In the Chapter on ‘Propositions of Existence’ I have adopted a new ‘normal form,’ in which the Class, whose existence is affirmed or denied, is regarded as the Predicate, instead of the Subject, of the Proposition, thus evading a very subtle difficulty which besets the other form. These subtle difficulties seem to lie at the root of every Tree of Knowledge, and they are far more hopeless to grapple with than any that occur in its higher branches. For example, the difficulties of the Forty-Seventh Proposition of Euclid are mere child’s play compared with the mental torture endured in the effort to think out the essential nature of a straight Line. And, in the present work, the difficulties of the “5 Liars” Problem, at p. 192, are “trifles, light as air,” compared with the bewildering question “What is a Thing?”
In the Chapter on ‘Propositions of Relation’ I have inserted a new Section, containing the proof that a Proposition, beginning with “All,” is a Double Proposition (a fact that is quite independent of the arbitrary rule, laid down in the next Section, that such a Proposition is to be understood as implying the actual existence of its Subject). This proof was given, in the earlier editions, incidentally, in the course of the discussion of the Biliteral Diagram: but its proper place, in this treatise, is where I have now introduced it.
In the Sorites-Examples, I have made a good many verbal alterations, in order to evade a difficulty, which I fear will have perplexed some of the Readers of the first three Editions. Some of the Premisses were so worded that their Terms were not Specieses of the Univ. named in the Dictionary, but of a larger Class, of which the Univ. was only a portion. In all such cases, it was intended that the Reader should perceive that what was asserted of the larger Class was thereby asserted of the Univ., and should ignore, as superfluous, all that it asserted of its other portion. Thus, in Ex. 15, the Univ. was stated to be “ducks in this village,” and the third Premiss was “Mrs. Bond has no gray ducks,” i.e. “No gray ducks are ducks belonging to Mrs. Bond.” Here the Terms are not Specieses of the Univ., but of the larger Class “ducks,” of which the Univ. is only a portion: and it was intended that the Reader should perceive that what is here asserted of “ ducks” is thereby asserted of “ ducks in this village.” and should treat this Premiss as if it were “Mrs. Bond has no gray ducks in this village,” and should ignore, as superfluous, what it asserts as to the other portion of the Class “ducks,” viz. “ Mrs. Bond has no gray ducks out of this village”.
In the Appendix I have given a new version of the Problem of the “Five Liars.” My object, in doing so, is to escape the subtle and mysterious difficulties which beset all attempts at regarding a Proposition as being its own Subject, or a Set of Propositions as being Subjects for one another. It is certainly, a most bewildering and unsatisfactory theory: one cannot help feeling that there is a great lack of substance in all this shadowy host——that, as the procession of phantoms glides before us, there is not one that we can pounce upon, and say “Here is a Proposition that must be either true or false!”——that it is but a Barmecide Feast, to which we have been bidden——and that its prototype is to be found in that mythical island, whose inhabitants “earned a precarious living by taking in each others’ washing”! By simply translating “telling 2 Truths” into “taking both of 2 condiments (salt and mustard),” “telling 2 Lies” into “taking neither of them” and “telling a Truth and a Lie (order not specified)” into “taking only one condiment (it is not specified which),” I have escaped all those metaphysical puzzles, and have produced a Problem which, when translated into a Set of symbolized Premisses, furnishes the very same Data as were furnished by the Problem of the “Five Liars.”
The coined words, introduced in previous editions, such as “Eliminands” and “Retinends”, perhaps hardly need any apology: they were indispensable to my system: but the new plural, here used for the first time, viz. “Soriteses”, will, I fear, be condemned as “bad English”, unless I say a word in its defence. We have three singular nouns, in English, of plural form, “series”, “species”, and “Sorites”: in all three, the awkwardness, of using the same word for both singular and plural, must often have been felt: this has been remedied, in the case of “series” by coining the plural “serieses”, which has already found it way into the dictionaries: so I am no rash innovator, but am merely “following suit”, in using the new plural “Soriteses”.
In conclusion, let me point out that even those, who are obliged to study Formal Logic, with a view to being able to answer Examination-Papers in that subject, will find the study of Symbolic Logic most helpful for this purpose, in throwing light upon many of the obscurities with which Formal Logic abounds, and in furnishing a delightfully easy method of testing the results arrived at by the cumbrous processes which Formal Logic enforces upon its votaries.
This is, I believe, the very first attempt (with the exception of my own little book, The Game of Logic, published in 1886, a very incomplete performance) that has been made to popularise this fascinating subject. It has cost me years of hard work: but if it should prove, as I hope it may, to be of real service to the young, and to be taken up, in High Schools and in private families, as a valuable addition to their stock of healthful mental recreations, such a result would more than repay ten times the labour that I have expended on it.
L. C.
29, Bedford Street, Strand.
Christmas, 1896.
INTRODUCTION.
TO LEARNERS.
[N.B. Some remarks, addressed to Teachers, will be found in the Appendix, at p. 165.]
The Learner, who wishes to try the question fairly, whether this little book does, or does not, supply the materials for a most interesting mental recreation, is earnestly advised to adopt the following Rules:—
(1) Begin at the beginning, and do not allow yourself to gratify a mere idle curiosity by dipping into the book, here and there. This would very likely lead to your throwing it aside, with the remark “This is much too hard for me!”, and thus losing the chance of adding a very large item to your stock of mental delights. This Rule (of not dipping) is very desirable with other kinds of books——such as novels, for instance, where you may easily spoil much of the enjoyment you would otherwise get from the story, by dipping into it further on, so that what the author meant to be a pleasant surprise comes to you as a matter of course. Some people, I know, make a practice of looking into Vol. III first, just to see how the story ends: and perhaps it is as well just to know that all ends happily——that the much-persecuted lovers do marry after all, that he is proved to be quite innocent of the murder, that the wicked cousin is completely foiled in his plot and gets the punishment he deserves, and that the rich uncle in India (Qu. Why in India? Ans. Because, somehow, uncles never can get rich anywhere else) dies at exactly the right moment——before taking the trouble to read Vol. I. This, I say, is just permissible with a novel, where Vol. III has a meaning, even for those who have not read the earlier part of the story; but, with a scientific book, it is sheer insanity: you will find the latter part hopelessly unintelligible, if you read it before reaching it in regular course.
(2) Don’t begin any fresh Chapter, or Section, until you are certain that you thoroughly understand the whole book up to that point, and that you have worked, correctly, most if not all of the examples which have been set. So long as you are conscious