The philosophy of B*rtr*nd R*ss*ll by Various
The philosophy of B*rtr*nd R*ss*ll by Various
The view that the fundamental principles of logic consist solely of the law of identity was held by Leibniz,[2] Drobisch, Uberweg,[3] and Tweedledee. Tweedledee, it may be remembered,[4] remarked that certain identities "are" logic. Now, there is some doubt as to whether he, like Jevons,[5] understood "are" to mean what mathematicians mean by "=," or, like Schr?der[6] and most logicians, to have the same meaning as the relation of subsumption.
The first alternative alone would justify our contention; and we may, I think, conclude from an opposition to authority that may have been indicated by Tweedledee's frequent use of the word "contrariwise" that he did not follow the majority of logicians, but held, like Jevons,[7] the mistaken[8] view that the quantification of the predicate is relevant to symbolic logic.
It may be mentioned, by the way, that it is probable that Humpty-Dumpty's "is" is the "is" of identity. In fact, it is not unlikely that Humpty-Dumpty was a Hegelian; for, although his ability for clear explanation may seem to militate against this, yet his inability to understand mathematics,[9] together with his synthesis of a cravat and a belt, which usually serve different purposes,[10] and his proclivity towards riddles seem to make out a good case for those who hold that he was in fact a Hegelian. Indeed, riddles are very closely allied to puns, and it was upon a pun, consisting of the confusion of the "is" of predication with the "is" of identity-so that, for example, "Socrates" was identified with "mortal" and more generally the particular with the universal-that Hegel's system of philosophy was founded.[11] But the question of Humpty-Dumpty's philosophical opinions must be left for final verification to the historians of philosophy: here I am only concerned with an a priori logical construction of what his views might have been if they formed a consistent whole.[12]
If the principle of identity were indeed the sole principle of logic, the principles of logic could hardly be said to be, as in fact they are, a body of propositions whose consistency it is impossible to prove.[13] This characteristic is important and one of the marks of the greatest possible security. For example, while a great achievement of late years has been to prove the consistency of the principles of arithmetic, a science which is unreservedly accepted except by some empiricists,[14] it can be proved formally that one foundation of arithmetic is shattered.[15] It is true that, quite lately, it has been shown that this conclusion may be avoided, and, by a re-moulding of logic, we can draw instead the paradoxical conclusion that the opinions held by common-sense for so many years are, in part, justified. But it is quite certain that, with the principles of logic, no such proof of consistency, and no such paradoxical result of further investigations is to be feared.
Still, this re-moulding has had the result of bringing logic into a fuller agreement with common-sense than might be expected. There were only two alternatives: if we chose principles in accordance with common-sense, we arrived at conclusions which shocked common-sense; by starting with paradoxical principles, we arrived at ordinary conclusions. Like the White Knight, we have dyed our whiskers an unusual colour and then hidden them.[16]
The quaint name of "Laws of Thought," which is often applied to the principles of Logic, has given rise to confusion in two ways: in the first place, the "Laws," unlike other laws, cannot be broken, even in thought; and, in the second place, people think that the "Laws" have something to do with holding for the operations of their minds, just as laws of nature hold for events in the world around us.[17] But that the laws are not psychological laws follows from the facts that a thing may be true even if nobody believes it, and something else may be false if everybody believes it. Such, it may be remarked, is usually the case.
Perhaps the most frequent instance of the assumption that the laws of logic are mental is the treatment of an identity as if its validity were an affair of our permission. Some people suggest to others that they should "let bygones be bygones." Another important piece of evidence that the truth of propositions has nothing to do with mind is given by the phrase "it is morally certain that such-and-such a proposition is true." Now, in the first place, morality, curiously enough, seems to be closely associated with mental acts: we have professorships and lectureships of, and examinations in, "mental and moral philosophy." In the second place, it is plain that a "morally certain" proposition is a highly doubtful one. Thus it is as vain to expect any information about our minds from a study of the "Laws of Thought" as it would be to expect a description of a certain social event from Miss E. E. C. Jones's book An Introduction to General Logic.
Fortunately, the principles or laws of Logic are not a matter of philosophical discussion. Idealists like Tweedledum and Tweedledee, and even practical idealists like the White Knight, explicitly accept laws like the law of identity and the excluded middle.[18] In fact, throughout all logic and mathematics, the existence of the human or any other mind is totally irrelevant; mental processes are studied by means of logic, but the subject-matter of logic does not presuppose mental processes, and would be equally true if there were no mental processes. It is true that, in that case, we should not know logic; but our knowledge must not be confounded with the truths which we know.[19] An apple is not confused with the eating of it except by savages, idealists, and people who are too hungry to think.
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[2] Russell, Ph. L., pp. 17, 19, 207-8.
[3] Schr?der, A. d. L., i. p. 4.
[4] See Appendix A. This Appendix also illustrates the importance attached to the Principle of Identity by the Professor and Bruno.
[5] S. o. S., pp. 9-15.
[6] A. d. L., i. p. 132.
[7] Cf., besides the reference in the last note but one, E. L. L., pp. 183, 191. "Contrariwise," it may be remarked, is not a term used in traditional logic.
[8] S. L., 1881, pp. 173-5, 324-5; 1894, pp. 194-6.
[9] Cf. Appendix C, and William Robertson Smith, "Hegel and the Metaphysics of the Fluxional Calculus," Trans. Roy. Soc., Edinb., vol. xxv., 1869, pp. 491-511.
[10] See Appendix B.
[11] [This is a remarkable anticipation of the note on pp. 39-40 of Mr. Russell's book, published about three years after the death of Mr. R*ss*ll, and entitled Our Knowledge of the External World as a Field for Scientific Method in Philosophy, Chicago and London, 1914.-Ed.]
