CHAPTER X. INDUCTION

Induction is an inference from many facts. Induction is verification.

Just as in a syllogism we show that a part is contained in the whole, so

in induction we show that a part is illustrated by the whole. It seems

that every single fact contains many truths, but induction establishes

their _universality_. A single brain contains all the truths of

phrenology, a single stone includes the phenomena of gravitation, the

temperance of a single individual exhibits the whole law of moderation,

but we learn the universality of these truths by induction.

Every legal statute, says Dr. Johnson, is founded on induction. 'Law is

the science in which the greatest powers of understanding are applied

to the greatest number of facts.' The _basis of all_ science is such an

extensive induction of particulars as leads to general definitions and

fundamental axioms, and furnishes the premises from which inferences may

be deduced.

Inductive observation is the great instrument of discovering important

truths. 'What are called the principles of human nature are learned from

individual instances. It is the only possible way of learning them. *

* When we reason from a general law or principle, we are in truth

reasoning from a number of instances represented by It.'*

* Rationale of Political Representation, p. 34.

A general election is an induction of the intelligence of the country

represented by the members of Parliament. The difference between

democracy and monarchy is in one sense an affair of logic. Where

electors are limited in franchise, and candidates restricted by property

qualification, the induction is partial, but where all can vote and many

can be chosen from, the premises are more capacious and the inference

sounder.

Dr. Whately says, that 'in Natural Philosophy a _single instance_ is

often accounted a _sufficient_ induction; e.g., having once ascertained

that an individual magnet will attract iron, we are authorised to

conclude that this property is universal.'

'The Edinburgh Reviewer of Whewell's "History of the Inductive

Sciences," observes that, "by the _accidental_ placing of a rhomb

of calcareous spar, upon a book or line, Bartholinus discovered the

property of the double refraction of light. By _accidentally_ combining

two rhombs in different positions, Huygens discovered the polarisation

of light. By _accidentally_ looking through a prism of the same

substance, and turning it round, Mains discovered the polarisation of

light by reflection; and by placing thin chrystalline films between two

similar prisms or rhombs, M. Arago discovered the phenomena of polarised

tints."

'To this Mr. Whewell, in his "Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences,"

makes the following reply:--"But Bartholinus could have seen no such

consequence in the accident, if he had not previously had a clear

conception of single refraction. A lady, in describing an optical

experiment which had been shown her, said of her teacher, 'he told me

to increase and diminish the angle of refraction: and, at last, I found

that he only meant me to move my head up and down.' At any rate, till

the lady had acquired a knowledge of the meaning which the technical

terms convey, she could not have made Bartholinus's discovery by means

of this accident. Suppose that Huygens made the experiment alluded to,

without design, what he really observed was that the images appeared

and disappeared alternately as he turned the rhomb round. His success

depended on his clearness of thought, which enabled him to perform

the intellectual analysis which would never have occurred to most men,

however often they had combined two rhombs in different positions. Malus

saw that in some positions the light reflected from the windows of

the Louvre became dim. Another person would have attributed this to

accident; he, however, considered the position of the prism, and the

window; repeated the experiment often; and by virtue of the eminently

distinct conceptions of space which he possessed, resolved the

phenomenon into its geometrical conditions."* "If it were true, that

the fall of an apple was the occasion of Newton's pursuing that train of

thought which led to the doctrine of universal gravitation, the habits

and constitution of Newton's intellect were the real source of this

great event in the progress of knowledge."** "In whatever manner facts

may be presented to the notice of a discoverer, they can never become

the materials of exact knowledge, except they find his mind already

provided with precise and suitable conceptions, by which they may be

analysed and connected."'***

* Whewell: Phil. Induct. Sciences, vol. 2. pp. 199-1.

** Ibid, vol. 2, p. 189.

*** See J. N. Bailey's Essays pp. 87-8-9.

These admissions seem to me to prove that whenever a casual fact proves

to us a new truth, it does so by its coincidence with previously known

facts, and that the novelty of the occasion attracts all credit to

itself, and we lose sight of the generalisation below--the fruitful

soil of experience on which the new fact, like a seed, falls. We only

recognise difference by comparison, and the comparison is an induction,

however slender.

