Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th Edition, "Logarithm" to "Lord Advocate" / Volume 16, Slice 8 Papyras Classics

← Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th Edition, "Logarithm" to "Lord Advocate" / Volume 16, Slice 8

Chapter 1

Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th Edition, "Logarithm" to "Lord Advocate" (part 1)

The Encyclopædia Britannica

A Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, Literature and General Information

Eleventh Edition

Articles in This Slice

LOGARITHM LONG, JOHN DAVIS

LOGAU, FRIEDRICH LONG BRANCH

LOGIA LONGCLOTH

LOGIC LONG EATON

LOGOCYCLIC CURVE, STROPHOID or FOLIATE LONGEVITY

LOGOGRAPHI LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH

LOGOS LONG FIVES

LOGOTHETE LONGFORD (county of Ireland)

LOGROÑO (province of Spain) LONGFORD (town of Ireland)

LOGROÑO (Spanish town) LONGHI, PIETRO

LOGROSCINO, NICOLA LONGINUS, CASSIUS

LOGWOOD LONG ISLAND

LOHARU LONG ISLAND CITY

LÖHE, JOHANN KONRAD WILHELM LONGITUDE

LOHENGRIN LONGLEY, CHARLES THOMAS

LOIN LONGMANS

LOIRE (river of France) LONGOMONTANUS, CHRISTIAN SEVERIN

LOIRE (department of France) LONGSTREET, JAMES

LOIRE-INFÉRIEURE LONGTON

LOIRET LONGUEVILLE

LOIR-ET-CHER LONGUEVILLE, ANNE GENEVIÈVE

LOISY, ALFRED FIRMIN LONGUS

LOJA LONGWY

LOKEREN LÖNNROT, ELIAS

LOKOJA LONSDALE, EARLS OF

LOLLARDS LONSDALE, WILLIAM

LOLLIUS, MARCUS LONS-LE-SAUNIER

LOLOS LOO

LOMBARD LEAGUE LOOE

LOMBARDO LOOM (water-birds)

LOMBARDS LOOM (weaving machine)

LOMBARDY LOÓN

LOMBOK LOOP

LOMBROSO, CESARE LOOSESTRIFE

LOMÉNIE DE BRIENNE, ÉTIENNE CHARLES DE LOOT

LOMOND, LOCH LOPES, FERNÃO

LOMONÓSOV, MIKHAIL VASILIEVICH LOPEZ, CARLOS ANTONIO

LOMZA (government of Russian) LOPEZ DE GÓMARA, FRANCISCO

LOMZA (town of Russia) LOP-NOR

LONAULI LOQUAT

LONDON (Canada) LORAIN

LONDON (capital of England) LORALAI

LONDON CLAY LORCA

LONDONDERRY, EARLS AND MARQUESSES OF LORCH (Prussian town)

LONDONDERRY, CHARLES WILLIAM STEWART (VANE) LORCH (town of kingdom of Württemberg)

LONDONDERRY, ROBERT STEWART LORD, JOHN

LONDONDERRY (county of Ireland) LORD

LONDONDERRY (town of Ireland) LORD ADVOCATE

LONG, GEORGE

LOGARITHM (from Gr. λόγος, word, ratio, and ἀριθμός, number), in mathematics, a word invented by John Napier to denote a particular class of function discovered by him, and which may be defined as follows: if a, x, m are any three quantities satisfying the equation ax = m, then a is called the base, and x is said to be the logarithm of m to the base a. This relation between x, a, m, may be expressed also by the equation x = loga m.

Properties.—The principal properties of logarithms are given by the equations

loga (mn) = loga m + loga n, loga (m/n) = loga m − loga n,

loga mr = r loga m, loga r√ m = (1/r) loga m,

which may be readily deduced from the definition of a logarithm. It follows from these equations that the logarithm of the product of any number of quantities is equal to the sum of the logarithms of the quantities, that the logarithm of the quotient of two quantities is equal to the logarithm of the numerator diminished by the logarithm of the denominator, that the logarithm of the rth power of a quantity is equal to r times the logarithm of the quantity, and that the logarithm of the rth root of a quantity is equal to (1/r)th of the logarithm of the quantity.

Logarithms were originally invented for the sake of abbreviating arithmetical calculations, as by their means the operations of multiplication and division may be replaced by those of addition and subtraction, and the operations of raising to powers and extraction of roots by those of multiplication and division. For the purpose of thus simplifying the operations of arithmetic, the base is taken to be 10, and use is made of tables of logarithms in which the values of x, the logarithm, corresponding to values of m, the number, are tabulated. The logarithm is also a function of frequent occurrence in analysis, being regarded as a known and recognized function like sin x or tan x; but in mathematical investigations the base generally employed is not 10, but a certain quantity usually denoted by the letter e, of value 2.71828 18284....

Thus in arithmetical calculations if the base is not expressed it is understood to be 10, so that log m denotes log10 m; but in analytical formulae it is understood to be e.

The logarithms to base 10 of the first twelve numbers to 7 places of decimals are

log 1 = 0.0000000 log 5 = 0.6989700 log 9 = 0.9542425

log 2 = 0.3010300 log 6 = 0.7781513 log 10 = 1.0000000

log 3 = 0.4771213 log 7 = 0.8450980 log 11 = 1.0413927

log 4 = 0.6020600 log 8 = 0.9030900 log 12 = 1.0791812

The meaning of these results is that

1 = 100, 2 = 100.3010300, 3 = 100.4771213, ...

10 = 101, 11 = 101.0413927, 12 = 101.0791812.

The integral part of a logarithm is called the index or characteristic, and the fractional part the mantissa. When the base is 10, the logarithms of all numbers in which the digits are the same, no matter where the decimal point may be, have the same mantissa; thus, for example,

log 2.5613 = 0.4084604, log 25.613 = 1.4084604, log 2561300 = 6.4084604, &c.

In the case of fractional numbers (i.e. numbers in which the integral part is 0) the mantissa is still kept positive, so that, for example,

log .25613 = 1.4084604, log .0025613 = 3.4084604, &c.

the minus sign being usually written over the characteristic, and not before it, to indicate that the characteristic only, and not the whole expression, is negative; thus

1.4084604 stands for −1 + .4084604.

The fact that when the base is 10 the mantissa of the logarithm is independent of the position of the decimal point in the number affords the chief reason for the choice of 10 as base. The explanation of this property of the base 10 is evident, for a change in the position of the decimal points amounts to multiplication or division by some power of 10, and this corresponds to the addition or subtraction of some integer in the case of the logarithm, the mantissa therefore remaining intact. It should be mentioned that in most tables of trigonometrical functions, the number 10 is added to all the logarithms in the table in order to avoid the use of negative characteristics, so that the characteristic 9 denotes in reality 1, 8 denotes 2, 10 denotes 0, &c. Logarithms thus increased are frequently referred to for the sake of distinction as tabular logarithms, so that the tabular logarithm = the true logarithm + 10.

In tables of logarithms of numbers to base 10 the mantissa only is in general tabulated, as the characteristic of the logarithm of a number can always be written down at sight, the rule being that, if the number is greater than unity, the characteristic is less by unity than the number of digits in the integral portion of it, and that if the number is less than unity the characteristic is negative, and is greater by unity than the number of ciphers between the decimal point and the first significant figure.

It follows very simply from the definition of a logarithm that

loga b × logb a = 1, logb m = loga m × (1/loga b).

The second of these relations is an important one, as it shows that from a table of logarithms to base a, the corresponding table of logarithms to base b may be deduced by multiplying all the logarithms in the former by the constant multiplier 1/loga b, which is called the modulus of the system whose base is b with respect to the system whose base is a.

The two systems of logarithms for which extensive tables have been calculated are the Napierian, or hyperbolic, or natural system, of which the base is e, and the Briggian, or decimal, or common system, of which the base is 10; and we see that the logarithms in the latter system may be deduced from those in the former by multiplication by the constant multiplier 1/loge 10, which is called the modulus of the common system of logarithms. The numerical value of this modulus is 0.43429 44819 03251 82765 11289 ..., and the value of its reciprocal, loge 10 (by multiplication by which Briggian logarithms may be converted into Napierian logarithms) is 2.30258 50929 94045 68401 79914 ....

The quantity denoted by e is the series,

1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + ...

1 1·2 1·2·3 1·2·3·4

the numerical value of which is,

2.71828 18284 59045 23536 02874 ....

The logarithmic Function.—The mathematical function log x or loge x is one of the small group of transcendental functions, consisting only of the circular functions (direct and inverse) sin x, cos x, &c., arc sin x or sin−1 x,&c., log x and ex which are universally treated in analysis as known functions. The notation log x is generally employed in English and American works, but on the continent of Europe writers usually denote the function by lx or lg x. The logarithmic function is most naturally introduced into analysis by the equation

log x = ∫x1 dt , (x > 0).

t

This equation defines log x for positive values of x; if x ≤ 0 the formula ceases to have any meaning. Thus log x is the integral function of 1/x, and it can be shown that log x is a genuinely new transcendent, not expressible in finite terms by means of functions such as algebraical or circular functions. A connexion with the circular functions, however, appears later when the definition of log x is extended to complex values of x.

A relation which is of historical interest connects the logarithmic function with the quadrature of the hyperbola, for, by considering the equation of the hyperbola in the form xy = const., it is evident that the area included between the arc of a hyperbola, its nearest asymptote, and two ordinates drawn parallel to the other asymptote from points on the first asymptote distant a and b from their point of intersection, is proportional to log b/a.

The following fundamental properties of log x are readily deducible from the definition

(i.) log xy = log x + log y.

(ii.) Limit of (xh − 1)/h = log x, when h is indefinitely diminished.

Either of these properties might be taken as itself the definition of log x.

There is no series for log x proceeding either by ascending or descending powers of x, but there is an expansion for log (1 + x), viz.

log (1 + x) = x − 1⁄2 x2 + 1⁄3 x3 − 1⁄4 x4 + ...;

the series, however, is convergent for real values of x only when x lies between +1 and −1. Other formulae which are deducible from this equation are given in the portion of this article relating to the calculation of logarithms.

The function log x as x increases from 0 towards ∞ steadily increases from −∞ towards +∞. It has the important property that it tends to infinity with x, but more slowly than any power of x, i.e. that x−m log x tends to zero as x tends to ∞ for every positive value of m however small.

The exponential function, exp x, may be defined as the inverse of the logarithm: thus x = exp y if y = log x. It is positive for all values of y and increases steadily from 0 toward ∞ as y increases from -∞ towards +∞. As y tends towards ∞, exp y tends towards ∞ more rapidly than any power of y.

The exponential function possesses the properties

(i.) exp (x + y) = exp x × exp y.

(ii.) (d/dx) exp x = exp x.

(iii.) exp x = 1 + x + x2/2! + x3/3! + ...

From (i.) and (ii.) it may be deduced that

exp x = (1 + 1 + 1/2! + 1/3! + ... )x,

where the right-hand side denotes the positive xth power of the number 1 + 1 + 1/2! + 1/3! + ... usually denoted by e. It is customary, therefore, to denote the exponential function by ex and the result

ex = 1 + x + x2/2! + x3/3! ...

is known as the exponential theorem.

The definitions of the logarithmic and exponential functions may be extended to complex values of x. Thus if x = ξ + iη

log x = ∫x1 dt

t

where the path of integration in the plane of the complex variable t is any curve which does not pass through the origin; but now log x is not a uniform function, that is to say, if x describes a closed curve it does not follow that log x also describes a closed curve: in fact we have

log (ξ + iη) = log √(ξ2 + η2) + i(α + 2nπ),

where α is the numerically least angle whose cosine and sine are ξ/√(ξ2 + η2) and η/√(ξ2 + η2), and n denotes any integer. Thus even when the argument is real log x has an infinite number of values; for putting η = 0 and taking ξ positive, in which case α = 0, we obtain for log ξ the infinite system of values log ξ + 2nπi. It follows from this property of the function that we cannot have for log x a series which shall be convergent for all values of x, as is the case with sin x and cos x, for such a series could only represent a uniform function, and in fact the equation

log(1 + x) = x − 1⁄2x2 + 1⁄3x3 − 1⁄4x4 + ...

is true only when the analytical modulus of x is less than unity. The exponential function, which may still be defined as the inverse of the logarithmic function, is, on the other hand, a uniform function of x, and its fundamental properties may be stated in the same form as for real values of x. Also

exp (ξ − iη) = eξ (cos η + i sin η).

An alternative method of developing the theory of the exponential function is to start from the definition

exp x = 1 + x + x2/2! + x3/3! + ...,

the series on the right-hand being convergent for all values of x and therefore defining an analytical function of x which is uniform and regular all over the plane.

Invention and Early History of Logarithms.—The invention of logarithms has been accorded to John Napier, baron of Merchiston in Scotland, with a unanimity which is rare with regard to important scientific discoveries: in fact, with the exception of the tables of Justus Byrgius, which will be referred to further on, there seems to have been no other mathematician of the time whose mind had conceived the principle on which logarithms depend, and no partial anticipations of the discovery are met with in previous writers.

The first announcement of the invention was made in Napier’s Mirifici Logarithmorum Canonis Descriptio ... (Edinburgh, 1614). The work is a small quarto containing fifty-seven pages of explanatory matter and a table of ninety pages (see Napier, John). The nature of logarithms is explained by reference to the motion of points in a straight line, and the principle upon which they are based is that of the correspondence of a geometrical and an arithmetical series of numbers. The table gives the logarithms of sines for every minute of seven figures; it is arranged semi-quadrantally, so that the differentiae, which are the differences of the two logarithms in the same line, are the logarithms of the tangents. Napier’s logarithms are not the logarithms now termed Napierian or hyperbolic, that is to say, logarithms to the base e where e = 2.7182818...; the relation between N (a sine) and L its logarithm, as defined in the Canonis Descriptio, being N = 107 e−L/(l07), so that (ignoring the factors 107, the effect of which is to render sines and logarithms integral to 7 figures), the base is e−1. Napier’s logarithms decrease as the sines increase. If l denotes the logarithm to base e (that is, the so-called “Napierian” or hyperbolic logarithm) and L denotes, as above, “Napier’s” logarithm, the connexion between l and L is expressed by

L = 107 loge 107 − 107 l or el = 107 e−L/(107)

Napier’s work (which will henceforth in this article be referred to as the Descriptio) immediately on its appearance in 1614 attracted the attention of perhaps the two most eminent English mathematicians then living—Edward Wright and Henry Briggs. The former translated the work into English; the latter was concerned with Napier in the change of the logarithms from those originally invented to decimal or common logarithms, and it is to him that the original calculation of the logarithmic tables now in use is mainly due. Both Napier and Wright died soon after the publication of the Descriptio, the date of Wright’s death being 1615 and that of Napier 1617, but Briggs lived until 1631. Edward Wright, who was a fellow of Caius College, Cambridge, occupies a conspicuous place in the history of navigation. In 1599 he published Certaine errors in Navigation detected and corrected, and he was the author of other works; to him also is chiefly due the invention of the method known as Mercator’s sailing. He at once saw the value of logarithms as an aid to navigation, and lost no time in preparing a translation, which he submitted to Napier himself. The preface to Wright’s edition consists of a translation of the preface to the Descriptio, together with the addition of the following sentences written by Napier himself: “But now some of our countreymen in this Island well affected to these studies, and the more publique good, procured a most learned Mathematician to translate the same into our vulgar English tongue, who after he had finished it, sent the Coppy of it to me, to bee seene and considered on by myselfe. I having most willingly and gladly done the same, finde it to bee most exact and precisely conformable to my minde and the originall. Therefore it may please you who are inclined to these studies, to receive it from me and the Translator, with as much good will as we recommend it unto you.” There is a short “preface to the reader” by Briggs, and a description of a triangular diagram invented by Wright for finding the proportional parts. The table is printed to one figure less than in the Descriptio. Edward Wright died, as has been mentioned, in 1615, and his son, Samuel Wright, in the preface states that his father “gave much commendation of this work (and often in my hearing) as of very great use to mariners”; and with respect to the translation he says that “shortly after he had it returned out of Scotland, it pleased God to call him away afore he could publish it.” The translation was published in 1616. It was also reissued with a new title-page in 1618.

Henry Briggs, then professor of geometry at Gresham College, London, and afterwards Savilian professor of geometry at Oxford, welcomed the Descriptio with enthusiasm. In a letter to Archbishop Usher, dated Gresham House, March 10, 1615, he wrote, “Napper, lord of Markinston, hath set my head and hands a work with his new and admirable logarithms. I hope to see him this summer, if it please God, for I never saw book which pleased me better, or made me more wonder. I purpose to discourse with him concerning eclipses, for what is there which we may not hope for at his hands,” and he also states “that he was wholly taken up and employed about the noble invention of logarithms lately discovered.” Briggs accordingly visited Napier in 1615, and stayed with him a whole month. He brought with him some calculations he had made, and suggested to Napier the advantages that would result from the choice of 10 as a base, an improvement which he had explained in his lectures at Gresham College, and on which he had written to Napier. Napier said that he had already thought of the change, and pointed out a further improvement, viz., that the characteristics of numbers greater than unity should be positive and not negative, as suggested by Briggs. In 1616 Briggs again visited Napier and showed him the work he had accomplished, and, he says, he would gladly have paid him a third visit in 1617 had Napier’s life been spared.

Briggs’s Logarithmorum chilias prima, which contains the first published table of decimal or common logarithms, is only a small octavo tract of sixteen pages, and gives the logarithms of numbers from unity to 1000 to 14 places of decimals. It was published, probably privately, in 1617, after Napier’s death, and there is no author’s name, place or date. The date of publication is, however, fixed as 1617 by a letter from Sir Henry Bourchier to Usher, dated December 6, 1617, containing the passage—“Our kind friend, Mr Briggs, hath lately published a supplement to the most excellent tables of logarithms, which I presume he has sent to you.” Briggs’s tract of 1617 is extremely rare, and has generally been ignored or incorrectly described. Hutton erroneously states that it contains the logarithms to 8 places, and his account has been followed by most writers. There is a copy in the British Museum.

Briggs continued to labour assiduously at the calculation of logarithms, and in 1624 published his Arithmetica logarithmica, a folio work containing the logarithms of the numbers from l to 20,000, and from 90,000 to 100,000 (and in some copies to 101,000) to 14 places of decimals. The table occupies 300 pages, and there is an introduction of 88 pages relating to the mode of calculation, and the applications of logarithms.

There was thus left a gap between 20,000 and 90,000, which was filled up by Adrian Vlacq (or Ulaccus), who published at Gouda, in Holland, in 1628, a table containing the logarithms of the numbers from unity to 100,000 to 10 places of decimals. Having calculated 70,000 logarithms and copied only 30,000, Vlacq would have been quite entitled to have called his a new work. He designates it, however, only a second edition of Briggs’s Arithmetica logarithmica, the title running Arithmetica logarithmica sive Logarithmorum Chiliades centum, ... editio secunda aucta per Adrianum Vlacq, Goudanum. This table of Vlacq’s was published, with an English explanation prefixed, at London in 1631 under the title Logarithmicall Arithmetike ... London, printed by George Miller, 1631. There are also copies with the title-page and introduction in French and in Dutch (Gouda, 1628).

Briggs had himself been engaged in filling up the gap, and in a letter to John Pell, written after the publication of Vlacq’s work, and dated October 25, 1628, he says:—

“My desire was to have those chiliades that are wantinge betwixt 20 and 90 calculated and printed, and I had done them all almost by my selfe, and by some frendes whom my rules had sufficiently informed, and by agreement the busines was conveniently parted amongst us; but I am eased of that charge and care by one Adrian Vlacque, an Hollander, who hathe done all the whole hundred chiliades and printed them in Latin, Dutche and Frenche, 1000 bookes in these 3 languages, and hathe sould them almost all. But he hathe cutt off 4 of my figures throughout; and hathe left out my dedication, and to the reader, and two chapters the 12 and 13, in the rest he hath not varied from me at all.”

The original calculation of the logarithms of numbers from unity to 101,000 was thus performed by Briggs and Vlacq between 1615 and 1628. Vlacq’s table is that from which all the hundreds of tables of logarithms that have subsequently appeared have been derived. It contains of course many errors, which were gradually discovered and corrected in the course of the next two hundred and fifty years.

The first calculation or publication of Briggian or common logarithms of trigonometrical functions was made in 1620 by Edmund Gunter, who was Briggs’s colleague as professor of astronomy in Gresham College. The title of Gunter’s book, which is very scarce, is Canon triangulorum, and it contains logarithmic sines and tangents for every minute of the quadrant to 7 places of decimals.

The next publication was due to Vlacq, who appended to his logarithms of numbers in the Arithmetica logarithmica of 1628 a table giving log sines, tangents and secants for every minute of the quadrant to 10 places; these were obtained by calculating the logarithms of the natural sines, &c. given in the Thesaurus mathematicus of Pitiscus (1613).

During the last years of his life Briggs devoted himself to the calculation of logarithmic sines, &c. and at the time of his death in 1631 he had all but completed a logarithmic canon to every hundredth of a degree. This work was published by Vlacq at his own expense at Gouda in 1633, under the title Trigonometria Britannica. It contains log sines (to 14 places) and tangents (to 10 places), besides natural sines, tangents and secants, at intervals of a hundredth of a degree. In the same year Vlacq published at Gouda his Trigonometria artificialis, giving log sines and tangents to every 10 seconds of the quadrant to 10 places. This work also contains the logarithms of numbers from unity to 20,000 taken from the Arithmetica logarithmica of 1628. Briggs appreciated clearly the advantages of a centesimal division of the quadrant, and by dividing the degree into hundredth parts instead of into minutes, made a step towards a reformation in this respect, and but for the appearance of Vlacq’s work the decimal division of the degree might have become recognized, as is now the case with the corresponding division of the second. The calculation of the logarithms not only of numbers but also of the trigonometrical functions is therefore due to Briggs and Vlacq; and the results contained in their four fundamental works—Arithmetica logarithmica (Briggs), 1624; Arithmetica logarithmica (Vlacq), 1628; Trigonometria Britannica (Briggs), 1633; Trigonometria artificialis (Vlacq), 1633—have not been superseded by any subsequent calculations.

In the preceding paragraphs an account has been given of the actual announcement of the invention of logarithms and of the calculation of the tables. It now remains to refer in more detail to the invention itself and to examine the claims of Napier and Briggs to the capital improvement involved in the change from Napier’s original logarithms to logarithms to the base 10.

The Descriptio contained only an explanation of the use of the logarithms without any account of the manner in which the canon was constructed. In an “Admonitio” on the seventh page Napier states that, although in that place the mode of construction should be explained, he proceeds at once to the use of the logarithms, “ut praelibatis prius usu, et rei utilitate, caetera aut magis placeant posthac edenda, aut minus saltem displiceant silentio sepulta.” He awaits therefore the judgment and censure of the learned “priusquam caetera in lucem temerè prolata lividorum detrectationi exponantur”; and in an “Admonitio” on the last page of the book he states that he will publish the mode of construction of the canon “si huius inventi usum eruditis gratum fore intellexero.” Napier, however, did not live to keep this promise. In 1617 he published a small work entitled Rabdologia relating to mechanical methods of performing multiplications and divisions, and in the same year he died.

The proposed work was published in 1619 by Robert Napier, his second son by his second marriage, under the title Mirifici logarithmorum canonis constructio.... It consists of two pages of preface followed by sixty-seven pages of text. In the preface Robert Napier says that he has been assured from undoubted authority that the new invention is much thought of by the ablest mathematicians, and that nothing would delight them more than the publication of the mode of construction of the canon. He therefore issues the work to satisfy their desires, although, he states, it is manifest that it would have seen the light in a far more perfect state if his father could have put the finishing touches to it; and he mentions that, in the opinion of the best judges, his father possessed, among other most excellent gifts, in the highest degree the power of explaining the most difficult matters by a certain and easy method in the fewest possible words.

It is important to notice that in the Constructio logarithms are called artificial numbers; and Robert Napier states that the work was composed several years (aliquot annos) before Napier had invented the name logarithm. The Constructio therefore may have been written a good many years previous to the publication of the Descriptio in 1614.

