; it 
 thus violates the rule of Parcimony, by postulating a second 
 and hypothetical cause to explain an effect, which it is not 
 shown cannot be accounted for without this violent assump- 
 tion. The first and greatest difficulty in the question is 
 thus : It is necessary to think in order 
 cu y o e j. ^ygj^ a language, and the invention of 
 
 question. 
 
 a language is necessary in order to think ; 
 for we cannot think without notions, and notions are only 
 fixed by words. This can only be solved, as I have said, 
 by the natural attraction between thought and speech, 
 by their secret affinity, which is such that they suggest and, 
 pari passu, accompany each other. And in regard to the 
 question, Why, if speech be a natural faculty, it does not 
 manifest itself like other natural principles in a uniform 
 manner, it may be answered that the Faculty of Speech 
 is controlled and modified in its exercise by external circum- 
 stances, in consequence of which, though its exertion be 
 natural and necessary, and, therefore, identical in all men, 
 the special forms of its exertion are in a great degree, con-
 
 LANGUAGE OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 133 
 
 ventional and contingent, and, therefore, different among 
 different portions of mankind. 
 
 Considered on one sido, languages are the results of our 
 
 intelligence and its immutable laws. In 
 
 Language has a consequence of this, they exhibit in their 
 
 general and a special 
 
 progress and development resemblances 
 
 and common characters which allow us to 
 compare and to recall them to certain primitive and 
 essential forms, to evolve a system of Universal Grammar. 
 Considered on another side, each language is the offspring 
 of particular wants, of special circumstances, physical and 
 moral, and of chance. Hence it is that every language has 
 particular forms as it has peculiar words. Language thus 
 bears the impress of human intelligence only in its general 
 outlines. There is, therefore, to be found reason and phi- 
 losophy in all languages, but we should be wrong in be- 
 lieving that reason and philosophy have, in any language, 
 determined everything. No tongue, how perfect soever it 
 may appear, is a complete and perfect 
 No language it * instrument of human thought. From its 
 
 perfect instrument of . . . 
 
 thought. very conditions every language must be 
 
 imperfect. The human memory can only 
 compass a limited complement of words, but the data of 
 sense, and still more the combinations of the understanding, 
 are wholly unlimited in number. No language can, there- 
 fore, be adequate to the ends for which it exists ; all are 
 imjerfect, but some are far less incompetent instruments 
 than others. 
 
 From what has now been said, you will be prepared to 
 find in Languaue one of the principal sources of Error ; but 
 before I go on to consider the particular modes in which 
 the Imperfections of Language are the causes of false
 
 134 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 judgments, I shall comprise the general doctrine in the 
 following paragraph : 
 
 IT XIV. As the human mind necessarily requires 
 the aid of signs to elaborate, to fix, 
 
 Par. xiv. Lan- alu j to communicate its notions, and 
 
 gnage, as a source 
 
 of Error. &s Articulate Sounds are the species 
 
 of signs which most effectually afford 
 this aid, Speech is, therefore, an indispensable instru- 
 ment in the higher functions of thought and knowledge. 
 But as speech is a necessary, but not a perfect, instru- 
 ment, its imperfection must react upon the mind. For 
 the Multitude of Languages, the Difficulty of their 
 Acquisition, their necessary Inadequacy, and the con- 
 sequent Ambiguity of Words, both singly and in com- 
 bination, these are all copious sources of Illusion and 
 Error. 
 
 We have already sufficiently considered the reason why 
 
 thought is dependent upon some system of 
 
 Explication. signs or symbols both for its internal per- 
 
 Signs necessary for . 
 
 the internal opera- fection and external expression. The 
 tion of Thought. analyses and syntheses, the decomposi- 
 tions and compositions, in a word, the 
 elaborations, performed by the Understanding Tipon the 
 objects presented by External Perception and Self- Conscious- 
 ness, and represented by Imagination, these operations are 
 faint and fugitive, and would have no existence, even for 
 the conscious mind, beyond the moment of present con- 
 sciousness, were we not able to connect, to ratify, and to fix 
 them, by giving to their parts (which would otherwise 
 immediately fall asunder) a permanent unity, by associating 
 them with a sensible symbol, which we may always recall at 
 pleasure, and which, when recalled, recalls along with it the
 
 LANGUAGE OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 135 
 
 characters which concur in constituting a notion or factitious 
 object of intelligence. So far signs are necessary for the 
 internal operation of thought itself. But for the communi- 
 cation of thought from one mind to another, signs are 
 equally indispensable. For in itself thought is known, 
 thought it is knowable, only to the thinking 
 
 Ami for the commit- . ., .. j i i j j. 
 
 nication of Thought. mmd ltself '* and WCre WC nOt enabled to 
 
 connect certain complements of thought to 
 certain sensible symbols, and by their means to suggest in 
 other minds those complements of thought of which we 
 were conscious in ourselves, we should never be able to 
 communicate to others what engaged our interest, and man 
 would remain for man, if an intelligence at all, a mere 
 isolated intelligence. 
 
 In regard to the question, What may these sensible 
 symbols be, by which we are to compass such memorable 
 effects, it is needless to show that mien and gesture, which, 
 to a certain extent, afford a kind of natural expression, are 
 altogether inadequate to the double purpose of thought and 
 communication, which it is here required to accomplish. 
 This double purpose can be effected only by symbols, which 
 express, through intonations of the voice, 
 
 intonation* of the what is passing in the mind. These vocal 
 Tok "^ on} y "**- intonations are either inarticulate or arti- 
 
 quatc neniible yro- 
 
 bou of thought and culate. The former are mere sounds or 
 lu communication. cries \ and, as such, an expression of the 
 v i ir . , , llt , feelings of which the lower animals are 
 
 The utter conxtitute also capable. The latter constitute words, 
 
 and these, as the expression of thoughts or 
 ource of Error. notions, constitute Language Pro]>er or 
 
 Speech. Speech, as we have said, as the 
 instrument of elaborating, fixing, and communicating oui
 
 136 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 thoughts, is a principal mean of knowledge, and even the 
 indispensable condition on which depends the exercise of 
 our higher cognitive faculties. But, at the same time, in 
 consequence of this very dependence of thought upon lan- 
 guage, inasmuch as language is itself not perfect, the under- 
 standing is not only restrained in its operations, and its 
 higher development, consequently, checked, but many occa- 
 sions are given of positive error. For, to say nothing of the 
 impediment presented to the free communication of thought 
 by the multitude of tongues into which human language is 
 divided, in consequence of which all speech beyond their 
 mother-tongue is incomprehensible to those who do not make 
 a study of other languages, even the accurate learning of 
 a single language is attended with such difficulties, that 
 perhaps there never yet has been an individual who was 
 thoroughly acquainted with all the words and modes of 
 verbal combination in any single language, his mother- 
 tongue even not excepted. But the circumstance of prin- 
 cipal importance is, that how copious and 
 
 The ambiguity of / . 
 
 words the principal expressive soever it may be, no language 
 source of error origi- i s competent adequately to denote all pos- 
 
 nating hi Language. 
 
 sible notions, and all possible relations ot 
 notions, and from this necessary poverty of language in all its 
 different degrees, a certain inevitable ambiguity arises, both 
 in the employment of single words and of words in mutual 
 connection. 
 
 As this is the principal source of the error originating in 
 
 Language, it will be proper to be a little 
 
 Two circumstances . . . . , . . , . 
 
 under this head, more explicit. And here it is expedient 
 
 which mutually affect to take into account two circumstances, 
 
 which mutually affect each other. The 
 
 first is, that as the vocabulary of every language is neces-
 
 LANGUAGE OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 137 
 
 sarily finite, it is necessarily disproportion ed to the multi- 
 plicity, not to say infinity, of thought ; and the second, 
 that the complement of words in any given language has 
 been always filled up with terms significant of objects 
 and relations of the external world, before the want was 
 experienced of words to express the objects and relations of 
 the internal. 
 
 From the first of these circumstances, considered exclu- 
 sively and by itself, it is manifest that one 
 Th vocabulary of of two, alternatives must take place. 
 
 every language neces- Ether the wordfj of a l an g,, a g e must ^^ 
 sarily finite. Conse- 
 quences of this, designate only a single notion, a single 
 
 fasciculus of thought, the multitude of 
 notions not designated being allowed to perish, never 
 obtaining more than a momentary existence in the mind of 
 the individual ; or the words of a language must each be 
 employed to denote a plurality of concepts. In the former 
 case, a small amount of thought would be expressed, but 
 that precisely and without ambiguity ; in the latter, a large 
 amount of thought would be expressed, but that vaguely 
 and equivocally. Of these alternatives (each of which has 
 thus its advantages and disadvantages), the latter is the one 
 which has universally been preferred ; and, accordingly, all 
 languages by the same word express a multitude of thoughts, 
 more or Ions differing from each othor. Now, what is the 
 consequence of this ? It is plain that if a word has more 
 than a single meaning attached to it, when it is employed 
 it cunnot of itself directly and peremptorily suggest any 
 definite thought ; all that it can do is vaguely and hy|K> 
 thetically to suggest a variety of different notions ; and we 
 are obliged from the consideration of the context, of the 
 tenor, of the general analogy, of the discourse, to surmise,
 
 138 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 with greater or less assurance, with greater or less precision, 
 
 what particular bundle of characters it was intended to 
 
 convey. Words, in fact, as languages are 
 
 Words are merelv ., , , , , 1 . ,, 
 
 ... . constituted, do nothing more than suggest, 
 
 hints to the mind. 
 
 are nothing more than hints ; hints, like- 
 wise, which leave the principal part of the process of inter- 
 pretation, to be performed by the mind of the hearer. In 
 this respect, the effect of words resemblesTthe effect of an 
 outline or shade of a countenance with which we are 
 familiar. In both cases, the mind is stimulated to fill up 
 what is only hinted or pointed at. Thus it is that the 
 function of language Is not so much to infuse knowledge 
 from one intelligence to another, as to bring two minds into 
 the same train of thinking, and to confine them, to the same 
 track. lu this procedure what is chiefly wonderful, is the 
 rapidity with which the mind compares the word with its 
 correlations, and in general, without the slightest effort, 
 decides which among its various meanings is the one which 
 it is here intended to convey. But how marvellous soever 
 be the ease and velocity of this process of selection, it can- 
 not always be performed with equal certainty. Words are 
 often employed with a plurality of meanings ; several of 
 which may quadrate, or be supposed to quadrate, with the 
 general tenor of the discourse. Error is thus possible ; and 
 it is also probable, if we have any prepossession in favor of 
 one interpretation rather than of another. So copious a 
 source of error is the ambiguity of language, that a very 
 large proportion of human controversy has been concerning 
 the sense in which certain terms should be understood ; 
 and many disputes have even been fiercely waged, in con- 
 sequence of the disputants being unaware that they agreed 
 in opinion, and only differed in the meaning they attached
 
 LANGUAGE OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 139 
 
 \ 
 
 to the words in which that opinion was expressed. On this 
 subject I may refer you to the very amusing and very in- 
 structive treatise of Werenfelsius, entitled De Logomachiis 
 Mnditorum. 
 
 In regard to a remedy for this description of error, this 
 
 lies exclusively in a thorough study of the 
 
 Remedy for error language employed in the communication 
 
 rising from Lan- f 
 
 guage. of knowledge, and in an acquaintance 
 
 with the rules of Criticism and Interpre- 
 tation. The study of languages, when rationally pursued, 
 is not so unimportant as many fondly conceive ; for mis- 
 conceptions most frequently arise solely from an ignorance 
 of words ; and every language may, in a certain sort, be 
 viewed as a commentary upon Logic, inasmuch as every 
 language, in like manner, mirrors in itself the laws of 
 thought. 
 
 In reference to the rules of Criticism and Interpretation, 
 these especially should be familiar to those who make a 
 study of the writings of ancient authors, as these writings 
 have descended to us often in a very mutilated state, and 
 are composed in languages which are now dead. How many 
 theological errors, for example, have only arisen because the 
 divines were either ignorant of the principles of Criticism 
 and Hermeneutic, or did not properly apply them ! Doc- 
 trines originating in a corrupted lection, or in a figurative 
 expression, have thus arisen and been keenly defended. 
 Such errors are best combated by philological weapons ; for 
 these pull them up along with their roots. 
 
 A thorough knowledge of languages in genenil accustoms 
 the mind not to remain satisfied with the husk, but to pen- 
 etrate in, even to the kernel. With this knowledge we 
 bhall not so easily imagine that we understand a system,
 
 140 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 when we only possess the language in which it is expressed ; 
 we shall not conceive that we truly reason, when we 
 only employ certain empty words and formulae ; we shall 
 not betray ourselves into unusual and obscure expressions, 
 under which our meaning may be easily mistaken ; finally, 
 we shall not dispute with others about words, when we are 
 in fact at one with them in regard to things. So much for 
 the errors which originate in Language. 
 
 As to the last source of Error which I enumerated, the 
 
 Objects themselves of our knowledge, it 
 
 iv. Source of Error, is hardly necessary to say anything. It is 
 
 the Objects of our 
 
 Knowledge. evident that some matters are obscure and 
 
 abstruse, while others are clear and pal- 
 pable ; and that, consequently, the probability of error is 
 greater in some studies than it is in others. But as it is 
 impossible to deliver any special rules for these cases, differ- 
 ent from those which are given for the Acquisition of 
 Knowledge in general, concerning which we are soon to 
 speak, this source of error may be, therefore, passed over 
 in silence. 
 
 We have now thus finished the consideration of the 
 various Sources of Error, and 
 
 IT XV. The following rules may be given, as the results 
 
 of the foregoing discussion, touching 
 
 Par. XV. Rules ^ Cauges and ft erne( iies o f our False 
 
 touching the Causes 
 
 and Remedies of Judgments. 
 
 our False Jndg- jo Endeavor as f ar ag possible to 
 
 dents* 
 
 obtain a clear and thorough insight 
 into the laws of the Understanding, and of the Mental 
 Faculties in general. Study Logic and Psychology. 
 
 2, Assiduously exercise your mind in the application 
 of these laws. Learn to think methodically.
 
 LANGUAGE OBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 141 
 
 3, Concentrate your attention in the act of Thinking ; 
 and principally employ the seasons when the Intellect 
 is alert, the Passions slumbering, and no external causes 
 of distraction at work. 
 
 4, Carefully eliminate all foreign interests from the 
 objects of your enquiry, and allow yourselves to be 
 actuated by the interest of Truth alone. 
 
 5, Contrast your various convictions, your past and 
 present judgments, with each other ; and admit no 
 conclusion as certain, until it has been once and again 
 thoroughly examined, and its correctness ascertained. 
 
 6, Collate your own persuasions with those of 
 others ; attentively listen to and weigh, without pre- 
 possession, the judgments formed by others of the 
 opinions which you yourselves maintain.
 
 VL MODIFIED METHODOLOGY, 
 
 SECTION I. OF THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 I. EXPERIENCE. A. PERSONAL : OBSERVATION 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 
 
 Is our last Lecture, having concluded the Second Depart- 
 ment of Concrete Logic,-^-that which treats 
 Meansby which our of the c ause8 o f Error, we now enter 
 
 knowledge obtains . 
 
 the character of Per- u pon the Third part of Concrete or Modi- 
 fection, viz., the AC- ne <j Logic, that which considers the Means 
 
 qnisition and the , i > i -rr 11 i i j.i \ 
 
 communication of b 7 whlch our Knowledge obtains the, char- 
 Knowledge. acter of Perfection. These means may, 
 
 in general, be regarded as two, the Acqui- 
 sition and the Communication of knowledge, and these 
 two means we shall, accordingly, consider consecutively 
 and apart. 
 
 In regard to the Acquisition of Knowledge, we must 
 
 consider this by reference to the different 
 
 The acquisition of kinds Qf knowledge of which the human 
 Knowledge. 
 
 intellect is capable. And this, viewed in 
 
 its greatest universality, is of two species. 
 