Monsieur de Montmorine was recaptured and brought to the scaffold,

through the trifling circumstance of some chicken bones being found near

the door of his landlady--a woman too poor to indulge in such dainties.*

The discovery of de Montmorine was not, as at first sight appears, an

inference from a single fact, but from an adjacent induction. It was

a general truth, (known to the party who observed the bones) a truth

inducted from a number of facts that poor people could not afford to

luxuriate on chickens. It was, therefore, from this induction, inferred

that some one of superior fortune must be living in that particular

place.

* Chambers' Miscellany of Useful and Entertaining Tracts,

No. 61: the Story of Lavaiette, p. 27

The judicious care which the great fathers of science have exhibited in

making their inferences, incontestably establishes their conviction

of the danger of any other reasoning than that from inductions. Lord

Brougham informs us, that what Newton's Principia is to science, Locke's

essay to metaphysics, Demosthenes in oratory, and Homer in poetry,

Cuvier's researches to our fossil osteology. But Cuvier never attempted

to draw any inferences until he had examined the _whole_ osteology of

the living species.

Lord Brougham remarks, that 'from examining a _single_ fragment of bone

we infer that, in the wilds where we found it, there lived and ranged,

some thousands of years ago, an animal of a peculiar kind.' This is a

case in which the inference spoken of is arrived at in a way different

from that apparently stated. We recognise in the 'fragment of bone'

a link in a chain of facts constituting the basis of a well-known

induction, which comparative anatomy has many times verified. It

is important to distinguish well the grounds from which accurate

inferences, such as these in the cases before us, have really been

adduced, in order to ascertain the grounds from which we should reason

generally. It will be found that solid reasoning can only proceed from

general rules--i.e., inductions from facts. It will be found that the

prime source of fallacy lies in reasoning from isolated facts. It is

not to be denied that such reasoning is sometimes right, but it is to

be remembered that it is right by accident, not by design. There is no

science or certainty in it. It is hazard, not logic.

This habit however, is very common. Mr. Mill says, that 'Not only _may_

we reason from particulars to particulars, without passing through

generals, but we perpetually do so reason. All our earliest inferences

are of this nature. From the first dawn of intelligence we draw

inferences, but years elapse before we learn the use of general

language. The child, who, having burnt his fingers, avoids to thrust

them again into the fire, has reasoned or inferred, though he has never

thought of the general maxim--fire burns. He knows from memory that he

has been burnt, and on this evidence believes, when he sees a candle,

that if he puts his fingers into the flame of it, he will be burnt

again. He believes this in every case which happens to arise; but

without looking, in each instance, beyond the present case. He is not

generalising; he is inferring a particular from particulars. In the same

way, also, brutes reason. There is little or no ground, for attributing

to any of the lower animals the use of conventional signs, without

which general propositions are impossible. But those animals profit by

experience, and avoid what they have found to cause them pain, in the

same manner, though not always with the same skill, as a human creature.

Not only the burnt child, but the burnt dog, dreads the fire.

'I believe that, in point of fact, when drawing inferences from our

personal experience, and not from maxims handed down to us by books

or tradition, we much oftener conclude from particulars to particulars

directly, than through the intermediate agency of any general

proposition. We are constantly reasoning from ourselves to other people,

or from one person to another, without giving ourselves the trouble to

erect our observations into general maxims of human or external nature.

When we conclude that some person will, on some given occasion, feel or

act so and so, we sometimes judge from an enlarged consideration of the

manner in which men in general, or men of some particular character,

are accustomed to feel and act; but much oftener from having known the

feelings and conduct of the same man in some previous instance, or from

considering how we should feel or act ourselves. It is not only the

village matron who, when called to a consultation upon the case of a

neighbour's child, pronounces on the evil and its remedy simply on the

recollection and authority of what she accounts the similar case of

her Lucy. We all, where we have no definite maxims to steer by, guide

ourselves in the same way; and if we have an extensive experience, and

retain its impressions strongly, we may acquire, in this manner, a

very considerable power of accurate judgment, which we may be utterly

incapable of justifying or of communicating to others. Among the higher

order of practical intellects, there have been many of whom it was

remarked how admirably they suited their means to their ends, without

being able to give any sufficient reasons for what they did and

applied, or seemed to apply, recondite principles which they were wholly

unable to state. This is a natural consequence of having a mind stored

with appropriate particulars, and having been long accustomed to reason

at once from these to fresh particulars, without practising the habit of

stating to oneself or to others the corresponding general propositions.

