less often than of mental confusion. Few of us realize how seldom we
think clearly; how much more rarely we think clearly and consecutively;
and how most rare it is that we think clearly, consecutively, and
logically. Much training is required to bring the mind to the power of
holding fast to a single issue in discussion, of persisting in a single
line of proof, of resisting all temptations to turn to side issues.
Nor is this solely from a lack of intellectual power; it is in part
due to an instinctive desire to escape unwelcome results. One of the
surest indications of a firm and well-disciplined mind is that it does
not shrink from its own conclusions. The natural, human tendency is
to escape from a distasteful result of investigation or reasoning by
assuming that the process must be wrong because the decision arrived at
is unpleasant. Yet to dislike a proposition is not to disprove it. To
protest against the fact established by sound logic no more destroys
it than the wail of a child brings down from heaven the round yellow
moon for which he cries. All intellectual growth and all character
stand upon the willingness of the mind to accept and to act upon the
conclusions at which it arrives by the exercise of its best reasoning
powers. It is much to be able to think; it is more to dare to think;
but it is most of all to be able to accept without shrinking or evasion
the results of thought, whether one’s own or others’.
XIII
ARGUMENTATIVE FORM
It is proper and perhaps even important that the student shall learn
the distinction which is made by logicians between reasoning which is
inductive and that which is deductive. As a matter of practical work in
the writing of arguments, the distinction is of less importance than
might seem from the formality with which these terms are treated; but
as Induction and Deduction are words which the true logician cannot
mention without at least a seeming impulse to cross himself, it is well
to know what the difference is.
Induction, then, is reasoning from the particular to the general; the
establishment of an hypothesis by showing that the facts agree with
it. It is preëminently the scientific method. By observing natural
phenomena, the scientist conceives what the law which governs them must
be. This idea of the general principle is then the hypothesis which he
attempts to prove; and his method is to examine the facts under all
conditions possible, establishing his proposition by showing that the
facts are in accord with it.
Deduction is the converse of this, and consists in drawing out
particular truths from general ones. A universal proposition may be
regarded as a bundle in which are bound together many individual ones.
It is the work of deduction to take these out,--to separate any one
of them from the rest. The general truth, “All metals are elements,”
includes in it the especial truths, “Iron is an element,” “Gold is an
element,” and so on for each metal which could be named. Deduction
is the process of separating one of these from the whole. Speaking
broadly, scientific reasoning is more likely to be inductive, while
other reasoning is more likely to be deductive.
As a matter of practical composition, Argument is the statement of
a proposition, and the arrangement of the proofs which the writer
believes will establish its truth. The essential matter is to begin
with some truth or fact generally acknowledged, and to lead the mind
of the reader on by deductions which cannot be disputed, until the
proposition to be proved is reached as an unassailable conclusion.
This process may be very simple, or extremely complex; the steps may
be slight, or they may be, like the platforms of the pyramids, barely
scalable. In discussing methods, it is necessary to use some technical
expressions which it is well to define:--
A Term is a word or combination of words used to name some thing or
idea in reasoning.
A Proposition is a statement of the relation between two terms.
If we say, “The man is a patriot,” we have a sentence in which is
a statement of the relation between the thing “man” and the thing
“patriot.” This is therefore a proposition. Here the terms are “man”
and “patriot,” because these are the names of the things of which we
speak in reasoning.
We might now make another proposition, this time general, and say,
“A patriot is a valuable citizen.” Here the terms are “patriot” and
“valuable citizen,” and the proposition asserts a relation between them.
If these two propositions are examined, they are found to have in
common the term “patriot,” and it is seen to be possible to draw from
them another proposition. If the man of whom mention is made is a
patriot, and a patriot is a valuable citizen, it is evident enough that
the man must be a valuable citizen. It is merely an application of the
principle that things which are equal to the same thing are equal to
each other. And this brings us to a third definition:--
A Syllogism is a group of three propositions, of which, if the first
two are true, the third must follow as a deduction from them.
A complete syllogism has just been given: The man is a patriot; a
patriot is a valuable citizen; hence the man is a valuable citizen.
It is possible to draw a third proposition only from two that have
one term in common. It follows that there are three terms in a
syllogism,--the first and second propositions having one term alike,
and each having a particular term which reappears in the third
proposition. This third proposition is that which the endeavor is
made to prove. To establish a proposition by syllogism, then, it is
necessary to find two others which contain each one of its terms, and
which have a term in common. It is necessary to add that not from
every pair of propositions which contain a common term is it possible
to draw a third, and thus to form a syllogism. If we say, “A rose is a
flower,” “A lily is a flower,” we have two propositions which have a
common term, yet we cannot go on to make the third proposition, “Hence
a rose is a lily.” The term which is common to both propositions must
in one of them be spoken of as a whole, or in a general way. Logicians
say that it must be “distributed;” in other words, one assertion must
cover the term in its entire extent. In the first syllogism which we
examined, the common--it is usually called the “middle”--term is in the
second proposition spoken of in a general way. “A patriot is a valuable
citizen” is an assertion of all patriots. In the false syllogism, “A
rose is a flower; a lily is a flower,” there is nothing said of all
flowers, and yet “flower” is the middle term. The rose is one flower,
the lily is one flower, but until there is something said of all
flowers it is not possible to draw out a new conclusion,--to form a
syllogism.