 Human knowledge, I say, viewed in its greatest univer- 
 sality, is of two kinds. For either it is 
 
 Human Knowledge Qne f ^^^ ^ Q objects are given as con- 
 
 of two kinds. 
 
 tingent phsenomena, or one in which the 
 objects are given as necessary facts or laws. In the former
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 143 
 
 case, the cognitions are called empirical, experiential, or of 
 experience ; in the latter, pure, intuitive, rational, or of 
 reason, also of common sense. These two kinds of know- 
 ledge are, likewise, severally denominated cognitions a 
 posteriori and cognitions a priori. The distinction of these 
 two species of cognitions consists properly in this, that the 
 former are solely derived from the Presentations of Sense, 
 External and Internal ; whereas the latter, though first 
 manifested on the occasion of such Presentations, are not, 
 however, mere products of Sense ; on the contrary, they are 
 laws, principles, forms, notions, or by whatever name they 
 may be called, native and original to the mind, that is, 
 founded in, or constituting the very nature of, Intelligence ; 
 and, accordingly, out of the mind ntself they must be 
 developed, and not sought for and acquired as foreign and 
 accidental acquisitions. As the Presentative Faculties 
 inform us only of what exists and what happens, that is, 
 only of facts and events, such empirical knowledge consti- 
 tutes no necessary and universal judgment ; all, in this case, 
 is contingent and particular, for even our generalized know- 
 ledge has only a relative and precarious universality. The 
 cognitions, on the other hand, which are given as Laws of 
 Mind, are, at once and in themselves, universal and neces- 
 sary. We cannot but think them, if we 
 DoctrinofthAc- think at all. The doctrine, therefore, of 
 
 quisltlun of Know- , ... - ,., , . 
 
 led*, conibu of two the Acquisition of Knowledge, must con- 
 prt. sist of two parts, the first treating of 
 
 the acquisition of knowledge through the 
 data of experience, the second, of the acquisition of 
 knowledge through the data of Intelligence.
 
 144 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 In regard to the first of these sources, viz., Experience, * 
 
 this is either our own experience or the 
 
 I. The doctrine of experience of others, and in either case 
 
 Experience. Expert- . . 
 
 ence of two kinds, i* is fo r u a mean of knowledge. It is 
 manifest that the knowledge we acquire 
 through our personal experience, is far superior in degree to 
 that which we obtain through the experience of other men ; 
 inasmuch as our knowledge of an object, in the former case, 
 is far clearer and more distinct, far more complete and 
 lively, than in the latter ; while at the same time the latter 
 also affords us a far inferior conviction of the correctness 
 and certainty of the cognition than the former. On the other 
 hand, foreign is far superior to our proper experience in 
 this, that it is much more comprehensive, and that, with- 
 out this, man would be deprived of those branches of 
 knowledge which are to him of the most indispensable 
 importance. Now, as the principal distinction of experience 
 is thus into our own experience and into the experience of 
 others, we must consider it more closely in this two-fold 
 relation. First, then, of our Personal Experience. 
 
 Experience necessarily supposes, as its primary condition, 
 certain presentations by the faculties of External or of 
 Internal Perception, and is, therefore, of 
 i. Person*! Ex- * w kinds, according as it is conversant 
 perience. about the objects of the one of these 
 
 faculties, or the objects of the other. But 
 the presentation cf a fact of the external or of the 
 internal w6rld is not at once an experience. To this 
 there is required a continued series of such presenta- 
 tions, a comparison of these together, a mental separation 
 of the different, a mental combination of the similar, and 
 it, therefore, over and above the operation of the Preseiita^
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 145 
 
 tive Faculties, requires the cooperation of the Retentive, 
 the Reproductive, the Representative, and the Elaborative 
 Faculties. In regard to Experience, as the first means by 
 which we acquire knowledge through the legitimate use 
 and application of our Cognitive Faculties, I give you the 
 following paragraph : 
 
 1T XVI. The First Mean towards the Acquisition 
 of Knowledge is Experience (experi- 
 
 Par. xvi. Ex- gntia, e/xTTcipia). Experience may be, 
 
 perienc.; what,- 
 
 in general. rudely and generally, described as the 
 
 apprehension of the phenomena of 
 the outer world, presented by the Faculty of External 
 Perception, and of the phenomena of the inner world, 
 presented by the Faculty of Self -consciousness ; these 
 phenomena being retained in Memory, ready for Re- 
 production and Representation, being also arranged 
 into order by the Understanding. 
 
 This paragraph, you will remark, affords only a prelim- 
 inary view of the general conditions of 
 
 Explication. . 
 
 Experience. In the first place, it is evident, 
 that without the Preseutative, or, as they may with equal 
 propriety be called, the Acquisitive, Faculties of Perception, 
 External and Internal, no experience would be possible. 
 But these faculties, though affording the fundamental con- 
 dition of knowledge, do not of themselves make up 
 experience. There is, moreover, required of the phenomena 
 or appearances the accumulation and retention, the repro- 
 duction and representation. Memory, Reminiscence, and 
 Imagination must, therefore, also cooperate, Finally, 
 unless the phenomena be compared together, and be 
 arranged into classes, according to their similarities and 
 differences, it is evident that no judgments, no conclusions, 
 8
 
 146 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 can be formed concerning them ; but -without a judgment 
 knowledge is impossible ; and as experience is a knowledge, 
 consequently experience is impossible. The Understanding 
 or Elaborative Faculty must, therefore, likewise cooperate. 
 Manilius has well expressed the nature of experience in the 
 following lines. 
 
 " Pervarios iwts artem experientia fecit, 
 Exemplo monstrante viam. " 
 
 And Afranras in the others : 
 
 " Ueus me genuit, mater peperit Memoria ; 
 Sophiam voeant me Gran, vos Sapientiam. " 
 
 Our own observation, be it external or internal, is 
 
 either with, or without, intention ; and it 
 
 Common and Sci- go^gi^g either of a series of Presentations 
 
 entific Experience. 
 
 alone, or Abstraction and Reflection super- 
 
 rene, so that the presentations obtain that completion and 
 
 system which they do not of themselves possess. In the 
 
 former case, the experience may be called an Unlearned or 
 
 Common ; in the latter, a I/earned or Scientific Experience. 
 
 Intentional and reflective experience is called Observation. 
 
 Observation is of two kinds ; for either 
 
 observation wfcat. ^h e objects which it considers remain un- 
 
 Of two kinds. Ob- . , . ., .. 
 
 changed, or, previous to its application, 
 
 Experiment. they are made to undergo certain arbi- 
 
 trary change^ or are placed in certain 
 factitious relations. In the latter case, the observation 
 contains the specific name of Experiment. Observation and 
 experiment do not, therefore, constitute opposite or two 
 different procedures, the latter is, in propriety, only a 
 certain subordinate modification of the former ; for, while 
 observation may accomplish its end without experiment, ex-
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 147 
 
 periment without observation is impossible. Observation 
 and experiment are manifestly exclusively competent upon 
 the objects of our empirical knowledge ; and they corporate, 
 equally and in like manner, to the progress of that know- 
 ledge, partly by establishing, partly by correcting, partly by 
 amplifying it. Under observation, therefore, is not to be 
 understood a common or unlearned experience, which 
 obtrudes itself upon every one endowed with the ordinary 
 faculties of Sense and Understanding, but an intentional 
 and continued application of the faculties of Perception, 
 combined with an abstractive and reflective attention to an 
 object or class of objects, a more accurate knowledge of 
 which, it is proposed, by the observation, to accomplish. 
 But in order that the observation should accomplish this 
 end, more especially when the objects are numerous and a 
 systematic complement of cognitions is the end proposed, 
 
 it is necessary that we should know ccr- 
 ^ toin pwecognita, 1, Wha * * g"t to 
 
 observe; 2, How we ought to observe; and 
 3, By what means are the data of observation to be re- 
 duced to system. The first of these concerns the Object ; 
 the second, the Procedure ; the third, the scientific Comple- 
 tion of the observations. It is proper to make some 
 general observations in regard to these, in their order ; and 
 first, of the Object of observation, the what we ought to 
 observe. 
 
 The Object of Observation can only be some given and 
 
 determined phenomenon, and this phseno- 
 Fit, The objct menon either an external or an internal. 
 Tbu fourfold Through observation, whether external or 
 
 internal, there are four several cognitions 
 which we propose to compass, viz., to ascertain 1, What
 
 148 MODIFIED LOGIC* 
 
 the Phenomena themselves are ; 2, What are the Condi- 
 tions of their Reality ; 3, What are the Causes of their 
 Existence ; 4, What is the Order of their Consecution. 
 In regard to what the phenomena themselves are (quid 
 sint), that is, in regard to what consti- 
 
 1, What the Phae- .1 ,. ,,. .. . 
 
 tutes their peculiar nature. this, it is 
 nomena are. 
 
 evident, must be the primary matter of 
 consideration, it being always supposed that the fact (the 
 an sit) of the phenomenon itself has been established. To 
 this there is required, above all, a clear and distinct Presen- 
 tation or Representation of the object. In order to obtain 
 this, it behooves us to analyze, to dis- 
 in their individual me mber, the constituent parts of the 
 
 peculiarities and con- , . . 
 
 trastg object, and to take into proximate account 
 
 those characters which constitute the ob- 
 ject, that is, which make it to be what it is, and nothing 
 but what it is. This being performed, we must proceed to 
 compare it with other objects, and with those especially 
 which bear to it the strongest similarity, taking accurate 
 note always of those points in which they reciprocally 
 resemble and in which they reciprocally disagree. 
 
 But it is not enough to consider the several phsenomena 
 in their individual peculiarities and con- 
 As under determi- trasts, in what they are. and in what they 
 
 nate genera and spe- . . . . . , . 
 
 cies are not, it is also requisite to bring them 
 
 under determinate genera and species. To 
 this end we must, having obtained (as previously pre- 
 scribed) a clear and distinct knowledge of the several 
 phenomena in their essential similarities and differences, 
 look away or abstract from the latter, the differences, and 
 comprehend the former, the similarities, in a compendious 
 and characteristic notion, under an appropriate name.
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 149 
 
 When the distinctive peculiarities of the phenomena 
 
 have been thus definitely recognized, the 
 
 2 1 , what the Con- second question emerges, What are the 
 
 ditions of their Re- ^ 
 
 ^uty. Conditions of their Reality. These con- 
 
 ditions are commonly called Requisites^ 
 and under requisite we must understand all that must have 
 preceded, before the phaenomena could follow. In order to 
 discover the requisites, we take a number of analogous 
 cases, or cases similar in kind, and inquire what are the 
 circumstances under which the phaenomena always arises, 
 if it does arise, and what are the circumstances under 
 which it never arises ; and then, after a competent ob- 
 servation of individual cases, we construct the general 
 judgment, that the phenomenon never occurs unless this or 
 that other phenomenon has preceded, or at least accom- 
 panied, it. Here, however, it must be noticed, that nothing 
 can be viewed as a requisite which admits of any, even the 
 smallest, exception. 
 
 The requisite conditions being discovered, the third ques- 
 tion arises, What are the Causes of the 
 y, what the c*ie PhaenomeBa. According to the current. 
 
 of the Phenomena. , 
 
 doctrine, the causes of phaenomena are 
 not to be confounded with their requisites ; for although a 
 phenomenon no more occurs without its requisite than 
 without its cause, still, the requisite being given, the 
 phenomenon does not necessarily follow, and, indeed, very 
 frequently does not ensue. On the contrary, if the cause 
 occurs, the phenomenon must occur also. In other words, 
 the requisite or condition is that without which the pheno- 
 menon never is ; the cause, on the other hand, is that 
 through which it always is. Tims an emotion of pity never 
 rises without a knowledge of the misfortune of another ; 
 but so little does this knowledge necessitate that emotion,
 
 150 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 that its opposite, a feeling of rejoicing, complacency, at 
 such suffering may ensue ; whereas the knowledge of 
 another's misfortune must be followed by a sentiment of 
 pity, if we are predisposed in favor of the person to whom 
 the misfortune has occurred. In this view, the knowledge 
 of another's misfortune is only a requisite ; whereas our 
 favorable predisposition constitutes the cause. It must, 
 however, be admitted, that in different relations one and 
 the same circumstance may be both requisite and cause ; 
 and, in point of fact, it would be more coi-rect to consider 
 the cause as the whole sum of antecedents, without which 
 the phenomenon never does take place, and with which it 
 always must. What are commonly called requisites, are 
 thus, in truth, only partial causes ; what are called causes, 
 only proximate requisites. 
 
 In the fourth place, having ascertained the essential 
 qualities, the Conditions and the Causes 
 of phenomena, a final question emerges, 
 What is the Order in which they are 
 manifested ? and this being ascertained, the observation has 
 accomplished its end. This question applies either to a 
 phenomenon considered in itself, or to a phenomenon con- 
 sidered in relation to others. In relation to itself, the 
 question concerns only the time of its origin, of its con- 
 tinuance, and of its termination ; in relation to others, 
 it concerns the reciprocal consecution in which the several 
 phenomena appear. 
 
 We now go on to the second Precognitum, the Manner 
 
 of Observation, How we are to observe. 
 
 Sec ^'~ The t 1Ian - What' we have hitherto spoken of the 
 
 ner of Observation. r 
 
 Object can be known only in one way, 
 the way of Scientific Observation. It thei'efore remains to
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 151 
 
 be asked, How must the observation be instituted, so as 
 to afford us a satisfactory result in regard to all the four 
 sides on which it behooves an object to be observed 1 In 
 the first place, as preliminary to observa- 
 tion, it is required that the observing mind 
 
 the observing mind. 
 
 be tranquil and composed, be exempt from 
 prejudice, partiality, and prepossession, and be actuated by 
 no other interest than the discovery of truth. Tranquility 
 and composure of mind are of peculiar importance in our 
 observation of the phenomena of the internal world ; for 
 these phenomena are not, like those of the external, per. 
 oeptible by sense, enclosed in space, continuous and divi- 
 sible ; and they follow each other in such numbers, and with 
 such a rapidity, that they are at best observable with 
 difficulty, often losing even their existence by the inter- 
 ference of the observing, the reflective energy, itself. 
 But that the observation should be always conducted in the 
 calm and collected state of mind required to purify this 
 condition, we must be careful to obtain, more and more, a 
 mastery over the Attention, so as to turn it with full force 
 upon a single aspect of the phenomena, and, consequently, 
 to abstract it altogether from every other. Its proper 
 function is to contemplate the objects of observation tran- 
 quilly, continuously, and without anxiety for the result ; 
 and this, likewise, without too intense an activity or too 
 vigorous an application of its forces. But the observation 
 and concomitant energy of attention will be without result, 
 unless we previously well consider what precise object or 
 objects we are now to observe. Nor will our experience 
 obtain an answer to the question proposed for it to solve, 
 unless that question be of such a nature as will animate the 
 observing faculties by some stimulus, and give them a
 
 152 
 
 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 determinate direction. Where this is not the case, atten- 
 tion does not effect anything, nay, it does 
 2% Conditions of the not operate at all. On this account such 
 
 question to be deter- , , . . . 
 
 mined by the obser- psychological questions as the following : 
 vation. What takes place in the process of Self- 
 
 conscieusness, of Perception, of Vision, 
 of Hearing, of Imagination, etc., cannot be answered, as 
 thus absolutely stated, that is, without reference to some 
 determinate object. But if I propose the problem, What 
 takes place when I see this or that object, or better still, 
 when I see this table, the attention is stimulated and 
 directed, and even a child can give responses, which, if pro- 
 perly illustrated and explained, will afford a solution to the 
 problem. If, therefore, the question upon the object of 
 observation be too vague and general, so that the attention 
 is not suitably excited and applied, this question must be 
 divided and subdivided into others more particular, and this 
 process must be continued until we reach a question which 
 affords the requisite conditions. We should, therefore, 
 determine as closely as possible the object itself, and the 
 phases in which we wish to observe it, separate from it all 
 foreign or adventitious parts, resolve every question into its 
 constituent elements, enunciate each of these as specially as 
 possible, and never couch it in vague and general expres- 
 sions. But here we must at the same time take care that 
 the object be not so torn and mangled that the attention feels 
 no longer any attraction to the several parts, or that the 
 several parts can no longer be viewed in their natural con- 
 nection. So much it is possible to say in general, touching 
 the Manner in which observation ought to be carried on ; 
 what may further be added under this head, depends upon 
 the particular nature of the objects to be observed.
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 153 
 
 In tliis manner, then, must we proceed, until all has been 
 accomplished which the problem, to be answered by the 
 observation, pointed out. When the observation is con- 
 cluded, an accurate record or notation of what has been 
 observed is of use, in order to enable us to supply what is 
 found wanting in our subsequent observation. If we have 
 accumulated a considerable apparatus of results, in relation 
 to the object we observe, it is proper to take a survey of 
 these ; from what is found defective, new questions must be 
 evolved, and an answer to these sought out through new 
 observations. When the inquiry has attained its issue, a 
 tabular view of all the observations made upon the subject 
 is convenient, to afford a conspectus of the whole, and as an 
 aid to the memory. But how (and this is the Third Precog- 
 nitiou) individual observations are to be 
 Third,-Tbe means ^uilt up into a systematic whole, is to be 
 
 by which the d*U of f * ' . 
 
 sought <> r partly from the nature of science 
 
 uuu. in general, partly from, the nature of the 
 particular empirical science for the consti- 
 tution of which the observation is applied. Nor is what is 
 thus sought difficult to find. It is at once evident, that a 
 synthetic arrangement is least applicable in the empirical 
 sciences. For, anterior to observation, the object is abso- 
 lutely unknown ; and it is only through observation that it 
 becomes a matter of science. \V e can, therefore, only go to 
 work in a problematic or interrogative manner, and it is 
 impossible to commence by assertory propositions, of which 
 we afterwards lead the demonstration. We must, therefore, 
 delermine the objects on all sides, in so far as observation is 
 competent to this ; we must analyze every question into its 
 subordinate questions, and each of these must find its an- 
 swer iu observation. The systematic order is thus given 
 8*
 
 154 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 naturally and of itself ; and in this procedure it is impossible 
 that it should not be given. But for a comprehensive and 
 all-sided system of empirical knowledge, it is not sufficient 
 to possess the whole data of observation, to have collected 
 these together, and to have arranged them according to some 
 external principle ; it is, likewise, requisite that we have a 
 thorough-going principle of explanation, even though this 
 explanation be impossible in the way of observation, and a 
 power of judging of the data, according to universal laws, 
 although these universal laws may not be discovered by 
 experience alone. These two ends are accomplished by 
 different means. The former we compass by the aid of 
 Hypothesis, the latter, by the aid of Induction and Analogy. 
 Of these in detail. In regard to Hypothesis, I give you the 
 following paragraph. 
 