An old warrior, on a rapid glance at the outlines of the ground, is able

at once to give the necessary orders for a skilful arrangement of his

troops; though if he has received little theoretical instruction, and

has seldom been called upon to answer to other people for his conduct,

he may never have had in his mind a single general theorem respecting

the relation between ground and array. But his experience of

encampments, under circumstances more or less similar, has left a number

of vivid, unexpressed, ungeneralised analogies in his mind, the most

appropriate of which, instantly suggesting itself, determines him to a

judicious arrangement.

'The skill of an uneducated person in the use of weapons, or of tools,

is of a precisely similar nature. The savage who executes unerringly the

exact throw which brings down his game, or his enemy, in the manner

most suited to his purpose, under the operation of all the conditions

necessarily involved, the weight and form of the weapon, the direction

and distance of the object, the action of the wind, &c., owes this

power to a long series of previous experiments, the results of which he

certainly never framed into any verbal theorems or rules. It is the

same in all extraordinary manual dexterity. Not long ago a Scotch

manufacturer procured from England, at a high rate of wages, a working

dyer, famous for producing very fine colours, with a view of teaching

to his other workmen the same skill. The workman came; but his mode of

proportioning the ingredients, in which lay the secret of the effects he

produced, was by taking them up in handfuls while the common method was

to weigh them. The manufacturer sought to make him turn his handling

system into an equivalent weighing system, that the general principle of

his peculiar mode of proceeding might be ascertained. This, however,

the man found himself quite unable to do, and therefore could impart

his skill to nobody. He had, from the individual cases of his own

experience, established a connection in his mind between fine effects

of colour, and tactual perceptions in handling his dyeing materials;

and from these perceptions he could, in any particular cases, infer the

means to be employed, and the effect which would be produced, but could

not put others in possession of the grounds on which he proceeded, from

having never generalised them in his own mind, or expressed them in

language.

'Almost every one knows Lord Mansfield's advice to a man of practical

good sense, who, being appointed governor of a colony, had to preside

in its court of justice, without previous judicial practice or legal

education. The advice was to give his decision boldly, for it would

probably be right; but never to venture on assigning reasons, for they

would almost infallibly be wrong. In cases like this, which are of no

uncommon occurrence, it would be absurd to suppose that the bad reason

was the source of the good decision. Lord Mansfield knew that if any

reason were assigned it would be necessarily an afterthought, the judge

being _in fact_ guided by impressions from past experience, without the

circuitous process of framing general principles from them, and that if

he attempted to frame any such he would assuredly fail. Lord Mansfield,

however, would not have doubted that a man of equal experience, who

had also a mind stored with general propositions derived by legitimate

induction from that experience, would have been greatly preferable as

a judge, to one, however sagacious, who could not be trusted with the

explanation and justification of his own judgments. The cases of able

men performing wonderful things they know not how, are examples of the

less civilised and most spontaneous form of the operations of superior

minds It is a _defect in them_, and _often a source of errors_, not to

have generalised as they went on; but generalisation is a help, the most

important indeed of all helps, yet not an essential.'*

* Mill's Logic, pp. 251-5.

In illustration of generalising from single instances, Miss Martineau

gives this example:--'A raw Chinese traveller in England was landed by

a Thames waterman who had a wooden leg. The stranger saw that the wooden

leg was used to stand in the water with, while the other was high and

dry. The apparent economy of the fact struck the Chinese; he saw in it

strong evidence of design, and wrote home that in England one-legged men

are kept for watermen, to the saving of all injury to health, shoe, and

stocking, from standing in the river.'*

Reasoning on insufficient data--

Falls like an inverted cone,

Wanting its proper base to stand upon.

