h. Judgment is consciousness of the identity or difference and of the causal relations of the given; naming the actual combinations of the data, but also requiring a priori categories of the understanding, the notions of identity, difference and causality, as principles of thought or laws, to combine the plurality of the given into a unity (Schuppe).
i. Judgment is the act which refers an ideal content recognized as such to a reality beyond the act, predicating an idea of a reality, a what of a that; so that the subject is reality and the predicate the meaning of an idea, while the judgment refers the idea to reality by an identity of content (Bradley and Bosanquet).
k. Judgment is an assertion of reality, requiring comparison and ideas which render it directly expressible in words (Hobhouse, mainly following Bradley).
These theories are of varying value in proportion to their proximity to Aristotle’s point that predication is about things, and to Mill’s point that judgments and propositions are about things, not about ideas. The essence of judgment is belief that something is (or is not) determined, either as existing (e.g. “I am,” “A centaur is not”) or as something in particular (e.g. “I am a man,” “I am not a monkey”). Neither Mill, however, nor any of the later logicians whose theories we have quoted, has been able quite to detach judgment from conception; they all suppose that an idea, or ideas, is a condition of all judgment. But judgment starts from sensation (Empfindung) and feeling (Gefühl), and not from idea (Vorstellung). When I feel pleased or pained, or when I use my senses to perceive a pressure, a temperature, a flavour, an odour, a colour, a sound, or when I am conscious of feeling and perceiving, I cannot resist the belief that something sensible is present; and this belief that something exists is already a judgment, a judgment of existence, and, so far as it is limited to sense without inference, a true judgment. It is a matter of words whether or not we should call this sensory belief a judgment; but it is no matter of choice to the logician, who regards all the constituents of inference as judgments; for the fundamental constituents are sensory beliefs, which are therefore judgments in the logical sense. Sense is the evidence of inference; directly of analogical and inductive, directly or indirectly of deductive, inference; and therefore, if logic refuses to include sensory beliefs among judgments, it will omit the fundamental constituents of inference, inference will no longer consist of judgments but of sensory beliefs plus judgments, and the second part of logic, the logic of judgment, the purpose of which is to investigate the constituents of inference, will be like Hamlet without the prince of Denmark. If, on the other hand, all the constituents of inference are judgments, there are judgments of sense; and the evidence of the senses means that a judgment of sense is true, while a judgment of inference is true so far as it is directly or indirectly concluded from judgments of sense. Now a sensory judgment, e.g. that a sensible pressure is existing, is explained by none of the foregoing theories, because it requires nothing but sensation and belief. It requires no will, but is usually involuntary, for the stimulus forces one’s attention, which is not always voluntary; not all judgment then requires will, as Wundt supposes. It requires no reference to reality beyond the sensible pressure, because it is merely a belief that this exists without inference of the external stimulus or any inference at all: not all judgment then requires the reference of subjective to objective supposed by Ueberweg, or the consciousness of logical necessity supposed by Sigwart. It requires in addition to the belief that something exists, no consideration as to whether the belief itself be true, because a man who feels pressure believes in the thing without further question about the belief: not all judgment then requires a decision of validity, as Bergmann supposes. It requires nothing beyond the sensation and belief in the given existence of the given pressure: not all judgment then requires categories of understanding, or notions of identity, difference and causality, or even of existence, such as Schuppe supposes. It requires no comparison in order to express it in words, for a judgment need not be expressed, and a sensory judgment of pressure is an irresistible belief that a real pressure exists, without waiting for words, or for a comparison which is wanted not to make a sensation a judgment, but to turn a judgment into language: not all judgment then requires comparison with a view to its expression, as supposed by Hobhouse. Lastly, all the authors of the above-quoted theories err in supposing that all judgment requires conception; for even Mill thinks a combination of ideas necessary, and Brentano, who comes still nearer to the nature of sensory judgment when he says, “Every perception counts for a judgment,” yet thinks that an idea is necessary at the same time in order to understand the thing judged. In reality, the sensation and the belief are sufficient; when I feel a sensible pressure, I cannot help believing in its reality, and therefore judging that it is real, without any tertium quid—an idea of pressure, or of existence or of pressure existing—intervening between the sensation and the belief. Only after sensation has ceased does an idea, or representation of what is not presented, become necessary as a substitute for a sensation and as a condition not of the first judgment that there is, but of a second judgment that there was, something sensible. Otherwise there would be no judgment of sensible fact, for the first sensation would not give it, and the idea following the sensation would be still farther off. The sensory judgment then, which is nothing but a belief that at the moment of sense something sensible exists, is a proof that not all judgment requires conception, or synthesis or analysis of ideas, or decision about the content, or about the validity, of ideas, or reference of an ideal content to reality, as commonly, though variously, supposed in the logic of our day.