Passing now to the invention of common or decimal logarithms, that is, to the transition from the logarithms originally invented by Napier to logarithms to the base 10, the first allusion to a change of system occurs in the “Admonitio” on the last page of the Descriptio (1614), the concluding paragraph of which is “Verùm si huius inventi usum eruditis gratum fore intellexero, dabo fortasse brevi (Deo aspirante) rationem ac methodum aut hunc canonem emendandi, aut emendatiorem de novo condendi, ut ita plurium Logistarum diligentia, limatior tandem et accuratior, quàm unius opera fieri potuit, in lucem prodeat. Nihil in ortu perfectum.” In some copies, however, this “Admonitio” is absent. In Wright’s translation of 1616 Napier has added the sentence—“But because the addition and subtraction of these former numbers may seeme somewhat painfull, I intend (if it shall please God) in a second Edition, to set out such Logarithmes as shall make those numbers above written to fall upon decimal numbers, such as 100,000,000, 200,000,000, 300,000,000, &c., which are easie to be added or abated to or from any other number” (p. 19); and in the dedication of the Rabdologia (1617) he wrote “Quorum quidem Logarithmorum speciem aliam multò praestantiorem nunc etiam invenimus, & creandi methodum, unà cum eorum usu (si Deus longiorem vitae & valetudinis usuram concesserit) evulgare statuimus; ipsam autem novi canonis supputationem, ob infirmam corporis nostri valetudinem, viris in hoc studii genere versatis relinquimus: imprimis verò doctissimo viro D. Henrico Briggio Londini publico Geometriae Professori, et amico mihi longè charissimo.”

Briggs in the short preface to his Logarithmorum chilias (1617) states that the reason why his logarithms are different from those introduced by Napier “sperandum, ejus librum posthumum, abunde nobis propediem satisfacturum.” The “liber posthumus” was the Constructio (1619), in the preface to which Robert Napier states that he has added an appendix relating to another and more excellent species of logarithms, referred to by the inventor himself in the Rabdologia, and in which the logarithm of unity is 0. He also mentions that he has published some remarks upon the propositions in spherical trigonometry and upon the new species of logarithms by Henry Briggs, “qui novi hujus Canonis supputandi laborem gravissimum, pro singulari amicitiâ quae illi cum Patre meo L. M. intercessit, animo libentissimo in se suscepit; creandi methodo, et usuum explanatione Inventori relictis. Nunc autem ipso ex hâc vitâ evocato, totius negotii onus doctissimi Briggii humeris incumbere, et Sparta haec ornanda illi sorte quadam obtigisse videtur.”

In the address prefixed to the Arithmetica logarithmica (1625) Briggs bids the reader not to be surprised that these logarithms are different from those published in the Descriptio:—

“Ego enim, cum meis auditoribus Londini, publice in Collegio Greshamensi horum doctrinam explicarem; animadverti multo futurum commodius, si Logarithmus sinus totius servaretur 0 (ut in Canone mirifico), Logarithmus autem partis decimae ejusdem sinus totius, nempe sinus 5 graduum, 44, m. 21, s., esset 10000000000. atque ea de re scripsi statim ad ipsum authorem, et quamprimum per anni tempus, et vacationem a publico docendi munere licuit, profectus sum Edinburgum; ubi humanissime ab eo acceptus haesi per integrum mensem. Cum autem inter nos de horum mutatione sermo haberetur; ille se idem dudum sensisse, et cupivisse dicebat: veruntamen istos, quos jam paraverat edendos curasse, donec alios, si per negotia et valetudinem liceret, magis commodos confecisset. Istam autem mutationem ita faciendam censebat, ut 0 esset Logarithmus unitatis, et 10000000000 sinus totius: quod ego longe commodissimum esse non potui non agnoscere. Coepi igitur, ejus hortatu, rejectis illis quos anteà paraveram, de horum calculo serio cogitare; et sequenti aestate iterum profectus Edinburgum, horum quos hic exhibeo praecipuos, illi ostendi, idem etiam tertia aestate libentissime facturus, si Deus illum nobis tamdiu superstitem esse voluisset.”

There is also a reference to the change of the logarithms on the title-page of the work.

These extracts contain all the original statements made by Napier, Robert Napier and Briggs which have reference to the origin of decimal logarithms. It will be seen that they are all in perfect agreement. Briggs pointed out in his lectures at Gresham College that it would be more convenient that 0 should stand for the logarithm of the whole sine as in the Descriptio, but that the logarithm of the tenth part of the whole sine should be 10,000,000,000. He wrote also to Napier at once; and as soon as he could he went to Edinburgh to visit him, where, as he was most hospitably received by him, he remained for a whole month. When they conversed about the change of system, Napier said that he had perceived and desired the same thing, but that he had published the tables which he had already prepared, so that they might be used until he could construct others more convenient. But he considered that the change ought to be so made that 0 should be the logarithm of unity and 10,000,000,000 that of the whole sine, which Briggs could not but admit was by far the most convenient of all. Rejecting therefore, those which he had prepared already, Briggs began, at Napier’s advice, to consider seriously the question of the calculation of new tables. In the following summer he went to Edinburgh and showed Napier the principal portion of the logarithms which he published in 1624. These probably included the logarithms of the first chiliad which he published in 1617.

It has been thought necessary to give in detail the facts relating to the conversion of the logarithms, as unfortunately Charles Hutton in his history of logarithms, which was prefixed to the early editions of his Mathematical Tables, and was also published as one of his Mathematical Tracts, has charged Napier with want of candour in not telling the world of Briggs’s share in the change of system, and he expresses the suspicion that “Napier was desirous that the world should ascribe to him alone the merit of this very useful improvement of the logarithms.” According to Hutton’s view, the words, “it is to be hoped that his posthumous work” ... which occur in the preface to the Chilias, were a modest hint that the share Briggs had had in changing the logarithms should be mentioned, and that, as no attention was paid to it, he himself gave the account which appears in the Arithmetica of 1624. There seems, however, no ground whatever for supposing that Briggs meant to express anything beyond his hope that the reason for the alteration would be explained in the posthumous work; and in his own account, written seven years after Napier’s death and five years after the appearance of the work itself, he shows no injured feeling whatever, but even goes out of his way to explain that he abandoned his own proposed alteration in favour of Napier’s, and, rejecting the tables he had already constructed, began to consider the calculation of new ones. The facts, as stated by Napier and Briggs, are in complete accordance, and the friendship existing between them was perfect and unbroken to the last. Briggs assisted Robert Napier in the editing of the “posthumous work,” the Constructio, and in the account he gives of the alteration of the logarithms in the Arithmetica of 1624 he seems to have been more anxious that justice should be done to Napier than to himself; while on the other hand Napier received Briggs most hospitably and refers to him as “amico mihi longè charissimo.”

Hutton’s suggestions are all the more to be regretted as they occur as a history which is the result of a good deal of investigation and which for years was referred to as an authority by many writers. His prejudice against Napier naturally produced retaliation, and Mark Napier in defending his ancestor has fallen into the opposite extreme of attempting to reduce Briggs to the level of a mere computer. In connexion with this controversy it should be noticed that the “Admonitio” on the last page of the Descriptio, containing the reference to the new logarithms, does not occur in all the copies. It is printed on the back of the last page of the table itself, and so cannot have been torn out from the copies that are without it. As there could have been no reason for omitting it after it had once appeared, we may assume that the copies which do not have it are those which were first issued. It is probable, therefore, that Briggs’s copy contained no reference to the change, and it is even possible that the “Admonitio” may have been added after Briggs had communicated with Napier. As special attention has not been drawn to the fact that some copies have the “Admonitio” and some have not, different writers have assumed that Briggs did or did not know of the promise contained in the “Admonitio” according as it was present or absent in the copies they had themselves referred to, and this has given rise to some confusion. It may also be remarked that the date frequently assigned to Briggs’s first visit to Napier is 1616, and not 1615 as stated above, the reason being that Napier was generally supposed to have died in 1618 until Mark Napier showed that the true date was 1617. When the Descriptio was published Briggs was fifty-seven years of age, and the remaining seventeen years of his life were devoted with steady enthusiasm to extend the utility of Napier’s great invention.

The only other mathematician besides Napier who grasped the idea on which the use of logarithm depends and applied it to the construction of a table is Justus Byrgius (Jobst Bürgi), whose work Arithmetische und geometrische Progress-Tabulen ... was published at Prague in 1620, six years after the publication of the Descriptio of Napier. This table distinctly involves the principle of logarithms and may be described as a modified table of antilogarithms. It consists of two series of numbers, the one being an arithmetical and the other a geometrical progression: thus

0, 1,0000 0000

10, 1,0001 0000

20, l,0002 0001

990, l,0099 4967

In the arithmetical column the numbers increase by 10, in the geometrical column each number is derived from its predecessor by multiplication by 1.0001. Thus the number 10x in the arithmetical column corresponds to 108 (1.0001)x in the geometrical column; the intermediate numbers being obtained by interpolation. If we divide the numbers in the geometrical column by 108 the correspondence is between 10x and (1.0001)x, and the table then becomes one of antilogarithms, the base being (1.0001)1/10, viz. for example (l.0001)1/10·990 = 1.00994967. The table extends to 230270 in the arithmetical column, and it is shown that 230270.022 corresponds to 9.9999 9999 or 109 in the geometrical column; this last result showing that (1.0001)23027.022 = 10. The first contemporary mention of Byrgius’s table occurs on page 11 of the “Praecepta” prefixed to Kepler’s Tabulae Radolphinae (1627); his words are: “apices logistici J. Byrgio multis annis ante editionem Neperianam viam praeiverent ad hos ipsissimos logarithmos. Etsi homo cunctator et secretorum suorum custos foetum in partu destituit, non ad usus publicos educavit.” Another reference to Byrgius occurs in a work by Benjamin Bramer, the brother-in-law and pupil of Byrgius, who, writing in 1630, says that the latter constructed his table twenty years ago or more.

As regards priority of publication, Napier has the advantage by six years, and even fully accepting Bramer’s statement, there are grounds for believing that Napier’s work dates from a still earlier period.

The power of 10, which occurs as a factor in the tables of both Napier and Byrgius, was rendered necessary by the fact that the decimal point was not yet in use. Omitting this factor in the case of both tables, the connexion between N a number and L its “logarithm” is

N = (e−1)L (Napier), L =(1.0001)1⁄10N (Byrgius),

viz. Napier gives logarithms to base e-1, Byrgius gives antilogarithms to base (1.0001)1/10.

There is indirect evidence that Napier was occupied with logarithms as early as 1594, for in a letter to P. Crügerus from Kepler, dated September 9, 1624 (Frisch’s Kepler, vi. 47), there occurs the sentence: “Nihil autem supra Neperianam rationem esse puto: etsi quidem Scotus quidam literis ad Tychonem 1594 scriptis jam spem fecit Canonis illius Mirifici.” It is here distinctly stated that some Scotsman in the year 1594, in a letter to Tycho Brahe, gave him some hope of the logarithms; and as Kepler joined Tycho after his expulsion from the island of Huen, and had been so closely associated with him in his work, he would be likely to be correct in any assertion of this kind. In connexion with Kepler’s statement the following story, told by Anthony wood in the Athenae Oxonienses, is of some importance:—

“It must be now known, that one Dr Craig, a Scotchman ... coming out of Denmark into his own country, called upon Joh. Neper, Baron of Mercheston, near Edinburgh, and told him, among other discourses, of a new invention in Denmark (by Longomontanus, as ’tis said), to save the tedious multiplication and division in astronomical calculations. Neper being solicitous to know farther of him concerning this matter, he could give no other account of it than that it was by proportional numbers. Which hint Neper taking, he desired him at his return to call upon him again. Craig, after some weeks had passed, did so, and Neper then showed him a rude draught of what he called Canon mirabilis logarithmorum. which draught, with some alterations, he printing in 1614, it came forthwith into the hands of our author Briggs, and into those of Will. Oughtred, from whom the relation of this matter came.”

This story, though obviously untrue in some respects, gives valuable information by connecting Dr Craig with Napier and Longomontanus, who was Tycho Brahe’s assistant. Dr Craig was John Craig, the third son of Thomas Craig, who was one of the colleagues of Sir Archibald Napier, John Napier’s father, in the office of justice-depute. Between John Craig and John Napier a friendship sprang up which may have been due to their common taste for mathematics. There are extant three letters from Dr John Craig to Tycho Brahe, which show that he was on the most friendly terms with him. In the first letter, of which the date is not given, Craig says that Sir William Stuart has safely delivered to him, “about the beginning of last winter,” the book which he sent him. Now Mark Napier found in the library of the university of Edinburgh a mathematical work bearing a sentence in Latin which he translates, “To Doctor John Craig of Edinburgh, in Scotland, a most illustrious man, highly gifted with various and excellent learning, professor of medicine, and exceedingly skilled in the mathematics, Tycho Brahe hath sent this gift, and with his own hand written this at Uraniburg, 2d November 1588.” As Sir William Stuart was sent to Denmark to arrange the preliminaries of King James’s marriage, and returned to Edinburgh on the 15th of November 1588, it would seem probable that this was the volume referred to by Craig. It appears from Craig’s letter, to which we may therefore assign the date 1589, that, five years before, he had made an attempt to reach Uranienburg, but had been baffled by the storms and rocks of Norway, and that ever since then he had been longing to visit Tycho. Now John Craig was physician to the king, and in 1590 James VI. spent some days at Uranienburg, before returning to Scotland from his matrimonial expedition. It seems not unlikely therefore that Craig may have accompanied the king in his visit to Uranienburg. In any case it is certain that Craig was a friend and correspondent of Tycho’s, and it is probable that he was the “Scotus quidam.”

We may infer therefore that as early as 1594 Napier had communicated to some one, probably John Craig, his hope of being able to effect a simplification in the processes of arithmetic. Everything tends to show that the invention of logarithms was the result of many years of labour and thought, undertaken with this special object, and it would seem that Napier had seen some prospect of success nearly twenty years before the publication of the Descriptio. It is very evident that no mere hint with regard to the use of proportional numbers could have been of any service to him, but it is possible that the news brought by Craig of the difficulties placed in the progress of astronomy by the labour of the calculations may have stimulated him to persevere in his efforts.

The “new invention in Denmark” to which Anthony Wood refers as having given the hint to Napier was probably the method of calculation called prosthaphaeresis (often written in Greek letters προσθαφαίρεσις), which had its origin in the solution of spherical triangles. The method consists in the use of the formula

sin a sin b = 1⁄2 {cos (a − b) − cos (a + b)},

by means of which the multiplication of two sines is reduced to the addition or subtraction of two tabular results taken from a table of sines; and, as such products occur in the solution of spherical triangles, the method affords the solution of spherical triangles in certain cases by addition and subtraction only. It seems to be due to Wittich of Breslau, who was assistant for a short time to Tycho Brahe; and it was used by them in their calculations in 1582. Wittich in 1584 made known at Cassel the calculation of one case by this prosthaphaeresis; and Justus Byrgius proved it in such a manner that from his proof the extension to the solution of all triangles could be deduced. Clavius generalized the method in his treatise De astrolabio (1593), lib. i. lemma liii. The lemma is enunciated as follows:—

“Quaestiones omnes, quae per sinus, tangentes, atque secantes absolvi solent, per solam prosthaphaeresim, id est, per solam additionem, subtractionem, sine laboriosa numerorum multiplicatione divisioneque expedire.”

Clavius then refers to a work of Raymarus Ursus Dithmarsus as containing an account of a particular case. The work is probably the Fundamentum astronomicum (1588). Longomontanus, in his Astronomia Danica (1622), gives an account of the method, stating that it is not to be found in the writings of the Arabs or Regiomontanus. As Longomontanus is mentioned in Anthony Wood’s anecdote, and as Wittich as well as Longomontanus were assistants of Tycho, we may infer that Wittich’s prosthaphaeresis is the method referred to by Wood.

It is evident that Wittich’s prosthaphaeresis could not be a good method of practically effecting multiplications unless the quantities to be multiplied were sines, on account of the labour of the interpolations. It satisfies the condition, however, equally with logarithms, of enabling multiplication to be performed by the aid of a table of single entry; and, analytically considered, it is not so different in principle from the logarithmic method. In fact, if we put xy = φ(X + Y), X being a function of x only and Y a function of y only, we can show that we must have X = Aeqx, y = Beqy; and if we put xy = φ(X + Y) − φ(X − Y), the solutions are φ(X + Y) = 1⁄4(x + y)2, and x = sin X, y = sin Y, φ(X + Y) = −1⁄2 cos(X + Y). The former solution gives a method known as that of quarter-squares; the latter gives the method of prosthaphaeresis.

An account has now been given of Napier’s invention and its publication, the transition to decimal logarithms, the calculation of the tables by Briggs, Vlacq and Gunter, as well as of the claims of Byrgius and the method of prosthaphaeresis. To complete the early history of logarithms it is necessary to return to Napier’s Descriptio in order to describe its reception on the continent, and to mention the other logarithmic tables which were published while Briggs was occupied with his calculations.

John Kepler, who has been already quoted in connexion with Craig’s visit to Tycho Brahe, received the invention of logarithms almost as enthusiastically as Briggs. His first mention of the subject occurs in a letter to Schikhart dated the 11th of March 1618, in which he writes-“Extitit Scotus Baro, cujus nomen mihi excidit, qui praeclari quid praestitit, necessitate omni multiplicationum et divisionum in meras additiones et subtractiones commutata, nec sinibus utitur; at tamen opus est ipsi tangentium canone: et varietas, crebritas, difficultasque additionum subtractionumque alicubi laborem multiplicandi et dividendi superat.” This erroneous estimate was formed when he had seen the Descriptio but had not read it; and his opinion was very different when he became acquainted with the nature of logarithms. The dedication of his Ephemeris for 1620 consists of a letter to Napier dated the 28th of July 1619, and he there congratulates him warmly on his invention and on the benefit he has conferred upon astronomy generally and upon Kepler’s own Rudolphine tables. He says that, although Napier’s book had been published five years, he first saw it at Prague two years before; he was then unable to read it, but last year he had met with a little work by Benjamin Ursinus containing the substance of the method, and he at once recognized the importance of what had been effected. He then explains how he verified the canon, and so found that there were no essential errors in it, although there were a few inaccuracies near the beginning of the quadrant, and he proceeds, “Haec te obiter scire volui, ut quibus tu methodis incesseris, quas non dubito et plurimas et ingeniosissimas tibi in promptu esse, eas publici juris fieri, mihi saltem (puto et caeteris) scires fore gratissimum; eoque percepto, tua promissa folio 57, in debitum cecidisse intelligeres.” This letter was written two years after Napier’s death (of which Kepler was unaware), and in the same year as that in which the Constructio was published. In the same year (1620) Napier’s Descriptio (1614) and Constructio (1619) were reprinted by Bartholomew Vincent at Lyons and issued together.

Napier calculated no logarithms of numbers, and, as already stated, the logarithms invented by him were not to base e. The first logarithms to the base e were published by John Speidell in his New Logarithmes (London, 1619), which contains hyperbolic log sines, tangents and secants for every minute of the quadrant to 5 places of decimals.

In 1624 Benjamin Ursinus published at Cologne a canon of logarithms exactly similar to Napier’s in the Descriptio of 1614, only much enlarged. The interval of the arguments is 10″, and the results are given to 8 places; in Napier’s canon the interval is 1′, and the number of places is 7. The logarithms are strictly Napierian, and the arrangement is identical with that in the canon of 1614. This is the largest Napierian canon that has ever been published.

In the same year (1624) Kepler published at Marburg a table of Napierian logarithms of sines with certain additional columns to facilitate special calculations.

The first publication of Briggian logarithms on the continent is due to Wingate, who published at Paris in 1625 his Arithmétique logarithmétique, containing seven-figure logarithms of numbers up to 1000, and log sines and tangents from Gunter’s Canon (1620). In the following year, 1626, Denis Henrion published at Paris a Traicté des Logarithmes, containing Briggs’s logarithms of numbers up to 20,001 to 10 places, and Gunter’s log sines and tangents to 7 places for every minute. In the same year de Decker also published at Gouda a work entitled Nieuwe Telkonst, inhoudende de Logarithmi voor de Ghetallen beginnende van 1 tot 10,000, which contained logarithms of numbers up to 10,000 to 10 places, taken from Briggs’s Arithmetica of 1624, and Gunter’s log sines and tangents to 7 places for every minute. Vlacq rendered assistance in the publication of this work, and the privilege is made out to him.

The invention of logarithms and the calculation of the earlier tables form a very striking episode in the history of exact science, and, with the exception of the Principia of Newton, there is no mathematical work published in the country which has produced such important consequences, or to which so much interest attaches as to Napier’s Descriptio. The calculation of tables of the natural trigonometrical functions may be said to have formed the work of the last half of the 16th century, and the great canon of natural sines for every 10 seconds to 15 places which had been calculated by Rheticus was published by Pitiscus only in 1613, the year before that in which the Descriptio appeared. In the construction of the natural trigonometrical tables Great Britain had taken no part, and it is remarkable that the discovery of the principles and the formation of the tables that were to revolutionize or supersede all the methods of calculation then in use should have been so rapidly effected and developed in a country in which so little attention had been previously devoted to such questions.

For more detailed information relating to Napier, Briggs and Vlacq, and the invention of logarithms, the reader is referred to the life of Briggs in Ward’s Lives of the Professors of Gresham College (London, 1740); Thomas Smith’s Vitae quorundam eruditissimorum et illustrium virorum (Vita Henrici Briggii) (London, 1707); Mark Napier’s Memoirs of John Napier already referred to, and the same author’s Naperi libri qui supersunt (1839); Hutton’s History; de Morgan’s article already referred to; Delambre’s Histoire de l’Astronomie moderne; the report on mathematical tables in the Report of the British Association for 1873; and the Philosophical Magazine for October and December 1872 and May 1873. It may be remarked that the date usually assigned to Briggs’s first visit to Napier is 1616 and not 1615 as stated above, the reason being that Napier was generally supposed to have died in 1618; but it was shown by Mark Napier that the true date is 1617.

In the years 1791-1807 Francis Maseres published at London, in six volumes quarto “Scriptores Logarithmici, or a collection of several curious tracts on the nature and construction of logarithms, mentioned in Dr Hutton’s historical introduction to his new edition of Sherwin’s mathematical tables ...,” which contains reprints of Napier’s Descriptio of 1614, Kepler’s writings on logarithms (1624-1625), &c. In 1889 a translation of Napier’s Constructio of 1619 was published by Walter Rae Macdonald. Some valuable notes are added by the translator, in one of which he shows the accuracy of the method employed by Napier in his calculations, and explains the origin of a small error which occurs in Napier’s table. Appended to the Catalogue is a full and careful bibliography of all Napier’s writings, with mention of the public libraries, British and foreign, which possess copies of each. A facsimile reproduction of Bartholomew Vincent’s Lyons edition (1620) of the Constructio was issued in 1895 by A. Hermann at Paris (this imprint occurs on page 62 after the word “Finis”).

It now remains to notice briefly a few of the more important events in the history of logarithmic tables subsequent to the original calculations.

Common or Briggian Logarithms of Numbers.—Nathaniel Roe’s Tabulae logarithmicae (1633) was the first complete seven-figure table that was published. It contains seven-figure logarithms of numbers from 1 to 100,000, with characteristics unseparated from the mantissae, and was formed from Vlacq’s table (1628) by leaving out the last three figures. All the figures of the number are given at the head of the columns, except the last two, which run down the extreme columns—1 to 50 on the left-hand side, and 50 to 100 on the right-hand side. The first four figures of the logarithms are printed at the top of the columns. There is thus an advance half way towards the arrangement now universal in seven-figure tables. The final step was made by John Newton in his Trigonometria Britannica (1658), a work which is also noticeable as being the only extensive eight-figure table that until recently had been published; it contains logarithms of sines, &c., as well as logarithms of numbers.

In 1705 appeared the original edition of Sherwin’s tables, the first of the series of ordinary seven-figure tables of logarithms of numbers and trigonometrical functions such as are in general use now. The work went through several editions during the 18th century, and was at length superseded in 1785 by Hutton’s tables, which continued in successive editions to maintain their position for a century.

In 1717 Abraham Sharp published in his Geometry Improv’d the Briggian logarithms of numbers from 1 to 100, and of primes from 100 to 1100, to 61 places; these were copied into the later editions of Sherwin and other works.

In 1742 a seven-figure table was published in quarto form by Gardiner, which is celebrated on account of its accuracy and of the elegance of the printing. A French edition, which closely resembles the original, was published at Avignon in 1770.