Samuel Bailey has furnished, in one passage, both a clear illustration

of the process, and the validity of an induction:--'Whoever had

witnessed the acts of a landlord to his tenants, of a schoolmaster to

his pupils, of artizans towards their apprentices, of husbands towards

their wives, on points where the power of the superior could not be

contested, and where his personal gratification was incompatible with

just conduct to the subordinate, would necessarily have formed in his

own mind a species of general rule; and from this rule he might safely

draw an inference as to what would be the conduct of a despot, seated on

a throne, in the possession of unchecked authority; assisted too, as the

inquirer would be, by that _indispensable and inestimable guide to the

knowledge of mankind, an appeal to his own feelings_, in a variety of

_analogous_ instances.

'We conclude, that a ruler with uncontrolled power will act the tyrant,

not merely from the fact that Caligula, or Nero, or Bonaparte did,

but from a thousand facts attesting that men, in, every situation, use

uncontrolled power in this way--just as we infer that all bodies tend to

the centre of the earth, _not merely from the circumstance of an apple

dropping from a tree, but from seeing the tendency in stones, water,

animals, and all things within our observation_. The use of uncontrolled

power, for the gratification of the possessor, without an equitable

respect to others, is no more peculiar to monarchs, than a tendency

to the earth is peculiar to apples. It may be useful to know that

_monarchs_ act in this way, as it may be useful to know that apples drop

to the ground; but it is much more useful to know that _men_ act in

this manner. _An inference is safer when gathered from the widest

induction.'_

* How to Observe, p. 6.

** Rationale of Political Representation. Introduction, pp.

85-6. The last sentence of this extract is abridged--but, as

the reader will find upon reference, the sense of the author

is faithfully rendered.

It may be useful to observe that, though a few instances are insufficient

to establish a theory, one may be sufficient to overturn a theory,

fancifully or hypothetically supported, Gibbon overturns the entertaining

theory of Rudbeck, an antiquarian of Upsal, of profound learning and easy

faith, who, by the dim light of legends and traditions, of conjectures

and etymologies, sought to establish the antiquity of Sweden over half

the earth. Gibbon annihilated this well laboured system of German

antiquities, by a single fact too well attested to admit of any doubt,

and of too decisive a nature to leave room for any reply--the fact that

the Germans, of the age of Tacitus, were unacquainted with the use of

letters. A circumstance fatal to their literary claims, urged by Olaus

Rudbeck.

In the chapter on 'Facts' I have cautioned the reader against

unquestioned data. This seems the place to remark that the unsuspected

sources of error and unfriendliness have their rise in the criminal

implicitness with which we listen to reports, and infer from rumours as

from facts. These are the very little handles which move men and women

to strange performances.'* All the plots of dramas and romances are

founded on misunderstandings, which a little sagacity of action (such as

a wise resolution not to be imposed upon would lead to) would commonly

suffice to arrest the error at its birth. With regard to character we

constantly infer from data, partial, limited, and doubtful. If most

quarrelers were called into a court of Inquiry to confess the real

grounds from which they have arrived at certain conclusions with regard

to their neighbours, and often with regard to their friends, they would

be at once overwhelmed with a conviction of the weakness of which they

have been guilty. Upon analysing the miserable sources of opinions

of which scandal and calumny are born, I have found it impossible

to restrain astonishment at the imbecility of logical power men will

sometimes be content to exhibit, where meanness prevails, malice

incites, and passion governs. Well might Bacon exclaim--'Doth any man

doubt, that if there were taken out of men's minds, vain opinions,

flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations, and the like, but it

would leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things?'** The

wise rule is, never judge from appearances when facts can be had--never

receive a report without challenging its foundation, nor adopt it

without permission to give the authority.

* Cricket on the Hearth.

** Essay on Truth.

In all cases, in which you must judge from appearances and reason

from conjectures, adopt the _fairest_ interpretation possible. On this

principle, credit will sometimes be given where none is due--but in nine

cases out of ten, justice will be done, for I am satisfied that there is

more worth among men than wisdom, and that we do well much oftener than

we reason well. We seldom need judge charitably, did we always endeavour

to judge justly. But we make a virtue of our own errors, and we often

affect to _condescend_ to pronounce an opinion, which it would be

criminal to withhold. If ever I go to the Herald's, office, the motto I

will have emblazoned shall be this--Justice is sufficient. Could we only

get justice in the world, we could afford to excuse it all its 'charity'

of judgment, and its benevolence even of act.