Not, however, that all judgment is sensory: after the first judgments of sense follow judgments of memory, and memory requires ideas. Yet memory is not mere conception, as Aristotle, and Mill after him, have perceived. To remember, we must have a present idea; but we must also have a belief that the thing, of which the idea is a representation, was (or was not) determined; and this belief is the memorial judgment. Originally such judgments arise from sensory judgments followed by ideas, and are judgments of memory after sense that something sensible existed, e.g. pressure existed: afterwards come judgments of memory after inference, e.g. Caesar was murdered. Finally, most judgments are inferential. These are conclusions which primarily are inferred from sensory and memorial judgments; and so far as inference starts from sense of something sensible in the present, and from memory after sense of something sensible in the past, and concludes similar things, inferential judgments are indirect beliefs in being and in existence beyond ideas. When from the sensible pressures between the parts of my mouth, which I feel and remember and judge that they exist and have existed, I infer another similar pressure (e.g. of the food which presses and is pressed by my mouth in eating), the inferential judgment with which I conclude is a belief that the latter exists as well as the former (e.g. the pressure of food without as well as the sensible pressures within). Inference, no doubt, is closely involved with conception. So far as it depends on memory, an inferential judgment presupposes memorial ideas in its data; and so far as it infers universal classes and laws, it produces general ideas. But even so the part played by conception is quite subordinate to that of belief. In the first place, the remembered datum, from which an inference of pressure starts, is not the conceived idea, but the belief that the sensible pressure existed. Secondly, the conclusion in which it ends is not the general idea of a class, but the belief that a class, represented by a general idea, exists, and is (or is not) otherwise determined (e.g. that things pressing and pressed exist and move). Two things are certain about inferential judgment: one, that when inference is based on sense and memory, inferential judgment starts from a combination of sensory and memorial judgment, both of which are beliefs that things exist; the other, that in consequence inferential judgment is a belief that similar things exist. There are thus three primary judgments: judgments of sense, of memory after sense, and of inference from sense. All these are beliefs in being and existence, and this existential belief is first in sense, and afterwards transferred to memory and inference. Moreover, it is transferred in the same irresistible way: frequently we cannot help either feeling pressure, or remembering it, or inferring it; and as there are involuntary sensation and attention, so there are involuntary memory and inference. Again, in a primary judgment existence need not be expressed; but if expressed, it may be expressed either by the predicate, e.g. “I exist,” or by the subject, e.g. “I who exist think.” There are indeed differences between primary judgments, in that the sensory is a belief in present, the memorial in past, and the inferential in present, past and future existence. But these differences in detail do not alter the main point that all these are beliefs in the existing, in the real as opposed to the ideal, in actual things which are not ideas. In short, a primary judgment is a belief in something existing apart from our idea of it; and not because we have an idea of it, or by comparing an idea with, or referring an idea to, reality; but because we have a sensation of it, or a memory of it or an inference of it. Sensation, not conception, is the origin of judgment.