 H XVII. When a phenomenon is presented, which 
 can be explained by no principle 
 pfthes J-^haf 7 " afforded through Experience, we feel 
 discontented and uneasy ; and there 
 arises an effort to discover some ca\ise which may, at 
 least provisorily, account for the outstanding pheno- 
 menon ; and this cause is finally recognized as valid 
 and true, if, through it, the given phenomenon is 
 found to obtain a full and perfect explanation. The 
 judgment in which a phenomenon is referred to such 
 a problematic cause, is called an Hypothesis. 
 Hypotheses have thus no other end than to satisfy the 
 desire of the mind to reduce the objects of its 
 Explication. knowledge to unity and system ; and they 
 
 Hypothesis,-ite *v 7 t / 
 
 end do this in recalling them, ad interim, to 
 
 some principle, through which the mind is 
 enabled to comprehend them. From this view of their
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 155 
 
 nature, it is manifest how far they are permissible, and how 
 far they are even useful and expedient ; throwing altogether 
 out of account the possibility, that what is at first assumed 
 as Jiypothetical, may, subsequently, be proved true. 
 
 When our experience has revealed to us a certain corres- 
 pondence among a number of objects, we are determined, 
 by an original principle of our nature, to suppose the 
 existence of a more extensive correspondence than our 
 observation has already proved, or may ever be able to 
 establish. This tendency to generalize our knowledge by 
 the judgment, that where much has been found accordant, 
 all will be found accordant, is not properly a conclusion 
 deduced from premises, but an original principle, of our 
 nature, which we may call that of Logical, or perhaps 
 better, that of Philosophical, Presumption. This Presump- 
 tion is of two kinds ; it is either Induction or Analogy, 
 which, though usually confounded, are, however, to be care- 
 fully distinguished. I shall commence the consideration of 
 these by the following paragraph. 
 
 H XVIII. If we have uniformly observed that a 
 
 number of objects of the same class 
 
 Par. xviii. in- (genus or species) possess in common 
 
 duction and Ana- 
 logy, a certain attribute, we are disposed 
 
 to conclude that this attribute is 
 possessed by all the objects of that class. This conclu- 
 sion is properly called an Inference of Induction. 
 Again, if we have observed that two or more things 
 agree in several internal and essential characters, we 
 are disposed to conclude that they agree, likewise, in 
 all other essential characters, that is, that they are 
 constituents of the same class (genus or species). This 
 conclusion is properly called an Inference of Analogy.
 
 156 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 The principle by which, in either case, we are disposed 
 to extend our inferences beyond the limits of expe- 
 rience, is a natural or ultimate principle of intelligence ; 
 and may be called the principle of Logical, or, more 
 properly, of Philosophical Presumption. 
 The reasoning by Induction and the reasoning by Ana- 
 logy have this in common, that they both 
 
 Explication. conclude from something observed to some- 
 
 induction and Ana- . 
 
 logy, -their agree- tni g n ot observed; from something 
 ment and difference, within to something beyond the sphere 
 of actual experience. They differ, how- 
 ever, in this, that, in Induction, that which is observed 
 and from which the inference is drawn to that which is not 
 observed, is a unity in plurality ; whereas, in Analogy, it 
 is a plurality in iinity. In other words, in Induction, we 
 look to the one in the many ; in Analogy we look to the 
 many in the one ; and while in both we conclude to the 
 unity in totality, we do this, in Induction, from the recog- 
 nized unity in plurality, in Analogy, from the recognized 
 plurality in unity. Thus, as induction rests upon the 
 principle, that what belongs (or does not belong) to many 
 things of the same kind, belongs, (or does not belong) to all 
 things of the same kind ; so analogy rests upon the prin- 
 ciple, that things which have many observed attributes in 
 common, have other not observed attributes in common like- 
 wise. It is hardly necessary to remark that we are now speak- 
 ing of Induction and Analogy, not as principles of Pure Logic, 
 and as necessitated by the fundamental laws of thought, 
 but of these as means of acquiring knowledge, and as legiti- 
 mated by the conditions of objective reality. In Pure 
 Logic, Analogy has no place, and only that Indviction is 
 admitted, in which all the several parts are supposed to
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 157 
 
 legitimate the inference to the whole. Applied Induction, 
 on the contrary, rests on the constancy, the uniformity of 
 nature, and on the instinctive expectation we have of this 
 stability. This constitutes what has been called the prin- 
 ciple of Logical Presumption, though perhaps it might, with 
 greater propriety, be called the principle of Philosophical 
 Presumption. We shall now consider these severally ; and, 
 first, of Induction. 
 
 An Induction is the enumeration of the parts, in order 
 to legitimate a judgment in regard to the 
 
 Induction,-wht 
 
 whole. .Now, the parts may either be in- 
 dividuals or particulars, strictly so called. I say strictly 
 so called, for you are aware that the term particular is very 
 commonly employed, not only to denote the species, as con- 
 tained under a genus, but, likewise, to denote the individual, 
 as contained under a species. Using, however, the two 
 terms in their proper significations, I say, if the parts are 
 individual or singular things, the induction is then called. 
 Individual; whereas if the parts be species 
 or 8ub * ltern genera, the induction then 
 obtains the name of Special. An example 
 of the Individual Induction is given, were we to argue 
 thus, Mercury, Venus, t/tc Earth, Mars, etc., are bodies in 
 tlunnselves ojjaque, and which borrow their liy/U from l/te 
 un. But Mercury, Venus, etc., are planets. Therefore, all 
 planets are opaque, and borrow their light from the sun. 
 An example of the special is given, were we to argue as 
 follows, Quadrupeds, birds, Jishes, the amphibia, etc., all 
 have a nervous system. But quadrupeds, birds, etc., are 
 animals. Therefore all animals (though it is not yet 
 detected in some) have a nervous system. Now, here .it 
 in manifest that Special rests upon Individual Induction,
 
 158 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 and that, in the last result, all induction is individual. For 
 we can assert nothing concerning species, unless what 
 we assert of them has been previously observed in their 
 constituent singulars. 
 
 For a legitimate Induction there are requisite at least 
 
 two conditions. In the first place, it is 
 
 The two conditions nec essary, That the partial (and this word 
 
 of legitimate Indue- . . . . r \ . . 
 
 tion.-First. I use ^ including both the terms indivi- 
 
 dual and particular,) I say, it is neces- 
 sary that the partial judgments out of which the total or 
 general judgment is inferred, be all of the same quality. 
 For if one even of the partial judgments had an opposite 
 quality, the whole induction would be subverted. Hence 
 it is that we refute universal judgments founded on an im- 
 perfect induction, by bringing what is called an instance 
 (instantia), that is, by adducing a thing belonging to the 
 same class or notion, in reference to which the opposite 
 holds true. For example, the general assertion, All dogs 
 bark, is refuted by the instance of the dogs of Labrador or 
 California (I forget which), these do not bark. In like 
 manner, the general assertion, No quadruped is oviparous, 
 is refuted by the instance of the Ornithorhynchus Para- 
 doxus. But that the universal judgment must have the 
 same quality as the partial, is self-evident ; for this judg- 
 ment is simply the assertion of something to be true of all 
 which is true of many. 
 
 The second condition required is, That a competent 
 
 number of the partial objects from which 
 
 Second. the induction departs, should have been 
 
 observed, for otherwise the comprehension 
 
 of other objects under the total judgment would be rash. 
 
 What is the number of such objects, which amounts to a
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 159 
 
 competent induction, it is not possible to say in general. 
 In some cases, the observation of a very few particular or 
 individual examples is sufficient to warrant an assertion in 
 regard to the whole class ; in others, the total judgment is 
 hardly competent, until our observation has gone through 
 each of its constituent parts. This distinction is founded 
 on the difference of essential and unessential characters. If 
 the character be essential to the several objects, a compar- 
 atively limited observation is necessary to legitimate* our 
 general conclusion. For example, it would require a far 
 less induction to prove that all animals breathe, than to 
 prove that the mamalia, and the mamalia alone, have 
 lateral lobes to the cerebellum. For the one is seen to be a 
 function necessary to animal life; the other, as far as our 
 present knowledge reaches, appears only as an arbitrary con- 
 comitant. The difference of essential and accidental is, how- 
 ever, one itself founded on induction, and varies according 
 to the greater or less perfection to which this has been 
 carried. In the progress of science, the lateral lobes of the 
 cerebellum may appear to future physiologists as necessary 
 a condition of the function of suckling their young, as the 
 organs of breathing appear to us of circulation and of life. 
 To sum up the Doctrine of Induction, " This is more 
 certain, 1, In proportion to the number 
 and diversity of the objects observed : 
 
 doctrine of Induction J > 
 
 2, In proportion to the accuracy with 
 which the observation and comparison have been conducted ; 
 3, In proportion as the agreement of the objects is clear 
 and precise ; and, 4, In proportion as it has been 
 thoroughly explored, whether there exist exceptions or not." 
 Almost all induction is, however, necessarily imj>erfect ; 
 and Logic can inculcate nothing more important on the
 
 160 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 investigators of nature than that sobriety of mind, which 
 regards all its past observations only as hypothetically true, 
 only as relatively complete, and which, consequently, holds 
 the mind open to every new observation, which may cor- 
 rect and limit its former judgments. 
 
 So much for Induction ; now for Analogy. Analogy, in 
 general, means proportion, or a similarity 
 
 Analogy,-what. e '. _5 ' . J 
 
 of relations. Ihus, to judge analogically, 
 or acording to analogy, is to judge things by the similar- 
 ity of their relations. Thus, when we judge that as two is 
 to four, so is eight to sixteen, we judge that they are ana- 
 logically identical ; that is, though the sums in other 
 respects are different, they agree in this, that as two is the 
 half of four, so eight is the half of sixteen. 
 
 In common language, however, this propriety of the 
 term is not preserved. For by analogy is not always meant 
 merely by proportion, but frequently by comparison by re- 
 lation, or simply by similarity. In so far as Analogy con- 
 stitutes a particular kind of reasoning from the individual 
 or particular to the universal, it signifies an inference from 
 the partial similarity of two or more things to their com- 
 plete or total similarity. For example, This disease 
 corresponds in many symptoms with those we have observed 
 in typhus fevers ; it will, therefore, correspond in all, that 
 is, it is a typhus fev.r. 
 
 Like Induction, Analogy has two essential requisites. In 
 
 the first place, it is necessary that of two 
 
 Has two essential Qr mQre thi ft certain num b er of attri- 
 
 conditions, First. 
 
 butes should have observed, in order to 
 ground the inference that they also agree in those other 
 attributes, which it has not yet been ascertained that they 
 possess. It is evident that in proportion to the number of
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 1G1 
 
 points observed, in which the things compared together 
 coincide, in the sa,me proportion can it be with safety as- 
 sumed, that there exists a common principle in these things, 
 on which depends the similarity in the points known as in 
 the points unknowjj. 
 
 In the second place, it is required that the predicates 
 already observed should neither be all nega- 
 
 Second. 
 
 tive nor all contingent ; but that some at 
 least should be positive and necessary. Mere negative 
 characters denote only what the thing is not ; and contin- 
 gent characters need not be present in the thing at all. In 
 regard to negative attribute*, the inference, that two things, 
 to which a number of qualities do not belong, and which 
 are, consequently, similar to each other only in a negative 
 point of view, that these things are, therefore, absolutely 
 and positively similar, is highly improbable. But that the 
 judgment in reference to the compared things (say A and X) 
 must be of the same quality (t. e. either both affirmative or 
 both negative), is self-evident. For if it be said A is B, X 
 is not B, A w not C, X is C ; their harmony or similarity 
 is subverted, and we should rather be warranted in arguing 
 their discord and dissimilarity in other points. And here 
 it is to be noticed that Analogy differs from Induction in 
 this, that it is not limited to one quality, but that it admits 
 of a mixture of both. 
 
 In regard to contingent attributes, it is equally inanifet-t 
 that the analogy cannot proceed exclusively upon them. 
 For, if two things coincide in certain accidental attributes 
 (for example, two men in respect <>f gtaiure, age, and dress,) 
 the sii|ijm.siti')ii that there is a common principle, and a 
 general sirniliarity founded thereon, is very unlikely.
 
 162 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 To conclude : Analogy is certain in proportion, 1, To the 
 number of congruent obsovations ; 2, To 
 
 Summary of the ,-1 , f , 
 
 doctrine of Analogy. the number of congruent characters ob- 
 served ; 3, To the importance of these 
 characters and their essentiality to the objects ; and, 
 4, To the certainty that the characters really belong to the 
 objects, and that a partial correspondence exists. Like 
 Induction, Analogy can only pretend at best to a high degree 
 of probability ; it may have a high degree of certainty, but 
 it never reaches to necessity. 
 
 Comparing these two processes together : The Analogical 
 
 is distinguished from the Inductive in this 
 
 induction and Anal- t ^ at induction regards a single predicate 
 
 ogy compared to- 
 gether. m many subjects as the attribute Z in A, 
 
 in B, in C, in D, in E, in F, etc. ; and as 
 these many belong to one class, say Q ; it is inferred that Z 
 will, likewise, be met with in the other things belonging to 
 this class, that is, in all Qs. On the other hand, Analogy 
 regards many attributes in one subject (say m, n, o, p, in 
 A) ; and as these many are in part found in another subject 
 (say m, and n, in B), it is concluded that, in that second 
 thing, there will also be found the other attributes (say 
 o and p). Through Induction we, therefore, endeavor to 
 prove that one character belongs (or does not belong) to 
 all the things of a certain class, because it belongs (or does 
 not belong) to many things of that class. Through Anal- 
 ogy on the other hand, we seek to prove that all the charac- 
 ters of a thing belong (or do not belong) to another or 
 several others, because many of these characters belong to 
 this other or these others. In the one it is proclaimed, 
 One in many, therefore one in all. In the other it is pro- 
 claimed, Many in one, tfterefore all in one.
 
 INDUCTION AND ANALOGY. 103 
 
 By these Processes of Induction and Analogy, as observed, 
 we are unable to attain absolute certainty ; a great proba- 
 bility is all that we can reach, and this for the simple reason, 
 that it is impossible, under any condition, to 
 induction and Anal- faf^ t jj e uno bserved from the observed, 
 
 ogy do not afford ab- 
 
 solute ceruinty. tne whole from any proportion of the 
 parts, in the way of any rational neces- 
 sity. Even from the requisites of Induction and Anal- 
 ogy, it is manifest that they bear the stamp of uncertainty ; 
 inasmuch as they are unable to determine how many objects 
 or how many characters must be observed, in order to draw 
 the conclusion that the case is the same with all the other 
 objects, or with all the other characters. It is possible only 
 in one way to raise Induction and Analogy from mere 
 probability to complete certainty, viz., to demonstrate that 
 the principles which lie at the root of these processes, and 
 which we have already stated, are either necessary laws of 
 thought, or necessary laws of nature. To demonstrate 
 that they are necessary laws of thought is impossible ; for 
 Logic not only does not allow inference from many to all, 
 but expressly rejects it. Again, to demonstrate that they 
 are necessary laws of nature is equally impossible. This 
 has indeed been attempted, from the uniformity of nature, 
 but in vain. For it is incompetent to evince the necessity 
 of the inference of Induction and Analogy from the fact 
 denominated the law of nature ; seeing that this law itself 
 can only be discovered by the way of Induction and 
 Analogy. In this attempted demonstration there is thus 
 the most glaring petitio jtrineipii. The result which has 
 been previously given remains, therefore, intact : Induction 
 and Analogy guarantee no perfect certainty, but only a high 
 degree of probability, while all probability rests at best upon 
 Induction and Analogy, and nothing else.
 