Where should a man's reputation be safe from suspicion if not in the

hands of his friend? It ought to be a principle of action with all

men, never to judge a friend except out of his own mouth. 'There was

a generous friend of mine once, who never would have judged me or any

other man unheard.'* With the sublime intensity of one who felt the

infinite value of private justice, has Schiller delineated this spirit

in the interview between Octavio and his son Max Piccolomini. After

a violent and visible struggle with his feelings--wrought upon by his

father's endeavours to sow suspicions in his mind, and detach him from

the service of his friend, Wallenstein--Max exclaims:--

* Edward to Mr. Peerybing.

I will procure me light a shorter way. Farewell.

Octavio. Where now?

Max. (To the Duke.)

If thou hast believed that I shall act

A part in this thy play----

Thou hast miscalculated on me grievously.

My way must be straight on.

True with the tongue,

False with the heart--I may not, cannot be:

Nor can I suffer that a man should trust me--

As his friend trust me--and then lull my conscience

With such low pleas as these:--"I ask him not--

He did it all at his own hazard--and

My mouth has never lied to him."--No, no

What a friend takes me for, that I must be.

--I'll to the Duke; ere yet this day is ended

Will I demand of him that he do save

His good name from the world, and with one stride

Break through and rend this fine-spun web of yours.

He can, he will!--I still am his believer.

Yet I'll not pledge myself, but that those letters

May furnish you, perchance, with proofs against him.

How far may not this Tertsky have proceeded--

What may not he himself too have permitted

Himself to do, to snare the enemy,

The laws of war excusing? Nothing, save

His own mouth shall convict him--nothing less!

And face to face will I go question him.

Ay--this state-policy? O how I curse it!

You will some time, with your state-policy,

Compel him to the measure; it may happen

Because ye are _determined_ that he is guilty,

Guilty ye'll make him. All retreat cut off,

You close up every outlet, hem him in

Narrower and narrower, till at length ye force him--

Yes, ye,--ye force him in his desperation,

To set fire to his prison. Father! father!

That never can end well--it cannot--will not!

Deem of it what thou wilt; but pardon me,

That I must bear me on in my own way.

All must remain pure betwixt him and me;

And, ere the day-light dawns, it must be known

Which I must lose--my father, or my friend.*

* Shiller's Piccolomini, act 3, scene 9.

Had Othello been thus honourable to Desdemona, he would never have

murdered her. Incalculable is the evil we bring on ourselves and

society, by supposing and surmising facts we ought resolutely to

question. The motto of the garter--

Evil be to him who evil thinks,

ought to be,

Evil is to him who evil thinks.

Every man will be his own Lawyer and his own Doctor, and such is the

perversity of human nature, he will also be his own _Iago_, and feed

himself with suspicions. Nearly all tragedies hinge on this error.

To avoid being the cause of misunderstanding to others, it is a good

rule never to speak critically of others, except in their presence, or

in print. When I am obliged to do this in conversation, with persons of

unknown or doubtful exactitude, I take care to keep much below the truth

in matters of censure, as anything of that kind may gain ten or twenty

per cent, in carriage. When with men of just habits of interpretation,

I pay them the highest compliment of friendship, and speak to them of

others, without reserve.

Notorious are the contumelies put upon the cases of grievance presented

from the people in the House of Commons. Nor is it altogether causeless.

So prone are the ignorant to mistake their prejudices for facts, and

ascribe to others as crimes what exists only in their own surmises, that

most popular cases may be stripped of half their pretensions without

injuring their truth. Exaggeration is the vice of ignorance. Half the

speeches addressed to 'King Mob' are hyperbolic. The sentiments of

public meetings minister too often to the prevalent inflation. The

people will be powerful when they learn to be exact--and not till then.

