272. The proof of this necessity of decomposition, besides being fully established by the above example, is found in the elements of all instruction, where, under a form of demonstration, it is necessary to explain propositions which express simply the definitions or axioms that have been before established. For example: we find in the elementary works on geometry this theorem: all the diameters of a circle are equal; and we must, if we would have beginners understand it, give a demonstrative form to that which neither is nor can be any thing more than an explanation, and is almost a repetition of the idea of the circle. When we describe a circle, we fix a point around which we revolve a line called the radius; since then the diameter is nothing more than the sum of two radii continued in the same right line, the mere enunciation of the theorem would seem sufficient to show that it is evidently contained in the idea of the circle, and is as a sort of repetition of the postulate, on which the construction of the curve is founded: still it is not so, and it must be explained as if it were a proof; we must show the diameter to be equal to two radii, these radii to be equal, and at times repeat that this is supposed in its construction: in a word, it is necessary to employ many conceptions to show a truth, which ought to have been known by the simple intuition of one alone, as is the case when the geometrical powers of the intellect have acquired a certain strength and robustness.
273. We may now appreciate at its just value, the opinion of Dugald Stewart, who, in his Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, says: "It may be fairly questioned, too, whether it can, with strict correctness, be said of the simple arithmetical equation, 2 plus 2 = 4, that it may be represented by the formula A = A. The one is a proposition asserting the equivalence of two different expressions; to ascertain which equivalence may, in numberless cases, be an object of the highest importance. The other is altogether unmeaning and nugatory, and cannot, by any possible supposition, admit of the slightest application of a practical nature. What opinion then shall we form of the proposition A = A, when considered as the representative of such a formula as the binomial theorem of Sir Isaac Newton? When applied to the equation 2 plus 2 = 4, (which in its extreme simplicity and familiarity is apt to be regarded in the light of an axiom:) the paradox does not appear to be so manifestly extravagant; but, in the other case, it seems quite impossible to annex to it any meaning whatever."[22] This philosopher does not observe that the pretended extravagance arises from his wrong interpretation of his adversaries' opinion. No one ever thought of denying the importance of the discoveries which prove different expressions equivalent: no one doubts that Newton's formula of the binomial is a great advance upon the formula A = A: but the question consists not in this, but in seeing whether Newton's formula of the binomial is any thing more than the expression of identical things; and whether even the merit of the expression is or is not the fruit of a series of perceptions of identity. Were the question presented under Dugald Stewart's point of view, it would be unworthy of discussion: for philosophy should not dispute upon things that are ridiculous as well as absurd.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.
274. We will now explain how the doctrine of identity is applied in general to all reasoning, whether upon mathematical objects or not: with this view we will examine some of the dialectical forms in which the art of reasoning is taught.
Every A is B; M is A: therefore M is B. In the major of this syllogism we find the identity of every A with B; and in the minor, the identity of M with B. In each of these propositions there is affirmation, and, consequently, perception of identity. Let us now see what takes place in the connection which constitutes the force of the argument.
Why do we say that M is B? Because M is A, and every A is B. M is one of the As, expressed in the words every A; therefore, when we say, M is A, we say only what we had before said by every A. What difference, then, is there? There is this difference, that in the expression every A, no attention is paid to one of A's contents, M, of which we had nevertheless affirmed that it was B, in affirming that every A is B. If, in the expression every A, we have distinctly seen M, the syllogism would not have been necessary, because, in saying every A is B, we had already understood that M is B.
This observation is so true and exact, that in treating of very clear relations we suppress the syllogism, and replace it with the enthymema, which is, it is true, an abbreviation of the syllogism; but we must see in this abbreviation besides a saving of words, a saving of conceptions, for the intellect sees one intuitively in the other, without necessity of decomposition. He is a man, therefore he is rational; we omit the major, and do not even think of it, for we intuitively see, in the idea of man, and its application to an individual, the idea of rational without any gradation of ideas or succession of conceptions.
Let us suppose that we have to demonstrate that the perimeter of a polygon inscribed in a circle is less than the circumference, and that we make the following syllogism: The sum of all the right lines inscribed in their respective curves is less than the sum of those curves; but the perimeter of the polygon is the sum of the right lines, and the circumference is the sum of the arcs or curves; therefore the inscribed perimeter is less than the circumference. We now ask, will any one who knows that the sum of the right lines is less than the sum of the curves, fail to see with equal facility that the perimeter is less than the circumscribed circumference, provided he understands the meaning of the words? It is evident that he will not. What necessity, then, of repeating the general principle? Is it to add any thing to the particular conception? Certainly not; because nothing can be clearer than the following propositions: the perimeter of the polygon is a sum of right lines; the circumference is a sum of arcs or curves; what the general principle does, is to call attention to a phase of the particular conception, so that what otherwise could not be seen in it may be seen on reflection. The certainty of the conclusion does not depend on the general principle; because, from thinking on the relations of greater and less only with respect to the right lines of the perimeter and the arcs, the sum of which forms the circumference, any one would have inferred the same thing.
This example also tends to prove that the enthymema is not a mere abbreviation of words; and it shows why we employ it in reasoning upon matters familiar to the understanding. In any one of the conceptions we see all that is necessary for the consequence; and, therefore, one premise suffices, as in it the other is included rather than understood. A beginner may say: the arc is greater than the chord, because the curve is greater than the right line; but when familiarized with geometrical ideas, he will simply say, the arc is greater than the chord; he will see the idea of the curve in that of the arc, and the idea of the right line in that of the chord, without need of decomposition. If the arc is greater than its chord, this is not because every curve is greater than the