In 1783 appeared at Paris the first edition of François Callet’s tables, which correspond to those of Hutton in England. These tables, which form perhaps the most complete and practically useful collection of logarithms for the general computer that has been published, passed through many editions.

In 1794 Vega published his Thesaurus logarithmorum completus, a folio volume containing a reprint of the logarithms of numbers from Vlacq’s Arithmetica logarithmica of 1628, and Trigonometria artificialis of 1633. The logarithms of numbers are arranged as in an ordinary seven-figure table. In addition to the logarithms reprinted from the Trigonometria, there are given logarithms for every second of the first two degrees, which were the result of an original calculation. Vega devoted great attention to the detection and correction of the errors in Vlacq’s work of 1628. Vega’s Thesaurus has been reproduced photographically by the Italian government. Vega also published in 1797, in 2 vols. 8vo, a collection of logarithmic and trigonometrical tables which has passed through many editions, a very useful one volume stereotype edition having been published in 1840 by Hülsse. The tables in this work may be regarded as to some extent supplementary to those in Callet.

If we consider only the logarithms of numbers, the main line of descent from the original calculation of Briggs and Vlacq is Roe, John Newton, Sherwin, Gardiner; there are then two branches, viz. Hutton founded on Sherwin and Callet on Gardiner, and the editions of Vega form a separate offshoot from the original tables. Among the most useful and accessible of modern ordinary seven-figure tables of logarithms of numbers and trigonometrical functions may be mentioned those of Bremiker, Schrön and Bruhns. For logarithms of numbers only perhaps Babbage’s table is the most convenient.

In 1871 Edward Sang published a seven-figure table of logarithms of numbers from 20,000 to 200,000, the logarithms between 100,000 and 200,000 being the result of a new calculation. By beginning the table at 20,000 instead of at 10,000 the differences are halved in magnitude, while the number of them in a page is quartered. In this table multiples of the differences, instead of proportional parts, are given. John Thomson of Greenock (1782-1855) made an independent calculation of logarithms of numbers up to 120,000 to 12 places of decimals, and his table has been used to verify the errata already found in Vlacq and Briggs by Lefort (see Monthly Not. R.A.S. vol. 34, p. 447). A table of ten-figure logarithms of numbers up to 100,009 was calculated by W. W. Duffield and published in the Report of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey for 1895-1896 as Appendix 12, pp. 395-722. The results were compared with Vega’s Thesaurus (1794) before publication.

Common or Briggian Logarithms of Trigonometrical Functions.—The next great advance on the Trigonometria artificialis took place more than a century and a half afterwards, when Michael Taylor published in 1792 his seven-decimal table of log sines and tangents to every second of the quadrant; it was calculated by interpolation from the Trigonometria to 10 places and then contracted to 7. On account of the great size of this table, and for other reasons, it never came into very general use, Bagay’s Nouvelles tables astronomiques (1829), which also contains log sines and tangents to every second, being preferred; this latter work, which for many years was difficult to procure, has been reprinted with the original title-page and date unchanged. The only other logarithmic canon to every second that has been published forms the second volume of Shortrede’s Logarithmic Tables (1849). In 1784 the French government decided that new tables of sines, tangents, &c., and their logarithms, should be calculated in relation to the centesimal division of the quadrant. Prony was charged with the direction of the work, and was expressly required “non seulement à composer des tables qui ne laissassent rien à désirer quant à l’exactitude, mais à en faire le monument de calcul le plus vaste et le plus imposant qui eût jamais été exécuté ou même conçu.” Those engaged upon the work were divided into three sections: the first consisted of five or six mathematicians, including Legendre, who were engaged in the purely analytical work, or the calculation of the fundamental numbers; the second section consisted of seven or eight calculators possessing some mathematical knowledge; and the third comprised seventy or eighty ordinary computers. The work, which was performed wholly in duplicate, and independently by two divisions of computers, occupied two years. As a consequence of the double calculation, there are two manuscripts, one deposited at the Observatory, and the other in the library of the Institute, at Paris. Each of the two manuscripts consists essentially of seventeen large folio volumes, the contents being as follows:—

Logarithms of numbers up to 200,000 8 vols.

Natural sines 1 ”

Logarithms of the ratios of arcs to sines from 0q.00000

to 0q.05000, and log sines throughout the quadrant 4 ”

Logarithms of the ratios of arcs to tangents from

0q.00000 to 0q.05000, and log tangents throughout

the quadrant 4 ”

The trigonometrical results are given for every hundred-thousandth of the quadrant (10″ centesimal or 3″.24 sexagesimal). The tables were all calculated to 14 places, with the intention that only 12 should be published, but the twelfth figure is not to be relied upon. The tables have never been published, and are generally known as the Tables du Cadastre, or, in England, as the great French manuscript tables.

A very full account of these tables, with an explanation of the methods of calculation, formulae employed, &c., was published by Lefort in vol. iv. of the Annales de l’observatoire de Paris. The printing of the table of natural sines was once begun, and Lefort states that he has seen six copies, all incomplete, although including the last page. Babbage compared his table with the Tables du Cadastre, and Lefort has given in his paper just referred to most important lists of errors in Vlacq’s and Briggs’s logarithms of numbers which were obtained by comparing the manuscript tables with those contained in the Arithmetica logarithmica of 1624 and of 1628.

As the Tables du Cadastre remained unpublished, other tables appeared in which the quadrant was divided centesimally, the most important of these being Hobert and Ideler’s Nouvelles tables trigonométriques (1799), and Borda and Delambre’s Tables trigonométriques décimales (1800-1801), both of which are seven-figure tables. The latter work, which was much used, being difficult to procure, and greater accuracy being required, the French government in 1891 published an eight-figure centesimal table, for every ten seconds, derived from the Tables du Cadastre.

Decimal or Briggian Antilogarithms.—In the ordinary tables of logarithms the natural numbers are all integers, while the logarithms tabulated are incommensurable. In an antilogarithmic table, the logarithms are exact quantities such as .00001, .00002, &c., and the numbers are incommensurable. The earliest and largest table of this kind that has been constructed is Dodson’s Antilogarithmic canon (1742), which gives the numbers to 11 places, corresponding to the logarithms from .00001 to .99999 at intervals of .00001. Antilogarithmic tables are few in number, the only other extensive tables of the same kind that have been published occurring in Shortrede’s Logarithmic tables already referred to, and in Filipowski’s Table of antilogarithms (1849). Both are similar to Dodson’s tables, from which they were derived, but they only give numbers to 7 places.

Hyperbolic or Napierian logarithms (i.e. to base e).—The most elaborate table of hyperbolic logarithms that exists is due to Wolfram, a Dutch lieutenant of artillery. His table gives the logarithms of all numbers up to 2200, and of primes (and also of a great many composite numbers) from 2200 to 10,009, to 48 decimal places. The table appeared in Schulze’s Neue und erweiterte Sammlung logarithmischer Tafeln (1778), and was reprinted in Vega’s Thesaurus (1794), already referred to. Six logarithms omitted in Schulze’s work, and which Wolfram had been prevented from computing by a serious illness, were published subsequently, and the table as given by Vega is complete. The largest hyperbolic table as regards range was published by Zacharias Dase at Vienna in 1850 under the title Tafel der natürlichen Logarithmen der Zahlen.

Hyperbolic antilogarithms are simple exponentials, i.e. the hyperbolic antilogarithm of x is ex. Such tables can scarcely be said to come under the head of logarithmic tables. See Tables, Mathematical: Exponential Functions.

Logistic or Proportional Logarithms.—The old name for what are now called ratios or fractions are logistic numbers, so that a table of log (a/x) where x is the argument and a a constant is called a table of logistic or proportional logarithms; and since log (a/x) = log a − log x it is clear that the tabular results differ from those given in an ordinary table of logarithms only by the subtraction of a constant and a change of sign. The first table of this kind appeared in Kepler’s work of 1624 which has been already referred to. The object of a table of log (a/x) is to facilitate the working out of proportions in which the third term is a constant quantity a. In most collections of tables of logarithms, and especially those intended for use in connexion with navigation, there occurs a small table of logistic logarithms in which a = 3600″ (= 1° or 1h), the table giving log 3600 − log x, and x being expressed in minutes and seconds. It is also common to find tables in which a = 10800″ (= 3° or 3h), and x is expressed in degrees (or hours), minutes and seconds. Such tables are generally given to 4 or 5 places. The usual practice in books seems to be to call logarithms logistic when a is 3600″, and proportional when a has any other value.

Addition and Subtraction, or Gaussian Logarithms.—Gaussian logarithms are intended to facilitate the finding of the logarithms of the sum and difference of two numbers whose logarithms are known, the numbers themselves being unknown; and on this account they are frequently called addition and subtraction logarithms. The object of the table is in fact to give log (a ± b) by only one entry when log a and log b are given. The utility of such logarithms was first pointed out by Leonelli in a book entitled Supplément logarithmique, printed at Bordeaux in the year XI. (1802/3); he calculated a table to 14 places, but only a specimen of it which appeared in the Supplément was printed. The first table that was actually published is due to Gauss, and was printed in Zach’s Monatliche Correspondenz, xxvi. 498 (1812). Corresponding to the argument log x it gives the values of log (1 + x−1) and log (1 + x).

Dual Logarithms.—This term was used by Oliver Byrne in a series of works published between 1860 and 1870. Dual numbers and logarithms depend upon the expression of a number as a product of 1.1, 1.01, 1.001 ... or of .9, .99, .999....

In the preceding résumé only those publications have been mentioned which are of historic importance or interest. For fuller details with respect to some of these works, for an account of tables published in the latter part of the 19th century, and for those which would now be used in actual calculation, reference should be made to the article Tables, Mathematical.

Calculation of Logarithms.—The name logarithm is derived from the words λόγων ἀριθμός, the number of the ratios, and the way of regarding a logarithm which justifies the name may be explained as follows. Suppose that the ratio of 10, or any other particular number, to 1 is compounded of a very great number of equal ratios, as, for example, 1,000,000, then it can be shown that the ratio of 2 to 1 is very nearly equal to a ratio compounded of 301,030 of these small ratios, or ratiunculae, that the ratio of 3 to 1 is very nearly equal to a ratio compounded of 477,121 of them, and so on. The small ratio, or ratiuncula, is in fact that of the millionth root of 10 to unity, and if we denote it by the ratio of a to 1, then the ratio of 2 to 1 will be nearly the same as that of a301,030 to 1, and so on; or, in other words, if a denotes the millionth root of 10, then 2 will be nearly equal to a301,030, 3 will be nearly equal to a477,121, and so on.

Napier’s original work, the Descriptio Canonis of 1614, contained, not logarithms of numbers, but logarithms of sines, and the relations between the sines and the logarithms were explained by the motions of points in lines, in a manner not unlike that afterwards employed by Newton in the method of fluxions. An account of the processes by which Napier constructed his table was given in the Constructio Canonis of 1619. These methods apply, however, specially to Napier’s own kind of logarithms, and are different from those actually used by Briggs in the construction of the tables in the Arithmetica Logarithmica, although some of the latter are the same in principle as the processes described in an appendix to the Constructio.

The processes used by Briggs are explained by him in the preface to the Arithmetica Logarithmica (1624). His method of finding the logarithms of the small primes, which consists in taking a great number of continued geometric means between unity and the given primes, may be described as follows. He first formed the table of numbers and their logarithms:—

Numbers. Logarithms,

10 1

3.162277... 0.5

1.778279... 0.25

1.333521... 0.125

1.154781... 0.0625

each quantity in the left-hand column being the square root of the one above it, and each quantity in the right-hand column being the half of the one above it. To construct this table Briggs, using about thirty places of decimals, extracted the square root of 10 fifty-four times, and thus found that the logarithm of 1.00000 00000 00000 12781 91493 20032 35 was 0.00000 00000 00000 05551 11512 31257 82702, and that for numbers of this form (i.e. for numbers beginning with 1 followed by fifteen ciphers, and then by seventeen or a less number of significant figures) the logarithms were proportional to these significant figures. He then by means of a simple proportion deduced that log (1.00000 00000 00000 1) = 0.00000 00000 00000 04342 94481 90325 1804, so that, a quantity 1.00000 00000 00000 x (where x consists of not more than seventeen figures) having been obtained by repeated extraction of the square root of a given number, the logarithm of 1.00000 00000 00000 x could then be found by multiplying x by .00000 00000 00000 04342....

To find the logarithm of 2, Briggs raised it to the tenth power, viz. 1024, and extracted the square root of 1.024 forty-seven times, the result being 1.00000 00000 00000 16851 60570 53949 77. Multiplying the significant figures by 4342 ... he obtained the logarithm of this quantity, viz. 0.00000 00000 00000 07318 55936 90623 9336, which multiplied by 247 gave 0.01029 99566 39811 95265 277444, the logarithm of 1.024, true to 17 or 18 places. Adding the characteristic 3, and dividing by 10, he found (since 2 is the tenth root of 1024) log 2 = .30102 99956 63981 195. Briggs calculated in a similar manner log 6, and thence deduced log 3.

It will be observed that in the first process the value of the modulus is in fact calculated from the formula.

h = 1 ,

10h − 1 loge 10

the value of h being 1/254, and in the second process log10 2 is in effect calculated from the formula.

log10 2 = ( 210/2247 − 1 ) × 1 × 247 .

loge 10 10

Briggs also gave methods of forming the mean proportionals or square roots by differences; and the general method of constructing logarithmic tables by means of differences is due to him.

The following calculation of log 5 is given as an example of the application of a method of mean proportionals. The process consists in taking the geometric mean of numbers above and below 5, the object being to at length arrive at 5.000000. To every geometric mean in the column of numbers there corresponds the arithmetical mean in the column of logarithms. The numbers are denoted by A, B, C, &c., in order to indicate their mode of formation.

Numbers. Logarithms.

A = 1.000000 0.0000000

B = 10.000000 1.0000000

C = √(AB) = 3.162277 0.5000000

D = √(BC) = 5.623413 0.7500000

E = √(CD) = 4.216964 0.6250000

F = √(DE) = 4.869674 0.6875000

G = √(DF) = 5.232991 0.7187500

H = √(FG) = 5.048065 0.7031250

I = √(FH) = 4.958069 0.6953125

K = √(HI) = 5.002865 0.6992187

L = √(IK) = 4.980416 0.6972656

M = √(KL) = 4.991627 0.6982421

N = √(KM) = 4.997242 0.6987304

O = √(KN) = 5.000052 0.6989745

P = √(NO) = 4.998647 0.6988525

Q = √(OP) = 4.999350 0.6989135

R = √(OQ) = 4.999701 0.6989440

S = √(OR) = 4.999876 0.6989592

T = √(OS) = 4.999963 0.6989668

V = √(OT) = 5.000008 0.6989707

W = √(TV) = 4.999984 0.6989687

X = √(WV) = 4.999997 0.6989697

Y = √(VX) = 5.000003 0.6989702

Z = √(XY) = 5.000000 0.6989700

Great attention was devoted to the methods of calculating logarithms during the 17th and 18th centuries. The earlier methods proposed were, like those of Briggs, purely arithmetical, and for a long time logarithms were regarded from the point of view indicated by their name, that is to say, as depending on the theory of compounded ratios. The introduction of infinite series into mathematics effected a great change in the modes of calculation and the treatment of the subject. Besides Napier and Briggs, special reference should be made to Kepler (Chilias, 1624) and Mercator (Logarithmotechnia, 1668), whose methods were arithmetical, and to Newton, Gregory, Halley and Cotes, who employed series. A full and valuable account of these methods is given in Hutton’s “Construction of Logarithms,” which occurs in the introduction to the early editions of his Mathematical Tables, and also forms tract 21 of his Mathematical Tracts (vol. i., 1812). Many of the early works on logarithms were reprinted in the Scriptores logarithmici of Baron Maseres already referred to.

In the following account only those formulae and methods will be referred to which would now be used in the calculation of logarithms.

Since

loge (1 + x) = x − 1⁄2x2 + 1⁄3x3 − 1⁄4x4 + &c.,

we have, by changing the sign of x,

loge (1 − x) = −x − 1⁄2x2 − 1⁄3x3 − 1⁄4x4 − &c.;

whence

loge 1 + x = 2 (x + 1⁄3x3 + 1⁄5x5 + &c.),

1 − x

and, therefore, replacing x by (p − q)/(p + q),

loge p = 2 { p − q + 1⁄3 ( p − q ) 3 + 1⁄5 ( p − q ) 5 + &c. },

q p + q p + q p + q

in which the series is always convergent, so that the formula affords a method of deducing the logarithm of one number from that of another.

As particular cases we have, by putting q = 1,

loge p = 2 { p − 1 + 1⁄3 ( p − 1 ) 3 + 1⁄5 ( p − 1 ) 5 + &c. },

p + 1 p + 1 p + 1

and by putting q = p + 1,

loge(p + 1) − loge p = 2 { 1 + 1⁄3 1 + 1⁄5 1 + &c. };

2p + 1 (2p + 1)3 (2p + 1)5

the former of these equations gives a convergent series for logep, and the latter a very convergent series by means of which the logarithm of any number may be deduced from the logarithm of the preceding number.

From the formula for loge (p/q) we may deduce the following very convergent series for loge2, loge3 and loge5, viz.:—

loge 2 = 2 (7P + 5Q + 3R),

loge 3 = 2 (11P + 8Q + 5R),

loge 5 = 2 (16P + 12Q + 7R),

where

P = 1 + 1⁄3 · 1 + 1⁄5 · 1 + &c.

31 (31)3 (31)5

Q = 1 + 1⁄3 · 1 + 1⁄5 · 1 + &c.

49 (49)3 (49)5

R = 1 + 1⁄3 · 1 + 1⁄5 · 1 + &c.

161 (161)3 (161)5

The following still more convenient formulae for the calculation of loge 2, loge 3, &c. were given by J. Couch Adams in the Proc. Roy. Soc., 1878, 27, p. 91. If

a = log 10 = −log ( 1 − 1 ), b = log 25 = −log ( 1 − 4 ),

9 10 24 100

c = log 81 = log ( 1 + 1 ), d = log 50 = −log ( 1 − 2 ),

80 80 49 100

e = log 126 = log ( 1 + 8 ),

125 1000

then

log 2 = 7a − 2b + 3c, log 3 = 11a − 3b + 5c, log 5 = 16a − 4b + 7c,

and

log 7 = 1⁄2 (39a − 10b + 17c − d) or = 19a − 4b + 8c + e,

and we have the equation of condition,

a − 2b + c = d + 2e.

By means of these formulae Adams calculated the values of loge 2, loge 3, loge 5, and loge 7 to 276 places of decimals, and deduced the value of loge 10 and its reciprocal M, the modulus of the Briggian system of logarithms. The value of the modulus found by Adams is

Mo = 0.43429 44819 03251 82765 11289

18916 60508 22943 97005 80366

65661 14453 78316 58646 49208

87077 47292 24949 33843 17483

18706 10674 47663 03733 64167

92871 58963 90656 92210 64662

81226 58521 27086 56867 03295

93370 86965 88266 88331 16360

77384 90514 28443 48666 76864

65860 85135 56148 21234 87653

43543 43573 17253 83562 21868

25

which is true certainly to 272, and probably to 273, places (Proc. Roy. Soc., 1886, 42, p. 22, where also the values of the other logarithms are given).

If the logarithms are to be Briggian all the series in the preceding formulae must be multiplied by M, the modulus; thus,

log10 (1 + x) = M (x − 1⁄2x2 + 1⁄3x3 − 1⁄4x4 + &c.),

and so on.

As has been stated, Abraham Sharp’s table contains 61-decimal Briggian logarithms of primes up to 1100, so that the logarithms of all composite numbers whose greatest prime factor does not exceed this number may be found by simple addition; and Wolfram’s table gives 48-decimal hyperbolic logarithms of primes up to 10,009. By means of these tables and of a factor table we may very readily obtain the Briggian logarithm of a number to 61 or a less number of places or of its hyperbolic logarithm to 48 or a less number of places in the following manner. Suppose the hyperbolic logarithm of the prime number 43,867 required. Multiplying by 50, we have 50 × 43,867 = 2,193,350, and on looking in Burckhardt’s Table des diviseurs for a number near to this which shall have no prime factor greater than 10,009, it appears that

2,193,349 = 23 × 47 × 2029;

thus

43,867 = 1⁄50 (23 × 47 × 2029 + 1),

and therefore

loge 43,867 = loge 23 + loge 47 + loge 2029 − loge 50

+ 1 − 1⁄2 1 + 1⁄3 1 − &c.

2,193,349 (2,193,349)2 (193,349)3

The first term of the series in the second line is

0.00000 04559 23795 07319 6286;

dividing this by 2 × 2,193,349 we obtain

0.00000 00000 00103 93325 3457,

and the third term is

0.00000 00000 00000 00003 1590,

so that the series =

0.00000 04559 23691 13997 4419;

whence, taking out the logarithms from Wolfram’s table,

loge 43,867 = 10.68891 76079 60568 10191 3661.

The principle of the method is to multiply the given prime (supposed to consist of 4, 5 or 6 figures) by such a factor that the product may be a number within the range of the factor tables, and such that, when it is increased by 1 or 2, the prime factors may all be within the range of the logarithmic tables. The logarithm is then obtained by use of the formula

loge (x + d) = loge x + d − 1⁄2 d2 + 1⁄3 d3 − &c.,

x x2 x3

in which of course the object is to render d/x as small as possible. If the logarithm required is Briggian, the value of the series is to be multiplied by M.

If the number is incommensurable or consists of more than seven figures, we can take the first seven figures of it (or multiply and divide the result by any factor, and take the first seven figures of the result) and proceed as before. An application to the hyperbolic logarithm of π is given by Burckhardt in the introduction to his Table des diviseurs for the second million.

The best general method of calculating logarithms consists, in its simplest form, in resolving the number whose logarithm is required into factors of the form 1 − .1rn, where n is one of the nine digits; and making use of subsidiary tables of logarithms of factors of this form. For example, suppose the logarithm of 543839 required to twelve places. Dividing by 105 and by 5 the number becomes 1.087678, and resolving this number into factors of the form 1 − .1rn we find that

543839 = 105 × 5(1 − .128) (1 − .146) (1 − .156) (1 − .163) (1 − .173)

× (1 − .185) (1 − .197) (1 − .1109) (1 − .1113) (1 − .1122),

where 1 − 128 denotes 1 − .08, 1 − .146 denotes 1 − .0006, &c., and so on. All that is required therefore in order to obtain the logarithm of any number is a table of logarithms, to the required number of places, of .n, .9n, .99n, .999n, &c., for n = 1, 2, 3, ... 9.

The resolution of a number into factors of the above form is easily performed. Taking, for example, the number 1.087678, the object is to destroy the significant figure 8 in the second place of decimals; this is effected by multiplying the number by 1-.08, that is, by subtracting from the number eight times itself advanced two places, and we thus obtain 1.00066376. To destroy the first 6 multiply by 1 − .0006 giving 1.000063361744, and multiplying successively by 1 − .00006 and 1 − .000003, we obtain 1.000000357932, and it is clear that these last six significant figures represent without any further work the remaining factors required. In the corresponding antilogarithmic process the number is expressed as a product of factors of the form 1 + .1nx.