The only mode of correcting this evil is to instil into the people the

wise rule of Burlamiqui. To reason, (that is, inductively) says this

writer, is to calculate, and as it were draw up an account, after

balancing all arguments, in order to see on which side the advantage

lies. Burlamiqui had law chiefly in view in his remark, but the rule is

of immense application. A logician is a secretary or banker's clerk, who

keeps an account between truth and error. When a lady once consulted Dr.

Johnson on the degree of turpitude to be attached to her son's robbing

an orchard--'Madam,' said Johnson, 'it all depends upon the weight of

the boy. I remember my schoolfellow, Davy Garrick, who was always a

little fellow, robbing a dozen orchards with impunity, but the very

first time I climbed up an apple tree, for I was always a heavy boy, the

bough broke with me, and it was called a judgment. I suppose that is

why Justice is represented with a pair of scales.' This may not be the

precise reason why Justice has a pair of scales, but the point goes to

the root of the matter. Without weighing there can be neither justice

nor fair induction.

In illustration of these views Mr. Mill has some able remarks:--'In

proportion to any person's deficiency of knowledge and mental

cultivation, is generally his inability to discriminate between his

inferences and the perceptions on which they were grounded.

Many a marvellous tale many a scandalous anecdote, owes its origin to

this incapacity. The narrater relates, not what he saw or heard, but

the impression which he derived from what he saw or heard, and of which

perhaps the greater part consisted of inference, though the whole

is related not as inference but as matter-of-fact. The difficulty

of inducing witnesses to restrain, within any moderate limits,

the intermixture of their inferences with the narrative of their

perceptions, is well known to experienced cross-examiners; and still

more is this the case when ignorant persons attempt to describe any

natural phenomenon. "The simplest narrative," says Dugald Stewart, "of

the most illiterate observer involves more or less of hypothesis nay,

in general, it will be found that, in proportion to his ignorance,

the greater is the number of conjectural principle involved in his

statements. A village apothecary (and, if possible, in a still greater

degree, an experienced nurse) is seldom able to describe; the plainest

case, without employing a phraseology of which every word is a theory;

whereas a simple and genuine specification of the phenomena which mark a

particular disease--a specification unsophisticated by fancy, or by

preconceived opinions, may be regarded as unequivocal evidence of a mind

trained by long and successful study to the most difficult of all arts,

that of the faithful _interpretation_ of nature."'*

* Logic, pp. 408-9, vol. 2.

It is in judgments formed, in reprehensible indifference to the actual

facts of the case, that party rancour and the proverbial injustice of

popular political opinion take their rise. A useful caution on this

head is pronounced by Lord Brougham in his sketch of the life of Lord

Wellesley:--'How often do we see,' observes his lordship, 'vehement: and

unceasing; attacks made upon a minister or a statesman, perhaps not in

the public service, for something which he does not choose to defend or

explain, resting his claims to the confidence of his countrymen upon

his past exertions and his known character. Yet these assaults are

unremittingly made upon him, and the people believe that so much noise

could not be stirred up without something to authorise it. Sometimes the

objects of the calumny are silent from disdain; sometimes from knowing

that the base propagators of it will only return to their slander the

more eagerly alter their conviction of falsehood; but sometimes, also,

the silencer may be owing to official reserve, of which we see a most

remarkable instance in the ease of Lord Wellesly.'

Not only are enemies of the people afforded a justification for their

opposition by wrongful judgment pronounced upon them, but the friends

of the people often pass over to the other side through the same cause.

When a leader of the people first comes in personal contact with the

opposite party, and becomes acquainted with merits of feeling and

judgment which he had as it were pledged himself to deny, and indeed

achieved himself a position by disbelieving in, he becomes ashamed of

the injustice exacted from him by his inexorable adherents, and forsakes

his party when he should only forsake its errors. The case of Barnave,

in the first French Revolution, is a memorable instance of this. On

lesser theatres I have seen many instances of this kind of conversion;

Such changes have always been ascribed to venality, yet they are men

of generous instincts who are thus overcome--but they want logical

strength, and cannot correct themselves without falling.

