APPENDIX I
I
“Subjectless propositions” so the celebrated philologer has entitled a
little work which, on its first appearance, bore the title, _The Verba
Impersonalia in the Slav Languages_.
The change of name may well be connected with considerable additions in
the second edition. The new designation would, however, even in the
earlier form, have been the more suitable title. For, far from treating
the special nature of merely _one_ family of languages, the author sets
up a theory of wide-reaching significance, which, while contradicting
the prevailing view, only deserves all the more on this account general
attention. Not only philology, but also psychology and metaphysics have
an interest in the problem. Moreover, the new doctrine promised to bring
profit not only to the inquirer in these lofty spheres but also to the
schoolboy at present tortured by the school-master with impossible and
incomprehensible theories (cf. p. 23 seq.).
Such an influence, however, the treatise has not exercised. The earlier
views still hold unbroken sway even to-day, and although the appearance
of the monograph in a new edition bears testimony to a certain interest
in wider circles, this is manifestly not due to the circumstance that
the work was believed to have thrown light upon old doubts and errors.
Darwin’s epoch-making work, quite apart from the truth of its
hypothesis, had, even for its opponents, an indisputable worth; the
wealth of important observations and ingenious combinations every one
had to acknowledge with admiration. So also in the case of Miklosich,
who has compressed into a few pages a rich store of learning and
interspersed the most subtle observations. Many who have withheld their
assent to his principal thesis may still feel indebted to him for many
points of detail.
Here, however, we wish chiefly to consider the main problem and, very
briefly, to make ourselves clear respecting that with which it really
deals.
It is an old assertion of logic that the judgment consists essentially
in a binding or separating, in a relation of ideas to one another. This
view, almost unanimously maintained for two thousand years, has
exercised an influence upon other disciplines. And so we find
grammarians from very early times teaching that no more simple form of
expression in the case of the judgment exists, or can exist, than the
categorical, which combines a subject with a predicate.
That the carrying out of this doctrine brings with it difficulties could
not, of course, be permanently concealed. Propositions like: it rains,
it lightens, appear as though they had no wish to conform to this view.
Yet none the less the majority of inquirers were so firmly convinced,
that in such cases they felt compelled, not so much to doubt the
universal validity of their theory as rather to search for the subjects,
which in their view were only apparently missing. Many really believed
themselves to be in possession of the same. Now, however, in marked
contrast to the unity which had hitherto prevailed, they branched off in
the most varied directions. And if we examine somewhat closely and in
detail the various attempts at an explanation, we shall easily be able
to understand, why none of these were able to give permanent
satisfaction, or even for a time to bring about unanimity.
Science explains by reason of its comprehending a multiplicity as a
unity. Here also, of course, every effort has been made to accomplish
this, but every attempt has proved futile. When we say: it rains, many
have supposed that the unnamed subject denoted by the indefinite “it” is
“Zeus”: Zeus rains. But when we say: “es rauscht,” it is obvious that
Zeus cannot be the subject. Others again have thought that the subject
is here “das Rauschen”; consequently the meaning of the proposition
would be: “das Rauschen rauscht.” The previous example they also
completed in the same manner: “Raining, (or the rain) rains.”
When, however, we now say: “es fehlt an Geld,” the meaning must
therefore be: “das Fehlen an Geld fehlt an Geld.” But this is absurd. It
was therefore explained that the subject here is “Geld,” and the meaning
of the proposition is: “Geld fehlt an Geld.” Closely examined, this
would seem to strike a blow at the wished-for unity of explanation. If,
however, by closing one eye, the failure here may be partially ignored,
even this is useless when we stumble upon propositions like: “es giebt
einen Gott,” respecting which we arrive at no satisfactory meaning
either in the proposition: “das einen Gott geben giebt einen Gott; das
Geben giebt einen Gott,” or in the proposition, “Gott giebt einen Gott.”
It was therefore necessary to look for an explanation of an entirely
different character. But where was such an explanation to be found? And
even if ingenuity were here able to hit upon some expedient, what
availed such leaping from case to case, which could only be called the
caricature of a truly scientific explanation? Not a single designation
of the subject which has been so far suggested, can be termed suitable,
unless indeed it be a saying of Schleiermacher’s. For if this
philosopher (cf. p. 16) has really asserted that the subject in such
cases is _chaos_, this utterance must be regarded, not so much as an
attempt at explanation as rather a satire upon the hypotheses hitherto
set up by philologists.