 LECTURE VII. MODIFIED METHODOLOGY. 
 SECTION I. OF THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 I. EXPERIENCE B. FOREIGN :-ORAL TESTIMONY- 
 ITS CREDIBILITY. 
 
 HAVING, in our last Lecture, terminated the Doctrine of 
 Empirical Knowledge, considered as ob- 
 
 Foreign Experience. . . 
 
 tamed Immediately, that is, through the 
 
 exercise of our own powers of Observation, we are now to 
 
 enter on the doctrine of Empirical Knowledge considered as 
 
 obtained Mediately, that is, through the Experience of 
 
 Other Men. The following paragraph will afford you a 
 
 general notion of the nature and kinds of this knowledge. 
 
 IF XIX. A matter of Observation or Empirical 
 
 Knowledge can only be obtained 
 
 PiT. XIX. Testi- -*ir T , , ,i . T . ,. . , , 
 
 mon Mediately, that is, by one individual 
 
 from another, through an enouncement 
 declaring it to be true. This enouncement is called, 
 in the most extensive sense of the word, a Witnessing 
 or Testimony (testimonium) ; and the person by whom 
 it is made is, in the same sense, called a Witness, or 
 Testifier (testis). The object of the testimony is called 
 the Fact (factum) ; and its validity constitutes what 
 is styled Historical Credibility (credibilitas historica). 
 To estimate this credibility, it is requisite to consider
 
 EXPERIENCE ITS CREDIBILITY. 165 
 
 1, The Subjective Trustworthiness of the Witnesses 
 (fides testium), and 2, The Objective Probability of the 
 Fact itself. The former is founded partly on the Sin- 
 cerity, and partly on the Competence, of the Witness." 
 The latter depends on the Absolute and Relative 
 Possibility of the Fact itself. Testimony is either 
 Immediate or Mediate. Immediate, where the fact 
 reported is the object of a Personal Experience ; 
 Mediate, where the fact reported is the object of a 
 Foreign Experience. 
 
 It is manifest that Foreign Experience, or the experience 
 of other men, is astricted to the same laws, 
 
 Explication. . 
 
 and its certainty measured by the same 
 criteria, as the experience we carry through ourselves. But 
 the experience of the individual is limited, when compared 
 with the exjwrience of the species ; and if men did not 
 possess the means of communicating to each other the results 
 of their several observations, were they unable to cooperate 
 in accumulating a stock of knowledge, and in carrying on 
 the progress of discovery, -they would never have risen 
 above the very lowest steps in the acquisition of science. 
 But to this mutual communication they are competent ; 
 and each individual is thus able to appropriate to his own 
 benefit the experience of his fellow-men, and to confer on 
 them in return the advantages which his own observations 
 may supply. But it is evident that this reciprocal com- 
 munication of their respective experiences among men, can 
 only be effected inasmuch as one is able to inform another of 
 what he hits himself observed, and that the vehicle of this 
 information can only be some enouncement in conventional 
 signs of one character or another. The enouncement of 
 what has been observed is, as stated in the paragraph, called
 
 166 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 a witnessing, a bearing witness, a testimony, etc., these 
 terms being employed in their wider acceptation ; and he by 
 whom this declaration is made, and on whose veracity it 
 rests, is called a witness, voucher, or testifier (testis). The 
 term testimony, I may notice, is sometimes, by an abusive 
 metonym, employed for witness ; and the word evidence is 
 often ambiguously used for testimony, and for the bearer of 
 testimony,- the witness. 
 
 Such an enouncement, such a testimony, is, however, 
 
 necessary for others, only when the experi- 
 
 The proper object ence which it commun i categ j g beyond the 
 
 of Testimony, 
 
 compass of their own observation. Hence 
 it follows, that matters of reasoning are not proper objects 
 of testimony, since matters of reasoning, as such, neither 
 can rest, nor ought to rest, on the observations of others ; 
 for a proof of their certainty is equally competent to all, 
 and may by all be obtained in the manner in which it was 
 originally obtained by those who may bear witness to their 
 truth. And hence it further follows, that matters of expe- 
 rience alone are proper objects of testimony ; and of matters 
 of experience themselves, such only as are beyond the sphere 
 of our personal experience. Testimony, in the strictest 
 sense of the term, therefore, is the communication of an 
 experience, or, what amounts to the same thing, the report 
 of an observed phenomenon, made to those whose own 
 experience or observation has not reached so far. 
 
 The object of testimony, as stated in the paragraph, is 
 
 called the fact ; the validity of a testimony 
 
 The Fact. is called historical credibility. The testi- 
 
 Historical credi- . .,, . ,. ,. , 
 
 .... mony is either immediate or mediate. 
 
 Immediate when the witness has himself 
 
 observed the fact to which he testifies ; mediate, when the
 
 EXPERIENCE ITS CREDIBILITY. 167 
 
 witness has not himself had experience of this fact, but 
 
 has received it on the testimony of others. The former, 
 
 the immediate witness, is commonly styled 
 
 an eye-witness (testis oculatus) ; and the 
 
 latter, the mediate witness, an ear-witness 
 
 (testit auritas). The superiority of immediate to mediate 
 
 testimony is expressed by Plautus, " Pluris est oculatua 
 
 testis unus, quam auriti decem" These denominations, ey 
 
 and ear vritness, are however, as synonyms of immediate and 
 
 mediate vntness, not al ways either applicable or correct. The 
 
 person on whose testimony a fact is medi- 
 
 The Guarantee. 
 
 ately reported, is called the guarantee, or 
 he on whose authority it rests ; and the guarantee himself 
 may be again either an immediate or a mediate witness. In 
 the latter case he is called a second-hand or intermediate 
 witness ; and his testimony is commonly styled hearsay evi- 
 dence. Further, Testimony, whether immediate or mediate, 
 
 is either partial or complete ; either con- 
 Teftimonles.-pM- sistent or contradictory. ' These distinctions 
 
 tial, Complete, Con- . _. .. 
 
 rirt*nt, Contradic- qre no comment. Finally, testimony 
 tory. is either direct or indirect; direct, when 
 
 the witness has no motive but that of 
 making known the fact ; indirect, when he is actuated to 
 this by other enda. 
 
 The only question in reference to Testimony is that which 
 
 regards its Credibility : and the question 
 
 DhrWonofthewb- . ../... . 
 
 ject:i. Credibility of concerning the credibility of the witness 
 
 ony in general. ma y be comprehended under that touching 
 i^^ the Credibility of Testimony. The order 
 niar lorn* of immc- I ah*!! follow in the subsequent observa- 
 tions ia this, I shall, in the first pluce, 
 consider the Credibility of Testimony in general ; and,
 
 168 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 in the second, consider the Credibility of Testimony in its 
 particular forms of Immediate and Mediate. 
 
 First, then, in regard to the Credibility of Testimony in 
 general ; When we inquire whether a certain testimony is, 
 or is not, deserving of credit, there are two things to be con- 
 sidered : 1, The Object of the Testimony, that is, the fact 
 or facts for the truth of which the Testimony vouches ; and, 
 2, The Subject of the Testimony, that is, the person or 
 persons by whom the testimony is borne. The question, 
 therefore, concerning the Credibility of testimony, thus 
 naturally subdivides itself into two. Of these questions, 
 the first asks, What are the conditions of the credibility of 
 a testimony by reference to what is testified, that is, in 
 relation to the Object of the testimony ? The second asks, 
 What are the conditions of the credibility of a testimony 
 by him who testifies, that is, in relation to the Subject of 
 the testimony? Of these in their order. 
 
 On the first question. " In regard to the matter testified, 
 that is, in regard to the object of the testi- 
 
 I. Credibility oi m ony ; it is, first of all, a requisite condi- 
 
 Testimony in general. . , i , - i_ij.i_ i 11 
 
 1 The ob'ect of the tlon *"** what is reported to be true should 
 Testimony. be possible, both absolutely, or as an object 
 
 its absolute Possi- of tne Elaborative Faculty, and relatively, 
 or as an object of the Presentative Facul- 
 ties, Perception, External or Internal. A thing is possible 
 absolutely, or in itself, when it can be construed 1o thought, 
 that is, when it is not inconsistent with the logical laws of 
 thinking ; a thing is relatively possible as an object of Per- 
 ception, External or Internal, when it can afiect Sense or 
 Self-consciousness, and, through such affection, determine 
 its apprehension by one or other of these faculties. A 
 testimony is, therefore, to be unconditionally rejected, if
 
 EXPERIENCE ITS CREDIBILITY. 169 
 
 th fact which it reports be either in itself impossible, or 
 
 impossible as an object of the Presentative Faculties. But 
 
 the impossibility of a thing, as an object 
 
 PhyricmiMidMet*- of tuese faculties, must be decided either 
 
 physical ImpowibU- 
 
 it y . upon physical, or upon metaphysical, prin- 
 
 ciples. A thing is physically impossible as 
 an object of sense, when the existence itself, or its percep- 
 tion by us, is, by the laws of the material world, impossible. 
 It is metaphysically impossible, when the object itself, or its 
 perception, is possible neither through a natural nor through 
 a supernatural, agency. But, to establish the metaphysical 
 impossibility of a thing, it is not sufficient that its existence 
 cannot be explained by the ordinary laws of nature, or even 
 that its existence should appear repugnant with these laws ; 
 it is requisite that an universal and immutable law of nature 
 should have been demonstrated to exist, and that this law 
 would be subverted if the fact in question were admitted to 
 be physically possible. In like manner, to constitute the 
 metaphysical impossibility of a thing, it is by no means 
 enough to show that it is not explicable on natural laws, or 
 even that any natural law stands opposed to it ; it is further 
 requisite to prove that the intervention even of supernatural 
 agency is incompetent to its production, that its existence 
 would involve the violation of some necessary principle of 
 
 To establish the credibility of a testimony, in so far as 
 
 this is regulated by the nature of its object, 
 
 B*it|poibuity there ^ ^fa tne proof of the absolute 
 
 of m object. 
 
 possibility of this object, required also a 
 proof of its relative possibility ; that is, there must not 
 only be no contradiction between its necessary attributes, 
 the attributes by which it must be thought, but no contra-
 
 170 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 diction between the attributes actually assigned to it by tlre> 
 testimony. A testimony, therefore, which, qua testimony,, 
 is self-contradictory, can lay no claim to credibility ; for 
 what is self-contradictory is logically suicidal. And here 
 the only qxiestion is,, Does the testimony, qua testimony,, 
 contradict itself 1 for if the repugnancy arise from an opinion 
 of the witness, apart from which the testimony as such would 
 still stand undisproved, in thai case the testimony is not at 
 once to be repudiated as false. For example, it would be 
 wrong to reject a testimony to the existence of a thing, 
 because the witness had to his evidence of its observed 
 reality annexed some conjecture in regard to its origin or 
 cause. For the latter might well be shown to be absurd, 
 and yet the former would remain unshaken. It is, therefore, 
 always to be observed, that it ia only the self-contradiction 
 of a testimony, qua testimony, that is, the self-contradiction 
 of the fact itself, which is peremptorily and irrevocably 
 subversive of it credibility. 
 
 We now proceed to the second question ; that is, to con- 
 sider in general the Credibility oi a Testi- 
 2, The Subject oi mony by reference to its subject, that is, 
 
 the Testimony, or . . . , _ . _, 
 
 personal tmstwor- m relation to the Personal Trustworthiness 
 thiness of the Wit- o f the Witness. The trustworthiness of a 
 
 ness. This consists .. . , /, , , ,. 
 
 oftwoeiements:-<a) witness consists of two elements or condi- 
 Honesty or Veracity, tions. In the first place, he must be will- 
 ing, in the second place, he must be able, 
 to report the truth. The first of these elements is the 
 Honesty, the Sincerity, the Veracity ; the second is the 
 Competency of the Witness. Both are equally necessary, 
 and if one or other be deficient, the testimony becomes 
 altogether null. These constituents, likewise, do not infer 
 each other ; for it frequently happens that where the honesty
 
 EXPERIENCE- ITS CREDIBILITY. 171 
 
 ia greatest the competency is least, and where the com- 
 petency is greatest, the honesty is least. But when the 
 veracity of a witness is established, there is established also 
 a presumption of his competency ; for an honest man will 
 not bear evidence to a point in regard to which his recollec- 
 tion is not precise, or to the observation of which he had 
 not accorded the requisite attention. In 'truth, when a fact 
 depends on the testimony of a single witness, the com- 
 petency of that witness is solely guaranteed by his honesty. 
 In regard to the honesty of a witness, this, though often 
 admitting of the highest probability, never admits of absolute 
 certainty ; for, though in many cases, we may knbw enough 
 of the general character of the witness to rely, with perfect 
 confidence on his veracity, in no case can we look into the 
 heart, and observe the influence which motives have actually 
 had upon his volitions. We are, however, compelled, in 
 many of t !,. most important concerns of our existence, to 
 depend on the testimony, and, consequently, to confide in 
 the sincerity, of others. But from the moral constitution 
 of human nature, -we are warranted in presuming on the 
 honesty of a witness ; and this presumption is enhanced in 
 proportion as the following circumstances concur in its con- 
 firmation. In the first place, a witness is to be presumed 
 veracious in this case, in proportion as his love of truth is 
 already established from others. In the second place, a 
 witness is to be presumed veracious, in 
 Tbeprwumptionof proportion as he has fewer and weaker 
 th.HoDrtyofmwit, motives to falsify his testimony. In the 
 
 ne enhanced by cer- * 
 
 uin drvunuunow. third place, a witness is to be presumed 
 
 veracious, in proportion to the likelihood 
 
 of contradiction which his testimony would encounter, if he
 
 172 MOD1F1KD LOGIC. 
 
 deviated from the truth. So much for the Sincerity, 
 Honesty, or Veracity of a witness. 
 
 In regard to the Competency or Ability of a witness, 
 this, in general, depends on the supposition 
 
 (b) Competency of ^ ^ h ^ . ^ ^ cor rect]y 
 
 a Witness. 
 
 to observe the fact to which he testifies, 
 and correctly to report it. The presumption in favor of the 
 competence of a witness rises in proportion as the following 
 
 conditions are fulfilled: In the first place, 
 Circumstances by h e mus t be presumed competent in refer- 
 
 which the presump- , , . . 
 
 Won of competency is ence to the Case ln hand > ln Proportion as 
 
 enhanced. . his general ability to observe and to com- 
 
 municate his observation has been estab- 
 lished in other cases. In the second place, the competency 
 of a witness must be presumed, in proportion as in the par- 
 ticular case a lower and commoner amount of ability is 
 requisite rightly to observe, and rightly to report the obser- 
 vation. In the third place, the competency of a witness is 
 to be presumed, in proportion as it is not to be presumed 
 that his observation was made or communicated at a time 
 when he was unable correctly to make or correctly to com- 
 municate it. So much for the Competency of a witness. 
 Now, when both the good will and the ability, that is, 
 when both the Veracity and Competence of 
 The credibility of a witness have been sumcisntly established, 
 
 Testimony not invali- i. / 
 
 dated because the the credibility of his testimony is not to be 
 fact testified is one invalidated because the fact which it goes 
 
 out of the ordinary . ., ,, ,. 
 
 course of experience. to P rove ls one out of the ordinary course 
 of experience. Thus it would be false to. 
 assert, with. Hume, that miracles, that is, suspensions of the 
 ordinary laws of nature, are incapable of proof, because con- 
 tradicted by what we have been able to observe. On the
 
 EXPERIENCE ITS CREDIBILITY. 173 
 
 contrary, where the trustworthiness of a witness or witnesses 
 is unimpeachable, the very circumstance that the object is 
 one in itself unusual and marvellous, adds greater weight 
 to the testimony ; for this very circumstance would itself 
 induce men of veracity and intelligence to accord a more 
 attentive scrutiny to the fact, and secure from them a more 
 accurate report of their observation. 
 