It is a wise rule in conversation, never to guess at meanings. When, an

observation is made, capable of affording two inferences, at once put

the question which shall elicit the meaning intended. Conversation is

held to no purpose unless explicitness comes out of it. Innumerable are

the errors that arise through letting remarks pass, of which we

only _suppose_ we know the purport. This is a fruitful source of

misunderstanding. When in Scotland I was much instructed by the

intellectual characteristics of the people. The Scotch are essentially a

reflective people. The English conceive doubts, but the Scotch put them

into queries. Before I had been in the country many hours I was struck

by the inductive habits of the people. A very old and illiterate woman,

to whom I put an indefinite question, eyed me deliberately from head to

foot before she gave me an answer. Not in rudeness did she gaze, so much

as in inquiry as to what could be my object. I spent more than a week

in inquiring at places, where apartments were to be let, by which I

acquired profitable acquaintance with the people. Upon asking the

terms of apartments, I was met, in all cases, by several preliminary

questions, as for whom were they? what number of persons? what station,

habits, and probable stay? Then I received the precise answer required.

It did not seem to me that they were answering one question by asking

another, as is sometimes said of the Scotch--but by a happy and wise

presence of mind they asked, as all should do, at many questions as were

required to complete the data of the specific answer they were called

upon to give.

A wise practice is followed in courts of law. No judge pronounces an

opinion on a hypothetical case. What he would do? or what would be the

judgment of the law, suppose a certain case should arise?--are questions

he never condescends to answer. 'Bring the plaintiff into court, let the

evidence be taken, and then we will decide. We sit here to judge actual,

not suppositious cases.' Such would be the reply. People out of court

might profit by the example.

I remember one striking instance of the pernicious effects of surmise.

Some years ago I took part in a Fraternal Demonstration at Highbury

Barn. The assembly was numerous, and composed of persons of all nations

and all parties. The celebration was avowedly one of fraternity. The

tone of the meeting reflected its object. Pacific words were on every

tongue, and harmony reigned up till eleven o'clock. At that hour

Monsieur Chillman asked me if some steps could not be taken to annualize

the meeting, and he requested me to prepare and propose a resolution to

that effect. Monsieur Chillman, thinking the resolution ought to come

from an Englishman, strongly urged me to move it. I, thinking it too

important to emanate from a young man, looked about for a person of

experience and known discretion to introduce it. After several had

declined, Mr. Hetherington undertook it. The English politicians were

composed of two parties, the friends of Mr. O'Connor, and the members of

the National Hall. At that time they were pleased to be the antipodes of

each other. No sooner had Mr. Hetherington spoken, he being the friend

of Mr. Lovett, than his motion was supposed to come from Mr. Lovett's

party, though they were utterly ignorant of its origination. Clamour's

hundred tongues were loosened. Slumbering differences were awakened.

Suspicion spread like an infection. Fraternity perished of the

contagion. Twenty amendments were proposed, and it was not till

midnight, and then in a storm indescribably contradictory of the

meeting's whole purport, that a common understanding was come to.

Had the least inquiry been made by the objecting party, previously

to dissenting, they would have found that the suspicious proposition

originated with one of themselves. But assuming premises, they inferred

from conjecture instead of fact, and raised disastrous doubts as to the

ability of that assembly for domestic or international fraternisation.

The use and abuse of authority Is a subject worthy of the young

logician's serious attention. Many great writers like Bacon, through

policy--Burke through position, or Shakspere through versatility of

genius, have written on both sides of important questions. Such men,

taken piece-meal, may be quoted by the most opposite parties in favour

of the most opposite opinions. Unless there is time to make a broad

induction from their writings, showing, by weighty, quantitive evidence,

the side to which they leaned, better not quote them as _authorities_

at all, but give what expresses your own views on your own

responsibility--indeed, in _all_ cases, the quoter ought to stand

prepared, if possible, to justify all he cites from another in argument.

'There is perhaps something weak and servile in our wishing to rely

on, or draw assistance from, ancient opinions. Reason ought not, like

vanity, to adorn herself with old parchments, and the display of a

genealogical tree; more dignified in her proceedings, she ought to

derive everything from herself; she should disregard past times, and be,

if I may use the phrase, the contemporary of all ages.'* Quote others as

Grotius did: not as judges from whose decision there is no appeal, but

as witnesses whose conspiring testimony confirms the view taken.

