n
the objectors to logic make it a subject of complaint, that in a
syllogism the premises do virtually assert the conclusion, it follows
at once that no new truth (as above defined) can be elicited by any
process of reasoning.

"It is on this ground, indeed, that the justly celebrated author of
the _Philosophy of Rhetoric_ objects to the syllogism altogether, as
necessarily involving a _petitio principii_; an objection which, of
course, he would not have been disposed to bring forward, had he
perceived that, whether well or ill founded, _it lies against all
arguments whatever_. Had he been aware that the syllogism is no
distinct kind of argument otherwise than in form, but is, in fact,
_any_ argument whatever stated regularly and at full length, he would
have obtained a more correct view of the object of all reasoning;
_which is merely to expand and unfold the assertions wrapt up, as it
were, and implied in those with which we set out_, and to bring a
person to perceive and acknowledge the full force of that which he has
admitted; to contemplate it in various points of view; _to admit in
one shape what he has already admitted in another_, and to give up and
disallow whatever is inconsistent with it."--P. 273.

Now, what the Archbishop here advances appears convincing; his
position looks impregnable. The syllogism is not a peculiar mode of
reasoning, (how could it be?)--if any thing at all, it must be a
general formula for expressing the ordinary act of reasoning--and he
shows that the objections made by those who would impugn it, may be
levelled with equal justice against all ratiocination whatever. But
then this method of defending the syllogism, (to those of us who have
stood beside, in the character of modest enquirers, watching the
encounter of keen wits,) does but aggravate the difficulty. Is it
true, then, that in every act of reasoning, we do but conclude in one
form, what, the moment before, we had stated in another? Are we to
understand that such is the final result of the debate? If so, this
act of reasoning appears very little deserving of that estimation in
which it has been generally held. The great prerogative of intelligent
beings (as it has been deemed,) grants them this only--to "admit in
one shape what they had already admitted in another."

From the dilemma in which we are here placed, the Archbishop by no
means releases, or attempts to release us: he seems (something too
much after the manner and