A System of Logic, Ratiocinative and Inductive (Vol. 1 of 2)
John Stuart Mill · en
According to this language, every well-grounded inductive generalization
is either a law of nature, or a result of laws of nature, capable, if
those laws are known, of being predicted from them. And the problem of
Inductive Logic may be summed up in two questions: how to ascertain the
laws of nature; and how, after having ascertained them, to follow them
into their results. On the other hand, we must not suffer ourselves to
imagine that this mode of statement amounts to a real analysis, or to
anything but a mere verbal transformation of the problem; for the
expression, Laws of Nature, _means_ nothing but the uniformities which
exist among natural phenomena (or, in other words, the results of
induction), when reduced to their simplest expression. It is, however,
something, to have advanced so far, as to see that the study of nature is
the study of laws, not _a_ law; of uniformities, in the plural number:
that the different natural phenomena have their separate rules or modes of
taking place, which, though much intermixed and entangled with one
another, may, to a certain extent, be studied apart: that (to resume our
former metaphor) the regularity which exists in nature is a web composed
of distinct threads, and only to be understood by tracing each of the
threads separately; for which purpose it is often necessary to unravel
some portion of the web, and exhibit the fibres apart. The rules of
experimental inquiry are the contrivances for unravelling the web.
§ 2. In thus attempting to ascertain the general order of nature by
ascertaining the particular order of the occurrence of each one of the
phenomena of nature, the most scientific proceeding can be no more than an
improved form of that which was primitively pursued by the human
understanding, while undirected by science. When mankind first formed the
idea of studying phenomena according to a stricter and surer method than
that which they had in the first instance spontaneously adopted, they did
not, conformably to the well meant but impracticable precept of Descartes,
set out from the supposition that nothing had been already ascertained.
Many of the uniformities existing among phenomena are so constant, and so
open to observation, as to force themselves upon involuntary recognition.
Some facts are so perpetually and familiarly accompanied by certain
others, that mankind learnt, as children learn, to expect the one where
they found the other, long before they knew how to put their expectation
into words by asserting, in a proposition, the existence of a connexion
between those phenomena. No science was needed to teach that food
nourishes, that water drowns, or quenches thirst, that the sun gives light
and heat, that bodies fall to the ground. The first scientific inquirers
assumed these and the like as known truths, and set out from them to
discover others which were unknown: nor were they wrong in so doing,
subject, however, as they afterwards began to see, to an ulterior revision