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.
That the author has here fallen into error seems to me partly explicable from the fact that in order to proceed with the utmost caution and lay claim to no unwarrantable example, he has not ventured to regard certain propositions as subjectless, which, in truth, really are so. We saw that Miklosich expressed the view that the finite verb of subjectless propositions always stands in the third person of the singular, and, when the form admits a difference of gender, in the neuter. This was certainly too narrow a limit, a limit which he himself transgresses, though this appears in a much later passage. In the second part of his treatise he says: “In ‘es ist ein Gott,’ the notion ‘Gott’ is affirmed absolutely without a subject, and this is also the case in the proposition ‘es sind Götter’ ”; and he adds: The “ist” of the existential proposition takes the place of the so-called copula “ist,” which in many, though by no means in all, languages, is indispensable to the expression of the judgment, and has the same significance as the termination of person in the finite verb as is clearly shown in the proposition “es ist Sommer, es ist Nacht” alongside the propositions, “es sommert, es nachtet.” “Ist” is accordingly not a predicate (p. 34; cf. also p. 21 above). As a matter of fact, if the proposition, “es giebt einen Gott,” is to be considered subjectless, so also must the proposition, “es ist ein Gott,” and therefore also, “es sind Götter”; and thus the rule previously laid down has proved to be too narrow. That the existential propositions and other analogous forms, which may be found, are all to be reckoned as subjectless propositions may serve to confirm what we have sought to show above, i.e. that no language exists, or can exist, which entirely dispenses with these simplest forms of propositions. Only certain special kinds of subjectless propositions therefore, am I able, with Miklosich, to recognize as the peculiar advantage of certain languages.
These are the criticisms which I have thought it necessary to make. It will be seen that, if found to be justified, they do not in the slightest degree prejudice either the correctness or the value of the author’s main argument, but rather lend to it a still wider significance. And so I conclude by expressing once again the wish that this suggestive little work, which, on its first appearance did not meet with sufficient general recognition, may in its second edition—where individual points have been corrected, much extended, and particularly the critical objections of scholars like Benfey, Steinthal and others, refuted with a laconic brevity, yet rare dialectical power—find that interest which the importance of the inquiry and its excellent treatment deserve.