 The result of what has now been stated in regard to the 
 
 credibility of Testimony in general, is : 
 
 summary regarding That a testimony is entitled to credit when 
 
 the Credibility rfTw 
 
 timony in general. tne requisite conditions, both on the purt 
 of the object and on the part of the sub- 
 ject, have been fulfilled. On the part of the object these 
 are fulfilled when the object is absolutely possible, as an 
 object of the higher faculty of experience, the Understand- 
 ing, the Elaborativo Faculty, and relatively possible, as an 
 object of the lower or subsidiary faculties of experience, 
 Sense, and Self-consciousness. In this case, the testimony, 
 qua, testimony, does not contradict itself. On the part of 
 the subject the requisite conditions are fulfilled when the 
 trustworthiness, that is, the veracity and competency of the 
 witness, is beyond reasonable doubt. In regard to the 
 veracity of the witness, this cannot be reasonably doubted, 
 when there is no positive ground on which to discredit the 
 sincerity of the witness, and when the only ground of doubt 
 lies in the mere general possibility of deception. And in 
 reference to the competency of a witness, this is exposed 
 to no reasonable objection, when the ability of the witness 
 to observe and to communicate the fact in testimony cannot 
 be disallowed. Having, therefore, concluded the considera- 
 tion of testimony in general, we proceed to treat of it in 
 pecial, that is, in so far as it is viewed either as Immediate 
 or as Mediate. Of these in their order.
 
 174 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 The special consideration of Testimony, when that testi- 
 mony is Immediate. An immediate testi- 
 ii. Testimony in mon y, or testimony at first hand, is one in 
 
 special, as Immediate 
 
 and Mediate. which the fact reported is an object of the 
 
 1, immediate Tes- proper or personal experience of the re- 
 
 timony. 
 
 porter. .Now it is manifest, that an imme- 
 diate witness is in general better entitled to credit than a 
 witness at second hand ; and his testimony rises in proba- 
 bility, in proportion as the requisites, already specified, both 
 on the part of its object and on the part of its subject, are 
 fulfilled. An immediate testimony is, therefore, entitled to 
 credit, 1, In proportion to the greater ability with which 
 
 the observation has been made ; 2, In 
 
 Conditions of its ,. ,-. , . -,. , . ,-, 
 
 m proportion to the less impediment in the 
 
 way of the observation being perfectly ac- 
 complished ; 3, In proportion as what was observed could be 
 fully and accurately remembered ; and, 4, In proportion as 
 the facts observed and remembered have been communicated 
 by intelligible and unambiguous signs. 
 
 Now, whether all these conditions of a higher credibility 
 
 be fulfilled in the case of any immediate 
 
 whether all these testimony, this cannot be directly and at 
 
 conditions are ful- . ., , 
 
 filled in the case of once ascertained ; it can only be inferred, 
 any immediate testi- with greater or less certainty, from the 
 
 mony, cannot be di- ,-, f ,-, ., i ,1 
 
 rectly ascertained, qualities of the witness ; and, consequently, 
 the validity of a testimony can only be 
 accurately estimated from a critical knowledge of the per- 
 sonal character of the witness, as given in his intellectual 
 and moral qualities, and in the circumstances of his life, 
 which have concurred to modify and determine these. The 
 veracity of a witness either is, or is not, exempt from doubt; 
 and, in the latter case, it may not only lie open to doubt,
 
 EXPERIENCE ITS CREDIBILITY. 175 
 
 but even be exposed to suspicion. If the sincerity of the 
 witness be indubitable, a direct testimony is always prefer- 
 able to an indirect ; for a direct testimony being made with 
 the sole intent of establishing the certainty of the fact in 
 question, the competency of the witness is Jess exposed to 
 objection. If, on the contrary, the sincerity of the witness 
 be not beyond a doubt, and, still more, if it be actually sus- 
 pected, in that case an indirect testimony is of higher cogency 
 than a direct ; for the indirect testimony being given with 
 Another view than merely to establish the fact in question, 
 the intention of the witness to falsify the truth of the fact 
 has not so strong a, presumption in its favor. If both the 
 sincerity and the competency of the witness are altogether 
 indubitable, it is then of no importance whether the truth 
 of the fact be vouched for by a single witness, or by a 
 plurality of witnesses On the other hand, if the sincerity 
 and competency of the witness be at all doubtful, the credi- 
 bility of a testimony will be greater, the greater the number 
 of the witnesses by whom the fact is corro- 
 
 whn testimony t- borated. But here it is to be considered, 
 Uln the higheat de- 
 gree of proUtbtnty. th** when there are a plurality of testi- 
 monies to the same fact, these testimonies 
 are either consistent or inconsistent. If the testimonies be 
 consistent, and the sincerity and competency of all the wit- 
 nesses complete, in that case the testimony attains the highest 
 degree of probability of which any testimony is capable. 
 Again, if the witnesses be inconsistent, on this hypothesis 
 two cases are possible ; for either their discrepancy is nega- 
 tive, or it is positive. A negative discrep- 
 . ancy arises, where one witness passes over 
 
 in silence what another witness positively 
 avers. A positive discrepancy arises, where one witness
 
 176 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 explicitly affirms something, which something another wit- 
 ness explicitly denies. When the difference of testimonies 
 is merely negative, we may suppose various causes of the 
 silence ; and, therefore, the positive averment of one witness 
 to a fact is not disproved by the mere circumstance that 
 the same fact is omitted by another. But if it be made out, 
 that the witness who omits mention of the fact could not 
 have been ignorant of that fact had it taken place, and. at 
 the same time, that he could not have passed it over without 
 violating every probability of human action, in this case, 
 the silence of the one witness manifestly derogates from the 
 credibility of the other witness, and in certain circumstances 
 may annihilate it altogether. Where, again, the difference 
 is positive, the discrepancy is of greater importance, because 
 (though there are certainly exceptions to the rule) an overt 
 contradiction is, in general and in itself, of stronger cogency 
 than a mere non-confirmation by simple silence. Now the 
 positive discrepancy of testimonies either admits of concili- 
 ation, or it does not. In the former case, the credibility of 
 the several testimonies stands intact ; and the discrepancy 
 among the witnesses is to be accounted for by such circum- 
 stances as explain, without invalidating, the testimony con- 
 sidered in itself. In the latter case, one testimony mani- 
 festly detracts from the credibility of another ; for of incom- 
 patible testimonies, while both cannot be true, the one must 
 be false, when reciprocally contradictory, or they may both 
 be false, when reciprocally contrary. In this case, the whole 
 question resolves itself into one of the greater or less trust- 
 worthiness of the opposing witnesses. Is the trustworthi- 
 ness of the counter-witnesses equally great 1 In that case, 
 neither of the con flic tive testimonies is to be admitted. 
 Again, is the trustworthiness of the witnesses not upon a
 
 EXPERIENCE ITS CREDIBILITY. 177 
 
 par ? In that case, the testimony of the witness whose 
 trustworthiness is the greater, obtains the preference,- and 
 this more especially if the credibility of the other witnesses 
 is suspected. 
 
 So much for the Credibility of Testimony, considered in 
 Special, in so far as that testimony is Immediate or at First 
 Hand : and I now, in the second place, pass on to consider 
 likewise in special, the Credibility of Testimony, in so far 
 as that testimony is Mediate, or at Second Hand. 
 
 A Mediate Testimony is one where the fact is an object 
 not of Personal, but of Foreign Experi- 
 
 2*. Mediate Testi- m i J.L. ri -r /> 
 
 ence. louching the credibility of a me- 
 diate testimony, this supposes that the 
 report of the immediate, and that the report of the mediate, 
 witness are both trustworthy, this we are either of our- 
 selves able to determine, viz., from our personal acquaintance 
 with its veracity and competence ; or we are unable of 
 ourselves to do this, in which case the credibility of the 
 immediate must be taken upon the authority of the mediate 
 witness. Here, however, it is necessary for us to be aware, 
 that the mediate witness is possessed of the ability requisite 
 to estimate the credibility of the immediate witness, and of 
 the honesty to communicate the truth without retrenchment 
 or falsification. But if the trustworthiness both of the 
 mediate and of the immediate witness be sufficiently 
 established, it is of no consequence, in regard to the credi- 
 bility of a testimony, whether it be at first hand or at 
 second. Nay, the testimony of a mediate may even tend 
 to confirm the testimony of an immediate witness, when 
 his own competence fairly to appreciate the report of the 
 immediate witness is indubitable. If, however, the cie- 
 dibility of the immediate witness be unimpeachable, but 
 9*
 
 178 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 not so the credibility of the mediate, in that case the 
 mediate testimony, in respect of its authority, is inferior to 
 the immediate, and this in the same proportion as the 
 credibility of the second hand witness is inferior to that 
 of the witness at first hand. Further, mediate witnesses 
 are either Proximate or Remote ; and, in both cases, either 
 Independent or Dependent. The trustworthiness of proxi- 
 mate witnesses is, in general, greater than the trustworthi- 
 ness of remote ; and the credibility of 
 
 Mediate Witnesses j j -, A i j.v 
 
 are either Proximate ^dependent witnesses greater than the 
 or Remote.and either credibility of dependent. The remote 
 
 Independent or De- witnesg is unwort hy of belief, when the 
 pendent. 
 
 intermediate links are wanting between 
 him and the original witness ; and the dependent witness 
 deserves no credit, when that on which his evidence 
 depends is recognized as false or unestablished. Mediate 
 testimonies are, likewise, either direct or indirect ; and, 
 likewise, when more than one, either reciprocally con- 
 gruent or conflictive. In both cases the credibility of the 
 witnesses is to be determined in the same manner as if the 
 testimonies were immediate. 
 
 The testimony of a plurality of mediate witnesses, where 
 there is no recognized immediate witness, 
 
 Rumor. what. ni /> j i ^ i 
 
 is called a rumor, it the witnesses be con- 
 Tradition. 
 
 temporaneous ; and a tradition if the 
 witnesses be chronologically successive. These are both 
 less entitled to credit, in proportion as in either case a 
 fiction or falsification of the fact is comparatively easy, 
 and, consequently, comparatively probable.
 
 LECTURE VIII. MODIFIED METHODOLOGY. 
 SECTION I. OF THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 L EXPERIENCE. R FOREIGN ; RECORDED TESTI- 
 MONY AND WRITINGS IN GENERAL, 
 
 n. SPECULATION. 
 
 IK our lost Lecture, we were engaged in the considera- 
 tion of Testimony, and the Principles by 
 critkjUm f R*- which its Credibility is governed, on the 
 corded Te.un.ony supposition always that we possess the 
 
 and of Writing! in J 
 
 yeaermi. veritable report of the witness whose tes- 
 
 timony it professes to be, and on the 
 supposition that we are at no loss to understand its mean- 
 ing and purport. But questions may arise in regard to 
 tfaooc point*, and, therefore, there is a further critical pro- 
 cess requisite, in order to establish the Authenticity, the 
 Integrity, and the Signification, of the documents in which 
 the testimony is conveyed. This leads to the important 
 subject, the Criticism of Recorded Testimony, and of 
 Writings in general. I shall comprise the heads of the 
 following observations on this subject in the ensuing 
 paragraph.
 
 180 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 IF XX. The examination and judgment of Writ- 
 ings professing to contain the testi- 
 
 Par. XX. Criticism /. , . ., j c 
 
 . r . mony ot certain witnesses, and of 
 
 and Interpretation. J 
 
 Writings in General professing to be 
 the work of certain authors, is of two parts. For the 
 inquiry regards either, 1, The Authenticity of the 
 document, that is, whether it be, in whole or in part, 
 the product of its ostensible author; for ancient writings 
 in particular are frequently suppositious or interpo- 
 lated ; or, 2, It regards the Meaning of the words of 
 which it is composed, for these, especially when in 
 languages now dead, are frequently obscure. The 
 former of these problems is resolved by the Art of 
 Criticism (Critica,) in the stricter sense, of the term ; 
 the latter by the Art of Interpretation ( Exegetica or 
 Hermeneutica.J Criticism is of two kinds. If it be 
 occupied with the criteria of the authenticity of a 
 writing in its totality, or in its principal parts, it is 
 called the Higher, and sometimes the Internal, Criti- 
 cism. If, again, it consider only the integrity of 
 particular words and phrases, it is called the Lower, 
 and sometimes the External, Criticism. The former of 
 these may perhaps be best styled the Criticism of 
 Authenticity ; the latter, the Criticism of Integrity. 
 
 The problem which Interpretation has to solve is, 
 To discover and expound the meaning of a writer, 
 from the words in which his thoughts are expressed. 
 It departs from the principle, that however manifold 
 be the possible meanings of the expressions, the sense 
 of the writer is one. Interpretation, by reference to 
 its sources or subsidia, has been divided into the 
 Grammatical, the Historical, and the Philosophiccif-, 
 Exegesis.
 
 RECORDED TESTIMONY. 181 
 
 Testimonies, especially when the ostensible witnesses 
 themselves can no longer be interrogated, 
 
 Explication. 
 
 may be subjected to an examination under 
 various forms ; and this examination is in fact indispen- 
 sable, seeing not only that a fake testimony may be 
 substituted for a true, and a testimony true upon the 
 whole may yet be falsified in its parts, a practice which 
 prevailed to a great extent in ancient times ; while at the 
 same time the meaning of the testimony, by reason either 
 of the foreign character of the language in which it is ex- 
 pressed, or of the foreign character of thought in which it 
 is conceived, may be obscure and undetermined. The ex- 
 amination of a testimony is twofold, inasmuch as it is 
 either an examination of its Authenticity 
 
 The examination of j T , ., ,. f ., 
 
 a tsrtimony twofold, and Inte g nfcv or an examination of its 
 of it* Authenticity Meaning. This twofold process of examin- 
 ed integrity, and of . ^ applicable to testimonies of every 
 
 Ita Meaning. J 
 
 kind, but it becomes indispensable when 
 the testimony has been recorded in writing, and when this, 
 from its antiquity, has come down to us only in transcripts, 
 indefinitely removed from the original, and when the 
 witnesses are men differing greatly from ourselves in lan- 
 
 <MI:i'_"-. lu.ilil. .T>. customs, HU'l ;is.>ori;iti"HS of tlmll^ht. The 
 
 solution of the problem, By what laws are the authen- 
 ticity or spuriouKness, the integrity or 
 
 Criticism. 3 . 
 
 corruption, of a writing to be determined, 
 constitutes the Art of Criticism, in its stricter significa- 
 tion (Critica) ; and the solution of the problem, By what 
 law is the sense or meaning of a writing to be determined, 
 
 constitutes the Art of Interpretation 
 
 Interpretation. . . . . 
 
 or Exposition (Ifermeneutica, Exagetica). 
 
 In theory, Criticism ought to precede Interpretation, for
 
 182 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 the question, Who has spoken, naturally arises before the 
 question, How what has been spoken is to be understood. 
 But in practice, criticism and interpretation cannot be sepa- 
 rated ; for in application they proceed hand in hand. 
 
 First, then, of Criticism ; arid the question that presents 
 itself in the threshold is, What are its 
 Definition and Divisions ? Under Criti- 
 cism is to be understood the complement of logical rules, by 
 which the authenticity or spuriousness, the integrity or 
 interpolation, of a writing is to be judged. The problems 
 which it proposes to answer are, 1, Does 
 
 Its problems. 
 
 a writing really proceed from the author 
 to whom it is ascribed ; and 2, Is a writing, as we possess 
 it, in all its parts the same as it came from the hands of its 
 author. The system of fundamental rules, which are sup- 
 posed in judging of the authenticity and integrity of every 
 
 writing, constitutes what is called the 
 
 Universal Criticism. f T r n 
 
 Doctrine of Universal Criticism ; and the 
 system of particular rules, by which the authenticity and 
 integrity of writings of a certain kind are judged, con- 
 stitutes the doctrine of what is called 
 
 Special Criticism. ..,.,... T . 
 
 Universal Criticism Special Criticism. It is manifest, from 
 mione within the t ne nature of Logic, that the doctrine of 
 
 phere of Logic. . 
 
 Universal Criticism is alone within its 
 sphere. Now Universal Criticism is conversant either 
 with the authenticity or spuriousness of a writing con- 
 sidered as a whole, or with the integrity or interpolation of 
 
 certain parts. In the former case it is 
 
 Its Divisions. * . . 
 
 called Hiytier, in the latter, Lower, Criti- 
 cism ; but these denominations are "inappropriate. The 
 one criticism has also been styled the Internal, the other 
 the External ; but these appellations are, likewise, excep-
 
 RECORDED TESTIMONY. 183 
 
 tionable ; and, perhaps, it would be preferable to call the 
 former the Criticism of the Authenticity, the latter, the 
 Criticism of the Integrity, of a work. I shall consider these 
 in particular ; and, first, of the Criticism of Authenticity. 
 