Many inquirers are therefore of opinion that the real subjects of such
propositions as: it rains, it lightens, have, up to the present time,
not been discovered, and that even at the present time it is the
business of science to find them. But, would it not be strange if the
tracing of a subject, which is thought of by everyone, and which, though
unexpressed, forms the basis of the judgment, should yet offer such
extraordinary difficulties?
Steinthal seeks to explain this by saying that by the grammatical
subject something is suggested, which is yet unthinkable. But many will
reply with Miklosich (p. 23): “We would not, I think, be going too far
in asserting that grammar is not concerned with the unthinkable.”
The totality of the phenomena and the absolutely grotesque failure of
every attempt to determine the nature of the subject, however often and
however ingeniously this has been attempted, are the chief grounds on
which Miklosich bases his assertion that, generally speaking, the
supposed subject in the case of such propositions is a delusion, that
the proposition is no combination of subject and predicate, that, as
Miklosich expresses it, the proposition is subjectless.
Further reflections go to confirm this view, and among these one
consideration as to the nature of the judgment requires to be emphasized
on account of its special importance. Miklosich combats those who, like
Steinthal, deny that there is any reciprocal relation between grammar
and logic, at the same time repelling the attacks which, on the ground
of such a reciprocal relation, might be made against his doctrine by
psychologists and logicians. Indeed he arrives at the result that, in
consequence of the special peculiarity of certain judgments, subjectless
propositions must from the very first be expected in language. According
to his view it is wrong to suppose that every judgment is a relation
existing between ideas. It often happens that in a proposition only one
fact is affirmed or denied. In such cases a mode of expression is also
necessary, and it is obvious that this cannot well consist in a
combination of subject and predicate. Miklosich shows how philosophers
have been repeatedly led to this knowledge, though, as a rule, they have
not appreciated sufficiently the significance of their discovery. Not
sufficiently clear themselves as to the new truth to which they gave
expression, and, at the same time, clinging with strange indecision to
certain residues of the older view, it came about that what at first
they affirmed they at last essentially deny. Thus Trendelenburg chose to
find expressed in the proposition, “it lightens,” in the last resort, no
real judgment, but only the rudiments of a judgment which precedes the
notion of lightning and settles down into it, thereby forming the basis
for the complete judgment, “lightning is conducted by iron.” Herbart
finally declared such judgments as “es rauscht,” to be no judgments in
the ordinary sense, not, he thought, what in logic is, strictly
speaking, termed a judgment. The passage in which our author censures
the inconsistency of these philosophers, and shows that the source of
their confusion lies in their misunderstanding of the nature of judgment
and in their erroneous definition of it (p. 21 seq.), is excellent.
From all this Miklosich draws the conclusion that his subjectless
propositions are completely assured. And not only does he consider their
existence beyond doubt, he further shows that their appearance is by no
means so rare as might be supposed from the controversy into which it
has been necessary to enter concerning them. Their great variety had led
him, in the second part of his treatise (pp. 33-72) to set forth their
chief classes, and there we find subjectless propositions with the
Active Verb, the Reflexive Verb, the Passive Verb and the verb “to be,”
each of these four classes being illustrated by means of numerous
examples from the most various languages. This is especially the case
with the first class, where he makes an eightfold division with the
object of grouping the propositions according to the difference in their
content. He mentions as universally true (p. 6) that the finite verb of
the subjectless propositions always stands in the third person singular,
and, where the form admits a difference of gender, in the neuter.
In other directions also he traces the matter further. He shows how
these propositions did not arise later than those which predicate
something of a subject, but appear from the very outset among the
various forms of propositions (p. 13 seq., p. 19), and how, in the
course of time, they have disappeared from several languages (p. 26). He
proves that the languages in which they are preserved enjoy an
advantage, inasmuch as their application lends to the language a special
liveliness (26), and he shows how in other respects also it is not
always possible to substitute for the subjectless proposition the
categorical form, with which it is supposed to be identical. “Ich
friere” is, for instance, not fully identical with “mich friert.”
Instead of, was frierst du draussen? Komme doch herein! we cannot say:
was friert dich’s draussen? etc. “Mich friert” cannot be applied if I
expose myself voluntarily to the cold (p. 37).
II
This, shortly, is the substance of his book, regarding which I venture
to make a few critical observations.