This method of calculating logarithms by the resolution of numbers into factors of the form 1 − .1rn is generally known as Weddle’s method, having been published by him in The Mathematician for November 1845, and the corresponding method for antilogarithms by means of factors of the form 1 + (.1)rn is known by the name of Hearn, who published it in the same journal for 1847. In 1846 Peter Gray constructed a new table to 12 places, in which the factors were of the form 1 − (.01)rn, so that n had the values 1, 2, ... 99; and subsequently he constructed a similar table for factors of the form 1 + (.01)rn. He also devised a method of applying a table of Hearn’s form (i.e. of factors of the form 1 + .1rn) to the construction of logarithms, and calculated a table of logarithms of factors of the form 1 + (.001)rn to 24 places. This was published in 1876 under the title Tables for the formation of logarithms and antilogarithms to twenty-four or any less number of places, and contains the most complete and useful application of the method, with many improvements in points of detail. Taking as an example the calculation of the Briggian logarithm of the number 43,867, whose hyperbolic logarithm has been calculated above, we multiply it by 3, giving 131,601, and find by Gray’s process that the factors of 1.31601 are

(1) 1.316 (5) 1.(001)4002

(2) 1.000007 (6) 1.(001)5602

(3) 1.(001)2598 (7) 1.(001)6412

(4) 1.(001)3780 (8) 1.(001)7340

Taking the logarithms from Gray’s tables we obtain the required logarithm by addition as follows:—

522 878 745 280 337 562 704 972 = colog 3

119 255 889 277 936 685 553 913 = log (1)

3 040 050 733 157 610 239 = log (2)

259 708 022 525 453 597 = log (3)

338 749 695 752 424 = log (4)

868 588 964 = log (5)

261 445 278 = log (6)

178 929 = log (7)

148 = log (8)

4.642 137 934 655 780 757 288 464 = log10 43,867

In Shortrede’s Tables there are tables of logarithms and factors of the form 1 ± (.01)r n to 16 places and of the form 1 ± (.1)r n to 25 places; and in his Tables de Logarithmes à 27 Décimales (Paris, 1867) Fédor Thoman gives tables of logarithms of factors of the form 1 ± .1r n. In the Messenger of Mathematics, vol. iii. pp. 66-92, 1873, Henry Wace gave a simple and clear account of both the logarithmic and antilogarithmic processes, with tables of both Briggian and hyperbolic logarithms of factors of the form 1 ± .1rn to 20 places.

Although the method is usually known by the names of Weddle and Hearn, it is really, in its essential features, due to Briggs, who gave in the Arithmetica logarithmica of 1624 a table of the logarithms of 1 + .1rn up to r = 9 to 15 places of decimals. It was first formally proposed as an independent method, with great improvements, by Robert Flower in The Radix, a new way of making Logarithms, which was published in 1771; and Leonelli, in his Supplement logarithmique (1802-1803), already noticed, referred to Flower and reproduced some of his tables. A complete bibliography of this method has been given by A. J. Ellis in a paper “on the potential radix as a means of calculating logarithms,” printed in the Proceedings of the Royal Society, vol. xxxi., 1881, pp. 401-407, and vol. xxxii., 1881, pp. 377-379. Reference should also be made to Hoppe’s Tafeln zur dreissigstelligen logarithmischen Rechnung (Leipzig, 1876), which give in a somewhat modified form a table of the hyperbolic logarithm of 1 + .1rn.

The preceding methods are only appropriate for the calculation of isolated logarithms. If a complete table had to be reconstructed, or calculated to more places, it would undoubtedly be most convenient to employ the method of differences. A full account of this method as applied to the calculation of the Tables du Cadastre is given by Lefort in vol. iv. of the Annales de l’Observatoire de Paris.

(J. W. L. G.)


Dr Thomas Smith thus describes the ardour with which Briggs studied the Descriptio: “Hunc in deliciis habuit, in sinu, in manibus, in pectore gestavit, oculisque avidissimis, et mente attentissima, iterum iterumque perlegit,...” Vitae quorundam eruditissimorum et illustrium virorum (London, 1707).

William Lilly’s account of the meeting of Napier and Briggs at Merchiston is quoted in the article Napier.

It was certainly published after Napier’s death, as Briggs mentions his “librum posthumum.” This liber posthumus was the Constructio referred to later in this article.

Frisch’s Kepleri opera omnia, ii. 834. Frisch thinks Bramer possibly relied on Kepler’s statement quoted in the text (“Quibus forte confisus Kepleri verbis Benj. Bramer....”). See also vol. vii. p. 298.

The claims of Byrgius are discussed in Kästner’s Geschichte der Mathematik, ii. 375, and iii. 14; Montucla’s Histoire des mathématiques, ii. 10; Delambre’s Histoire de l’astronomie moderne, i. 560; de Morgan’s article on “Tables” in the English Cyclopaedia; Mark Napier’s Memoirs of John Napier of Merchiston (1834), p. 392, and Cantor’s Geschichte der Mathematik, ii. (1892), 662. See also Gieswald, Justus Byrg als Mathematiker und dessen Einleitung in seine Logarithmen (Danzig, 1856).

See Mark Napier’s Memoirs of John Napier of Merchiston (1834), p. 362.

In the Rabdologia (1617) he speaks of the canon of logarithms as “a me longo tempore elaboratum.”

A careful examination of the history of the method is given by Scheibel in his Einleitung zur mathematischen Bücherkenntniss, Stück vii. (Breslau, 1775), pp. 13-20; and there is also an account in Kästner’s Geschichte der Mathematik, i. 566-569 (1796); in Montucla’s Histoire des mathématiques, i. 583-585 and 617-619; and in Klügel’s Wörterbuch (1808), article “Prosthaphaeresis.”

Besides his connexion with logarithms and improvements in the method of prosthaphaeresis, Byrgius has a share in the invention of decimal fractions. See Cantor, Geschichte, ii. 567. Cantor attributes to him (in the use of his prosthaphaeresis) the first introduction of a subsidiary angle into trigonometry (vol. ii. 590).

The title of this work is—Benjaminis Ursini ... cursus mathematici practici volumen primum continens illustr. & generosi Dn. Dn. Johannis Neperi Baronis Merchistonij &c. Scoti trigonometriam logarithmicam usibus discentium accommodatam ... Coloniae ... CIɔ IɔC XIX. At the end, Napier’s table is reprinted, but to two figures less. This work forms the earliest publication of logarithms on the continent.

The title is Logarithmorum canonis descriptio, seu arithmeticarum supputationum mirabilis abbreviatio. Ejusque usus in utraque trigonometria ut etiam in omni logistica mathematica, amplissimi, facillimi & expeditissimi explicatio. Authore ac inventore Ioanne Nepero, Barone Merchistonii, &c. Scoto. Lugduni.... It will be seen that this title is different from that of Napier’s work of 1614; many writers have, however, erroneously given it as the title of the latter.

In describing the contents of the works referred to, the language and notation of the present day have been adopted, so that for example a table to radius 10,000,000 is described as a table to 7 places, and so on. Also, although logarithms have been spoken of as to the base e, &c., it is to be noticed that neither Napier nor Briggs, nor any of their successors till long afterwards, had any idea of connecting logarithms with exponents.

The smallest number of entries which are necessary in a table of logarithms in order that the intermediate logarithms may be calculable by proportional parts has been investigated by J. E. A. Steggall in the Proc. Edin. Math. Soc., 1892, 10, p. 35. This number is 1700 in the case of a seven-figure table extending to 100,000.

Accounts of Sang’s calculations are given in the Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin., 1872, 26, p. 521, and in subsequent papers in the Proceedings of the same society.

In vol. xv. (1875) of the Verhandelingen of the Amsterdam Academy of Sciences, Bierens de Haan has given a list of 553 tables of logarithms. A previous paper of the same kind, containing notices of some of the tables, was published by him in the Verslagen en Mededeelingen of the same academy (Afd. Natuurkunde) deel. iv. (1862), p. 15.

LOGAU, FRIEDRICH, Freiherr von (1604-1655), German epigrammatist, was born at Brockut, near Nimptsch, in Silesia, in June 1604. He was educated at the gymnasium of Brieg and subsequently studied law. He then entered the service of the duke of Brieg. In 1644 he was made “ducal councillor.” He died at Liegnitz on the 24th of July 1655. Logau’s epigrams, which appeared in two collections under the pseudonym “Salomon von Golaw” (an anagram of his real name) in 1638 (Erstes Hundert Teutscher Reimensprüche) and 1654 (Deutscher Sinngedichte drei Tausend), show a marvellous range and variety of expression. He had suffered bitterly under the adverse conditions of the time; but his satire is not merely the outcome of personal feeling. In the turbulent age of the Thirty Years’ War he was one of the few men who preserved intact his intellectual integrity and judged his contemporaries fairly. He satirized with unsparing hand the court life, the useless bloodshed of the war, the lack of national pride in the German people, and their slavish imitation of the French in customs, dress and speech. He belonged to the Fruchtbringende Gesellschaft under the name Der Verkleinernde, and regarded himself as a follower of Martin Opitz; but he did not allow such ties to influence his independence or originality.

Logau’s Sinngedichte were edited in 1759 by G. E. Lessing and K. W. Ramler, who first drew attention to their merits; a second edition appeared in 1791. A critical edition was published by G. Eitner in 1872, who also edited a selection of Logau’s epigrams for the Deutsche Dichter des XVII. Jahrhunderts (vol. iii., 1870); there is also a selection by H. Oesterley in Kürschner’s Deutsche Nationalliteratur, vol. xxviii. (1885). See H. Denker, Beiträge zur literarischen Würdigung Logaus (1889); W. Heuschkel, Untersuchungen über Ränders und Lessings Bearbeitung Logauscher Sinngedichte (1901).

LOGIA, a title used to describe a collection of the sayings of Jesus Christ (λόγια Ἰησοῦ) and therefore generally applied to the “Sayings of Jesus” discovered in Egypt by B. P. Grenfell and A. S. Hunt. There is some question as to whether the term is rightly used for this purpose. It does not occur in the Papyri in this sense. Each “saying” is introduced by the phrase “Jesus says” (λέγει) and the collection is described in the introductory words of the 1903 series as λόγοι not as λόγια. Some justification for the employment of the term is found in early Christian literature. Several writers speak of the λόγια τοῦ κυρίου or τὰ κυριακὰ λόγια, i.e. oracles of (or concerning) the Lord. Polycarp, for instance, speaks of “those who pervert the oracles of the Lord.” (Philipp. 7), and Papias, as Eusebius tells us, wrote a work with the title “Expositions of the Oracles of the Lord.” The expression has been variously interpreted. It need mean no more (Lightfoot, Essays on Supernatural Religion, 172 seq.) than narratives of (or concerning) the Lord; on the other hand, the phrase is capable of a much more definite meaning, and there are many scholars who hold that it refers to a document which contained a collection of the sayings of Jesus. Some such document, we know, must lie at the base of our Synoptic Gospels, and it is quite possible that it may have been known to and used by Papias. It is only on this assumption that the use of the term Logia in the sense described above can be justified.

“The Sayings,” to which the term Logia is generally applied, consist of (a) a papyrus leaf containing seven or eight sayings of Jesus discovered in 1897, (b) a second leaf containing five more sayings discovered in 1903, (c) two fragments of unknown Gospels, the former published in 1903, the latter in 1907. All these were found amongst the great mass of papyri acquired by the Egyptian Exploration Fund from the ruins of Oxyrhynchus, one of the chief early Christian centres in Egypt, situated some 120 m. S. of Cairo.

The eight “sayings” discovered in 1897 are as follows:—

1. ... καὶ τότε διαβλέψεις ἐκβαλεῖν τὸ κάρφος τὸ ἐν τῷ ὀφθαλμῷ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ σου.

2. Λέγει Ἰησοῦς ἐὰν μὴ νηστεύσητε τὸν κόσμον οὐ μὴ εὔρητε τὴν βασίλειαν τοῦ θεοῦ. καὶ ἐὰν μὴ σαββατίσητε τὸ σάββατον οὐκ ὄψεσθε τὸν πατέρα.

3. Λέγει Ἰησοῦς ἔ[σ]την ἐν μεσῷ τοῦ κόσμου καὶ ἐν σαρκὶ ὤφθην αὐτοῖς, καὶ εὖρον πάντας μεθύοντας καὶ οὐδένα εὖρον διψῶντα ἐν αὐτοῖς, καὶ πονεῖ ἡ ψυχή μου ἐπὶ τοῖς υὶοῖς τῶν ἀνθρώπων, ὅτι τυφλοί εἰσιν τῇ καρδίᾳ αὐτῶ[ν] κ[αὶ] ο̣ὐ̣ βλ̣έ[πουσιν]....

4. [Illegible: possibly joins on to 3] ... [τ]ὴν πτωχείαν.

5. [Λέγ]ει [Ἰησοῦς ὄπ]ου ἐὰν ὧσιν [β, οὐκ] ε[ἰσὶ]ν ἄθεοι καὶ [ὅ]που ε[ἶς] ἐστιν μόνος, [λέ]γω, ἐγώ εἰμι μετ᾽ αὐτ[οῦ] ἔγει[ρ]ον τὸν λίθον κἀκεῖ εὑρήσεις με, σχίσον τὸ ξύλον κἀγὼ ἐκεῖ εἰμι.

6. Λέγει Ἰησοῦς ούκ ἔστιν δεκτὸς προφήτης ἐν τῇ πατρίδι αὐτ[ο]ῦ, οὐδὲ ἰατρὸς ποιεῖ θεραπείας εἰς τοὺς γινώσκοντας αὐτόν.

7. Λέγει Ἰησοῦς πόλιςοἰ κοδομημένη ἐπ᾽ ἄκρον [ὄ]ρους ὑψηλοῦ καὶ ἐστηριγμένη οὔτε πε[σ]εῖν δύναται οὔτε κρυ[β]ῆναι.

8. Λέγει Ἰησοῦς ἀκούεις [ε]ἰ̣ς τ̣ὸ ἓ̣ν̣ ᾠ̣τ̣ίον σοῦ τ̣ὸ [δὲ ἕτερον συνέκλεισας].

Letters in brackets are missing in the original: letters which are dotted beneath are doubtful.

1. “... and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote that is in thy brother’s eye.”

2. “Jesus saith, Except ye fast to the world, ye shall in no wise find the kingdom of God; and except ye make the sabbath a real sabbath, ye shall not see the Father.”

3. “Jesus saith, I stood in the midst of the world and in the flesh was I seen of them, and I found all men drunken, and none found I athirst among them, and my soul grieveth over the sons of men, because they are blind in their heart, and see not....”

4. “... poverty....”

5. “Jesus saith, Wherever there are two, they are not without God, and wherever there is one alone, I say, I am with him. Raise the stone and there thou shalt find me, cleave the wood and there am I.”

6. “Jesus saith, A prophet is not acceptable in his own country, neither doth a physician work cures upon them that know him.”

7. “Jesus saith, A city built upon the top of a high hill and stablished can neither fall nor be hid.”

8. “Jesus saith, Thou hearest with one ear [but the other ear hast thou closed].”

The “sayings” of 1903 were prefaced by the following introductory statement:—

οἱ τοῖοι οἱ λόγοι οἱ [... οὓς ἐλάλησεν Ἰη(σοῦ)ς ὁ ζῶν κ[ύριος? ... καὶ Θωμᾷ καὶ εἶπεν [αὐτοῖς· πᾶς ὅστις ἂν τῶν λόγων τούτ[ων ἀκούσῃ θανάτου οὐ μὴ γεύσηται.

“These are the (wonderful?) words which Jesus the living (Lord) spake to ... and Thomas and he said unto (them) every one that hearkens to these words shall never taste of death.”

The “sayings” themselves are as follows:—

(1) [λέγει Ἰη(σοῦ)ς· μὴ παυσάσθω ὁ ζη[τῶν ...

ἕως ἄν εὕρῃ καὶ ὅταν εὔρῃ [θαμβηθήσεαι
καὶ θαμβηθεὶς βασιλεύσει κα[ὶ βασιλεύσας
ἀναπαήσεται.

(2) λέγει Ἰ[η(σοῦς ... τίνες ...

οἱ ἕλκοντες ἡμᾶς [εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν εἰ
ἡ βασιλεία ἐν οὐρα[νῷ ἐστιν;
τὰ πετεινὰ τοῦ οὐρ[ανοῦ καὶ τῶν θηρίων ὅ
τι ὑπὸ τὴν γῆν ἐστ[ιν ἤ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς καὶ
οἱ ἰχθύες τῆς θαλά[σσης οὖτοι οἱ ἕλκον-
τες ὑμᾶς καὶ ῇ βασ[ιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν
ἐντὸς ὐμῶν [ἐ]στι [καὶ ὅστις ἃν ἑαυτὸν
γνῷ ταύτην εὑρή[σει ...
ἑαυτοὺς γνώσεσθε [καὶ εἰδήσετε ὅτι υἱοὶ
ἔστε ὑμεῖς τοῦ πατρὸς τοῦ τ[ ...
γνώσ(εσ)θε ἐαυτοὺς ἐν[ ...
καὶ ὑ εῖς ἐστὲ ηπτο̣[

(3) [ λέγει Ἰη(σοῦ)ς

οὐκ ἀποκνήσει ἄνθ[ρωπος ...
ρων ἐπερωτῆσαι πα[ ...
ρων περὶ τοῦ τόπου τῆ[ς ...
σετε ὅτι πολλοὶ ἔσονται π[ρῶτοι ἔσχατοι καὶ
οἱ ἕσχατοι πρῶτοι καὶ [ ...
σιν.

(4) λέγει Ἰη(σοῦ)ς· [πᾶν τὸ μὴ ἔμπροσ-

θεν τῆς ὅψεως σου καὶ[τὸ κεκρυμμένον
ἀπὸ σοῦ ἀποκαλυφ(θ)ήσετ[αί σοι. οὐ γάρ ἐσ-
τιν κρυπτὸν ὃ οὐ φανε[ρὸν γενήσεται
καὶ τεθαμμένον ὃ ο[ὐκ ἐγερθήσεται.

(5) [ἐξ] ετάζουσιν αὐτὸν ο[ἱ μαθηταἱ αὐτοῦ καὶ

[λέ]γουσιν· πῶς νηστεύ[σομεν καὶ πῶς ...
[ ... ] μεθα καὶ πῶς [ ...
[ ... κ]αὶ τί παρατηρήσ[ομεν ...
[ ... ]ν; λέγει Ἰη(σοῦ)ς· [ ...
[ ... ]ειται μὴ ποεῖτ[ε ...
[ ... ]ης ἀληθείας ἀν[ ...
[ ... ]ν ἀ[π]οκεκρ[υ ...
[ ... μα] κάρι[ός] ἐστιν [ ...
[ ... ]ω ἐστ[ι ...
[ ... ]ιν [ ...

1. “Jesus saith, Let not him who seeks ... cease until he finds and when he finds he shall be astonished; astonished he shall reach the kingdom and having reached the kingdom he shall rest.”

2. “Jesus saith (ye ask? who are those) that draw us (to the kingdom if) the kingdom is in Heaven? ... the fowls of the air and all beasts that are under the earth or upon the earth and the fishes of the sea (these are they which draw) you and the kingdom of Heaven is within you and whosoever shall know himself shall find it. (Strive therefore?) to know yourselves and ye shall be aware that ye are the sons of the (Almighty?) Father; (and?) ye shall know that ye are in (the city of God?) and ye are (the city?).”

3. “Jesus saith, A man shall not hesitate ... to ask concerning his place (in the kingdom. Ye shall know) that many that are first shall be last and the last first and (they shall have eternal life?).”

4. “Jesus saith, Everything that is not before thy face and that which is hidden from thee shall be revealed to thee. For there is nothing hidden which shall not be made manifest nor buried which shall not be raised.”

5. “His disciples question him and say, How shall we fast and how shall we (pray?) ... and what (commandment) shall we keep ... Jesus saith ... do not ... of truth ... blessed is he ...”

The fragment of a lost Gospel which was discovered in 1903 contained originally about fifty lines, but many of them have perished and others are undecipherable. The translation, as far as it can be made out, is as follows:—

1-7. “(Take no thought) from morning until even nor from evening until morning either for your food what ye shall eat or for your raiment what ye shall put on. 7-13. Ye are far better than the lilies which grow but spin not. Having one garment what do ye (lack)?... 13-15. Who could add to your stature? 15-16. He himself will give you your garment. 17-23. His disciples say unto him, When wilt thou be manifest unto us and when shall we see thee? He saith, When ye shall be stripped and not be ashamed ... 41-46. He said, The key of knowledge ye hid: ye entered not in yourselves, and to them that were entering in, ye opened not.”

The second Gospel fragment discovered in 1907 “consists of a single vellum leaf, practically complete except at one of the lower corners and here most of the lacunae admit of a satisfactory solution.” The translation is as follows:—

... before he does wrong makes all manner of subtle excuse. But give heed lest ye also suffer the same things as they: for the evil doers among men receive their reward not among the living only, but also await punishment and much torment. And he took them and brought them into the very place of purification and was walking in the temple. And a certain Pharisee, a chief priest, whose name was Levi, met them and said to the Saviour, Who gave thee leave to walk in this place of purification, and to see these holy vessels when thou hast not washed nor yet have thy disciples bathed their feet? But defiled thou hast walked in this temple, which is a pure place, wherein no other man walks except he has washed himself and changed his garments neither does he venture to see these holy vessels. And the Saviour straightway stood still with his disciples and answered him, Art thou then, being here in the temple, clean? He saith unto him, I am clean; for I washed in the pool of David and having descended by one staircase, I ascended by another and I put on white and clean garments, and then I came and looked upon these holy vessels. The Saviour answered and said unto him, Woe ye blind, who see not. Thou hast washed in these running waters wherein dogs and swine have been cast night and day and hast cleansed and wiped the outside skin which also the harlots and flute-girls anoint and wash and wipe and beautify for the lust of men; but within they are full of scorpions and all wickedness. But I and my disciples who thou sayest have not bathed have been dipped in the waters of eternal life which come from.... But woe unto thee....

These documents have naturally excited considerable interest and raised many questions. The papyri of the “sayings” date from the 3rd century and most scholars agree that the “sayings” themselves go back to the 2nd. The year A.D. 140 is generally assigned as the terminus ad quem. The problem as to their origin has been keenly discussed. There are two main types of theory. (1) Some suppose that they are excerpts from an uncanonical Gospel. (2) Others think that they represent an independent and original collection of sayings. The first theory has assumed three main forms. (a) Harnack maintains that they were taken from the Gospel according to the Egyptians. This theory, however, is based upon a hypothetical reconstruction of the Gospel in question which has found very few supporters. (b) Others have advocated the Gospel of the Hebrews as the source of the “sayings,” on the ground of the resemblance between the first “saying” of the 1903 series and a well-authenticated fragment of that Gospel. The resemblance, however, is not sufficiently clear to support the conclusion. (c) A third view supposes that they are extracts from the Gospel of Thomas—an apocryphal Gospel dealing with the boyhood of Jesus. Beyond the allusion to Thomas in the introductory paragraph to the 1903 series, there seems to be no tangible evidence in support of this view. The second theory, which maintains that the papyri represent an independent collection of “sayings,” seems to be the opinion which has found greatest favour. It has won the support of W. Sanday, H. B. Swete, Rendel Harris, W. Lock, Heinrici, &c. There is a considerable diversity of judgment, however, with regard to the value of the collection. (a) Some scholars maintain that the collection goes back to the 1st century and represents one of the earliest attempts to construct an account of the teaching of Jesus. They are therefore disposed to admit to a greater or less extent and with widely varying degrees of confidence the presence of genuine elements in the new matter. (b) Sanday and many others regard the sayings as originating early in the 2nd century and think that, though not “directly dependent on the Canonical Gospels,” they have “their origin under conditions of thought which these Gospels had created.” The “sayings” must be regarded as expansions of the true tradition, and little value is therefore to be attached to the new material.

With the knowledge at our disposal, it is impossible to reach an assured conclusion between these two views. The real problem, to which at present no solution has been found, is to account for the new material in the “sayings.” There seems to be no motive sufficient to explain the additions that have been made to the text of the Gospels. It cannot be proved that the expansions have been made in the interests of any sect or heresy. Unless new discoveries provide the clue, or some reasonable explanation can otherwise be found, there seems to be no reason why we should not regard the “sayings” as containing material which ought to be taken into account in the critical study of the teaching of Jesus.

The 1903 Gospel fragment is so mutilated in many of its parts that it is difficult to decide upon its character and value. It appears to be earlier than 150, and to be taken from a Gospel which followed more or less closely the version of the teaching of Jesus given by Matthew and Luke. The phrase “when ye shall be stripped and not be ashamed” contains an idea which has some affinity with two passages found respectively in the Gospel according to the Egyptians and the so-called Second Epistle of Clement. The resemblance, however, is not sufficiently close to warrant the deduction that either the Gospel of the Egyptians or the Gospel from which the citation in 2 Clement is taken (if these two are distinct) is the source from which our fragment is derived.