[12] Cf. Ph. L., pp. v.-vi. 3.
[13] Cf. Pieri, R. M. M., March 1906, p. 199.
[14] As a type of these, Humpty-Dumpty, with his inability to admit anything not empirically given and his lack of comprehension of pure mathematics, may be taken (see Appendix C). In his (correct) thesis that definitions are nominal, too, Humpty-Dumpty reminds one of J. S. Mill (see Appendix D).
[15] See Frege, Gg., ii. p. 253.
[16] See Appendix E.
[17] See Frege, Gg., i. p. 15.
[18] See the above references and also Appendix F.
[19] Cf. B. Russell, H. J., July 1904, p. 812.
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Le Tour du Monde; d'Alexandrette au coude de l'Euphrate by Various
It was a grand success. Every one said so; and moreover, every one who witnessed the experiment predicted that the Mermaid would revolutionize naval warfare as completely as did the world-famous Monitor. Professor Rivers, who had devoted the best years of his life to perfecting his wonderful invention, struggling bravely on through innumerable disappointments and failures, undaunted by the sneers of those who scoffed, or the significant pity of his friends, was so overcome by his signal triumph that he fled from the congratulations of those who sought to do him honour, leaving to his young assistants the responsibility of restoring the marvellous craft to her berth in the great ship-house that had witnessed her construction. These assistants were two lads, eighteen and nineteen years of age, who were not only the Professor's most promising pupils, but his firm friends and ardent admirers. The younger, Carlos West Moranza, was the only son of a Cuban sugar-planter, and an American mother who had died while he was still too young to remember her. From earliest childhood he had exhibited so great a taste for machinery that, when he was sixteen, his father had sent him to the United States to be educated as a mechanical engineer in one of the best technical schools of that country. There his dearest chum was his class-mate, Carl Baldwin, son of the famous American shipbuilder, John Baldwin, and heir to the latter's vast fortune. The elder Baldwin had founded the school in which his own son was now being educated, and placed at its head his life-long friend, Professor Alpheus Rivers, who, upon his patron's death, had also become Carl's sole guardian. In appearance and disposition young Baldwin was the exact opposite of Carlos Moranza, and it was this as well as the similarity of their names that had first attracted the lads to each other. While the young Cuban was a handsome fellow, slight of figure, with a clear olive complexion, impulsive and rash almost to recklessness, the other was a typical Anglo-Saxon American, big, fair, and blue-eyed, rugged in feature, and slow to act, but clinging with bulldog tenacity to any idea or plan that met with his favour. He invariably addressed his chum as "West," while the latter generally called him "Carol."
Young Folks Treasury, Volume 2 (of 12) by Various
Embracing a Flash-Light Sketch of the Holocaust, Detailed Narratives by Participants in the Horror, Heroic Work of Rescuers, Reports of the Building Experts as to the Responsibility for the Wholesale Slaughter of Women and Children, Memorable Fires of the Past, etc., etc.
Young Folks Treasury, Volume 3 (of 12) by Various
For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"
Kristine planned to surprise her husband with a helicopter for their fifth anniversary, then learned the marriage had been a setup from day one. The man she called a husband never loved her-it was all one hell of a lie. She dropped the act, shed a lot of weight, and rebuilt herself, ready to make every bastard eat their words. After an impulsive remarriage, she accidentally exposed who she really was: a star designer and heir to a billion-dollar empire. And the bodyguard she'd hired was him all along! Who would've known, the "college student" she married turned out to be a feared underworld kingpin.
I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.
"Let's get married," Mia declares, her voice trembling despite her defiant gaze into Stefan's guarded brown eyes. She needs this, even if he seems untouchable. Stefan raises a skeptical brow. "And why would I do that?" His voice was low, like a warning, and it made her shiver even though she tried not to show it. "We both have one thing in common," Mia continues, her gaze unwavering. "Shitty fathers. They want to take what's ours and give it to who they think deserves it." A pointed pause hangs in the air. "The only difference between us is that you're an illegitimate child, and I'm not." Stefan studies her, the heiress in her designer armor, the fire in her eyes that matches the burn of his own rage. "That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child. "The only weapon they won't see coming." She steps closer, close enough for him to catch the scent of her perfume, gunpowder and jasmine. "Our fathers stole our birthrights. The sole reason they betrayed us. We join forces, create our own empire that'll bring down theirs." A beat of silence. Then, Stefan's mouth curves into something sharp. "One condition," he murmurs, closing the distance. "No divorces. No surrenders. If we're doing this, it's for life" "Deal" Mia said without missing a beat. Her father wants to destroy her life. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit. ................ Two shattered heirs. One deadly vow. A marriage built on revenge. Mia Meyers was born to rule her father's empire (so she thought), until he named his bastard son heir instead. Stefan Sterling knows the sting of betrayal too. His father discarded him like trash. Now the rivals' disgraced children have a poisonous proposal: Marry for vengeance. Crush their fathers' legacies. Never speak of divorce. Whoever cracks first loses everything. Can these two rivals, united by their vengeful hearts, pull off a marriage of convenience to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs? Or will their fathers' animosity, and their own complicated pasts tear their fragile alliance apart?
Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
Everyone in town knew Amelia had chased Jaxton for years, even etching his initials on her skin. When malicious rumors swarmed, he merely straightened his cuff links and ordered her to kneel before the woman he truly loved. Seething with realization, she slammed her engagement ring down on his desk and walked away. Not long after, she whispered "I do" to a billionaire, their wedding post crashing every feed. Panic cracked Jaxton. "She's using you to spite me," he spat. The billionaire just smiled. "Being her sword is my honor."
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