He who wishes to exercise his wits with pretty mental gymnastics may
learn from books on logic that there are a great many varieties of
syllogisms. There are twenty-four valid ones, and a crowd of poor
relatives, which exist under the discrediting title, “imperfect
syllogisms,” and which, paradoxically, are of no use until they have
been “reduced.” When it is added that each has a fine Latin name, the
reader may appreciate that he is here being spared a good deal.
* * * * *
Although it is not possible to take space for a very intricate example
of the skeleton of an argument, it is hardly fair to give nothing more
complex than a simple syllogism; and the following may assist the
formation of a more clear conception of the form in which reasoning
should be put. Suppose the proposition which is to be proved to be,
“The Norsemen discovered America before Columbus.”
Taking a few of the more obvious arguments which might be advanced in
support of this proposition, and arranging them so as to begin with the
more generally allowed and easily proved, we have:
1. The frequent appearance in European literature before Columbus of
allusions to a land across the sea.
2. The story in the Icelandic Sagas.
3. Norse remains in America.
These proofs will be sufficient for purposes of illustration. Let us
examine them in detail a little. Under each of these proofs--which
it is convenient to call subordinate propositions--lies a syllogism,
whether it is fully stated or not. The writer must be entirely clear
in his own mind what this is, whether it seem to him well to state
it explicitly or not. Here the syllogism of the first subordinate
proposition, briefly stated, is:--
Allusions to a land over sea prove knowledge of such a land.
In pre-Columbian literature are allusions to land over sea.
Hence there must have been knowledge of such a land.
This brings us face to face with the necessity of supporting premises
with facts. To support the first sub-proposition there must be
citations from pre-Columbian literature. This is a mere matter of
research. One reason for putting this especial proof first is that
in supporting it it is possible to begin with facts which cannot be
questioned. It is true that the very next step will bring us upon
doubtful territory, but we start from firm ground. The moment that the
passages are quoted, the possibility occurs to the mind that they may
be taken to refer to lands then known, or as the expression of mythical
fancies. These objections must be met. An argument can no more pass an
unanswered objection than a locomotive can cross a bridge from which
a span is missing. Reasons must here be given for connecting with the
New World the passages cited. It will be no less important to show the
reasons for supposing that the information which the ancient writers
possessed of the New World came from the Norsemen. The rest may all be
allowed, and yet be held to have no bearing on the thing to be proved,
so that this link in the chain must be made strong and evident.
This last point illustrates the sort of questions which are likely
to arise in regard to arrangement. Is it well to introduce here the
proofs that this knowledge of another continent came from the Norse, or
would it be better to wait until the Icelandic Sagas have been spoken
of? In the latter case, the parts of the argument may be more closely
bound together, and it gives an air of fairness to the whole when the
writer is willing to go back a good way in his argument to take up
possible objections and answer them. Against this is to be balanced the
possibility that the reader may be put into a suspicious state of mind
by finding that a doubtful point is passed over, and so be less easily
convinced than he otherwise might be. The writer of an argument must
consider these things, and upon the good judgment with which he settles
such questions much of his success depends.
In this first sub-proposition there is no need of stating formally
the syllogism involved, since, if the first or major premise is
successfully defended, the rest follows obviously. As a matter of
practical arrangement, then, the sub-proposition and its defense might
stand in this order:--
1. The discovery of America by the Norsemen is proved by the allusions
in pre-Columbian literature to a land over sea.
_a._ Citation of passages.
_b._ Proofs that these do not refer to the Eastern Hemisphere.
_c._ Proofs that they are not mythical allusions.
_d._ Proofs that they do refer to America.
_e._ Proofs that the knowledge shown came from Norsemen.
When these points are established, the first sub-proposition, with
its underlying syllogism, may be looked upon as proved, and the next
may be taken up. I have not studied the question of the discovery of
America by the Norsemen closely enough to know that the line of proof
given is the best possible, but it serves well enough to illustrate the
general form of the skeleton of an argument. Each of the subordinate
propositions must be divided and subdivided if necessary, until the
divisions can be handled easily and proved conclusively; and the writer
will do well to test the strength of his argument by making a complete
chain of the syllogisms involved, seeing which rests upon another, so
that the arrangement may be conformed to principles of natural sequence.