The second Gospel fragment (1907) seems to be of later origin than the documents already mentioned. Grenfell and Hunt date the Gospel, from which it is an excerpt, about 200. There is considerable difficulty with regard to some of the details. The statement that an ordinary Jew was required to wash and change his clothes before visiting the inner court of the temple is quite unsupported by any other evidence. Nothing is known about “the place of purification” (ἁγνευτήριον) nor “the pool of David” (λίμνη τοῦ Δαυείδ). Nor does the statement that “the sacred vessels” were visible from the place where Jesus was standing seem at all probable. Grenfell and Hunt conclude therefore—“So great indeed are the divergences between this account and the extant and no doubt well-informed authorities with regard to the topography and ritual of the Temple that it is hardly possible to avoid the conclusion that much of the local colour is due to the imagination of the author who was aiming chiefly at dramatic effect and was not really well acquainted with the Temple. But if the inaccuracy of the fragment in this important respect is admitted the historical character of the whole episode breaks down and it is probably to be regarded as an apocryphal elaboration of Matt. xv. 1-20 and Mark vii. 1-23.”

See the Oxyrhynchus Papyri, part i. (1897), part iv. (1904), part v. (1908).

(H. T. A.)

LOGIC (λογική, sc. τέχνη, the art of reasoning), the name given to one of the four main departments of philosophy, though its sphere is very variously delimited. The present article is divided into 1. The Problems of Logic, II. History.

I. The Problems of Logic.

Introduction.—Logic is the science of the processes of inference, what, then, is inference? It is that mental operation which proceeds by combining two premises so as to cause a consequent conclusion. Some suppose that we may infer from one premise by a so-called “immediate inference.” But one premise can only reproduce itself in another form, e.g. all men are some animals; therefore some animals are men. It requires the combination of at least two premises to infer a conclusion different from both. There are as many kinds of inference as there are different ways of combining premises, and in the main three types:—

1. Analogical Inference, from particular to particular: e.g. border-war between Thebes and Phocis is evil; border-war between Thebes and Athens is similar to that between Thebes and Phocis; therefore, border-war between Thebes and Athens is evil.

2. Inductive Inference, from particular to universal: e.g. border-war between Thebes and Phocis is evil; all border-war is like that between Thebes and Phocis; therefore, all border-war is evil.

3. Deductive or Syllogistic Inference, from universal to particular, e.g. all border-war is evil; border-war between Thebes and Athens is border-war; therefore border-war between Thebes and Athens is evil.

In each of these kinds of inference there are three mental judgments capable of being expressed as above in three linguistic propositions; and the two first are the premises which are combined, while the third is the conclusion which is consequent on their combination. Each proposition consists of two terms, the subject and its predicate, united by the copula. Each inference contains three terms. In syllogistic inference the subject of the conclusion is the minor term, and its predicate the major term, while between these two extremes the term common to the two premises is the middle term, and the premise containing the middle and major terms is the major premise, the premise containing the middle and minor terms the minor premise. Thus in the example of syllogism given above, “border-war between Thebes and Athens” is the minor term, “evil” the major term, and “border-war” the middle term. Using S for minor, P for major and M for middle, and preserving these signs for corresponding terms in analogical and inductive inferences, we obtain the following formula of the three inferences:—

Analogical. Inductive. Deductive or Syllogistic.

S1 is P S is P Every M is P

S2 is similar to S1 Every M is similar to S S is M

∴ S2 is P. ∴ Every M is P. ∴ S is P.

The love of unity has often made logicians attempt to resolve these three processes into one. But each process has a peculiarity of its own; they are similar, not the same. Analogical and inductive inference alike begin with a particular premise containing one or more instances; but the former adds a particular premise to draw a particular conclusion, the latter requires a universal premise to draw a universal conclusion. A citizen of Athens, who had known the evils of the border-war between Thebes and Phocis, would readily perceive the analogy of a similar war between Thebes and Athens, and conclude analogously that it would be evil; but he would have to generalize the similarity of all border-wars in order to draw the inductive conclusion that all alike are evil. Induction and deduction differ still more, and are in fact opposed, as one makes a particular premise the evidence of a universal conclusion, the other makes a universal premise evidence of a particular conclusion. Yet they are alike in requiring the generalization of the universal and the belief that there are classes which are whole numbers of similars. On this point both differ from inference by analogy, which proceeds entirely from particular premises to a particular conclusion. Hence we may redivide inference into particular inference by analogy and universal inference by induction and deduction. Universal inference is what we call reasoning; and its two species are very closely connected, because universal conclusions of induction become universal premises of deduction. Indeed, we often induce in order to deduce, ascending from particular to universal and descending from universal to particular in one act as it were; so that we may proceed either directly from particular to particular by analogical inference, or indirectly from particular through universal to particular by an inductive-deductive inference which might be called “perduction.” On the whole, then, analogical, inductive and deductive inferences are not the same but three similar and closely connected processes.

The three processes of inference, though different from one another, rest on a common principle of similarity of which each is a different application. Analogical inference requires that one particular is similar to another, induction that a whole number or class is similar to its particular instances, deduction that each particular is similar to the whole number or class. Not that these inferences require us to believe, or assume, or premise or formulate this principle either in general, or in its applied forms: the premises are all that any inference needs the mind to assume. The principle of similarity is used, not assumed by the inferring mind, which in accordance with the similarity of things and the parity of inference spontaneously concludes in the form that similars are similarly determined (“similia similibus convenire”). In applying this principle of similarity, each of the three processes in its own way has to premise both that something is somehow determined and that something is similar, and by combining these premises to conclude that this is similarly determined to that. Thus the very principle of inference by similarity requires it to be a combination of premises in order to draw a conclusion.

The three processes, as different applications of the principle of similarity, consisting of different combinations of premises, cause different degrees of cogency in their several conclusions. Analogy hardly requires as much evidence as induction. Men speculate about the analogy between Mars and the earth, and infer that it is inhabited, without troubling about all the planets. Induction has to consider more instances, and the similarity of a whole number or class. Even so, however, it starts from a particular premise which only contains many instances, and leaves room to doubt the universality of its conclusions. But deduction, starting from a premise about all the members of a class, compels a conclusion about every and each of necessity. One border-war may be similar to another, and the whole number may be similar, without being similarly evil; but if all alike are evil, each is evil of necessity. Deduction or syllogism is superior to analogy and induction in combining premises so as to involve or contain the conclusion. For this reason it has been elevated by some logicians above all other inferences, and for this very same reason attacked by others as no inference at all. The truth is that, though the premises contain the conclusion, neither premise alone contains it, and a man who knows both but does not combine them does not draw the conclusion; it is the synthesis of the two premises which at once contains the conclusion and advances our knowledge; and as syllogism consists, not indeed in the discovery, but essentially in the synthesis of two premises, it is an inference and an advance on each premise and on both taken separately. As again the synthesis contains or involves the conclusion, syllogism has the advantage of compelling assent to the consequences of the premises. Inference in general is a combination of premises to cause a conclusion; deduction is such a combination as to compel a conclusion involved in the combination, and following from the premises of necessity.

Nevertheless, deduction or syllogism is not independent of the other processes of inference. It is not the primary inference of its own premises, but constantly converts analogical and inductive conclusions into its particular and universal premises. Of itself it causes a necessity of consequence, but only a hypothetical necessity; if these premises are true, then this conclusion necessarily follows. To eliminate this “if” ultimately requires other inferences before deduction. Especially, induction to universals is the warrant and measure of deduction from universals. So far as it is inductively true that all border-war is evil, it is deductively true that a given border-war is therefore evil. Now, as an inductive combination of premises does not necessarily involve the inductive conclusion, induction normally leads, not to a necessary, but to a probable conclusion; and whenever its probable conclusions become deductive premises, the deduction only involves a probable conclusion. Can we then infer any certainty at all? In order to answer this question we must remember that there are many degrees of probability, and that induction, and therefore deduction, draw conclusions more or less probable, and rise to the point at which probability becomes moral certainty, or that high degree of probability which is sufficient to guide our lives, and even condemn murderers to death. But can we rise still higher and infer real necessity? This is a difficult question, which has received many answers. Some noölogists suppose a mental power of forming necessary principles of deduction a priori; but fail to show how we can apply principles of mind to things beyond mind. Some empiricists, on the other hand, suppose that induction only infers probable conclusions which are premises of probable deductions; but they give up all exact science. Between these extremes there is room for a third theory, empirical yet providing a knowledge of the really necessary. In some cases of induction concerned with objects capable of abstraction and simplification, we have a power of identification, by which, not a priori but in the act of inducing a conclusion, we apprehend that the things signified by its subject and predicate are one and the same thing which cannot exist apart from itself. Thus by combined induction and identification we apprehend that one and one are the same as two, that there is no difference between a triangle and a three-sided rectilineal figure, that a whole must be greater than its part by being the whole, that inter-resisting bodies necessarily force one another apart, otherwise they would not be inter-resisting but occupy the same place at the same moment. Necessary principles, discovered by this process of induction and identification, become premises of deductive demonstration to conclusions which are not only necessary consequents on the premises, but also equally necessary in reality. Induction thus is the source of deduction, of its truth, of its probability, of its moral certainty; and induction, combined with identification, is the origin of the necessary principles of demonstration or deduction to necessary conclusions.

Analogical inference in its turn is as closely allied with induction. Like induction, it starts from a particular premise, containing one or more examples or instances; but, as it is easier to infer a particular than a universal conclusion, it supplies particular conclusions which in their turn become further particular premises of induction. Its second premise is indeed merely a particular apprehension that one particular is similar to another, whereas the second premise of induction is a universal apprehension that a whole number of particulars is similar to those from which the inference starts; but at bottom these two apprehensions of similarity are so alike as to suggest that the universal premise of induction has arisen as a generalized analogy. It seems likely that man has arrived at the apprehension of a whole individual, e.g. a whole animal including all its parts, and thence has inferred by analogy a whole number, or class, e.g. of animals including all individual animals; and accordingly that the particular analogy of one individual to another has given rise to the general analogy of every to each individual in a class, or whole number of individuals, contained in the second premise of induction. In this case, analogical inference has led to induction, as induction to deduction. Further, analogical inference from particular to particular suggests inductive-deductive inference from particular through universal to particular.

Newton, according to Dr Pemberton, thought in 1666 that the moon moves so like a falling body that it has a similar centripetal force to the earth, 20 years before he demonstrated this conclusion from the laws of motion in the Principia. In fact, analogical, inductive and deductive inferences, though different processes of combining premises to cause different conclusions, are so similar and related, so united in principle and interdependent, so consolidated into a system of inference, that they cannot be completely investigated apart, but together constitute a single subject of science. This science of inference in general is logic.

Logic, however, did not begin as a science of all inference. Rather it began as a science of reasoning (λόγος), of syllogism (συλλογισμός), of deductive inference. Aristotle was its founder. He was anticipated of course by many generations of spontaneous thinking (logica naturalis). Many of the higher animals infer by analogy: otherwise we cannot explain their thinking. Man so infers at first: otherwise we cannot explain the actions of young children, who before they begin to speak give no evidence of universal thinking. It is likely that man began with particular inference and with particular language; and that, gradually generalizing thought and language, he learnt at last to think and say “all,” to infer universally, to induce and deduce, to reason, in short, and raise himself above other animals. In ancient times, and especially in Egypt, Babylon and Greece, he went on to develop reason into science or the systematic investigation of definite subjects, e.g. arithmetic of number, geometry of magnitude, astronomy of stars, politics of government, ethics of goods. In Greece he became more and more reflective and conscious of himself, of his body and soul, his manners and morals, his mental operations and especially his reason. One of the characteristics of Greek philosophers is their growing tendency, in investigating any subject, to turn round and ask themselves what should be the method of investigation. In this way the Presocratics and Sophists, and still more Socrates and Plato, threw out hints on sense and reason, on inferential processes and scientific methods which may be called anticipations of logic. But Aristotle was the first to conceive of reasoning itself as a definite subject of a special science, which he called analytics or analytic science, specially designed to analyse syllogism and especially demonstrative syllogism, or science, and to be in fact a science of sciences. He was therefore the founder of the science of logic.

Among the Aristotelian treatises we have the following, which together constitute this new science of reasoning:—

1. The Categories, or names signifying things which can become predicates;

2. The De Interpretatione, or the enumeration of conceptions and their combinations by (1) nouns and verbs (names), (2) enunciations (propositions);

3. The Prior Analytics, on syllogism;

4. The Posterior Analytics, on demonstrative syllogism, or science;

5. The Topics, on dialectical syllogism; or argument;

6. The Sophistical Elenchi, on sophistical or contentious syllogism, or sophistical fallacies.

So far as we know, Aristotle had no one name for all these investigations. “Analytics” is only applied to the Prior and Posterior Analytics, and “logical,” which he opposed to “analytical,” only suits the Topics and at most the Sophistical Elenchi; secondly, while he analyzed syllogism into premises, major and minor, and premises into terms, subject and predicate, he attempted no division of the whole science; thirdly, he attempted no order and arrangement of the treatises into a system of logic, but only of the Analytics, Topics and Sophistical Elenchi into a system of syllogisms. Nevertheless, when his followers had arranged the treatises into the Organon, as they called it to express that it is an instrument of science, then there gradually emerged a system of syllogistic logic, arranged in the triple division—terms, propositions and syllogisms—which has survived to this day as technical logic, and has been the foundation of all other logics, even of those which aim at its destruction.

The main problem which Aristotle set before him was the analysis of syllogism, which he defined as “reasoning in which certain things having been posited something different from them of necessity follows by their being those things” (Prior Analytics, i. 1). What then did he mean by reasoning, or rather by the Greek word λόγος of which “reasoning” is an approximate rendering? It was meant (cf. Post. An. i. 10) to be both internal, in the soul (ὁ ἔσω λόγος, ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ), and external, in language (ὁ ἔξω λόγος): hence after Aristotle the Stoics distinguished λόγος ἐνδιάθετος and προφορικός. It meant, then, both reason and discourse of reason (cf. Shakespeare, Hamlet, i. 2). On its mental side, as reason it meant combination of thoughts. On its linguistic side, as discourse it was used for any combination of names to form a phrase, such as the definition “rational animal,” or a book, such as the Iliad. It had also the mathematical meaning of ratio; and in its use for definition it is sometimes transferred to essence as the object of definition, and has a mixed meaning, which may be expressed by “account.” In all its uses, however, the common meaning is combination. When Aristotle called syllogism λόγος, he meant that it is a combination of premises involving a conclusion of necessity. Moreover, he tended to confine the term λόγος to syllogistic inference. Not that he omitted other inferences (πίστεις). On the contrary, to him (cf. Prior Analytics, ii. 24) we owe the triple distinction into inference from particular to particular (παράδειγμα, example, or what we call “analogy”), inference from particular to universal (ἐπαγωγή, induction), and inference from universal to particular (συλλογισμός, syllogism, or deduction). But he thought that inferences other than syllogism are imperfect; that analogical inference is rhetorical induction; and that induction, through the necessary preliminary of syllogism and the sole process of ascent from sense, memory and experience to the principles of science, is itself neither reasoning nor science. To be perfect he thought that all inference must be reduced to syllogism of the first figure, which he regarded as the specially scientific inference. Accordingly, the syllogism appeared to him to be the rational process (μετὰ λόγου), and the demonstrative syllogism from inductively discovered principles to be science (ἐπιστήμη). Hence, without his saying it in so many words, Aristotle’s logic perforce became a logic of deductive reasoning, or syllogism. As it happened this deductive tendency helped the development of logic. The obscurer premises of analogy and induction, together with the paucity of experience and the backward state of physical science in Aristotle’s time would have baffled even his analytical genius. On the other hand, the demonstrations of mathematical sciences of his time, and the logical forms of deduction evinced in Plato’s dialogues, provided him with admirable examples of deduction, which is also the inference most capable of analysis. Aristotle’s analysis of the syllogism showed man how to advance by combining his thoughts in trains of deductive reasoning. Nevertheless, the wider question remained for logic: what is the nature of all inference, and the special form of each of its three main processes?

As then the reasoning of the syllogism was the main problem of Aristotle’s logic, what was his analysis of it? In distinguishing inner and outer reason, or reasoning and discourse, he added that it is not to outer reason but to inner reason in the soul that demonstration and syllogism are directed (Post. An. i. 10). One would expect, then, an analysis of mental reasoning into mental judgments (κρίσεις) as premises and conclusion. In point of fact, he analysed it into premises, but then analysed a premise into terms, which he divided into subject and predicate, with the addition of the copula “is” or “is not.” This analysis, regarded as a whole and as it is applied in the Analytics and in the other logical treatises, was evidently intended as a linguistic analysis. So in the Categories, he first divided things said (τὰ λεγόμενα) into uncombined and combined, or names and propositions, and then divided the former into categories; and in the De interpretatione he expressly excluded mental conceptions and their combinations, and confined himself to nouns and verbs and enunciations, or, as we should say, to names and propositions. Aristotle apparently intended, or at all events has given logicians in general the impression, that he intended to analyse syllogism into propositions as premises, and premise into names as terms. His logic therefore exhibits the curious paradox of being an analysis of mental reasoning into linguistic elements. The explanation is that outer speech is more obvious than inner thought, and that grammar and poetic criticism, rhetoric and dialectic preceded logic, and that out of those arts of language arose the science of reasoning. The sophist Protagoras had distinguished various kinds of sentences, and Plato had divided the sentence into noun and verb, signifying a thing and the action of a thing. Rhetoricians had enumerated various means of persuasion, some of which are logical forms, e.g. probability and sign, example and enthymeme. Among the dialecticians, Socrates had used inductive arguments to obtain definitions as data of deductive arguments against his opponents, and Plato had insisted on the processes of ascending to and descending from an unconditional principle by the power of giving and receiving argument. All these points about speech, eloquence and argument between man and man were absorbed into Aristotle’s theory of reasoning, and in particular the grammar of the sentence consisting of noun and verb caused the logic of the proposition consisting of subject and predicate. At the same time, Aristotle was well aware that the science of reasoning is no art of language and must take up a different position towards speech as the expression of thought. In the Categories he classified names, not, however, as a grammarian by their structure, but as a logician by their signification. In the De interpretatione, having distinguished the enunciation, or proposition, from other sentences as that in which there is truth or falsity, he relegated the rest to rhetoric or poetry, and founded the logic of the proposition, in which, however, he retained the grammatical analysis into noun and verb. In the Analytics he took the final step of originating the logical analysis of the proposition as premise into subject and predicate as terms mediated by the copula, and analysed the syllogism into these elements. Thus did he become the founder of the logical but linguistic analysis of reasoning as discourse (ὁ ἔξω λόγος) into propositions and terms. Nevertheless, the deeper question remained, what is the logical but mental analysis of reasoning itself (ὁ ἔσω λόγος) into its mental premises and conclusion?

Aristotle thus was the founder of logic as a science. But he laid too much stress on reasoning as syllogism or deduction, and on deductive science; and he laid too much stress on the linguistic analysis of rational discourse into proposition and terms. These two defects remain ingrained in technical logic to this day. But in the course of the development of the science, logicians have endeavoured to correct those defects, and have diverged into two schools. Some have devoted themselves to induction from sense and experience and widened logic till it has become a general science of inference and scientific method. Others have devoted themselves to the mental analysis of reasoning, and have narrowed logic into a science of conception, judgment and reasoning. The former belong to the school of empirical logic, the latter to the school of conceptual and formal logic. Both have started from points which Aristotle indicated without developing them. But we shall find that his true descendants are the empirical logicians.

Aristotle was the first of the empiricists. He consistently maintained that sense is knowledge of particulars and the origin of scientific knowledge of universals. In his view, sense is a congenital form of judgment (δύναμις σύμφυτος κριτική, Post. An. ii. 19); a sensation of each of the five senses is always true of its proper object; without sense there is no science; sense is the origin of induction, which is the origin of deduction and science. The Analytics end (Post. An. ii. 19) with a detailed system of empiricism, according to which sense is the primary knowledge of particulars, memory is the retention of a sensation, experience is the sum of many memories, induction infers universals, and intelligence is the true apprehension of the universal principles of science, which is rational, deductive, demonstrative, from empirical principles.

This empirical groundwork of Aristotle’s logic was accepted by the Epicureans, who enunciated most distinctly the fundamental doctrine that all sensations are true of their immediate objects, and falsity begins with subsequent opinions, or what the moderns call “interpretation.” Beneath deductive logic, in the logic of Aristotle and the canonic of the Epicureans, there already lay the basis of empirical logic: sensory experience is the origin of all inference and science. It remained for Francis Bacon to develop these beginnings into a new logic of induction. He did not indeed accept the infallibility of sense or of any other operation unaided. He thought, rather, that every operation becomes infallible by method. Following Aristotle in this order—sense, memory, intellect—he resolved the whole process of induction into three ministrations:—

1. The ministration to sense, aided by observation and experiment.

2. The ministration to memory, aided by registering and arranging the data, of observation and experiment in tables of instances of agreement, difference and concomitant variations.

3. The ministration to intellect or reason, aided by the negative elimination by means of contradictory instances of whatever in the instances is not always present, absent and varying with the given subject investigated, and finally by the positive inference that whatever in the instances is always present, absent and varying with the subject is its essential cause.

Bacon, like Aristotle, was anticipated in this or that point; but, as Aristotle was the first to construct a system of deduction in the syllogism and its three figures, so Bacon was the first to construct a system of induction in three ministrations, in which the requisites of induction, hitherto recognized only in sporadic hints, were combined for the first time in one logic of induction. Bacon taught men to labour in inferring from particular to universal, to lay as much stress on induction as on deduction, and to think and speak of inductive reasoning, inductive science, inductive logic. Moreover, while Aristotle had the merit of discerning the triplicity of inference, to Bacon we owe the merit of distinguishing the three processes without reduction:—

1. Inference from particular to particular by Experientia Literata, in plano;

2. Inference from particular to universal by Inductio, ascendendo;

3. Inference from universal to particular by Syllogism, descendendo.

In short, the comprehensive genius of Bacon widened logic into a general science of inference.

On the other hand, as Aristotle over-emphasized deduction so Bacon over-emphasized induction by contending that it is the only process of discovering universals (axiomata), which deduction only applies to particulars. J. S. Mill in his Logic pointed out this defect, and without departing from Baconian principles remedied it by quoting scientific examples, in which deduction, starting from inductive principles, applies more general to less general universals, e.g. when the more general law of gravitation is shown to include the less general laws of planetary gravitation. Mill’s logic has the great merit of copiously exemplifying the principles of the variety of method according to subject-matter. It teaches us that scientific method is sometimes induction, sometimes deduction, and sometimes the consilience of both, either by the inductive verification of previous deductions, or by the deductive explanation of previous inductions.

It is also most interesting to notice that Aristotle saw further than Bacon in this direction. The founder of logic anticipated the latest logic of science, when he recognized, not only the deduction of mathematics, but also the experience of facts followed by deductive explanations of their causes in physics.

The consilience of empirical and deductive processes was an Aristotelian discovery, elaborated by Mill against Bacon. On the whole, however, Aristotle, Bacon and Mill, purged from their errors, form one empirical school, gradually growing by adapting itself to the advance of science; a school in which Aristotle was most influenced by Greek deductive Mathematics, Bacon by the rise of empirical physics at the Renaissance, and Mill by the Newtonian combination of empirical facts and mathematical principles in the Principia. From studying this succession of empirical logicians, we cannot doubt that sense, memory and experience are the real origin of inference, analogical, inductive and deductive. The deepest problem of logic is the relation of sense and inference. But we must first consider the mental analysis of inference, and this brings us to conceptual and formal logic.