I have sufficiently expressed in this summary, my approval of the
treatise in general, especially in respect of the main argument. The
proofs appear to me to be of so cogent a nature, that even the unwilling
will scarcely be able to escape from the truth. Quite independent of
these arguments, however, I had myself, long ago, arrived at the same
view, by way of a purely psychological analysis, and gave, in the most
decisive manner, public expression to it, when in 1874 I published my
_Psychology_.
Great, however, as were the pains I then took to set the teaching in a
clear light and to show every former view untenable, my success so far
has been slight. Apart from isolated individuals, I have been just as
little able to convince the philosopher, as Miklosich, in his first
edition, was able to convince philologists. Where a prejudice has,
during centuries, become ever more and more firmly rooted, where a
doctrine has penetrated even to the primary school, when a theory has
come to be regarded as fundamental upon which much else rests, and so,
as it were, by its weight rendered the foundation immovable, in such a
case, it is not to be expected that the error will immediately disappear
as soon as its refutation is established; on the contrary, it is to be
feared that distrust of the new view will be so great, as not even to
admit of a closer examination being made regarding the grounds on which
it rests. And yet when two investigators completely independent of each
other agree in their testimony, when by quite different paths they
arrive at the same goal, it may be hoped that this concurrence will not
be regarded as a mere coincidence, but that a more careful attention
will be bestowed upon the arguments on either side. I hope that this
will be so in the case of the new edition of Miklosich, in which I am
glad to see regard paid to my own work.
The agreement with regard to the main points makes subordinate points,
in respect of which we differ, of less moment. I shall, notwithstanding,
briefly touch on these.
Miklosich has termed those simple propositions, in which there is
contained no combination of subject and predicate, and in the
recognition of which I am in agreement with him, “subjectless
propositions.” I am not able entirely to approve his _use_ of the term
and the _grounds_ which he has given for its use.
Subject and predicate are correlative conceptions and stand or fall
together. A proposition which is truly without a subject must with equal
right be regarded as without a predicate. It does not therefore seem to
me quite fitting that Miklosich should always term such propositions
subjectless, and it is quite incorrect when he calls them mere
predicative propositions. (Cf. pp. 3, 25, 26, and elsewhere.) This might
suggest the view that he likewise believes a second conception (the
subject) is understood though not expressed, had he not in the most
decided manner denied this (p. 3 seq. and elsewhere); or that he
regarded such propositions as stunted forms of categorical propositions,
and the latter form as the original, had he not expressly refuted this
also (p. 13 seq.). His view rather seems to be, that the natural
development from the simple to the categorical form in thinking and
speaking is generally accomplished in such a way that the notion which
stands alone in the former proposition is combined with a second as
subject. “The subjectless propositions,” he says, p. 25, “are
propositions which consist only of a predicate, of what, in the natural
process of thought-formation must, in a great number of propositions, be
regarded as the prius, for which a subject may, but not necessarily
_must_ be sought.”
But this also can hardly be right, and the expression “subject” scarcely
seems to favour this view. That which forms the basis is, of course,
certainly that which in the construction of the judgment stands first.
The temporal succession of the words also agrees ill with such a view,
since, in the categorical proposition, we usually begin with the
subject. In opposition to such a view it may also be contended that the
emphasis usually falls upon the predicate (and Trendelenburg has made
use of this to indicate that the predicate is the main conception, and
even with exaggeration goes on to say: “We think in predicates,” cf. p.
19). If the predicative conception is what is newly added, it will,
accordingly, be the object of greater interest. On the other hand, we
would be compelled to expect exactly the opposite if the notion of the
subject contained the newly added moment.
It may just as truly be said, “a bird is black,” as, “something black is
a bird”; “Socrates is a man,” as, “a man is Socrates”; but Aristotle has
already observed that only the former predication is natural, the latter
form is opposed to the natural order. And this is really so far true,
that we naturally make _that_ term the subject to which we first pay
regard in forming a judgment, or to which the hearer must first attend
in order to understand the proposition, or to gain knowledge as to its
truth or falsity. We can be assured of the existence of a black bird by
seeking it among birds or among black objects, more easily, however,
among the former. In the same way we may be more easily assured that an
individual belongs to a particular species or genus by analysing its
nature than by running over the entire range of the corresponding
general notion. The cases of exceptions clearly confirm the rule and the
grounds on which it rests, as, for instance, when I say: “There is
something black; this something black is a bird,” in which case it is
just because I have first recognized the colour that I accordingly make
it the subject in the categorical proposition so formed.