One important matter in reasoning is never to claim too much. Care must
be taken not to put upon a proof a greater strain than it will bear.
It is also an obvious rule that it is wise to insist upon no more than
is absolutely needed to establish the proposition in hand. Sometimes
it is wise to indicate that more might be proved, but in general the
assent of the reader is to be treated as a bank account to be drawn
upon as far as it is necessary, but in no case beyond the actual need
of the occasion. It is well never to waste strength in proving more
than is essential, and always to avoid a side issue as one shuns a road
leading to sure destruction. Often it is a wise device in argumentation
to establish a point and leave the reader to perceive its import. Here
as everywhere a thing which the reader is led to do for himself is a
hundred fold more effective than anything which can be done or said for
him. The phrase, “Is it not possible that these facts prove this?” has
won more converts than the boldest assertion: “These proofs make it
impossible to doubt.” Man that is born of woman is born to obstinacy
as the sparks fly upward, and if he be assured that he cannot or shall
not doubt, he is apt to begin to doubt from simple contrariety. Yet it
will not do to run any risk of leaving the reader in doubt as to what
has been established by the arguments given. It is often necessary to
insist that a proposition is proved. A victory is hardly recognized as
a victory until the trumpets are blown, and an argument is scarcely
concluded without some sort of a declaration of success.
Where the line is to be drawn between the extreme of leaving to the
reader the perception of what is proved and that of insisting that a
demonstration has been made must depend upon the audience addressed.
The writer of an argument has especial need to be sure to whom he
speaks. He must consider the knowledge of his audience, their views,
and especially their prejudices. It is in relation to the last that
there comes into play what it has been the fashion to call Persuasion.
Although Argument is an appeal to the intellect, there are few chains
of reasoning which fail to appeal also to the emotions. It is hardly
possible to conceive of a discussion which will not to a greater or
less degree touch the passions of those addressed. Much is effected by
keeping in mind the natural prejudices of the reader, and so framing
arguments that they shall appeal directly to the emotions by the
personal or selfish nature of their deductions. An illustration is to
be found in political harangues, which, while nominally devoted to
proving the wisdom or advisability of some party measure, are really
only clever attempts to convince that the measure is for the personal
advantage of voters. This is, of course, the abuse of this form of
argument. The legitimate use of this appeal to the passions is in the
putting of reasoning sound and wholesome in itself into a form which
shall captivate the hearer or reader. It is the lavishing upon the
composition of all the graces of manner, of style, of ornament, which
the writer can compass, to the end that the reader shall be attracted
and inclined to accept the conclusions set down. Stevenson speaks of a
somewhat different matter in words which are strictly applicable here:--
Whatever be the obscurities, whatever the intricacies of the
argument, the neatness of the fabric must not suffer, or the
artist has been proved unequal to his design. And, on the other
hand, no form of words must be selected, no knot must be tied
among the phrases, unless knot and word be precisely what is
wanted to forward and illuminate the argument; for to fail in this
is to swindle in the game.--_Cont. Rev._, vol. xlvii. (1885),
p. 551.
Almost as often as with the establishment of our own reasoning, are
we concerned in argument with endeavors to overthrow the logic of
an opponent. Frequently it is necessary to refute views opposed to
that which is being put forward. It is in general wise not to bring
this in too soon. It is well to predispose the reader in favor of the
conclusion to be defended, and then to take up contrary opinions.
Sometimes a broad statement at the beginning to the effect that
objections exist is politic; and in any case it is important that
there be no slightest appearance of shirking or evading the issue.
When the writer is conscious that the weight of popular sentiment or
general opinion is against him, he may sometimes command attention
and provoke interest by boldly plunging at once into an attack upon
commonly received theories. Audacity always commands attention, and
if it be reinforced by ability it is no less sure of admiration. A
striking example of this method is to be found in Colonel Ingersoll’s
attacks upon the Bible and religion. However one may be shocked by
his violations of good taste, and whether one does or does not agree
with his methods or his conclusions, it is impossible to deny his
success as a speaker. The very boldness with which he has attacked has
insured a hearing. This form of discussion calls for dash, courage, and
confidence,--and it is sometimes the result of sheer impudence. Only he
who has great powers and perfect command of them can reasonably hope to
succeed here.
For answering the arguments of others, and indeed for the proper
examination of one’s own, it is necessary to give attention to the
numerous fallacies which may creep into reasoning, by design or by
accident. These are to be completely mastered only by the minute study
of logic; but some are so common that they should be considered here.
The first fallacy is that of the confusion of terms, such as that
found in the attempt to prove the _chef_ to be an interpreter of the
beautiful, or in the question whether Whitman was a poet.