Aristotle’s logic has often been called formal logic; it was really a technical logic of syllogism analysed into linguistic elements, and of science rested on an empirical basis. At the same time his psychology, though maintaining his empiricism, contained some seeds of conceptual logic, and indirectly of formal logic. Intellectual development, which according to the logic of the Analytics consists of sense, memory, experience, induction and intellect, according to the psychology of the De Anima consists of sense, imagination and intellect, and one division of intellect is into conception of the undivided and combination of conceptions as one (De An. iii. 6). The De Interpretatione opens with a reference to this psychological distinction, implying that names represent conceptions, propositions represent combinations of conceptions. But the same passage relegates conceptions and their combinations to the De Anima, and confines the De Interpretatione to names and propositions in conformity with the linguistic analysis which pervades the logical treatises of Aristotle, who neither brought his psychological distinction between conceptions and their combinations into his logic, nor advanced the combinations of conceptions as a definition of judgment (κρίσις), nor employed the mental distinction between conceptions and judgments as an analysis of inference, or reasoning, or syllogism: he was no conceptual logician. The history of logic shows that the linguistic distinction between terms and propositions was the sole analysis of reasoning in the logical treatises of Aristotle; that the mental distinction between conceptions (ἔννοιαι) and judgments (ἀξιώματα in a wide sense) was imported into logic by the Stoics; and that this mental distinction became the logical analysis of reasoning under the authority of St Thomas Aquinas. In his commentary on the De Interpretatione, St Thomas, after citing from the De Anima Aristotle’s “duplex operatio intellectus,” said, “Additur autem et tertia operatio, scilicet ratiocinandi,” and concluded that, since logic is a rational science (rationalis scientia), its consideration must be directed to all these operations of reason. Hence arose conceptual logic; according to which conception is a simple apprehension of an idea without belief in being or not being, e.g. the idea of man or of running; judgment is a combination of conceptions, adding being or not being, e.g. man is running or not running; and reasoning is a combination of judgments: conversely, there is a mental analysis of reasoning into judgments, and judgment into conceptions, beneath the linguistic analysis of rational discourse into propositions, and propositions into terms. Logic, according to this new school, which has by our time become an old school, has to co-ordinate these three operations, direct them, and, beginning with conceptions, combine conceptions into judgments, and judgments into inference, which thus becomes a complex combination of conceptions, or, in modern parlance, an extension of our ideas. Conceptual logicians were, indeed, from the first aware that sense supplies the data, and that judgment and therefore inference contains belief that things are or are not. But they held, and still hold that sensation and conception are alike mere apprehensions, and that the belief that things are or are not arises somehow after sensation and conception in judgment, from which it passes into inference. At first, they were more sanguine of extracting from these unpromising beginnings some knowledge of things beyond ideas. But at length many of them became formal logicians, who held that logic is the investigation of formal thinking, or consistent conception, judgment and reasoning; that it shows how we infer formal truths of consistency without material truth of signifying things; that, as the science of the form or process, it must entirely abstract from the matter, or objects, of thought; and that it does not tell us how we infer from experience. Thus has logic drifted further and further from the real and empirical logic of Aristotle the founder and Bacon the reformer of the science.

The great merit of conceptual logic was the demand for a mental analysis of mental reasoning, and the direct analysis of reasoning into judgments which are the sole premises and conclusions of reasoning and of all mental inferences. Aristotle had fallen into the paradox of resolving a mental act into verbal elements. The Schoolmen, however, gradually came to realize that the result to their logic was to make it a sermocionalis scientia, and to their metaphysics the danger of nominalism. St Thomas made a great advance by making logic throughout a rationalis scientia; and logicians are now agreed that reasoning consists of judgments, discourse of propositions. This distinction is, moreover, vital to the whole logic of inference, because we always think all the judgments of which our inference consists, but seldom state all the propositions by which it is expressed. We omit propositions, curtail them, and even express a judgment by a single term, e.g. “Good!” “Fire!”. Hence the linguistic expression is not a true measure of inference; and to say that an inference consists of two propositions causing a third is not strictly true. But to say that it is two judgments causing a third is always true, and the very essence of inference, because we must think the two to conclude the third in “the sessions of sweet silent thought.” Inference, in short, consists of actual judgments capable of being expressed in propositions.

Inference always consists of judgments. But judgment does not always consist of conceptions. It is not a combination of conceptions; it does not arise from conceptions, nor even at first require conception. Sense is the origin of judgment. One who feels pained or pleased, who feels hot or cold or resisting in touch, who tastes the flavoured, who smells the odorous, who hears the sounding, who sees the coloured, or is conscious, already believes that something sensible exists before conception, before inference, and before language; and his belief is true of the immediate object of sense, the sensible thing, e.g. the hot felt in touch. But a belief in the existence of something is a judgment and a categorical judgment of existence. Sense, then, outer and inner, or sensation and consciousness, is the origin of sensory judgments which are true categorical beliefs in the existence of sensible things; and primary judgments are such true categorical sensory beliefs that things exist, and neither require conception nor are combinations of conceptions. Again, since sense is the origin of memory and experience, memorial and experiential judgments are categorical and existential judgments, which so far as they report sensory judgments are always true. Finally, since sense, memory and experience are the origin of inference, primary inference is categorical and existential, starting from sensory, memorial and experiential judgments as premises, and proceeding to inferential judgments as conclusions, which are categorical and existential, and are true, so far as they depend on sense, memory and experience.

Sense, then, is the origin of judgment; and the consequence is that primary judgments are true, categorical and existential judgments of sense, and primary inferences are inferences from categorical and existential premises to categorical and existential conclusions, which are true so far as they arise from outer and inner sense, and proceed to things similar to sensible things. All other judgments and inferences about existing things, or ideas, or names, whether categorical or hypothetical, are afterthoughts, partly true and partly false.

Sense, then, because it involves a true belief in existence is fitted to be the origin of judgment. Conception on the other hand is the simple apprehension of an idea, particular or universal, but without belief that anything is or is not, and therefore is unfitted to beget judgment. Nor could a combination of conceptions make a difference so fundamental as that between conceiving and believing. The most that it could do would be to cause an ideal judgment, e.g. that the idea of a centaur is the idea of a man-horse; and even here some further origin is needed for the addition of the copula “is.”

So far from being a cause, conception is not even a condition of all judgments; a sensation of hot is sufficient evidence that hot exists, before the idea of hot is either present or wanted. Conception is, however, a condition of a memorial judgment: in order to remember being hot, we require an idea of hot. Memory, however, is not that idea, but involves a judgment that there previously existed the hot now represented by the idea, which is about the sensible thing beyond the conceived idea; and the cause of this memorial judgment is past sense and present memory. So sense, memory and experience, the sum of sense and memory, though requiring conception, are the causes of the experiential judgment that there exist and have existed many similar, sensible things, and these sensory, memorial and experiential judgments about the existence of past and present sensible things beyond conceived ideas become the particular premises of primary inference. Starting from them, inference is enabled to draw conclusions which are inferential judgments about the existence of things similar to sensible things beyond conceived ideas. In rising, however, from particular to universal inference, induction, as we have seen, adds to its particular premise, S is P, a universal premise, every M is similar to S, in order to infer the universal conclusion, every M is P. This universal premise requires a universal conception of a class or whole number of similar particulars, as a condition. But the premise is not that conception; it is a belief that there is a whole number of particulars similar to those already experienced. The generalization of a class is not, as the conceptual logic assumes, the abstraction of a general idea, but an inference from the analogy of a whole individual thing, e.g. a whole man, to a whole number of similar individuals, e.g. the whole of men. The general idea of all men or the combination that the idea of all men is similar to the idea of particular men would not be enough; the universal premise that all men in fact are similar to those who have died is required to induce the universal conclusion that all men in fact die. Universal inference thus requires particular and universal conceptions as its condition; but, so far as it arises from sense, memory, experience, and involves generalization, it consists of judgments which do not consist of conceptions, but are beliefs in things existing beyond conception. Inference then, so far as it starts from categorical and existential premises, causes conclusions, or inferential judgments, which require conceptions, but are categorical and existential judgments beyond conception. Moreover, as it becomes more deductive, and causes conclusions further from sensory experience, these inferential judgments become causes of inferential conceptions. For example, from the evidence of molar changes due to the obvious parts of bodies, science first comes to believe in molecular changes due to imperceptible particles, and then tries to conceive the ideas of particles, molecules, atoms, electrons. The conceptual logic supposes that conception always precedes judgment; but the truth is that sensory judgment begins and inferential judgment ends by preceding conception. The supposed triple order—conception, judgment, reasoning—is defective and false. The real order is sensation and sensory judgment, conception, memory and memorial judgment, experience and experiential judgment, inference, inferential judgment, inferential conception. This is not all: inferential conceptions are inadequate, and finally fail. They are often symbolical; that is, we conceive one thing only by another like it, e.g. atoms by minute bodies not nearly small enough. Often the symbol is not like. What idea can the physicist form of intraspatial ether? What believer in God pretends to conceive Him as He really is? We believe many things that we cannot conceive; as Mill said, the inconceivable is not the incredible; and the point of science is not what we can conceive but what we should believe on evidence. Conception is the weakest, judgment the strongest power of man’s mind. Sense before conception is the original cause of judgment; and inference from sense enables judgment to continue after conception ceases. Finally, as there is judgment without conception, so there is conception without judgment. We often say “I understand, but do not decide.” But this suspension of judgment is a highly refined act, unfitted to the beginning of thought. Conception begins as a condition of memory, and after a long continuous process of inference ends in mere ideation. The conceptual logic has made the mistake of making ideation a stage in thought prior to judgment.

It was natural enough that the originators of conceptual logic, seeing that judgments can be expressed by propositions, and conceptions by terms, should fall into the error of supposing that, as propositions consist of terms, so judgments consist of conceptions, and that there is a triple mental order—conception, judgment, reasoning—parallel to the triple linguistic order—term, proposition, discourse. They overlooked the fact that man thinks long before he speaks, makes judgments which he does not express at all, or expresses them by interjections, names and phrases, before he uses regular propositions, and that he does not begin by conceiving and naming, and then proceed to believing and proposing. Feeling and sensation, involving believing or judging, come before conception and language. As conceptions are not always present in judgment, as they are only occasional conditions, and as they are unfitted to cause beliefs or judgments, and especially judgments of existence, and as judgments both precede conceptions in sense and continue after them in inference, it follows that conceptions are not the constituents of judgment, and judgment is not a combination of conceptions. Is there then any analysis of judgment? Paradoxical as it may sound, the truth seems to be that primary judgment, beginning as it does with the simplest feeling and sensation, is not a combination of two mental elements into one, but is a division of one sensible thing into the thing itself and its existence and the belief that it is determined as existing, e.g. that hot exists, cold exists, the pained exists, the pleased exists. Such a judgment has a cause, namely sense, but no mental elements. Afterwards come judgments of complex sense, e.g. that the existing hot is burning or becoming more or less hot, &c. Thus there is a combination of sensations causing the judgment; but the judgment is still a division of the sensible thing into itself and its being, and a belief that it is so determined. Afterwards follow judgments arising from more complex causes, e.g. memory, experience, inference. But however complicated these mental causes, there still remain these points common to all judgment:—(1) The mental causes of judgment are sense, memory, experience and inference; while conception is a condition of some judgments. (2) A judgment is not a combination either of its causes or of its conditions, e.g. it is not a combination of sensations any more than of ideas. (3) A judgment is a unitary mental act, dividing not itself but its object into the object itself and itself as determined, and signifying that it is so determined. (4) A primary judgment is a judgment that a sensible thing is determined as existing; but later judgments are concerned with either existing things, or with ideas, or with words, and signify that they are determined in all sorts of ways. (5) When a judgment is expressed by a proposition, the proposition expresses the results of the division by two terms, subject and predicate, and by the copula that what is signified by the subject is what is signified by the predicate; and the proposition is a combination of the two terms; e.g. border war is evil. (6) A complex judgment is a combination of two judgments, and may be copulative, e.g. you and I are men, or hypothetical, or disjunctive, &c.

Empirical logic, the logic of Aristotle and Bacon, is on the right way. It is the business of the logician to find the causes of the judgments which form the premises and the conclusions of inference, reasoning and science. What knowledge do we get by sense, memory and experience, the first mental causes of judgment? What is judgment, and what its various kinds? What is inference, how does it proceed by combining judgments as premises to cause judgments as conclusions, and what are its various kinds? How does inference draw conclusions more or less probable up to moral certainty? How does it by the aid of identification convert probable into necessary conclusions, which become necessary principles of demonstration? How is categorical succeeded by conditional inference? What is scientific method as a system of inferences about definite subjects? How does inference become the source of error and fallacy? How does the whole process from sense to inference discover the real truth of judgments, which are true so far as they signify things known by sense, memory, experience and inference? These are the fundamental questions of the science of inference. Conceptual logic, on the other hand, is false from the start. It is not the first business of logic to direct us how to form conceptions signified by terms, because sense is a prior cause of judgment and inference. It is not the second business of logic to direct us how out of conceptions to form judgments signified by propositions, because the real causes of judgments are sense, memory, experience and inference. It is, however, the main business of logic to direct us how out of judgments to form inferences signified by discourse; and this is the one point which conceptual logic has contributed to the science of inference. But why spoil the further mental analysis of inference by supposing that conceptions are constituents of judgment and therefore of inference, which thus becomes merely a complex combination of conceptions, an extension of ideas? The mistake has been to convert three operations of mind into three processes in a fixed order—conception, judgment, inference. Conception and judgment are decisions: inference alone is a process, from decisions to decision, from judgments to judgment. Sense, not conception, is the origin of judgment. Inference is the process which from judgments about sensible things proceeds to judgments about things similar to sensible things. Though some conceptions are its conditions and some judgments its causes, inference itself in its conclusions causes many more judgments and conceptions. Finally, inference is an extension, not of ideas, but of beliefs, at first about existing things, afterwards about ideas, and even about words; about anything in short about which we think, in what is too fancifully called “the universe of discourse.”

Formal logic has arisen out of the narrowness of conceptual logic. The science of inference no doubt has to deal primarily with formal truth or the consistency of premises and conclusion. But as all truth, real as well as formal, is consistent, formal rules of consistency become real rules of truth, when the premises are true and the consistent conclusion is therefore true. The science of inference again rightly emphasizes the formal thinking of the syllogism in which the combination of premises involves the conclusion. But the combinations of premises in analogical and inductive inference, although the combination does not involve the conclusion, yet causes us to infer it, and in so similar a way that the science of inference is not complete without investigating all the combinations which characterize different kinds of inference. The question of logic is how we infer in fact, as well as perfectly; and we cannot understand inference unless we consider inferences of probability of all kinds. Moreover, the study of analogical and inductive inference is necessary to that of the syllogism itself, because they discover the premises of syllogism. The formal thinking of syllogism alone is merely necessary consequence; but when its premises are necessary principles, its conclusions are not only necessary consequents but also necessary truths. Hence the manner in which induction aided by identification discovers necessary principles must be studied by the logician in order to decide when the syllogism can really arrive at necessary conclusions. Again, the science of inference has for its subject the form, or processes, of thought, but not its matter or objects. But it does not follow that it can investigate the former without the latter. Formal logicians say that, if they had to consider the matter, they must either consider all things, which would be impossible, or select some, which would be arbitrary. But there is an intermediate alternative, which is neither impossible nor arbitrary; namely, to consider the general distinctions and principles of all things; and without this general consideration of the matter the logician cannot know the form of thought, which consists in drawing inferences about things on these general principles. Lastly, the science of inference is not indeed the science of sensation, memory and experience, but at the same time it is the science of using those mental operations as data of inference; and, if logic does not show how analogical and inductive inferences directly, and deductive inferences indirectly, arise from experience, it becomes a science of mere thinking without knowledge.

Logic is related to all the sciences, because it considers the common inferences and varying methods used in investigating different subjects. But it is most closely related to the sciences of metaphysics and psychology, which form with it a triad of sciences. Metaphysics is the science of being in general, and therefore of the things which become objects apprehended by our minds. Psychology is the science of mind in general, and therefore of the mental operations, of which inference is one. Logic is the science of the processes of inference. These three sciences, of the objects of mind, of the operations of mind, of the processes used in the inferences of mind, are differently, but closely related, so that they are constantly confused. The real point is their interdependence, which is so intimate that one sign of great philosophy is a consistent metaphysics, psychology and logic. If the world of things is known to be partly material and partly mental, then the mind must have powers of sense and inference enabling it to know these things, and there must be processes of inference carrying us from and beyond the sensible to the insensible world of matter and mind. If the whole world of things is matter, operations and processes of mind are themselves material. If the whole world of things is mind, operations and processes of mind have only to recognize their like all the world over. It is clear then that a man’s metaphysics and psychology must colour his logic. It is accordingly necessary to the logician to know beforehand the general distinctions and principles of things in metaphysics, and the mental operations of sense, conception, memory and experience in psychology, so as to discover the processes of inference from experience about things in logic.

The interdependence of this triad of sciences has sometimes led to their confusion. Hegel, having identified being with thought, merged metaphysics in logic. But he divided logic into objective and subjective, and thus practically confessed that there is one science of the objects and another of the processes of thought. Psychologists, seeing that inference is a mental operation, often extemporize a theory of inference to the neglect of logic. But we have a double consciousness of inference. We are conscious of it as one operation among many, and of its omnipresence, so to speak, to all the rest. But we are also conscious of the processes of the operation of inference. To a certain extent this second consciousness applies to other operations: for example, we are conscious of the process of association by which various mental causes recall ideas in the imagination. But how little does the psychologist know about the association of ideas, compared with what the logician has discovered about the processes of inference! The fact is that our primary consciousness of all mental operations is hardly equal to our secondary consciousness of the processes of the one operation of inference from premises to conclusions permeating long trains and pervading whole sciences. This elaborate consciousness of inferential process is the justification of logic as a distinct science, and is the first step in its method. But it is not the whole method of logic, which also and rightly considers the mental process necessary to language, without substituting linguistic for mental distinctions.

Nor are consciousness and linguistic analysis all the instruments of the logician. Logic has to consider the things we know, the minds by which we know them from sense, memory and experience to inference, and the sciences which systematize and extend our knowledge of things; and having considered these facts, the logician must make such a science of inference as will explain the power and the poverty of human knowledge.

General Tendencies of Modern Logic

There are several grounds for hope in the logic of our day. In the first place, it tends to take up an intermediate position between the extremes of Kant and Hegel. It does not, with the former, regard logic as purely formal in the sense of abstracting thought from being, nor does it follow the latter in amalgamating metaphysics with logic by identifying being with thought. Secondly, it does not content itself with the mere formulae of thinking, but pushes forward to theories of method, knowledge and science; and it is a hopeful sign to find this epistemological spirit, to which England was accustomed by Mill, animating German logicians such as Lotze, Dühring, Schuppe, Sigwart and Wundt. Thirdly, there is a determination to reveal the psychological basis of logical processes, and not merely to describe them as they are in adult reasoning, but to explain also how they arise from simpler mental operations and primarily from sense. This attempt is connected with the psychological turn given to recent philosophy by Wundt and others, and is dangerous only so far as psychology itself is hypothetical. Unfortunately, however, these merits are usually connected with a less admirable characteristic—contempt for tradition, Writing his preface to his second edition in 1888, Sigwart says: “Important works have appeared by Lotze, Schuppe, Wundt and Bradley, to name only the most eminent; and all start from the conception which has guided this attempt. That is, logic is grounded by them, not upon an effete tradition but upon a new investigation of thought as it actually is in its psychological foundations, in its significance for knowledge, and its actual operation in scientific methods.” How strange! The spirit of every one of the three reforms above enumerated is an unconscious return to Aristotle’s Organon. Aristotle’s was a logic which steered, as Trendelenburg has shown, between Kantian formalism and Hegelian metaphysics; it was a logic which in the Analytics investigated the syllogism as a means to understanding knowledge and science: it was a logic which, starting from the psychological foundations of sense, memory and experience, built up the logical structure of induction and deduction on the profoundly Aristotelian principle that “there is no process from universals without induction, and none by induction without sense.” Wundt’s comprehensive view that logic looks backwards to psychology and forward to epistemology was hundreds of years ago one of the many discoveries of Aristotle.

Judgment

1. Judgment and Conception.—The emphasis now laid on judgment, the recovery from Hume’s confusion of beliefs with ideas and the association of ideas, and the distinction of the mental act of judging from its verbal expression in a proposition, are all healthy signs in recent logic. The most fundamental question, before proceeding to the investigation of inference, is not what we say but what we think in making the judgments which, whether we express them in propositions or not, are both the premises and the conclusion of inference; and, as this question has been diligently studied of late, but has been variously answered, it will be well to give a list of the more important theories of judgment as follows:—

a. It expresses a relation between the content of two ideas, not a relation of these ideas (Lotze).

b. It is consciousness concerning the objective validity of a subjective combination of ideas, i.e. whether between the corresponding objective elements an analogous combination exists (Ueberweg).

c. It is the synthesis of ideas into unity and consciousness of their objective validity, not in the sense of agreement with external reality but in the sense of the logical necessity of their synthesis (Sigwart).

d. It is the analysis of an aggregate idea (Gesammtvorstellung) into subject and predicate; based on a previous association of ideas, on relating and comparing, and on the apperceptive synthesis of an aggregate idea in consequence; but itself consisting in an apperceptive analysis of that aggregate idea; and requiring will in the form of apperception or attention (Wundt).

e. It requires an idea, because every object is conceived as well as recognized or denied; but it is itself an assertion of actual fact, every perception counts for a judgment, and every categorical is changeable into an existential judgment without change of sense (Brentano, who derives his theory from Mill except that he denies the necessity of a combination of ideas, and reduces a categorical to an existential judgment).

f. It is a decision of the validity of an idea requiring will (Bergmann, following Brentano).

g. Judgment (Urtheil) expresses that two ideas belong together: “by-judgment” (Beurtheilung) is the reaction of will expressing the validity or invalidity of the combination of ideas (Windelband, following Bergmann, but distinguishing the decision of validity from the judgment).

h. Judgment is consciousness of the identity or difference and of the causal relations of the given; naming the actual combinations of the data, but also requiring a priori categories of the understanding, the notions of identity, difference and causality, as principles of thought or laws, to combine the plurality of the given into a unity (Schuppe).

i. Judgment is the act which refers an ideal content recognized as such to a reality beyond the act, predicating an idea of a reality, a what of a that; so that the subject is reality and the predicate the meaning of an idea, while the judgment refers the idea to reality by an identity of content (Bradley and Bosanquet).

k. Judgment is an assertion of reality, requiring comparison and ideas which render it directly expressible in words (Hobhouse, mainly following Bradley).

These theories are of varying value in proportion to their proximity to Aristotle’s point that predication is about things, and to Mill’s point that judgments and propositions are about things, not about ideas. The essence of judgment is belief that something is (or is not) determined, either as existing (e.g. “I am,” “A centaur is not”) or as something in particular (e.g. “I am a man,” “I am not a monkey”). Neither Mill, however, nor any of the later logicians whose theories we have quoted, has been able quite to detach judgment from conception; they all suppose that an idea, or ideas, is a condition of all judgment. But judgment starts from sensation (Empfindung) and feeling (Gefühl), and not from idea (Vorstellung). When I feel pleased or pained, or when I use my senses to perceive a pressure, a temperature, a flavour, an odour, a colour, a sound, or when I am conscious of feeling and perceiving, I cannot resist the belief that something sensible is present; and this belief that something exists is already a judgment, a judgment of existence, and, so far as it is limited to sense without inference, a true judgment. It is a matter of words whether or not we should call this sensory belief a judgment; but it is no matter of choice to the logician, who regards all the constituents of inference as judgments; for the fundamental constituents are sensory beliefs, which are therefore judgments in the logical sense. Sense is the evidence of inference; directly of analogical and inductive, directly or indirectly of deductive, inference; and therefore, if logic refuses to include sensory beliefs among judgments, it will omit the fundamental constituents of inference, inference will no longer consist of judgments but of sensory beliefs plus judgments, and the second part of logic, the logic of judgment, the purpose of which is to investigate the constituents of inference, will be like Hamlet without the prince of Denmark. If, on the other hand, all the constituents of inference are judgments, there are judgments of sense; and the evidence of the senses means that a judgment of sense is true, while a judgment of inference is true so far as it is directly or indirectly concluded from judgments of sense. Now a sensory judgment, e.g. that a sensible pressure is existing, is explained by none of the foregoing theories, because it requires nothing but sensation and belief. It requires no will, but is usually involuntary, for the stimulus forces one’s attention, which is not always voluntary; not all judgment then requires will, as Wundt supposes. It requires no reference to reality beyond the sensible pressure, because it is merely a belief that this exists without inference of the external stimulus or any inference at all: not all judgment then requires the reference of subjective to objective supposed by Ueberweg, or the consciousness of logical necessity supposed by Sigwart. It requires in addition to the belief that something exists, no consideration as to whether the belief itself be true, because a man who feels pressure believes in the thing without further question about the belief: not all judgment then requires a decision of validity, as Bergmann supposes. It requires nothing beyond the sensation and belief in the given existence of the given pressure: not all judgment then requires categories of understanding, or notions of identity, difference and causality, or even of existence, such as Schuppe supposes. It requires no comparison in order to express it in words, for a judgment need not be expressed, and a sensory judgment of pressure is an irresistible belief that a real pressure exists, without waiting for words, or for a comparison which is wanted not to make a sensation a judgment, but to turn a judgment into language: not all judgment then requires comparison with a view to its expression, as supposed by Hobhouse. Lastly, all the authors of the above-quoted theories err in supposing that all judgment requires conception; for even Mill thinks a combination of ideas necessary, and Brentano, who comes still nearer to the nature of sensory judgment when he says, “Every perception counts for a judgment,” yet thinks that an idea is necessary at the same time in order to understand the thing judged. In reality, the sensation and the belief are sufficient; when I feel a sensible pressure, I cannot help believing in its reality, and therefore judging that it is real, without any tertium quid—an idea of pressure, or of existence or of pressure existing—intervening between the sensation and the belief. Only after sensation has ceased does an idea, or representation of what is not presented, become necessary as a substitute for a sensation and as a condition not of the first judgment that there is, but of a second judgment that there was, something sensible. Otherwise there would be no judgment of sensible fact, for the first sensation would not give it, and the idea following the sensation would be still farther off. The sensory judgment then, which is nothing but a belief that at the moment of sense something sensible exists, is a proof that not all judgment requires conception, or synthesis or analysis of ideas, or decision about the content, or about the validity, of ideas, or reference of an ideal content to reality, as commonly, though variously, supposed in the logic of our day.