* Necker.

Analogy has frequently been confounded with induction. Analogy signifies

reasoning from resemblances subsisting between phenomena--induction,

reasoning from the sameness of phenomena.

The phenomena affording an induction of a law of nature must be obvious,

uniform, and universal.

The rules to be observed in deducing general principles are, that the

case be true and the facts universal.

On this subject, as exhibiting the clearest results arrived at, I

transcribe a passage from Mill: 'There is no word which is used more

loosely, or in a greater variety of senses, than analogy. It sometimes

stands for arguments which may be examples of the most rigid induction.

Archbishop Whately, for instance, following Ferguson and other writers,

defines analogy conformably to its primitive acceptation, that which was

given to it by mathematicians, resemblance of relations. In this sense,

when a country which has sent out colonies is termed the mother country,

the expression is analogical, signifying that the colonies of a country

stand in the same _relation_ to her in which children stand to their

parents. And if any inference be drawn from this resemblance of

relations, as, for instance, that the same obedience or affection is

due from colonies to the mother country which is due from children to a

parent, this is called reasoning by analogy. Or if it be argued that

a nation is most beneficially governed by an assembly elected by the

people, from the admitted fact that other associations for a common

purpose, such as joint stock companies, are best managed by a committee

chosen by the parties interested; this, too, is an argument from analogy

in the preceding sense, because its foundation is, not that a nation is

like a joint stock company, or Parliament like a board of directors, but

that Parliament stands in the same _relation_ to the nation in which a

board of directors stands to a joint stock company. Now, in an argument

of this nature, there is no inherent inferiority of conclusiveness like

other arguments from resemblance, it may amount to nothing, or it may

be a perfect and conclusive induction. The circumstance in which the

two cases resemble, may be capable of: being shown to be the _matereal_

circumstance; to be that on which all the consequences, necessary to be

taken into account in the particular discussion, depend. In the case

in question, the resemblance is one of relation; the _fundamentum

relationis_ being the management, by a few persons, of affairs in which

a much greater number are interested along with them. Now, some may

contend that this circumstance which is common to the two cases, and

the various consequences which follow from it, have the chief share in

determining all those effects which make up what we term good or bad

administration. If they can establish this, their argument has the force

of a rigid induction: if they cannot, they are said to have failed

in proving the analogy between the two cases, a mode of speech which

implies that when the analogy can be proved, the argument founded upon

it cannot be resisted.'*

* Logic, pp. 97-8, vol. 2.

'Many of the most splendid and important discoveries in this science

were the result of analogical reasonings. It was from this source that

Dr. Priestley proved the compound nature of atmospheric air; and it is

related that it was in consequence of hints which he had given, when

on a visit to Paris, to Lavoisier, founded entirely upon analogical

conjectures, that the latter philosopher was induced to commence

experiments, with the view of proving the compound nature of water, and

of reducing it to its constituent elements. Indeed the whole history of

this very important and useful department of human knowledge exhibits

very striking and incontestable proofs how much of the art owed its

existence to mere hints and conjectures, founded, in many cases, upon

very slight resemblances or analogies.*. The chief province of analogy

is confined to that of suggestion. Analogies are the great hinters of

experiments. They illustrate an argument, but do not establish it.

They are probabilities, not proofs. Hence Lord Brougham in one place

exclaims:--'I have a dread, at least a suspicion, of all analogies, and

never more than when on the slippery heights of an obscure subject;

when we are, as it were, _inter apices_ of a metaphysical argument, and

feeling, perhaps groping, our way in the dark, or among the clouds.

I then regard analogy as a dangerous light, a treacherous _ignii

fatuus_.'**

A striking instance of the fallacy of analogy is afforded in the

experiments of Professor Matteuoci, which seem to prove that though the

analogies between electricity and nervous substance are nearly perfect,

yet they are two distinct agencies.***

* Blakey's Logic, pp. 97-7.

** Pal. Illus. vol. 2.

*** See Zoist No. 20, p. 363.

A Logic of Facts; Or, Every-day Reasoning · 第 10 / 16 章