 A proof of the authenticity of a writing, more especially 
 of an ancient writing, can be rested only upon two grounds, 
 an Internal and an External, and on 
 UCL these either apart or in combination. By 
 
 internal grounds, we mean those indications 
 of authenticity which the writing itself affords. By external 
 grounds, we denote the testimony borne by other works, of 
 a corresponding antiquity, to the authenticity of the writing 
 in question. 
 
 In regard to the Internal Grounds ; it is evident, without 
 entering upon details, that these cannot of 
 
 (a) Internal Grounds. , , . . , . 
 
 Thw of themneivea themselves, that is, apart from the external 
 not sufficient to - grounds, afford evidence capable of estab- 
 lishing beyond a doubt the authenticity of 
 an ancient writing ; for we can easily 
 conceive that an able and learned forger may accommodate 
 his fabrications both to all the general circumstances of 
 time, place, people, and language, under which it is sup- 
 posed to have been written, and even to all' the particular 
 circumstances of the style, habit of thought, personal rela- 
 tions, etc., of the author by whom it professes to have 
 been written, so that everything may militate for, and 
 nothing militate against, its authenticity. 
 
 But if our criticism from the internal grounds alone be, 
 on the one hand, impotent to establish, it 
 
 But omnipotent to * ,\_ ,1 . ,. 
 
 dbprove thin 1B on tne otner omnipotent to disprove. 
 
 For it is sufficient to show that a writing 
 
 is in essential parts, that is, parts which cannot be separated
 
 184 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 from the whole, in opposition to the known manners, insti- 
 tutions, usages, etc., of that people with which it would, and 
 must, have been in harmony, were it the product of the 
 writer whose name it bears ; that, on tne contrary, it bears 
 upon its face indications of another country or of a later 
 age ; and, finally, that it is at variance with the personal cir- 
 cumstances, the turn of mind, and the pitch of intellect, of 
 its pretended author. And here it is to be noticed, that 
 these grounds are only relatively internal ; for we become 
 aware of them originally only through the testimony of 
 others, that is, through external grounds. 
 
 Jn regard to the External Grounds ; they, as I said, 
 consist in the testimony, direct or indirect, 
 
 (b)Extemal Grounds. . . 
 
 given to the authenticity of the writing in 
 question by other works of a competent antiquity. This 
 testimony may be contained either in other and admitted 
 writings of the supposed author himself ; or in those of con- 
 temporary writers ; or in those of writers approximating in 
 antiquity. This testimony may also be given either directly 
 by attribution of the disputed writing by title to the author ; 
 or indirectly, by quoting as his certain passages which are 
 to be found in it. On this subject it is needless to go into 
 detail, and it is hardly necessary to observe, that the proof 
 of the authenticity is most complete when it proceeds upon 
 the internal and external grounds together. I, therefore, 
 pass on to the Criticism of Integrity. 
 
 When the authenticity of an ancient work has been estab- 
 lished on external grounds, and been con- 
 
 2. Criticism of In- /> j , ij.-t.-j. -i r 1.* 
 
 te - t firmed on internal, the integrity of this 
 
 writing is not therewith proved ; for it is 
 
 very possible, and in ancient writings indeed very probable, 
 
 that particular passages are either interpolated or corrupted.
 
 RECORDED TESTIMONY. 185 
 
 The authenticity of particular passages is to be judged of 
 precisely by the same laws which regulate our criticism of 
 the authenticity of the whole work. The proof most perti- 
 nent to the authenticity of particular passages is drawn 
 1, From their acknowledgment by the author himself in 
 other, and these unsuspected, works ; 2, From the attribu- 
 tion of them to the author by other writers of competent 
 information ; and, 3, From the evidence of the most ancient 
 MSB. On the other hand, a passage is to be obelized as 
 spurious, 1, When found to be repugnant to the general 
 relations of time and place, and to the personal relations of 
 the author ; 2, When wanting in the more ancient codices, 
 and extant only in the more modern. A passage is sus- 
 picious, when any motive for its interpolation is manifest, 
 even should we be unable to establish it as spurious. The 
 differences which different copies of a writing exhibit in 
 the particular passages, are called various readings (varue 
 lectione* or lecliones varianles). Now, as of various readings 
 only one can be the true, while they may all very easily 
 be false, the problem which the criticism of Integrity 
 proposes to solve is, How is the genuine reading to be 
 made out ; and herein consists what is technically called the 
 Jiecension, more properly the Emendation, of the text. 
 The Emendation of an ancient author may be of two 
 kinds ; the one of which may be called 
 
 of th Historical, the other the Conjectured. The 
 
 toxt,-of two kind*, . . , f _ . t j . 
 
 Ti., uutoricmi md former of these founds upon historical data 
 Conjectural. for its proof ; the latter, again, proceeds on 
 
 grounds which lie beyond the sphere of 
 historical fact, and this for the very reason that historical 
 fact is found incompetent to the restoration of the text to 
 its original integrity. The historical emendation necessarily
 
 186 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 precedes the conjectural, because -the object itself of emen- 
 dation is wholly of an historical character, and because it is 
 not permitted to attempt any other than an emendation on 
 historical grounds, until, from these very grounds themselves, 
 it be shown that the restitution of the text to its original 
 integrity cannot be historically accom- 
 HistoricaiEnienda- plished. Historical Emendation is again 
 
 tion of two kinds, / , i j T . i 
 
 ot two kinds, according as its judgment 
 
 External and Inter- J 
 
 rial. proceeds on external or on internal grounds. 
 
 It founds upon external grounds, when 
 the reasons for the truth or falsehood of a reading are 
 derived from testimony ; it founds upon internal grounds 
 when the reasons for the truth or falsehood of a reading are 
 derived from the writing itself. Historical emendation has 
 thus a two-fold function to perform (and in its application 
 to practice, these must always be performed in conjunction), 
 viz., it has carefully to seek out and accurately to weigh both 
 the external and internal reasons in support of the reading 
 in dispute. Of external grounds the principal consists in 
 the confirmation afforded by MSS., by printed editions which 
 have immediately emanated from MSS., by ancient transla- 
 tions, and by passages quoted in ancient authors. The 
 internal grounds are all derived either from the form, or 
 from the contents, of the work itself. In reference to the 
 form, a reading is probable, in proportion as it corresponds 
 to the general character of the language prevalent at the 
 epoch when the work was written, and to the peculiar 
 character of the language by which the author himself was 
 distinguished. In reference to the contents, a reading is 
 probable, when it harmonizes with the context, that is, when 
 it concurs with the other words of the particular passage in 
 which it stands, in affording a meaning reasonable in itself,
 
 RECORDED TESTIMONY. 187 
 
 and conformable with the author's opinions, reasonings, and 
 general character of thought. 
 
 It frequently happens, however, that, notwithstanding 
 the uniformity of MSS., and other external 
 subsidia, a reading cannot be recognized as 
 
 genuine. In this case, it must be scienti- 
 fically shown from the rules of criticism itself that this 
 lection is corrupt. If the demonstration thus attempted be 
 satisfactory, and if all external subsidia have been tried in 
 vain, the critic is permitted to consider in what manner the 
 corrupted passage can be restored to its integrity. And 
 here the conjectural or divinatory emendation comes into 
 play ; a process in which the power and efficiency of criti- 
 cism and the genius of the critic are principally manifested. 
 
 So much for Criticism, in its applications both to the 
 Authenticity and to the Integrity of Writings. We have now 
 to consider the general rules by which Interpretation, that 
 is, the scientific process of expounding the Meaning of an 
 author, is regulated. 
 
 By the Art of Interpretation, called likewise technically 
 Ilermeneittic or Exegelic. is meant the com- 
 
 II. Interpretation. 
 
 piemen t of logical laws, by which the 
 
 sense of an ancient writing is to be evolved. Hermeneutic 
 
 is either General or Special. General, 
 
 0Hnl or SpecUL 
 
 when it contains those laws which apply 
 to the interpretation of any writing whatever ; Special, 
 when it comprises those laws by which writings of a parti- 
 cular kind are to be expounded. The former of these alone 
 is of logical concernment. The problem proposed for the 
 Art of Interpretation to solve, is, How are we to proceed 
 in order to discover from the words of a writing that sole 
 meaning which the author intended them to convey ? In
 
 188 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 the interpretation of a work, it is not, therefore, enough to 
 show in what signification its words may be understood ; for 
 it is required that we show in what signification they must. 
 To the execution of this task two conditions are absolutely 
 necessary ; 1, That the interpreter should be thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the language itself in general, and with the 
 language of the writer in particular ; and 2, That the inter- 
 preter should be familiar with the subjects of which the 
 writing treats. But these two requisites, though indispen- 
 sable, are not of themselves sufficient. It is also of impor- 
 tance that the expositor should have a competent acquaint- 
 ance with the author's personal circumstances and character 
 of thought, and with the history and spirit of the age and 
 country in which he lived. In regard to the interpretation 
 itself, it is to be again observed, that as a writer could 
 employ expressions only in a single sense, so the result of 
 the exposition ought to be not mei*ely to show what meaning 
 may possibly attach to the doubtful terms, but what 
 meaning necessarily must. When, therefore, it appears that 
 a passage is of doubtful import, the best preparative for a 
 final determination of its meaning is, in the first place, to 
 ascertain in how many different significations it may be 
 construed, and then, by a process of exclusion, to arrive at 
 the one veritable meaning. When, however, the obscurity 
 cannot be removed, in that case it is the duty of the expositor, 
 before abandoning his task, to evince that an interpretation 
 of the passage is, without change, absolutely or relatively 
 impossible. 
 
 As to the sources from whence the Interpretation is to 
 be drawn, these are three in all, viz., 
 
 Sources of Inter- ^ ^ T , l iterarum the words 
 
 pretation. 
 
 themselves, as they appear in MSS. ; 2, 
 The context, that is, the passage in immediate connection
 
 RECORDED TESTIMONY. 189 
 
 with the doubtful term ; 3, Parallel or analogous passages 
 in the same, or in other writings. How the interpretation 
 drawn from these sources is to be applied, I shall not 
 attempt to detail ; but pass on to a more generally useful 
 and interesting subject. 
 
 So much for Experience or Observation, the first mean of 
 scientific discovery, that, viz., by which 
 
 Speculation the we apprehend what is presented as con- 
 Second Means of .. . 
 Knowledge. tingent phenomena, and by whose process 
 
 of Induction and Analogy we carry xxp 
 individual into general facts. We have now to consider 
 the other mean of scientific discovery, that, viz., by which, 
 from the phenomena presented as contingent, we separate 
 what is really necessary, and thus attain to the knowledge, 
 not of merely generalized facts, but of universal laws/ This 
 mean may, for distinction's sake, be called Speculation, and 
 its general nature I comprehend in the following paragraph. 
 1T XXI. When the mind does not rest contented 
 with observing and classifying the 
 Par. xxi. specn- objects of its experience, but, by a 
 of Know- reflective analysis, sunders the con- 
 
 mean* 
 
 ledge. Crete wholes presented to its cogni- 
 
 tion, throws out of account all that, 
 as contingent, it can think away from, and concen- 
 trates its attention exclusively on those elements 
 which, as necessary conditions of its own acts, it cannot 
 but think ; by this process it obtains the knowledge 
 of a certain order of facts, facts of Self-consciousness, 
 which, as essential to all Experience, are not the re- 
 sult of any ; constituting in truth the Laws by which 
 the possibility of our cognitive functions is determined. 
 This process, by which we thus attain to a discrimi-
 
 190 MODIFIED LOOIC. 
 
 native knowledge of the Necessary, Native, and, as 
 they are also called, the Noetic, Pure, a priori, or 
 Transcendental, Elements of Thought, may be styled 
 Speculative Analysis, Analytic /Speculation, or Specula- 
 tion simply, and is carefully to be distinguished from 
 Induction, with which it is not unusually confounded. 
 The empirical knowledge of which we have hitherto been 
 speaking, does not, however varied and 
 
 Explication. . . . 
 
 extensive it may be, suffice to satisfy the 
 thinking mind as- such ; for our empirical knowledge itself 
 points at certain higher cognitions from which it may ob- 
 tain completion, and which are of a very different character 
 from that by which the mere empirical cognitions them- 
 selves are distinguished. The cognitions are styled, among 
 other names, by those of noetic, pure, or rational, and they 
 are such as cannot, though manifested in experience, be de- 
 rived from experience ; for, as the conditions under which 
 experience is possible, they must be viewed as necessary 
 constituents of the nature of the thinking principle itself. 
 Philosophers have indeed been found to deny the reality of 
 such cognitions native to the mind ; and to confine the 
 whole sphere of human knowledge to the limits of experi- 
 ence. But in this case philosophers have overlooked the 
 important circumstance, that the acts, that is, the appre- 
 hension and judgment, of experience, are themselves 
 impossible, except under the supposition of certain potential 
 cognitions previously existent in the thinking subject, and 
 which become actual on occasion of an object being pre- 
 sented to the external or internal sense. As an example of 
 a noetic cognition, the following propositions may suffice : 
 An object and all its attributes are convertible; All 
 that is has its sufficient cause. The principal distinctions
 
 RECORDED TESTIMOHY. 191 
 
 of Empirical and Rational Knowledges, or rather Empirical 
 and Noetic Cognitions, are the following : 
 
 Principal distinc- -.o -c i rv i^- 
 
 tion. of Empirical ~ l > Empirical Cognitions originate ex- 
 
 *nd Noetic Cogni- clusively in experience, whereas Noetic 
 Cognitions are virtually at least before 
 or above all experience, all experience being only 
 possible through them. 2, Empirical cognitions come 
 piecemeal and successively into existence, and may again 
 gradually fade and disappear ; whereas noetic cognitions, 
 like Pallas, armed and immortal from the head of Jupiter, 
 spring at once into existence, complete and indestructible. 
 3, Empirical cognitions find only an application to these 
 objects from which they were originally abstracted, and, 
 according as things obtain a different form, they also 
 may become differently fashioned ; noetic cognitions, on 
 the contrary, bear the character impressed on them of 
 necessity, universality, sameness. Whether a cognition 
 be empirical or noetic, can only be determined by con- 
 sidering whether it can or cannot be presented in a sensible 
 perception ; whether it do or do not stand forward clear, 
 distinct, and indestructible, bearing the stamp of necessity 
 and absolute universality. The noetic cognitions can 
 be detected only by a critical analysis of the mental 
 phenomena proposed for the purpose of their discovery ; 
 and this analysis may, as I have said, be styled Speculation, 
 for want of a more appropriate appellation.
 
 LECTURE IX. MODIFIED METHODOLOGY. 
 SECTION I. OF THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 III. COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. A. INSTRUC- 
 TIONORAL AND WRITTEN. B. CONFERENCE 
 DIALOGUE AND DISPUTATION. 
 
 I NOW go on to the last Mean of Acquiring and Perfect- 
 ing our knowledge ; and commence with the following 
 paragraph : 
 
 1T XXII. An important mean for the Acquisition 
 and Perfecting of Knowledge is the 
 
 Par. XXII. The Communication of Thought. Con- 
 Communication of i . 
 
 Thought, as a sidered in general, the Communication 
 means of Acquir- o f thought is either One-sided, or 
 
 ing and Perfecting 
 
 Knowiedg*. Mutual. The former is called in- 
 
 struction (institutioj, the latter, Con- 
 ference (collocvMo); but these, though in theory distinct, 
 are in practice easily combined. Instruction is again 
 either Oral or Written ; and Conference, as it is inter- 
 locutory and familiar, or controversial and solemn, may 
 be divided into Dialogue (colloquium, dialogus). and 
 Disputation (disputatio, concertatioj. The Communi- 
 cation of thought in all its forms is a means of intel-
 
 COMMUNICATION OP KNOWLEDGE. 193 
 
 lectual improvement, not only to him who receives, but 
 to him who I>e8tows, information ; in both relations, 
 therefore, it ought to be considered, and not, as is 
 usually done, in the former only. 
 
 In illustrating this paragraph, I shall commence with the 
 last sentence, and, before treating in detail 
 
 Expltaatlon. 
 
 of Instruction and Conference, as means 
 of extending the limits of our knowledge by new acquisi- 
 tions derived from the communication of others, I shall 
 endeavour to show, that the Communica* 
 The Communication tion of Thought is itself an important mean 
 l? a ^ towards Ae Perfecting of knowledge in the 
 the perfecting of mind of the communicator himself. In 
 Knowledge in the this view, the communication of knowledge 
 
 mind of the com- 
 municator, is like the attribute of mercy, twice 
 
 blessed, " blessed to him that gives and 
 to him that takes ;" in teaching others we in fact teach 
 ourselves. 
 