Not, however, that all judgment is sensory: after the first judgments of sense follow judgments of memory, and memory requires ideas. Yet memory is not mere conception, as Aristotle, and Mill after him, have perceived. To remember, we must have a present idea; but we must also have a belief that the thing, of which the idea is a representation, was (or was not) determined; and this belief is the memorial judgment. Originally such judgments arise from sensory judgments followed by ideas, and are judgments of memory after sense that something sensible existed, e.g. pressure existed: afterwards come judgments of memory after inference, e.g. Caesar was murdered. Finally, most judgments are inferential. These are conclusions which primarily are inferred from sensory and memorial judgments; and so far as inference starts from sense of something sensible in the present, and from memory after sense of something sensible in the past, and concludes similar things, inferential judgments are indirect beliefs in being and in existence beyond ideas. When from the sensible pressures between the parts of my mouth, which I feel and remember and judge that they exist and have existed, I infer another similar pressure (e.g. of the food which presses and is pressed by my mouth in eating), the inferential judgment with which I conclude is a belief that the latter exists as well as the former (e.g. the pressure of food without as well as the sensible pressures within). Inference, no doubt, is closely involved with conception. So far as it depends on memory, an inferential judgment presupposes memorial ideas in its data; and so far as it infers universal classes and laws, it produces general ideas. But even so the part played by conception is quite subordinate to that of belief. In the first place, the remembered datum, from which an inference of pressure starts, is not the conceived idea, but the belief that the sensible pressure existed. Secondly, the conclusion in which it ends is not the general idea of a class, but the belief that a class, represented by a general idea, exists, and is (or is not) otherwise determined (e.g. that things pressing and pressed exist and move). Two things are certain about inferential judgment: one, that when inference is based on sense and memory, inferential judgment starts from a combination of sensory and memorial judgment, both of which are beliefs that things exist; the other, that in consequence inferential judgment is a belief that similar things exist. There are thus three primary judgments: judgments of sense, of memory after sense, and of inference from sense. All these are beliefs in being and existence, and this existential belief is first in sense, and afterwards transferred to memory and inference. Moreover, it is transferred in the same irresistible way: frequently we cannot help either feeling pressure, or remembering it, or inferring it; and as there are involuntary sensation and attention, so there are involuntary memory and inference. Again, in a primary judgment existence need not be expressed; but if expressed, it may be expressed either by the predicate, e.g. “I exist,” or by the subject, e.g. “I who exist think.” There are indeed differences between primary judgments, in that the sensory is a belief in present, the memorial in past, and the inferential in present, past and future existence. But these differences in detail do not alter the main point that all these are beliefs in the existing, in the real as opposed to the ideal, in actual things which are not ideas. In short, a primary judgment is a belief in something existing apart from our idea of it; and not because we have an idea of it, or by comparing an idea with, or referring an idea to, reality; but because we have a sensation of it, or a memory of it or an inference of it. Sensation, not conception, is the origin of judgment.

2. Different Significations of Being in different Kinds of Judgment.—As Aristotle remarked both in the De Interpretatione and in the Sophistici Elenchi, “not-being is thinkable” does not mean “not-being exists.” In the latter treatise he added that it is a fallacia a dicto secundum quid ad dictum simpliciter to argue from the former to the latter; “for,” as he says, “it is not the same thing to be something and to exist absolutely.” Without realizing their debt to tradition, Herbart, Mill and recently Sigwart, have repeated Aristotle’s separation of the copula from the verb of existence, as if it were a modern discovery that “is” is not the same as “exists.” It may be added that they do not quite realize what the copula exactly signifies: it does not signify existence, but it does signify a fact, namely, that something is (or is not) determined, either absolutely in a categorical judgment, or conditionally in a conditional judgment. Now we have seen that all primary judgments signify more than this fact; they are also beliefs in the existence of the thing signified by the subject. But, in the first place, primary judgments signify this existence never by the copula, but sometimes by the predicate, and sometimes by the subject; and, secondly, it does not follow that all judgments whatever signify existence. Besides inference of existence there is inference of non-existence, of things inconsistent with the objects of primary judgments. Hence secondary judgments, which no longer contain a belief that the thing exists, e.g. the judgment, “not-being is thinkable,” cited by Aristotle; the judgment, “A square circle is impossible,” cited by Herbart; the judgment, “A centaur is a fiction of the poets,” cited by Mill. These secondary judgments of non-existence are partly like and partly unlike primary judgments of existence. They resemble them in that they are beliefs in being signified by the copula. They are beliefs in things of a sort; for, after all, ideas and names are things; their objects, even though non-existent, are at all events things conceivable or nameable; and therefore we are able to make judgments that things, non-existent but conceivable or nameable, are (or are not) determined in a particular manner. Thus the judgment about a centaur is the belief, “A conceivable centaur is a fiction of the poets,” and the judgment about a square circle is the belief, “A so-called square circle is an impossibility.” But, though beliefs that things of some sort are (or are not) determined, these secondary judgments fall short of primary judgments of existence. Whereas in a primary judgment there is a further belief, signified by subject or predicate, that the thing is an existing thing in the sense of being a real thing (e.g. a man), different from the idea of it as well as from the name for it; in a secondary judgment there is no further belief that the thing has any existence beyond the idea (e.g. a centaur), or even beyond the name (e.g. a square circle): though the idea or name exists, there is no belief that anything represented by idea or name exists. Starting, then, from this fundamental distinction between judgments of existence and judgments of non-existence, we may hope to steer our way between two extreme views which emanate from two important thinkers, each of whom has produced a flourishing school of psychological logic.

On the one hand, early in the 19th century Herbart started the view that a categorical judgment is never a judgment of existence, but always hypothetical; on the other hand, in the latter part of the century Brentano started the view that all categorical judgments are existential. The truth lies between these contraries. The view of Herbart and his school is contradicted by our primary judgments of and from sense, in which we cannot help believing existence; and it gives an inadequate account even of our secondary judgments in which we no longer indeed believe existence, but do frequently believe that a non-existent thing is (or is not) somehow determined unconditionally. It is true, as Herbart says, that the judgment, “A square circle is an impossibility,” does not contain the belief, “A square circle is existent”; but when he goes on to argue that it means, “If a square circle is thought, the conception of impossibility must be added in thought,” he falls into a non-sequitur. To be categorical, a judgment does not require a belief in existence, but only that something, existent or not, is (or is not) determined; and there are two quite different attitudes of mind even to a non-existent thing, such as a square circle, namely, unconditional and conditional belief. The judgment, “A non-existent but so-called square circle is an impossibility,” is an unconditional, or categorical judgment of non-existence, quite different from any hypothetical judgment, which depends on the conditions “if it is thought,” or “if it exists,” or any other “if.” On the other hand, the view of Brentano and his school is contradicted by these very categorical judgments of non-existence; and while it applies only to categorical judgments of existence, it does so inadequately. To begin with the latter objection, Brentano proposed to change the four Aristotelian forms of judgment, A, E, I, O, into the following existential forms:—

A. “There is not an immortal man.”

E. “There is not a live stone.”

I. “There is a sick man.”

O. “There is an unlearned man.”

This reconstruction, which merges subject and predicate in one expression, in order to combine it with the verb of existence, is repeated in similar proposals of recent English logicians. Venn, in his Symbolic Logic, proposes the four forms, xy = 0, xy = 0, xy > 0, xy > 0 (where y means “not-y”), but only as alternative to the ordinary forms. Bradley says that “‘S-P is real’ attributes S-P, directly or indirectly, to the ultimate reality,” and agrees with Brentano that “’is’ never stands for anything but ‘exists’”; while Bosanquet, who follows Bradley, goes so far as to define a categorical judgment as “that which affirms the existence of its subject, or, in other words, asserts a fact.” Now it is true that our primary judgments do contain a belief in existence; but they do not all contain it in the same way, but are beliefs sometimes that something is determined as existing, and sometimes that something existing is particularly determined. Brentano’s forms do not express such a judgment of existence, as “All existing men are mortal”: nor does Bradley’s form, “Reality includes S-P.” Metaphysically, all realities are parts of one ultimate reality; but logically, even philosophers think more often only of finite realities, existing men, dogs, horses, &c.; and children know that their parents exist long before they apprehend ultimate reality. The normal form, then, of a judgment of existence is either “S is a real P,” or “A real S is P.” Hence the reconstruction of all categorical judgments by merging subject and predicate, either on Brentano’s or on Bradley’s plan, is a misrepresentation even of normal categorical judgments of existence. Secondly, it is much more a misrepresentation of categorical judgments of non-existence. No existential form suits a judgment such as “A centaur is a fiction,” when we do not believe that there is a centaur, or that reality includes a centaur. As Mill pointed out, it cannot be implied that a centaur exists, since the very thing asserted is that the thing has no real existence. In a correspondence with Mill, Brentano rejoined that the centaur exists in imagination; Bradley says, “inside our heads.” According to one, then, the judgment becomes “There is an imaginary centaur”; according to the other “Reality includes an imaginary centaur.” The rejoinder, however, though partly true, is not to the point. The idea of the centaur does exist in our imagination, and inside our heads, and the name of it in our mouths. But the point is that the centaur conceived and named does not exist beyond the idea of it and the name for it; it is not, like a man, a real thing which is neither the idea of it nor the name for it. No amount of subtlety will remove the difference between a categorical judgment of existence, e.g. “An existing man is mortal,” and a categorical judgment of non-existence, e.g. “A conceivable centaur is a fiction,” because in the former we believe and mean that the thing exists beyond the idea, and in the latter we do not. If, contrary to usage, we choose to call the latter a judgment of existence, there is no use in quarrelling about words; but we must insist that new terms must in that case be invented to express so fundamental a difference as that between judgments about real men and judgments about ideal centaurs. So long, however, as we use words in the natural sense, and call the former judgments of existence, and the latter judgments of non-existence, then “is” will not be, as Bradley supposes, the same as “exists,” for we use “is” in both judgments, but “exists” only in the first kind. Bosanquet’s definition of a categorical judgment contains a similar confusion. To assert a fact and to affirm the existence of a subject are not, as he makes out, the same thing: a judgment often asserts a fact and denies existence in the same breath, e.g. “Jupiter is non-existent.” Here, as usual in logic, tradition is better than innovation. All categorical judgment is an unconditional belief in the fact, signified by the copula, that a thing of some sort is (or is not) determined; but some categorical judgments are also beliefs that the thing is an existing thing, signified either by the subject or by the predicate, while others are not beliefs that the thing exists at all, but are only beliefs in something conceivable, or nameable, or in something or other, without particularizing what. Judgment then always signifies being, but not always existence.

3. Particular and Universal Judgments.—Aristotle, by distinguishing affirmative and negative, particular and universal, made the fourfold classification of judgments, A, E, I and O, the foundation both of opposition and of inference. With regard to inference, he remarked that a universal judgment means by “all,” not every individual we know, but every individual absolutely, so that, when it becomes a major premise, we know therein every individual universally, not individually, and often do not know a given individual individually until we add a minor premise in a syllogism. Whereas, then, a particular judgment is a belief that some, a universal judgment is a belief that all, the individuals of a kind or total of similar individuals, are similarly determined, whether they are known or unknown individuals. Now, as we have already seen, what is signified by the subject may be existing or not, and in either case a judgment remains categorical so long as it is a belief without conditions. Thus, “Some existing men are poets,” “All existing men are mortal,” “Some conceivable centaurs are human in their forequarters,” “All conceivable centaurs are equine in their hindquarters,” are all categorical judgments, while the two first are also categorical judgments of existence. Nevertheless these obvious applications of Aristotelian traditions have been recently challenged, especially by Sigwart, who holds in his Logic (secs. 27, 36) that, while a particular is a categorical judgment of existence, a universal is hypothetical, on the ground that it does not refer to a definite number of individuals, or to individuals at all, but rather to general ideas, and that the appropriate form of “all M is P” is “if anything is M it is P.” This view, which has influenced not only German but also English logicians, such as Venn, Bradley and Bosanquet, destroys the fabric of inference, and reduces scientific laws to mere hypotheses. In reality, however, particular and universal judgments are too closely connected to have such different imports. In opposition, a categorical particular is the contradictory of a universal, which is also categorical, not hypothetical, e.g., “not all M is P” is the contradictory of “all M is P,” not of “if anything is M it is P.” In inference, a particular is an example of a universal which in its turn may become a particular example of a higher universal. For instance, in the history of mechanics it was first inferred from some that all terrestrial bodies gravitate, and then from these as some that all ponderable bodies, terrestrial and celestial, gravitate. How absurd to suppose that here we pass from a particular categorical to a universal hypothetical, and then treat this very conclusion as a particular categorical to pass to a higher universal hypothetical! Sigwart, indeed, is deceived both about particulars and universals. On the one hand, some particulars are not judgments of existence, e.g. “some imaginary deities are goddesses”; on the other hand, some universals are not judgments of non-existence, e.g. “every existing man is mortal.” Neither kind is always a judgment of existence, but each is sometimes the one and sometimes the other. In no case is a universal hypothetical, unless we think it under a condition; for in a universal judgment about the non-existing, e.g. about all conceivable centaurs, we do not think, “If anything is a centaur,” because we do not believe that there are any; and in a universal judgment about the existent, e.g. about all existing men, we do not think, “If anything is a man,” because we believe that there is a whole class of men existing at different times and places. The cause of Sigwart’s error is his misconception of “all.” So far as he follows Aristotle in saying that “all” does not mean a definite number of individuals he is right; but when he says that we mean no individuals at all he deserts Aristotle and goes wrong. By “all” we mean every individual whatever of a kind; and when from the experience of sense and memory we start with particular judgments of existence, and infer universal judgments of existence and scientific laws, we further mean those existing individuals which we have experienced, and every individual whatever of the kind which exists. We mean neither a definite number of individuals, nor yet an infinite number, but an incalculable number, whether experienced or inferred to exist. We do not mean existing here and now, nor yet out of time and place, but at any time and place (semper et ubique)—past, present and future being treated as simply existing, by what logicians used to call suppositio naturalis. We mean then by “all existing” every similar individual whatever, whenever, and wherever existing. Hence Sigwart is right in saying that “All bodies are extended” means “Whatever is a body is extended,” but wrong in identifying this form with “If anything is a body it is extended.” “Whatever” is not “if anything.” For the same reason it is erroneous to confuse “all existing” with a general idea. Nor does the use of abstract ideas and terms make any difference. When Bosanquet says that in “Heat is a mode of motion” there is no reference to individual objects, but “a pure hypothetical form which absolutely neglects the existence of objects,” he falls far short of expressing the nature of this scientific judgment, for in his Theory of Heat Clerk Maxwell describes it as “believing heat as it exists in a hot body to be in the form of kinetic energy.” As Bacon would say, it is a belief that all individual bodies qua hot are individually but similarly moving in their particles. When, again, Bradley and Bosanquet speak of the universal as if it always meant one ideal content referred to reality, they forget that in universal judgments of existence, such as “All men existing are mortal,” we believe that every individually existing man dies his own death individually, though similarly to other men; and that we are thinking neither of ideas nor of reality; but of all existent individual men being individually but similarly determined. A universal is indeed one whole; but it is one whole of many similars, which are not the same with one another. This is indeed the very essence of distribution, that a universal is predicable, not singly or collectively, but severally and similarly of each and every individual of a kind, or total of similar individuals. So also the essence of a universal judgment is that every individual of the kind is severally but similarly determined. Finally, a universal judgment is often existential; but whether it is so or not it remains categorical, so long as it introduces no hypothetical antecedent about the existence of the thing signified by the subject. It is true that even in universal judgments of existence there is often a hypothetical element; for example, “All men are mortal” contains a doubt whether every man whatever, whenever and wherever existing, must die. But this is only a doubt whether all the things signified by the subject are similarly determined as signified by the predicate, and not a doubt whether there are such things at all. Hence the hypothetical element is not a hypothetical antecedent “If anything is a man,” but an uncertain conclusion that “All existing men are mortal.” In other words, a categorical universal is often problematic, but a problematic is not the same as a hypothetical judgment.

4. The Judgment and the Proposition.—Judgment in general is the mental act of believing that something is (or is not) determined. A proposition is the consequent verbal expression of such a belief, and consists in asserting that the thing as signified by the subject is (or is not) determined as signified by the predicate. But the expression is not necessary. Sensation irresistibly produces a judgment of existence without needing language. Children think long before they speak; and indeed, as mere vocal sounds are not speech, and as the apprehension that a word signifies a thing is a judgment, judgment is originally not an effect, but a cause of significant language. At any rate, even when we have learnt to speak, we do not express all we think, as we may see not only from the fewness of words known to a child, but also from our own adult consciousness. The principle of thought is to judge enough to conclude. The principle of language is to speak only so far as to understand and be understood. Hence speech is only a curtailed expression of thought. Sometimes we express a whole judgment by one word, e.g. “Fire!” or by a phrase, e.g. “What a fire!” and only usually by a proposition. But even the normal proposition in the syllogistic form tertii adjacentis, with subject, predicate and copula, is seldom a complete expression of the judgment. The consequence is that the proposition, being different from a judgment arising after a judgment, and remaining an imperfect copy of judgment, is only a superficial evidence of its real nature. Fortunately, we have more profound evidences, and at least three evidences in all: the linguistic expression of belief in the proposition; the consciousness of what we mentally believe; and the analysis of reasoning, which shows what we must believe, and have believed, as data for inference. In these ways we find that a judgment is both different from, and more than, a proposition. But recent logicians, although they perceive the difference, nevertheless tend to make the proposition the measure of the judgment. This makes them omit sensory judgments, and count only those which require ideas, and even general ideas expressed in general terms. Sigwart, for example, gives as instances of our most elementary judgments, “This is Socrates,” “This is snow”—beliefs in things existing beyond ourselves which require considerable inferences from many previous judgments of sense and memory. Worse still, logicians seem unable to keep the judgment apart from the proposition. Herbart says that the judgment “A is B” does not contain the usually added thought that A is, because there is no statement of A’s existence; as if the statement mattered to the thought. So Sigwart, in order to reduce universals to hypotheticals, while admitting that existence is usually thought, argues that it is not stated in the universal judgment; so also Bosanquet. But in the judgment the point is not what we state, but what we think; and so long as the existence of A is added in thought, the judgment in question must contain the thought that A exists as well as that A is B, and therefore is a judgment that something is determined both as existing and in a particular manner. The statement only affects the proposition; and whenever we believe the existence of the thing, the belief in existence is part of the judgment thought, whether it is part of the proposition stated or not.

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

Inference

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

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

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

∴ There is not a non-mortal professor.

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

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

∴ If anything is a professor it is mortal.

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

There is not a not-good professor.

There is not a not-wise professor.

There is a wise good (non-sequitur).

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

If anything is a professor, it is good.

If anything is a professor, it is wise.

Something wise is good (non-sequitur).

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

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

∴ If anything is a planet it is extended.

Sigwart, indeed, has missed the essential difference between the categorical and the hypothetical construction of syllogisms. In a categorical syllogism of the first figure, the major premise, “Every M whatever is P,” is a universal, which we believe on account of previous evidence without any condition about the thing signified by the subject M, which we simply believe sometimes to be existent (e.g. “Every man existent”), and sometimes not (e.g., “Every centaur conceivable”); and the minor premise, “S is M,” establishes no part of the major, but adds the evidence of a particular not thought of in the major at all. But in a hypothetical syllogism of the ordinary mixed type, the first or hypothetical premise is a conditional belief, e.g. “If anything is M it is P,” containing a hypothetical antecedent, “If anything is M,” which is sometimes a hypothesis of existence (e.g. “If anything is an angel”), and sometimes a hypothesis of fact (e.g. “If an existing man is wise”); and the second premise or assumption, “Something is M,” establishes part of the first, namely, the hypothetical antecedent, whether as regards existence (e.g. “Something is an angel”), or as regards fact (e.g. “This existing man is wise”). These very different relations of premises are obliterated by Sigwart’s false reduction of categorical universals to hypotheticals. But even Sigwart’s errors are outdone by Lotze, who not only reduces “Every M is P” so “If S is M, S is P,” but proceeds to reduce this hypothetical to the disjunctive, “If S is M, S is P1 or P2 or P3,” and finds fault with the Aristotelian syllogism because it contents itself with inferring “S is P” without showing what P. Now there are occasions when we want to reason in this disjunctive manner, to consider whether S is P1 or P2 or P3, and to conclude that “S is a particular P”; but ordinarily all we want to know is that “S is P”; e.g. in arithmetic, that 2 + 2 are 4, not any particular 4, and in life that all our contemporaries must die, without enumerating all their particular sorts of deaths. Lotze’s mistake is the same as that of Hamilton about the quantification of the predicate, and that of those symbolists who held that reasoning ought always to exhaust all alternatives by equations. It is the mistake of exaggerating exceptional into normal forms of thought, and ignoring the principle that a rational being thinks only to the point.

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

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

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

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

(1) (2) (3)

No M is P. No M is P. No P is M.

S is not P. S is not M. S is not M.

∴ Neither S nor M is P. ∴ S may be P. ∴ S may be P.

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

(1) (2)

Some M is P. Some M is P.

Some S is M. Some M is S.

∴ Some S may be P. ∴ Some S may be P.

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

(1) 1st Fig. (2) 2nd Fig.

All M is P. P is M.

No S is M. S is M.

∴ S may be P. ∴ S is partially identical with P.

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

Gold is a shining, fusible, ductile, simple body.

Metals are shining, fusible, ductile, simple bodies.

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

Gold, silver, copper, lead, are fusible.

Gold, silver, copper, lead, are metals.

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

S is M.

Q is M.

R is M.

∴ Every Σ, which is common to S, Q, R, is M.

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

(1) 1st Fig. (2) 2nd Fig. (3) 3rd Fig.

Only M is P. x = y. y = x.

No S is M. z = y. y = z.

∴ No S is P. ∴ x = z. ∴ x = z.

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

The interposition of an opaque body is (essentially) deprivation of light.

The moon suffers the interposition of the opaque earth.

∴ The moon suffers deprivation of light.

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

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

1. Progression. 2. Regression.

(1) (2)

All M is P. All P is M. All S is P.

All S is M. All S is P. All M is S.

∴ All S is P. ∴ All S is M. ∴ All M is P.

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

1. Progression. 2. Regression.

What is spherical waxes. What waxes is spherical.

The moon is spherical. The moon waxes.

∴ The moon waxes. ∴ The moon is spherical.

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

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

A, B, C magnets (S) attract iron (P).

A, B, C magnets (S) are all magnets whatever (M).

∴ All magnets whatever (M) attract iron (P).

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

Every S is P. Every S is P.

Every S is M (convertibly). Every M is S.

∴ Every M is P. ∴ Every M is P.

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

(1) (2)

S is P. Every M is P.

S is M. S is M.

∴ M and P are connected. ∴ S is P.

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

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

Every experienced magnet attracts iron.

Every magnet whatever is every experienced magnet.