Of the two categorical Sorites, the Aristotelian and the Goclenian, the
former in every succeeding link makes that term the subject which is
common to it and to the one preceding, the latter form makes it the
predicate. It is just on this account that the former appears the more
natural, and as such is generally regarded as the regular, the latter as
the reversed form. In like manner where, to a proposition not consisting
of a combination of ideas, we add a categorical proposition having one
term in common with the former, we usually apply this not as a predicate
but as a subject, and we should therefore prefer to say that a predicate
has been sought for a subject rather than that a subject has been
sought for a predicate. For example: es rauscht; das Rauschen kommt von
einem Bache (there is a sound of running water; the sound comes from the
brook). Es donnert; der Donner verkündet ein nahendes Gewitter (it
thunders; the thunder heralds an approaching storm). Es riecht nach
Rosen; dieser Rosengeruch kommt aus dem Nachbargarten (there is a smell
of roses; the rose-scent comes from a neighbour’s garden). Es wird
gelacht; das Gelächter gilt dem Hanswurste (there is laughter; the
laughter is due to the clown). Es fehlt an Geld; dieser Geldmangel ist
die Ursache der Stockung der Geschäfte (there is a lack of money; this
dearth of money is the cause of the depression in trade). Es giebt einen
Gott; dieser Gott ist der Schöpfer des Himmels und der Erde (there is a
God; this God is the maker of heaven and earth), etc., etc.
Only in _one_ sense, therefore, does the term “subjectless proposition”
appear to me justifiable, and even perhaps deserving of recommendation,
in so far as regard is paid to the fact, that the notion which is
contained thereby is the only, and therefore, of course, the main
conception; a preference which in the categorical proposition belongs,
as we have seen, to the predicate. Similarly also in respect of
categorical in relation to hypothetical propositions we would much
rather say that they are propositions without an antecedent, than
propositions without a consequent proposition; not as though we meant
that where there is no antecedent there may still be a consequent
proposition, but that in the hypothetical construction the consequent is
the main proposition. In this way then I might perhaps agree with the
author respecting the term “subjectless proposition.”
Another point, however, in which I am unable fully to agree with him is
the question as to what extent subjectless propositions are applicable.
Miklosich rightly emphasizes the fact that the limits are on no account
to be drawn too tightly. But he thinks such limits at any rate exist,
and this is just what is shown most clearly in his attempt to classify
and divide the varied nature of the matter capable of being expressed by
subjectless sentences. But this appears to me incorrect. The
applicability of the subjectless form may, strictly speaking, be rather
regarded as unlimited, since--as I believe I have already shown in my
_Psychology_--every judgment, whether expressed in categorical,
hypothetical or disjunctive form admits, without the slightest
alteration in the sense, of being expressed in the form of a subjectless
proposition or, as I expressed it, of an existential proposition. Thus
the proposition, “A man is ill,” is synonymous with “There is a sick
man”; and the proposition, “All men are mortal,” with the proposition,
“There is no immortal man,” and the like.[A]
[A] Supplementary note. What is here said of the general applicability
of the existential form holds good only with the one manifest
limitation, in respect of judgments which are really completely
simple. In expressing such judgment logic has always made use of
the categorical form; in common life they are often applied as the
expression of a plurality of judgments based upon each other. This
is clearly the case in the proposition, “this is a man.” In the
demonstrative “this” the belief in existence is already included; a
second judgment then ascribes to him the predicate “man.” Similar
cases are frequent elsewhere. In my opinion it was the original
purpose of the categorical form to serve as a means of expressing
such double judgments (Doppelurteile), which recognize something
while affirming or denying something else of it. I also believe that
the existential and impersonal forms have, by a change in function,
proceeded from this form. This does not alter its essential nature:
a lung is not a swim-bladder (Fisch-blase) even though it has
developed therefrom, and the word “kraft” is none the less a merely
syncategorematic word (Cf. Mill, _Logic_, i. 2, § 2), even though its
origin may be traced to a substantive.
In yet another direction Miklosich appears to me to have limited too
narrowly the applicability of his subjectless propositions. We have
heard that such propositions constitute “an excellence in a language,”
“respecting which all languages are very far from being able to boast”
(p. 26). This, however, appears scarcely credible if it be true, as in
another passage he has so convincingly shown, that there are and always
have been judgments which do not consist in any combination of two ideas
with each other, and which therefore it is impossible to express by
means of a connexion of a subject with a predicate (p. 16). From this
must follow, not merely, as Miklosich _affirms_, the necessary existence
of subjectless propositions generally, but further (which he _denies_)
the existence of such propositions in all languages.