 This view of the reflex effect of the communication of 
 thought on the mind, whether under the form of Instruction 
 or of Conference, is one of high importance, but it is one 
 which has, in modern times, unfortunately been almost 
 wholly overlooked. To illustrate it in all its bearings would 
 require a volume ; at present I can only contribute a few 
 hints towards its exposition. 
 
 Man is, by an original tendency of his nature, determined 
 to communicate to others what occupies 
 his thoughts, and by this communication 
 
 tcrniincd to com- ' 
 
 munication. he obtains a clearer understanding of the 
 
 Thb fct noticed gubject of his cogitations than he could 
 
 otherwise have compassed. This fact did 
 
 not escape the acutcness of Plato. In the Protagoras, 
 
 10
 
 19 i HODIFIEI* LOGIC, 
 
 "It has been well," says Plato (and he has had sundry 
 passages to the point), "It has been well, I think, observed 
 by Homer 
 
 'Through mutual intercourse and mmtual aid, 
 Great deeds are done and great discoveries made ; 
 The wise new wisdom on the wise bestow, 
 Whilst the lone thinker's thoughts come slight and slow.' 
 
 For in company we r all of us, are more alert, in deed and 
 word and thought. And if a man excogitate aught by 
 Mmself, forthwith he goes about to find some one to whom he 
 may reveal it, and from whom he may obtain encouragement, 
 aye and until his discovery be completed" The same doc- 
 trine is maintained by Aristotle, and illus- 
 Aristotle. trated by the same quotation ; (to which, 
 
 indeed, is to-be referred the adage, " Unus 
 
 Themiatius, _ , * Xlr . . 
 
 homo, nwllus homo") * We rejoice, says 
 
 Lucfliua, Themistius, " in hunting truth in company, 
 
 as in hunting game," Lucilius, "Stirs 
 
 tstnescire, nisi id me scire alius scierit ;" paraphrased in the 
 
 compacter, though, far inferior, verse of Persius, "Scire 
 
 tuum nihil est, nisi te acire hoc sciat alter." 
 
 Persiusv Cicero's Cato testifies to the same truth : 
 
 Cicero- u Non facile est invenire, qui quod sciat 
 
 Seneca. ip se > non ^^ at alteri." And Seneca : 
 
 " Sic cum hoc exceptions detur saptentia, ut 
 
 Ulam inclusam tensamnec entmciem, rejiciara,. NuUius boni, 
 
 sine socio, jucunda possessio est." 
 
 M Cmdita iabeseit, vwlgata scientia cresctt." 
 
 u In hoc gaudeo aliquid discere, ut doceam: nee me ulla res 
 delectabit, licet extmia sit et salutaris, quam mihi uni, scituru 
 rim." " Ita non solum ad discendum propensi sumus, verum 
 etiam ad docendum"
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 195 
 
 The modes in which the Communication of thought is 
 
 conducive to the perfecting of thought 
 
 Modes in which itself, are two ; for the mind may be de- 
 
 communiction is termilied to more exalted energy by the 
 
 conduct veto the Per- > OJ J 
 
 tecting of Thought sympathy of society, and by the stimulus 
 * two - of opposition ; or it may be necessitated to 
 
 more distinct, accurate, and orderly think- 
 ing, as this is the condition of distinct, accurate, and orderly 
 communication. Of these the former requires the presence 
 of others during the act of thought, and is, therefore, only 
 manifested in oral instruction or in conference : whereas 
 the latter is operative both in our oral and in our written 
 communications. Of these in their order. 
 
 In the first place, then, the influence of man on man in 
 
 reciprocally determining a higher energy of 
 
 i. By reciprocally ^he faculties, is a phenomenon sufficiently 
 
 determining highr . . 
 
 energy of the fcui- manifest. By nature a social being, man 
 ties. has powers which are relative to, and, con- 
 
 n.- sequently, find, their development in, the 
 
 company of his fellows ; and this is more 
 particularly shown in the energies of the cognitive faculties. 
 " As iron sharpeneth iron," says Solomon, " so a man 
 sharpeneth the understanding of his friend." This, as I 
 have said, is effected both by fellow-feeling and by opposition. 
 Wo see the effects of fellow-feeling in the necessity of an 
 audience to call forth the exertions of the orator. Eloquence 
 requires numbers ; and oratory has only flourished where 
 
 the condition of large audiences has been 
 rotig* oppo- guppije^ B u t opposition is perhaps still 
 
 more powerful than mere sympathy in 
 calling out the resources of the intellect.
 
 196 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 In the mental as well as in the material world, action and 
 reaction are ever equal : and Plutarch well 
 
 Plutarch. 
 
 observes, that as motion would cease were 
 
 contention to be taken out of the physical universe, so pro- 
 gress in improvement would cease were contention taken out 
 of the moral j TroAc/Aos aTrdvrwv Trariyp. 
 
 " It is maintained," says the subtle Scaliger, " by Vives, 
 that we profit more by silent meditation 
 
 Scaliger, J. C. 
 
 than by dispute. This is not true. For 
 as fire is elicited by the collision of stones, so truth is 
 elicited by the collision of minds. I myself (he adds) 
 frequently meditate by myself long and intently ; but in 
 vain ; unless I find an antagonist, there is no hope of a suc- 
 cessful issue. By a master we are more excited than by a 
 book ; but an antagonist, whether by his pertinacity or his 
 wisdom, is to me a double master." 
 
 But, in the second place, the necessity of communicating 
 
 a piece of knowledge to others, imposes 
 
 2. By imposingthe upon us the necessity of obtaining a fuller 
 
 necessityofobtaining consciousness of that knowledge for our- 
 
 a fuller consciousness . _.. . 
 
 of knowledge for our- selves. This result is to a certain extent 
 selves. secured by the very process of clothing 
 
 our cogitations in words. For speech is 
 an analytic process ; and to express our thoughts in language, 
 it is requisite to evolve them from the implicit into the 
 explicit, from the confused into the distinct, in order to 
 bestow on each part of the organic totality of a thought its 
 precise and appropriate symbol. But to do this is in fact 
 only to accomplish the first step towards the perfecting of 
 our cognitions or thoughts. 
 
 But the communication of thought, in its higher applica-
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 197 
 
 tions, imposes on us far more than this ; and in so doing it 
 reacts with a still more beneficial influence on our habits of 
 thinking. Suppose that we are not merely to express our 
 thoughts as they spontaneously arise ; suppose that we are 
 not merely extemporaneously to speak, but deliberately to 
 write, and that what we are to communicate is not a simple 
 and easy, but a complex and difficult, matter. In this case, 
 no man will ever fully understand his sub- 
 influence of Compo- ject who has not studied it with the view 
 
 Bitlon and Instnic- /. . t M . i_ e 
 
 tioninperfecangour of communication, while the power of 
 Knowledge. communicating a subject is the only com- 
 
 petent criterion of his fully understanding 
 Godwin quoted. it. " "When a man," says Godwin, " writes 
 a book of methodical investigation, he does 
 not write because he understands the subject, but he under- 
 stands the subject because he has written. He was an 
 uninstructed tyro, exposed to a thousand foolish and miser- 
 able mistakes, when he began his work, compared with the 
 degree of proficiency to which he has attained when he has 
 finished it. He who is now an eminent philosopher, or a 
 sublime poet, was formerly neither the one nor the other. 
 Many a man has been overtaken by a premature death, and 
 left nothing behind him but compositions worthy of ridicule 
 and contempt, who, if he had lived, would perhaps have 
 risen to the highest literary eminence. If we could examine 
 the school exercises of men who have afterwards done 
 honour to mankind, we should often find them inferior to 
 those of their ordinary competitors. If we could dive into 
 the portfolios of their early youth, we should meet with 
 abundant matter for laughter at their senseless incongruities, 
 and for contemptuous astonishment.
 
 198 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 " The one exclusive sign," says Aristotle, " that a man 
 is thoroughly cognizant of anything, is 
 
 Aristotle. J 
 
 that he is able to teach it ;" and Ovid, 
 " Quodque parum novit nemo docere potest." 
 
 In this reactive effect of the communication of knowledge 
 in determining the pei-fection of the knowledge communi- 
 cated, originated the scholastic maxim Doce ut discas, a 
 maxim which has unfortunately been too much overlooked 
 in the schemes of modern education. In former ages, teach 
 tJiat you may learn always constituted one 
 at least of the great means of intellectual 
 cultivation. "To teach," says Plato, "is 
 the way for a man to learn most and best." " Homines dum 
 docent discunt" says Seneca. " In teaching," says Clement 
 of Alexandria, " the instructor often learns 
 Clement of Alex- more than his pupils." "'Disce seda doctis ; 
 
 andria, . . . 
 
 Dionysius Cato. ^ndocto3 ^pse doceto, is the precept of 
 Dionysius Cato ; and the two following 
 were maxims of authority in the discipline of the middle 
 ages. The first 
 
 " Multa rogare, rogata tenere, reienta docere, 
 Haec tria, discipulum faciunt superare magistrum." 
 
 The second 
 
 " Dlscere si qitaeris doceas ; sic ipse doceris ; 
 Nam studio tali tibi praficis atque sodali." 
 
 This truth is also well enforced by the great Vives. " Doc- 
 
 trina est traditio corum quae quis novit ei 
 Vives. 
 
 qui non novit. Disciplina est illius tradt- 
 tionis acceptio ; nisi quod mens accipientis impletur, dantis 
 vero non exJiauritur, imo communicatione angetur eruditio,
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 199 
 
 *icul ignis, motu Clique agitationc. Excitatw enim ingenium, 
 t dixcurrit per ea quae ad pratseiu negotium pertinent : ita 
 inven.it *tque excudit multa, et quae in ntcntem non vcniebant 
 cessanti, decenti, ami disserenti occur uni, calore acueiite vig- 
 orfin inyeuii. Idcirco, nikil est ad maguam erudUtonem 
 perinde conduccns, tit docere." The celebrated logician, 
 
 Dr. Robert Sanderson, used to say : " I 
 tedenoo. 
 
 learn much from my master, more from 
 
 my equals, ami most of all from my disciples." 
 
 But I have occupied perhaps too much time on the 
 influence of the communication of know- 
 of led S e ^ tliO8e b y whom k is made ; and 
 OB thoe shall now pose on to tlio consideration of 
 
 rhom it a- j^ ijjfluenoe oa those to whom it is ad- 
 
 NHM 
 
 dressed. Aud in treating of communica- 
 tion in this respect, I shall, in the first place, consider it as 
 One-sided, and, i the second, as Reciprocal or Bilateral. 
 
 The Unilateral Communication of knowledge, or Instruc- 
 tion, is of two kinds, for it is either Oral or Written ; bat as 
 both these species of instruction propose the same end, they 
 
 are both, to a certain extent, subject to 
 
 1. Instruction. ,1 i 
 
 the same laws. 
 
 Oral and Written. 
 
 Oral and Written Instruction have each 
 their peculiar advantages. 
 
 In the first place, instruction by the living voice Jias this 
 
 advantage over that of books, that, as more 
 
 Oral injunction, natural, it is more impressive. Hearing 
 
 rt More natural, >"o u ^s the attention and keeps it alive far 
 
 there/ore more im- more effectually than reading. To this we 
 
 ' have the testimony of the most competent 
 
 observers. " Hearing," says Theophrastua, 
 
 " i* of all the senses the most pathetic," that Is, it is the
 
 200 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 sense most intimately associated with, sentiment and passion. 
 " Multo magis," says the Younger Pliny, 
 
 Younger Pliny. * ' 
 
 " multo magis viva vox afficit. Nam, licet 
 
 ncriora sunt quce legas, altius tamen in animo sedent quce 
 
 pronuntiatio, mdtus, habitus, gestus etiam dicentis adfigit." 
 
 "Plus prodest" says Valerius Maximus, " docentem 
 
 _, , . _, . audiere, quam in libris studere : quia ve- 
 
 Valenus Maximus. .... 
 
 hementior jit impressio in mentibus audi- 
 
 entium, ex wsu doctoris et auditu, quam ex studio et libro." 
 
 And St. Jerome " Habet nescio quid latentis energice 
 
 viva vox : et in aures discijmli de doctoris 
 
 St. Jerome. . J 
 
 ore transfusa, fortius sonat" 
 
 A second reason why our Attention (and Memory is 
 
 always in the ratio of Attention) to things 
 
 (b) Less permanent S p O ken is greater than to things read, is 
 
 therefore more at- ... 
 
 tended to. * na " ; w at is written we regard as a per- 
 
 manent possession to which we can always 
 recur at pleasure ; whereas we are conscious that the 
 " winged words" are lost to us forever, if we do not catch 
 them as they fly. As Pliny hath it : " Legendi semper est 
 occasio ; audiendi non semper. v 
 
 A third cause of the superior efficacy of oral instruction 
 
 is that man is a social animal. He is thus naturally disposed 
 
 to find pleasure in society, and in the performance of the 
 
 actions -performed by those with whom he consorts. But 
 
 reading is a solitary, hearing is a social act. In reading, 
 
 we are not determined to attend by any fellow-feeling with 
 
 others attending ; whereas in hearing, our 
 
 attention is not only engaged by our sym- 
 
 cial act. J J J 
 
 pathy with the speaker, but by our sym- 
 pathy with the other attentive auditors around us. 
 
 Such are the causes which concur in rendering Oral
 
 COMMUNICATION- OF KNOWLEDGE. 201 
 
 Instruction more effectual than Written. "M. Varillas," 
 says Menage (and Varillas was one of the 
 
 Menage quoted. j r j I_-_L 
 
 most learned of modern historians.- and 
 Menage one of the most learned of modern scholars), 
 "M. Varillas himself told me one day, that of every ten 
 things he knew, he had learned nine of them in conversation. 
 I myself might say nearly the same thing." 
 
 On the other hand, Heading, though only a substitute for 
 Oral Instruction, has likewise advantages 
 nading,-Ua *d- peculiar to itself. In the first place, it is 
 - more **s&Y accessible. In the second, it 
 
 v 
 (xsit>ie. is more comprehensive in its sphere of 
 
 (b) More oompre- operation. In the third, it is not transitory 
 
 '''''"'"' i i_ i_ a 
 
 (c) More prmw>- ~^iih the voice, but may again and again 
 
 * be taken up and considered, so that the 
 
 object of the instruction may thus more 
 fully be examined and brought to proof. It is thus manifest, 
 that oral and written instruction severally supply and 
 severally support each other ; and that, where this is com- 
 petent, they ought always to be employed in conjunction. 
 Oral instruction is, however, in the earlier stages of educa- 
 tion, of principal importance ; and written ought, therefore, 
 at first only to be brought in as a subsidiary. A neglect of 
 the oral instruction, and an exclusive employment of the 
 written, the way in which those who are self-taught (the 
 autodidacti) obtain . their education, for the most pm-t 
 betrays its one-sided influence by a contracted cultivation 
 of the intellect, with a deficiency in the power of communi- 
 cating knowledge to others. 
 
 Oral instruction necessarily supposes a speaker and a 
 hearer ; and written instruction a writer and a reader. In 
 these, the capacity of the speaker and of the writer must 
 10*
 
 202 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 equally fulfil certain common requisites. In the first place, 
 they should be fully masters of Ihe subject with which their 
 instruction is conversant ; and in the second, they should be 
 able and willing to communicate to others the knowledge 
 which they themselves possess. But in reference to these 
 several species of instruction, there are various special rules 
 that ought to be attended to by those who would reap the 
 advantages they severally afford. I shall commence with 
 Written Instruction, and comprise the rules by which it 
 ought to be regulated, in the following paragraph. 
 
 U XXIII. In regard to Written Instruction, and 
 
 its profitable employment as a means 
 
 Par. xxill. Writ- o f intellectual improvement, there 
 
 ten Instruction, 
 
 and its employ- are certain rules which ought to be 
 ment as a means o b serve( j and which together consti- 
 
 of intellectual im- 
 provement, tute the Proper Method of Reading. 
 
 These may be reduced to three classes, 
 as they regard, 1, The Quantity, 2, The Quality, of 
 what is to be read, or, 3, The Mode of Heading what 
 is to be read. 
 
 I. As concerns the Quantity of what is to be read, 
 there is a single rule, read much, but not many 
 works (multum non multa). 
 
 II. As concerns the Quality of what is to be read, 
 there may be given five rules, l v Select the works of 
 principal importance, estimated by relation to the 
 several sciences themselves, or to your particular aim 
 in reading, or to your individual disposition and 
 wants. 2, Read riot the more detailed works upon 
 a science, until you have obtained a rudimentary 
 knowledge of it in general. 3, Make yourselves 
 familiar ^ith a science in its actual or present
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 203 
 
 state, before you proceed to study it in its chronolo- 
 gical development. 4, To avoid erroneous and 
 exclusive views, read and compare together the more 
 important works of every sect and party. 5, To avoid 
 a one-sided development of mind, combine with the 
 study of works which cultivate the Understanding, the 
 study of works which cultivate the Taste. 
 