The second fallacy which in practical writing it is well to be on guard
against is the _non sequitur_. There is much advanced as argument--as
for instance in political editorials--where consecutiveness is
confounded with causality. _Post hoc ergo propter hoc_ is the phrase
which sums this up: After this, therefore because of this. “We shall
die after eating this meal, therefore this meal is the cause of our
death,” is an example of this fallacy. Put in this way the absurdity is
evident; but a genuine fallacy, lurking under words as the conventional
serpent of school-girl compositions and of temperance orators lurks
beneath flowers, is a different thing. Here is part of an editorial
from one of the leading New York daily journals:
The vote of Senator X. is a striking illustration of the power of
money among the law-makers of this great nation. The vigorous and
unscrupulous support which has been given to this bill by Mr. A.,
the western billionaire, is known to everybody; and equally well
known is the fact that hitherto Senator X. has been counted among
the stanch opposers of the iniquitous measure. Senator X. is known
to have had a private interview with Mr. A. on the evening before
the vote was taken, and the result was evident when next morning
the Senator gave his support to the bill which he had before
steadily opposed.
In the especial case to which this refers there may or there may not
have been bribery; but it is well to bear in mind that this editorial
proves nothing. It amounts merely to saying that the vote happened
after the interview and was therefore the result of it; so that it is
in reality one of those fallacies which in a simpler form appear so
absurd. Yet readers in abundance accept this sort of thing as proof,
especially when political prejudice inclines them to believe it. It
would seem that a little common sense and a little care in examination
were all that could be needed to dispose of specious errors of this
class, yet they every day prevail.
The third fallacy is that of analogy. Analogy proves a probability,
but it cannot establish a certainty. If a young woman has refused a
dozen suitors, it is manifestly absurd to say that this proves that
she will be equally unkind to the thirteenth. Politicians reason by
analogy that a State which hitherto has gone Republican or Democratic
may be counted upon to give a majority for its old party; when, lo, a
change comes suddenly, and the conclusion is found to be false. That we
have always liked the novels of a certain author does not insure that
we shall be pleased with his next; that the sun has always risen does
not prove that it will rise to-morrow morning; that men have from time
immemorial been born with one head does not prove that a child may not
be born with two,--as testify the freaks of dime museums. It is true
that analogy often establishes a probability so strong that it amounts
to a moral certainty. We are justified in acting upon the assumption
that the sun will rise to-morrow, and in assuming that any given child
of whose birth we hear has but one head. It is important in arguing,
however, to bear in mind the difference, whether in one’s own reasoning
or in that of an opponent, between analogy and absolute proof. Things
which are like the same thing are like each other; but things that are
like the same thing are not necessarily equal to each other.
The practical rules which may be given for the writing of Argument are
chiefly recapitulations of what has been said.
_a._ Begin with clear understanding and clear statement of proposition
and of terms.
_b._ Plan argument with reference to the especial point to be
established and to the audience to be addressed.
_c._ Proceed generally from the more obvious to the less clear, and
from the weaker to the stronger proof.
_d._ Be acutely alive to fallacies in any reasoning which is to be
refuted, but to fallacies in your own work no less.
_e._ Never force a proposition or a proof beyond its value.
_f._ Concede all side issues and irrelevant matters if by so doing you
do not lessen the chain of reasoning in points really important, and
especially if in so doing you can foster a disposition favorable to
your position.
_g._ Always remember that assertion is not argument.
To these rules might not inappropriately be added the saying of
Sophocles: “Truth is always the strongest argument.”
* * * * *
The practical application of Argument to literary work is not difficult
to discover. The most obvious use of this sort of composition is
in the plea of the lawyer, the editorials of the newspaper, the
essay establishing scientific theories, literary opinions, or the
like. Whoever writes at all, however, even if it be but in simple
private correspondence, is sure to employ Argument sooner or later,
and to a greater or less degree. It may be in defense of a friend,
the justification of one’s own acts, in proving the value of a new
invention, supporting political or scientific views, in urging a
particular line of investment,--in short, in any one of a thousand
different ways. In one shape or another, reasoning comes constantly
into play. He is merely a “mush of concession” who never attempts to
bring another to his way of thinking. Indeed, he who does not endeavor
to make others think as he thinks may be suspected of never thinking at
all. Life is a continuous conflict, the strife for the survival of the
fittest. The instinct to make our opinions prevail is in the blood of
the meekest. Civilization differs from barbarism chiefly in that the
strife has become intellectual instead of physical; and intellectual
conflict is but another name for Argument. Since our lot is cast in a
civilized state of society, to neglect this form of composition is to
neglect the manual of arms of the battalion in which Fate has enrolled
us!
XIV
DESCRIPTION
Description is at once the most common and the most difficult of the
varieties of composition. It is apparently a thing which nobody fears
to undertake, while it is certainly one which only a master is able
to do really well. Everybody attempts it, yet there are probably in
literature fewer fully successful descriptions than there are examples
of any other sort of writing whatever.