2. Different Significations of Being in different Kinds of Judgment.—As Aristotle remarked both in the De Interpretatione and in the Sophistici Elenchi, “not-being is thinkable” does not mean “not-being exists.” In the latter treatise he added that it is a fallacia a dicto secundum quid ad dictum simpliciter to argue from the former to the latter; “for,” as he says, “it is not the same thing to be something and to exist absolutely.” Without realizing their debt to tradition, Herbart, Mill and recently Sigwart, have repeated Aristotle’s separation of the copula from the verb of existence, as if it were a modern discovery that “is” is not the same as “exists.” It may be added that they do not quite realize what the copula exactly signifies: it does not signify existence, but it does signify a fact, namely, that something is (or is not) determined, either absolutely in a categorical judgment, or conditionally in a conditional judgment. Now we have seen that all primary judgments signify more than this fact; they are also beliefs in the existence of the thing signified by the subject. But, in the first place, primary judgments signify this existence never by the copula, but sometimes by the predicate, and sometimes by the subject; and, secondly, it does not follow that all judgments whatever signify existence. Besides inference of existence there is inference of non-existence, of things inconsistent with the objects of primary judgments. Hence secondary judgments, which no longer contain a belief that the thing exists, e.g. the judgment, “not-being is thinkable,” cited by Aristotle; the judgment, “A square circle is impossible,” cited by Herbart; the judgment, “A centaur is a fiction of the poets,” cited by Mill. These secondary judgments of non-existence are partly like and partly unlike primary judgments of existence. They resemble them in that they are beliefs in being signified by the copula. They are beliefs in things of a sort; for, after all, ideas and names are things; their objects, even though non-existent, are at all events things conceivable or nameable; and therefore we are able to make judgments that things, non-existent but conceivable or nameable, are (or are not) determined in a particular manner. Thus the judgment about a centaur is the belief, “A conceivable centaur is a fiction of the poets,” and the judgment about a square circle is the belief, “A so-called square circle is an impossibility.” But, though beliefs that things of some sort are (or are not) determined, these secondary judgments fall short of primary judgments of existence. Whereas in a primary judgment there is a further belief, signified by subject or predicate, that the thing is an existing thing in the sense of being a real thing (e.g. a man), different from the idea of it as well as from the name for it; in a secondary judgment there is no further belief that the thing has any existence beyond the idea (e.g. a centaur), or even beyond the name (e.g. a square circle): though the idea or name exists, there is no belief that anything represented by idea or name exists. Starting, then, from this fundamental distinction between judgments of existence and judgments of non-existence, we may hope to steer our way between two extreme views which emanate from two important thinkers, each of whom has produced a flourishing school of psychological logic.
On the one hand, early in the 19th century Herbart started the view that a categorical judgment is never a judgment of existence, but always hypothetical; on the other hand, in the latter part of the century Brentano started the view that all categorical judgments are existential. The truth lies between these contraries. The view of Herbart and his school is contradicted by our primary judgments of and from sense, in which we cannot help believing existence; and it gives an inadequate account even of our secondary judgments in which we no longer indeed believe existence, but do frequently believe that a non-existent thing is (or is not) somehow determined unconditionally. It is true, as Herbart says, that the judgment, “A square circle is an impossibility,” does not contain the belief, “A square circle is existent”; but when he goes on to argue that it means, “If a square circle is thought, the conception of impossibility must be added in thought,” he falls into a non-sequitur. To be categorical, a judgment does not require a belief in existence, but only that something, existent or not, is (or is not) determined; and there are two quite different attitudes of mind even to a non-existent thing, such as a square circle, namely, unconditional and conditional belief. The judgment, “A non-existent but so-called square circle is an impossibility,” is an unconditional, or categorical judgment of non-existence, quite different from any hypothetical judgment, which depends on the conditions “if it is thought,” or “if it exists,” or any other “if.” On the other hand, the view of Brentano and his school is contradicted by these very categorical judgments of non-existence; and while it applies only to categorical judgments of existence, it does so inadequately. To begin with the latter objection, Brentano proposed to change the four Aristotelian forms of judgment, A, E, I, O, into the following existential forms:—
A. “There is not an immortal man.”
E. “There is not a live stone.”
I. “There is a sick man.”