 III. As concerns the Mode or Manner of reading 
 itself, there are four principal rules. 1, Read that 
 you may accurately remember, but still more, that 
 you may fully understand. 2, Strive to compass the 
 general tenor of a work, before you attempt to judge 
 of it in detail. 3, Accommodate the intensity of the 
 reading to the importance of the work. Some books 
 are, therefore, to be only dipped into ; others are to be 
 run over rapidly ; and others to be studied long and 
 sedulously. 4, Regulate on the same principle the ex- 
 tracts which you make from the works you read. 
 I. In reference to the head of Quantity, the single rule 
 is Read much, but not many works. Though this golden 
 rule has risen in importance, since the 
 
 Explication. WOrld > bv the art f P rintin g. has **** 
 
 i. quantity to be overwhelmed by the multitude of books, 
 
 it was still fully recognized by the great 
 
 Solomon. thinkers of antiquity. It is even hinted 
 
 (juintiuun. by Solomon, when he complains that " of 
 
 Younger Pliny. . .. . , . , . 
 
 v making many books there is no end. J3y 
 
 Luther quoted. Quintillian, by the younger Pliny, and by 
 
 Seneca, the maxim, "multum Ugendum 
 
 eM, non mulla" is laid down as the great rule of study. 
 
 " All," says Luther in his Table Talk, " who would study 
 
 with ad vantage in any art whatsoever, ought to betake
 
 204 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 themselves to the reading of some sure and certain books 
 oftentimes over ; for to read many books produceth con- 
 fusion, rather than learning, like as those who dwell every- 
 where, are not anywhere at home." He alludes here to the 
 saying of Seneca, " Nusquam eat qui vJtnque est." And like 
 as in society, we use not daily the community of all our 
 acquaintances, but of some few selected friends, even so 
 likewise ought we to accustom ourselves to the best books, 
 and to make the same familiar unto us, thai is, to have 
 them, as we used to say, at our finger ends. The great 
 logician, Bishop Sanderson, to whom I 
 formerly referred, as his friend and bio- 
 grapher Isaac Walton informs us, said " that he declined 
 reading many books ; but what he did read were well 
 chosen, and read so often that he became very familiar with 
 them. They were principally three, Aristotle's Hhetoric, 
 Aquinas's Secunda Secundoe^ and Cicero, particularly his 
 Offices" The ereat Lord Burleigh, we 
 
 Lord Burleigh. * . . 6 ' 
 
 are told by his biographer, earned Cicero 
 
 De Ojficiis, with Aristotle's Rhetoric, always in his bosom ; 
 
 these being complete pieces, " that would make both a 
 
 scholar and an honest man." " Our age," 
 
 Herder. 
 
 says Herder, " is the reading age ;" and 
 he adds, " it would have been better, in my opinion, for the 
 world and for science, if, instead of the multitude of books 
 which now overlay us, we possessed only a few works good 
 and sterling, and which, as few, would, therefore, be more 
 diligently and profoundly studied." I might quote to you 
 many other testimonies to the same effect ; but testimonies 
 are useless in support of so manifest a truth. 
 
 For what purpose, with what intent, do we read ? We 
 read not for the sake of reading, but we read to the end
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KHOWLEDOE. 206 
 
 that we may think. Reading is valuable only as it may 
 supply to us the materials which the mind 
 
 End of Reading. 
 
 itself elaborates. As it is not the largest 
 quantity of any kind of food, taken into the stomach, that 
 conduces to health, but such a quantity of such a kind as 
 can be best digested ; so it is not the greatest complement 
 of any kind of information that improves the mind, but 
 such a quantity of such a kind as determines the intellect 
 to most vigorous energy. The only profitable reading is 
 that in which we are compelled to think, and think in- 
 tensely ; whereas that reading which serves only to dissipate 
 and divert our thought, is either positively hurtful, or useful 
 only as an occasional relaxation from severe exertion. But 
 the amount of vigorous thinking is usually in the inverse 
 ratio of multifarious reading. Multifarious reading is 
 agreeable ; but, as a habit, it is, in its way, as destructive 
 to the mental as dram-drinking is to the bodily health. 
 II. In reference to the Quality of what is to be read, 
 the First of the five rules is " Select the 
 works of principal importance, in accom- 
 modation either to the several sciences 
 
 runt Kule. 
 
 themselves, or to your particular aim in 
 reading, or to your individual disposition and wants. This 
 rule is too manifestly true to require any illustration of 
 its tiuth. No one will deny that for the accomplishment 
 of an end you Qught to employ the means best calculated 
 for its accomplishment This is all that the rule incul- 
 cates. But while there is no difficulty about the expediency 
 of obeying the rule, there is often considerable difficulty 
 in obeying it. To know what lxx)ks ought to be read in 
 order to learn a science, is in fiict frequently obtained after 
 the science has been already learned. On this point no
 
 206 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 general advice can be given. We have, on all of the 
 sciences, works which profess to supply the advice which 
 the student here requires. But in general, I must say, 
 they are of small assistance in pointing out what books we 
 should select, however useful they may be in showing us 
 what books exist upon a science. In this respect, the 
 British student also labours under peculiar disadvantages. 
 The libraries in this country are, one and all of them, 
 wretchedly imperfect ; and there are few departments of 
 science in which they are not destitute even of the works 
 of primary necessity, works which, from their high priee, 
 but more frequently from the difficulty of procuring them, 
 are beyond the reach of ordinary readers. 
 
 Under the head of Quality the Second Rule is " Read 
 not the more detailed works upon a science, 
 
 Second Rule. . 
 
 until you have obtained a rudimentary 
 knowledge of it in general." The expediency of this rule 
 is sufficiently apparent. It is altogether impossible to read 
 with advantage an extensive work on any branch of know- 
 ledge, if we are not previously aware of its general bearing, 
 and of the relations in which its several parts stand to 
 each other. In this case, the mind is overpowered and . 
 oppressed by the mass of details presented to it, details, 
 the significance and subordination of which it is as yet 
 unable to recognize. A conspectus, a survey of the science 
 as a whole, ought, therefore, to precede the study of it in 
 its parts ; we should be aware of its distribution, before 
 we attend to what is distributed, we should possess the 
 empty frame-work, before we collect the materials with 
 which it is to be filled. Hence the utility of an ency- 
 clopaedical knowledge of the sciences in general, preliminary 
 to a study of the several sciences in particular ; that is,
 
 COMMUNICATION OP KNOWLEDGE. 207 
 
 a summary knowledge of their objects, their extent, their 
 connection with each other. By this means the student 
 is enabled to steer his way on the wide ocean of science. 
 By this means he always knows whereabouts he is, and 
 becomes aware of the point towards which his author is 
 leading him. 
 
 In entering upon the study of such authors as Plato, 
 Aristotle, Descartes, Spinoza, Leibnitz, Locke, Kant, etc., 
 it is, therefore, proper that we first obtain a preparatory 
 acquaintance with the scope, both of their philosophy in 
 general, and of the particular work on which we are about 
 to enter. In the case of writers of such ability this is not 
 difficult to do, as there are abundance of subsidiary works, 
 affording the preliminary knowledge of which we are in quest. 
 But in the case of treatises where similar assistance is not 
 at hand, we may often, in some degree, prepare ourselves 
 for a regular perusal, by examining the table of contents, 
 and taking a cursory inspection of its several departments. 
 In this respect, and also in others, the following advice of 
 
 Gibbon to young students is highly de- 
 Gibbon quoted. 
 
 serving of attention. " After a rapid 
 
 glance (I translate from the original French) after a rapid 
 glance on the subject and distribution of a new book, I 
 suspend the reading of it, which I only resume after having 
 myself examined the subject in all its relations, after 
 having called up in my solitary walks all that I have read, 
 thought, or learned in regard to the subject of the whole 
 book, or of some chapter in particular. I thus place 
 myself in a condition to estimate what the author may add 
 to my general stock of knowledge ; and I am thus some- 
 times favorably disposed by the accordance, sometimes 
 armed by the opposition, of our views.
 
 208 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 The third Rule under the head of Quality is " Make 
 yourselves familiar with a science in its 
 
 Third Rule. 
 
 present state, before you proceed to study 
 it in its chronological development." The propriety of this 
 procedure is likewise manifest. Unless we be acquainted 
 with a science in its more advanced state, it is impossible to 
 distinguish between what is more or less important, and, 
 consequently, impossible to determine what is or is not 
 worthy of attention in the doctrines of its earlier cultivators. 
 We shall thus also be overwhelmed by the infinitude of 
 details successively presented to us ; all will be confusion 
 and darkness where all ought to be order and light. It is 
 thus improper to study philosophy historically, or in its past 
 progress, before we have studied it statistically, or in its 
 actual results. 
 
 The Fourth Rule under the same head is " To avoid 
 erroneous and exclusive views, read and 
 
 Fourth Rule. 
 
 compare together the more important works 
 of every party." In proportion as different opinions may be 
 entertained in regard to the objects of a science, the more 
 necessary is it that we should weigh with care and imparti- 
 ality the reasons on which these different opinions rest. 
 Such a science, in particular, is philosophy, and such sciences, 
 in general, are those which proceed out of philosophy. In 
 the philosophical sciences, we ought, therefore, to be especi- 
 ally on our guard against that partiality which considers 
 only the arguments in favor of particular opinions. It is 
 true that in the writings of one party we find adduced the 
 reasons of the opposite party ; but frequently so distorted, 
 so mutilated, so enervated, that their refutation occasions 
 little effort. We must, therefore, study the arguments on 
 both sides, if we would avoid those one-sided and contracted
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 209 
 
 views which are the result of party-spirit. The precept of 
 the Apostle, " Test all things, hold fast by that which is 
 good," is a precept which is applicable equally in philosophy 
 as in theology, but a precept that has not been more fre- 
 quently neglected in the one study than in the other. 
 
 The Fifth Rule under the head of Quality is To avoid 
 a one-sided development of mind, combine 
 
 Fifth ttule. 
 
 with the study of works which cultivate 
 the Understanding, the study of works which cultivate the 
 Taste." The propriety of this rule requires no elucidation ; 
 
 I, therefore, pass on to the third head 
 m. Manner of v j z ^ t jj e manner o f reading itself: under 
 
 Reading. 
 
 First Rule which the First Rule is " Read that you 
 
 may accurately remember, but still more 
 that you may fully understand." 
 
 This also requires no comment. Reading should not 
 be a learning by rote, but an act of reflective thinking. 
 Memory is only a subsidiary faculty, is valuable merely as 
 supplying the materials on which the understanding is to 
 operate. We read, therefore, principally, not to remember 
 facts, but to understand relations. To commit, therefore, to 
 memory what we read, before we elaborate it into an intel- 
 lectual possession, is not only useless but detrimental ; for 
 the habit of laying up in memory what has not been digested 
 by the understanding, is at once the cause and the effect of 
 mental weakness. 
 
 The Second Rule under this head is " Strive to compass 
 
 the general tenor of a work, before you 
 Second Rule. ... , ., -w T i. 
 
 attempt to judge of it in detail. Nothing 
 
 can be more absurd than the attempt to judge a part before 
 comprehending the whole ; but unfortunately nothing ia
 
 .210 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 more common, especially among professional critics, 
 reviewers. This proceeding is, however, as frequently 
 the effect of wilful misrepresentation, as of uninten- 
 tional error. 
 
 The Third Rule under this head is " Accommodate the 
 
 intensity of the reading to the importance 
 
 of the work. Some books are, therefore, 
 
 to be only dipped into ; others are to be run over rapidly ; 
 
 and others to be studied long and sedulously." All books 
 
 are not to be read with the same attention; and, accordingly, 
 
 an ancient distinction was taken of reading into lectio 
 
 cursoria and lectio stataria. The former of 
 
 Lectio eunoria. thege wg haye ad ted ^to English, CUr- 
 
 Lectio statana. 
 
 sorary reading being a familiar and correct 
 translation of lectio cursoria. But lectio stataria cannot be 
 so well rendered by the expression of stationary reading. 
 
 " Read not," says Bacon, in his Fiftieth 
 
 Bacon quoted. 
 
 Kasay " read not to contradict and con- 
 fute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk 
 and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are 
 to be tasted, others are to be swallowed, and some few to be 
 chewed and digested ; that is, some books are to be read 
 only in parts ; others to be read, but not curiously ; and 
 some few to be read wholly and with diligence and attention. 
 Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made 
 of them by others ; but that would be only in the less 
 important arguments, and the meaner sort of books ; else 
 distilled books are, like common distilled waters, fleshy 
 
 things." " One kind of book," says the 
 
 Jshann von Muller. . . -.. n // T 
 
 great historian, Johann von Muller, " I 
 read with great rapidity, for in these there is much dross
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 211 
 
 to throw aside, and little gold to be found ; some, however, 
 there are all gold and diamonds, and he who, for example, 
 in Tacitus can read more than twenty pages in four hours, 
 certainly does not understand him." 
 
 Rapidity in reading depends, however, greatly on our 
 acquaintance with the subject of discussion. At first, upon 
 a science we can only read with profit few books, and labo- 
 riously. By degrees, however, our knowledge of the 
 matters treated -expands, the reasonings appear more manifest, 
 we advance more easily, until at length we are able, 
 without overlooking anything of importance, to read with 
 a velocity which appears almost incredible for those who are 
 only commencing the study. 
 
 The Fourth Rule under this head is " Regulate on the 
 same principle the extracts which you 
 
 Fourth Rule. 
 
 make from the works you read. 
 
 So much for the Unilateral Communication of thought, 
 as a mean of knowledge. We now proceed to the Mutual 
 Communication of thought, Conference. 
 
 This is either mere Conversation, mere 
 Dialogue, or Formal Dispute, and at 
 
 present we consider both of these exclu- 
 sively only as a means of knowledge, only as a means for 
 the communication of truth. 
 
 The employment of Dialogue as such a mean, requires 
 
 great skill and dexterity ; for presence of 
 
 mind, confidence, tact, and pliability are 
 
 necessary for this, and these are only obtained by exercise, 
 
 independently of natural talent. This was the method which 
 
 Socrates almost exclusively employed in the communication of 
 
 knowledge ; and he called it his art of intellectual midwifery t
 
 212 MODIFIED LOGIC. 
 
 because in its application truth is not given over by the 
 master to the disciple, but the master, by skilful questioning, 
 only helps the disciple to deliver himself of the truth 
 explicity, which his mind had before held implicitly. This 
 method is not, however, applicable to all kinds of knowledge, 
 but only to those which the human intellect is able to evolve 
 out of itself, that is, only to the cognitions of Pure Reason. 
 Disputation is of two principal kinds, inasmuch as it is oral 
 or written ; and in both cases, the controversy may be con- 
 ducted either by the rules of strict logical disputation, or 
 left to the freedom of debate. Without entering on details, 
 it may be sufficient to state, in regard to 
 2. Disputation, Logical disputation, that it is here essential 
 
 Oral and Written. tn&t the j nt j n quegt j on tne status con . 
 
 Academical dispu- 
 tation, troversice, the thesis, should, in the first 
 
 place, be accurately determined, in order to 
 prevent all logomachy, or mere verbal wrangling. This 
 being done, that disputant who denies the thesis, and who is 
 called the opponent, may either call upon the disputant who 
 affirms the thesis, and who is called the defendant, to allege 
 an argument in its support, or he may at once himself 
 produce his counter-argument. To avoid, however, all 
 misunderstanding, the opponent should also advance an 
 antithesis, that is, a proposition conflictive with the thesis, 
 and when this has been denied by the defendant the process 
 of argumentation commences. This proceeds in regular 
 syllogisms, and is governed by definite rules, which are all 
 so calculated that the discussion is not allowed to wander 
 from the point at issue, and each disputant is compelled, in 
 reference to every syllogism of his adversary, either to 
 admit, or to deny, or to distinguish. These rules you will
 
 COMMUNICATION OF KNOWLEDGE. 213 
 
 find in most of the older systems of Logic ; in particular I 
 may refer you to them as detailed in Heerebord's Praxis 
 Logica, to be found at the end of his edition of the Synopsis 
 of Burgersdicius. The practice of disputation was long and 
 justly regarded as the most important of academical exer- 
 cises ; though liable to abuse, the good which it certainly 
 ensures greatly surpasses the evil which it may accidentally 
 occasion. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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