∴ Every magnet whatever attracts iron.

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

Such and such spectra are effects of various gases.

Solar spectra are such spectra.

∴ Solar spectra are effects of those gases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Authorities.—J. Bergmann, Reine Logik (Berlin, 1879); Die Grundprobleme der Logik (2nd ed., Berlin, 1895); B. Bosanquet, Logic (Oxford, 1888); The Essentials of Logic (London, 1895); F. H. Bradley, The Principles of Logic (London, 1883); F. Brentano, Psychologie vom empirischen Standpunkte (Vienna, 1874); R. F. Clarke, Logic (London, 1889); W. L. Davidson, The Logic of Definition (London, 1885); E. Dühring, Logik und Wissenschaftstheorie (Leipzig, 1878); B. Erdmann, Logik (Halle, 1892); T. Fowler, Bacon’s Novum Organum, edited, with introduction, notes, &c. (2nd ed., Oxford, 1889); T. H. Green, Lectures on Logic, in Works, vol. iii. (London, 1886); J. G. Hibben, Inductive Logic (Edinburgh and London, 1896); F. Hillebrand, Die neuen Theorien der kategorischen Schlüsse (Vienna, 1891); L. T. Hobhouse, The Theory of Knowledge (London, 1896); H. Hughes, The Theory of Inference (London, 1894); E. Husserl, Logische Untersuchungen (Halle, 1891, 1901); W. Jerusalem, Die Urtheilsfunction (Vienna and Leipzig, 1895); W. Stanley Jevons, The Principles of Science (3rd ed., London, 1879); Studies in Deductive Logic (London, 1880); H. W. B. Joseph, Introduction to Logic (1906); E. E. Constance Jones, Elements of Logic (Edinburgh, 1890); G. H. Joyce, Principles of Logic (1908); J. N. Keynes, Studies and Exercises in Formal Logic (2nd ed., London, 1887); F. A. Lange, Logische Studien (2nd ed., Leipzig, 1894); T. Lipps, Grundzüge der Logik (Hamburg and Leipzig, 1893); R. H. Lotze, Logik (2nd ed., Leipzig, 1881, English translation edited by B. Bosanquet, Oxford, 1884); Grundzüge der Logik (Diktate) (3rd ed., Leipzig, 1891, English translation by G. T. Ladd, Boston, 1887); Werner Luthe, Beiträge zur Logik (Berlin, 1872, 1877); Members of Johns Hopkins University, Studies in Logic (edited by C. S. Peirce, Boston, 1883); J. B. Meyer, Ueberweg’s System der Logik, fünfte vermehrte Auflage (Bonn, 1882); Max Müller, Science of Thought (London, 1887); Carveth Read, On the Theory of Logic (London, 1878); Logic, Deductive and Inductive (2nd ed., London, 1901); E. Schröder, Vorlesungen über die Algebra der Logik (Leipzig, 1890, 1891, 1895); W. Schuppe, Erkenntnistheoretische Logik (Bonn, 1878); Grundriss der Erkenntnistheorie und Logik (Berlin, 1894); R. Shute, A Discourse on Truth (London, 1877); Alfred Sidgwick, Fallacies (London, 1883); The Use of Words in Reasoning (London, 1901); C. Sigwart, Logik (2nd ed., Freiburg-i.-Br. and Leipzig, 1889-1893, English translation by Helen Dendy, London, 1895); K. Uphues, Grundlehren der Logik (Breslau, 1883); J. Veitch, Institutes of Logic (Edinburgh and London, 1885); J. Venn, Symbolic Logic (2nd ed., London, 1894); The Principles of Empirical or Inductive Logic (London, 1889); J. Volkelt, Erfahren und Denken (Hamburg and Leipzig, 1886); T. Welton, A Manual of Logic (London, 1891, 1896); W. Windelband, Präludien (Freiburg-i.-Br., 1884); W. Wundt, Logik (2nd ed., Stuttgart, 1893-1895). Text-books are not comprised in this list.

(T. Ca.)

II. History

Logic cannot dispense with the light afforded by its history so long as counter-solutions of the same fundamental problems continue to hold the field. A critical review of some of the chief types of logical theory, with a view to determine development, needs no further justification.

Logic arose, at least for the Western world, in the golden age of Greek speculation which culminated in Plato and Aristotle. There is an Indian logic, it is true, but its priority is more than disputable. In any case no influence upon Greek thought can be shown. The movement which ends in the logic of Aristotle is demonstrably self-contained. When we have shaken ourselves free of the prejudice that all stars are first seen in the East, Oriental attempts at analysis of the structure of thought may be treated as negligible.

It is with Aristotle that the bookish tradition begins to dominate the evolution of logic. The technical perfection of the analysis which he offers is, granted the circle of presuppositions within which it works, so decisive, that what precedes, even Plato’s logic, is not unnaturally regarded as merely preliminary and subsidiary to it. What follows is inevitably, whether directly or indirectly, by sympathy or by antagonism, affected by the Aristotelian tradition.

A. Greek Logic

i. Before Aristotle

Logic needs as its presuppositions that thought should distinguish itself from things and from sense, that the problem of validity should be seen to be raised in the field of thought itself, and that analysis of the structure of thought should be recognized as the one way of solution. Thought is somewhat late in coming to self-consciousness. Implied in every contrast of principle and fact, of rule and application, involved as we see after the event, most decisively when we react correctly upon a world incorrectly perceived, thought is yet not reflected on in the common experience. Its so-called natural logic is only the potentiality of logic. The same thing is true of the first stage of Greek philosophy. In seeking for a single material principle underlying the multiplicity of phenomena, the first nature-philosophers, Thales and the rest, did indeed raise the problem of the one and the many, the endeavour to answer which must at last lead to logic. But it is only from a point of view won by later speculation that it can be said that they sought to determine the predicates of the single subject-reality, or to establish the permanent subject of varied and varying predicates. The direction of their inquiry is persistently outward. They hope to explain the opposed appearance and reality wholly within the world of things, and irrespective of the thought that thinks things. Their universal is still a material one. The level of thought on which they move is still clearly pre-logical. It is an advance on this when Heraclitus opposes to the eyes and ears which are bad witnesses “for such as understand not their language” a common something which we would do well to follow; or again when in the incommensurability of the diagonal and side of a square the Pythagoreans stumbled upon what was clearly neither thing nor image of sense, but yet was endowed with meaning, and henceforth were increasingly at home with symbol and formula. So far, however, it might well be that thought, contradistinguished from sense with its illusions, was itself infallible. A further step, then, was necessary, and it was taken at any rate by the Eleatics, when they opposed their thought to the thought of others, as the way of truth in contrast to the way of opinion. If Eleatic thought stands over against Pythagorean thought as what is valid or grounded against what is ungrounded or invalid, we are embarked upon dialectic, or the debate in which thought is countered by thought. Claims to a favourable verdict must now be substantiated in this field and in this field alone. It was Zeno, the controversialist of the Eleatic school, who was regarded in after times as the “discoverer” of dialectic.

Zeno’s amazing skill in argumentation and his paradoxical conclusions, particular and general, inaugurate a new era. “The philosophical mind,” says waiter Pater, “will perhaps never be quite in health, quite sane or natural again.” The give and take of thought had by a swift transformation of values come by something more than its own. Zeno’s paradoxes, notably, for example, the puzzle of Achilles and the Tortoise, are still capable of amusing the modern world. In his own age they found him imitators. And there follows the sophistic movement.

The sophists have other claims to consideration than their service to the development of logic. In the history of the origins of logic the sophistic age is simply the age of the free play of thought in which men were aware that in a sense anything can be debated and not yet aware of the sense in which all things cannot be so. It is the age of discussion used as a universal solvent, before it has been brought to book by a deliberate unfolding of the principles of the structure of thought determining and limiting the movement of thought itself. The sophists furthered the transition from dialectic to logic in two ways. In the first place they made it possible. Incessant questioning leads to answers. Hair-splitting, even when mischievous in intent, leads to distinctions of value. Paradoxical insistence on the accidents of speech-forms and thought-forms leads in the end to perception of the essentials. Secondly they made it necessary. The spirit of debate run riot evokes a counter-spirit to order and control it. The result is a self-limiting dialectic. This higher dialectic is a logic. It is no accident that the first of the philosophical sophists, Gorgias, on the one hand, is Eleatic in his affinities, and on the other raises in the characteristic formula of his intellectual nihilism issues which are as much logical and epistemological as ontological. The meaning of the copula and the relation of thoughts to the objects of which they are the thoughts are as much involved as the nature of being. It is equally no accident that the name of Protagoras is to be connected, in Plato’s view at least, with the rival school of Heracliteans. The problems raised by the relativism of Protagoras are no less fundamentally problems of the nature of knowledge and of the structure of thought. The Theaetetus indeed, in which Plato essays to deal with them, is in the broad sense of the word logical, the first distinctively logical treatise that has come down to us. Other sophists, of course, with more practical interests, or of humbler attainments, were content to move on a lower plane of philosophical speculation. As presented to us, for example, in Plato’s surely not altogether hostile caricature in the Euthydemus, they mark the intellectual preparation for, and the moral need for, the advance of the next generation.

Among the pioneers of the sophistic age Socrates stands apart. He has no other instrument than the dialectic of his compeers, and he is as far off as the rest from a criticism of the instrument, but he uses it differently and with a difference of aim. He construes the give and take of the debate-game with extreme rigour. The rhetorical element must be exorcised. The set harangue of teacher to pupil, in which steps in argument are slurred and the semblance of co-inquiry is rendered nugatory, must be eliminated. The interlocutors must in truth render an account under the stimulus of organized heckling from their equals or superiors in debating ability. And the aim is heuristic, though often enough the search ends in no overt positive conclusion. Something can be found and something is found. Common names are fitted for use by the would-be users being first delivered from abortive conceptions, and thereupon enabled to bring to the birth living and organic notions.

Aristotle would assign to Socrates the elaboration of two logical functions:—general definition and inductive method. Rightly, if we add that he gives no theory of either, and that his practical use of the latter depends for its value on selection. It is rather in virtue of his general faith in the possibility of construction, which he still does not undertake, and because of his consequent insistence on the elucidation of general concepts, which in common with some of his contemporaries, he may have thought of as endued with a certain objectivity, that he induces the controversies of what are called the Socratic schools as to the nature of predication. These result in the formulation of a new dialectic or logic by Plato. Manifestly Socrates’ use of certain forms of argumentation, like their abuse by the sophists, tended to evoke their logical analysis. The use and abuse, confronted one with the other, could not but evoke it.

The one in the many, the formula which lies at the base of the possibility of predication, is involved in the Socratic doctrine of general concepts or ideas. The nihilism of Gorgias from the Eleatic point of view of bare identity, and the speechlessness of Cratylus from the Heraclitean ground of absolute difference, are alike disowned. But the one in the many, the identity in difference, is so far only postulated, not established. When the personality of Socrates is removed, the difficulty as to the nature of the Socratic universal, developed in the medium of the individual processes of individual minds, carries disciples of diverse general sympathies, united only through the practical inspiration of the master’s life, towards the identity-formula or the difference-formula of other teachers. The paradox of predication, that it seems to deny identity, or to deny difference, becomes a pons asinorum. Knowledge involves synthesis or nexus. Yet from the points of view alike of an absolute pluralism, of a flux, and of a formula of bare identity—and a fortiori with any blending of these principles sufficiently within the bounds of plausibility to find an exponent—all knowledge, because all predication of unity, in difference, must be held to be impossible. Plato’s problem was to find a way of escape from this impasse, and among his Socratic contemporaries he seems to have singled out Antisthenes as most in need of refutation. Antisthenes, starting with the doctrine of identity without difference, recognizes as the only expression proper to anything its own peculiar sign, its name. This extreme of nominalism for which predication is impossible is, however, compromised by two concessions. A thing can be described as like something else. And a compound can have a λόγος or account given of it by the (literally) adequate enumeration of the names of its simple elements or πρῶτα. This analytical λόγος he offers as his substitute for knowledge. The simple elements still remain, sensed and named but not known. The expressions of them are simply the speech-signs for them. The account of the compound simply sets itself taken piecemeal as equivalent to itself taken as aggregate. The subject-predicate relation fails really to arise. Euclides found no difficulty in fixing Antisthenes’ mode of illustrating his simple elements by comparison, and therewith perhaps the “induction” of Socrates, with the dilemma; so far as the example is dissimilar, the comparison is invalid; so far as it is similar, it is useless. It is better to say what the thing is. Between Euclides and Antisthenes the Socratic induction and universal definition were alike discredited from the point of view of the Eleatic logic. It is with the other point of doctrine that Plato comes to grips, that which allows of a certainty or knowledge consisting in an analysis of a compound into simple elements themselves not known. The syllable or combination is, he shows, not known by resolution of it into letters or elements themselves not known. An aggregate analysed into its mechanical parts is as much and as little known as they. A whole which is more than its parts is from Antisthenes’ point of view inconceivable. Propositions analytical of a combination in the sense alleged do not give knowledge. Yet knowledge is possible. The development of a positive theory of predication has become quite crucial.

Plato’s logic supplies a theory of universals in the doctrine of ideas. Upon this it bases a theory of predication, which, however, is compatible with more than one reading of the metaphysical import of the ideas. And it sets forth a dialectic with a twofold movement, towards differentiation and integration severally, which amounts to a formulation of inference. The more fully analysed movement, that which proceeds downward from less determinate to more determinate universals, is named Division. Its associations, accordingly, are to the modern ear almost inevitably those of a doctrine of classification only. Aristotle, however, treats it as a dialectical rival to syllogism, and it influenced Galilei and Bacon in their views of inference after the Renaissance. If we add to this logic of “idea,” judgment and inference, a doctrine of categories in the modern sense of the word which makes the Theaetetus, in which it first occurs, a forerunner of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, we have clearly a very significant contribution to logic even in technical regard. Its general philosophical setting may be said to enhance its value even as logic.

(a) Of the idea we may say that whatever else it is, and apart from all puzzles as to ideas of relations such as smallness, of negative qualities such as injustice, or of human inventions such as beds, it is opposed to that of which it is the idea as its intelligible formula or law, the truth or validity—Herbart’s word—of the phenomenon from the point of view of nexus or system. The thing of sense in its relative isolation is unstable. It is and is not. What gives stability is the insensible principle or principles which it holds, as it were, in solution. These are the ideas, and their mode of being is naturally quite other than that of the sensible phenomena which they order. The formula for an indefinite number of particular things in particular places at particular times, and all of them presentable in sensuous imagery of a given time and place, is not itself presentable in sensuous imagery side by side with the individual members of the group it orders. The law, e.g., of the equality of the radii of a circle cannot be exhibited to sense, even if equal radii may be so exhibited. It is the wealth of illustration with which Plato expresses his meaning, and the range of application which he gives the idea—to the class-concepts of natural groups objectively regarded, to categories, to aesthetic and ethical ideals, to the concrete aims of the craftsman as well as to scientific laws—that have obscured his doctrine, viz. that wherever there is law, there is an idea.

(b) The paradox of the one in the many is none, if the idea may be regarded as supplying a principle of nexus or organization to an indefinite multiplicity of particulars. But if Antisthenes is to be answered, a further step must be taken. The principle of difference must be carried into the field of the ideas. Not only sense is a principle of difference. The ideas are many. The multiplicity in unity must be established within thought itself. Otherwise the objection stands: man is man and good is good, but to say that man is good is clearly to say the thing that is not. Plato replies with the doctrine of the interpenetration of ideas, obviously not of all with all, but of some with some, the formula of identity in difference within thought itself. Nor can the opponent fairly refuse to admit it, if he affirms the participation of the identical with being, and denies the participation of difference with being, or affirms it with not-being. The Sophistes shows among other things that an identity-philosophy breaks down into a dualism of thought and expression, when it applies the predicate of unity to the real, just as the absolute pluralism on the other hand collapses into unity if it affirms or admits any form of relation whatsoever. Identity and difference are all-pervasive categories, and the speech-form and the corresponding thought-form involve both. For proposition and judgment involve subject and predicate and exhibit what a modern writer calls “identity of reference with diversity of characterization.” Plato proceeds to explain by his principle of difference both privative and negative predicates, and also the possibility of false predication. It is obvious that without the principle of difference error is inexplicable. Even Plato, however, perhaps scarcely shows that with it, and nothing else but it, error is explained.

(c) Plato’s Division, or the articulation of a relatively indeterminate and generic concept into species and sub-species with resultant determinate judgments, presumes of course the doctrine of the interpenetration of ideas laid down in the Sophistes as the basis of predication, but its use precedes the positive development of that formula, though not, save very vaguely, the exhibition of it, negatively, in the antinomies of the one and the many in the Parmenides. It is its use, however, not the theory of it, that precedes. The latter is expounded in the Politicus (260 sqq.) and Philebus (16c sqq.). The ideal is progressively to determine a universe of discourse till true infimae species are reached, when no further distinction in the determinate many is possible, though there is still the numerical difference of the indefinite plurality of particulars. The process is to take as far as possible the form of a continuous disjunction of contraries. We must bisect as far as may be, but the division is after all to be into limbs, not parts. The later examples of the Politicus show that the permission of three or more co-ordinate species is not nugatory, and that the precept of dichotomy is merely in order to secure as little of a saltus as possible; to avoid e.g. the division of the animal world into men and brutes. It is the middle range of the μέσα of Philebus 17a that appeals to Bacon, not only this but their mediating quality that appeals to Aristotle. The media axiomata of the one and the middle term of the other lie in the phrase. Plato’s division is nevertheless neither syllogism nor exclusiva. It is not syllogism because it is based on the disjunctive, not on the hypothetical relation, and so extends horizontally where syllogism strikes vertically downward. Again it is not syllogism because it is necessarily and finally dialectical. It brings in the choice of an interlocutor at each stage, and so depends on a concession for what it should prove. Nor is it Bacon’s method of exclusions, which escapes the imputation of being dialectical, if not that of being unduly cumbrous, in virtue of the cogency of the negative instance. The Platonic division was, however, offered as the scientific method of the school. A fragment of the comic poet Epicrates gives a picture of it at work. And the movement of disjunction as truly has a place in the scientific specification of a concept in all its differences as the linking of lower to higher in syllogism. The two are complementary, and the reinstatement of the disjunctive judgment to the more honourable rôle in inference has been made by so notable a modern logician as Lotze.

(d) The correlative process of Combination is less elaborately sketched, but in a luminous passage in the Politicus (§ 278), in explaining by means of an example the nature and use of examples, Plato represents it as the bringing of one and the same element seen in diverse settings to conscious realization, with the result that it is viewed as a single truth of which the terms compared are now accepted as the differences. The learner is to be led forward to the unknown by being made to hark back to more familiar groupings of the alphabet of nature which he is coming to recognize with some certainty. To lead on, ἐπάγειν, is to refer back, ἀνάγειν, to what has been correctly divined of the same elements in clearer cases. Introduction to unfamiliar collocations follows upon this, and, only so, is it possible finally to gather scattered examples into a conspectus as instances of one idea or law. This is not only of importance in the history of the terminology of logic, but supplies a philosophy of induction.

(e) Back of Plato’s illustration and explanation of predication and dialectical inference there lies not only the question of their metaphysical grounding in the interconnexion of ideas, but that of their epistemological presuppositions. This is dealt with in the Theaetetus (184b sqq.). The manifold affections of sense are not simply aggregated in the individual, like the heroes in the Trojan horse. There must be convergence in a unitary principle, soul or consciousness, which is that which really functions in perception, the senses and their organs being merely its instruments. It is this unity of apperception which enables us to combine the data of more than one sense, to affirm reality, unreality, identity, difference, unity, plurality and so forth, as also the good, the beautiful and their contraries. Plato calls these pervasive factors in knowledge κοινὰ, and describes them as developed by the soul in virtue of its own activity. They are objects of its reflection and made explicit in the few with pains and gradually. That they are not, however, psychological or acquired categories, due to “the workmanship of the mind” as conceived by Locke, is obvious from their attribution to the structure of mind and from their correlation with immanent principles of the objective order. Considered from the epistemological point of view, they are the implicit presuppositions of the construction or συλλογισμός in which knowledge consists. But as ideas, though of a type quite apart, they have also a constitutive application to reality. Accordingly, of the selected “kinds” by means of which the interpenetration of ideas is expounded in the Sophistes, only motion and rest, the ultimate “kinds” in the physical world, have no counterparts in the “categories” of the Theaetetus. In his doctrine as to ἕν τὸ ποιοῦν or κρῖνον, as generally in that of the activity of the νοῦς ἀπαθής, Aristotle in the de Anima is in the main but echoing the teaching of Plato.

ii. Aristotle.

Plato’s episodic use of logical distinctions is frequent. His recourse to such logical analysis as would meet the requirements of the problem in hand is not rare. In the “dialectical” dialogues the question of method and of the justification of its postulates attains at least a like prominence with the ostensible subject matter. There is even formal recognition of the fact that to advance in dialectic is a greater thing than to bring any special inquiry to a successful issue. But to the end there is a lack of interest in, and therefore a relative immaturity of, technique as such. In the forcing atmosphere, however, of that age of controversy, seed such as that sown in the master’s treatment of the uttered λόγος quickly germinated. Plato’s successors in the Academy must have developed a system of grammatico-logical categories which Aristotle could make his own. Else much of his criticism of Platonic doctrine does, indeed, miss fire. The gulf too, which the Philebus apparently left unbridged between the sensuous apprehension of particulars and the knowledge of universals of even minimum generality led with Speusippus to a formula of knowledge in perception (ἐπιστημονικὴ αἴσθησις). These and like developments, which are to be divined from references in the Aristotelian writings, jejune, and, for the most part, of probable interpretation only, complete the material which Aristotle could utilize when he seceded from the Platonic school and embarked upon his own course of logical inquiry.

This is embodied in the group of treatises later known as the Organon and culminates in the theory of syllogism and of demonstrative knowledge in the Analytics. All else is finally subsidiary. In the well-known sentences with which the Organon closes Aristotle has been supposed to lay claim to the discovery of the principle of syllogism. He at least claims to have been the first to dissect the procedure of the debate-game, and the larger claim may be thought to follow. In the course of inquiry into the formal consequences from probable premises, the principle of mediation or linking was so laid bare that the advance to the analytic determination of the species and varieties of syllogism was natural. Once embarked upon such an analysis, where valid process from assured principles gave truth, Aristotle could find little difficulty in determining the formula of demonstrative knowledge or science. It must be grounded in principles of assured certainty and must demonstrate its conclusions with the use of such middle or linking terms only as it is possible to equate with the real ground or cause in the object of knowledge. Hence the account of axioms and of definitions, both of substances and of derivative attributes. Hence the importance of determining how first principles are established. It is, then, a fair working hypothesis as to the structure of the Organon to place the Topics, which deal with dialectical reasoning, before the Analytics. Of the remaining treatises nothing of fundamental import depends on their order. One, however, the Categories, may be regarded with an ancient commentator, as preliminary to the dialectical inquiry in the Topics. The other, on thought as expressed in language (Περὶ ἐρμηνείας) is possibly spurious, though in any case a compilation of the Aristotelian school. If genuine, its naïve theory that thought copies things and other features of its contents would tend to place it among the earliest works of the philosopher.

Production in the form of a series of relatively self-contained treatises accounts for the absence of a name and general definition of their common field of inquiry. A more important lack which results is that of any clear intimation as to the relation in which Aristotle supposed it to stand to other disciplines. In his definite classification of the sciences, into First Philosophy, Mathematics and Physics, it has no place. Its axioms, such as the law of contradiction, belong to first philosophy, but the doctrine as a whole falls neither under this head nor yet, though the thought has been entertained, under that of mathematics, since logic orders mathematical reasoning as well as all other. The speculative sciences, indeed, are classified according to their relation to form, pure, abstract or concrete, i.e. according to their objects. The logical inquiry seems to be conceived as dealing with the thought of which the objects are objects. It is to be regarded as a propaedeutic, which, although it is in contact with reality in and through the metaphysical import of the axioms, or again in the fact that the categories, though primarily taken as forms of predication, must also be regarded as kinds of being, is not directly concerned with object-reality, but with the determination for the thinking subject of what constitutes the knowledge correlative to being. Logic, therefore, is not classed as one, still less as a branch of one, among the ’ologies, ontology not excepted.