Part III, Chapter 16: Of Dilemmas
WE may define a dilemma to be a compound reasoning, in which, after having divided a whole into its parts, we conclude affirmatively or negatively of the whole, what we had concluded of each part.
I say, what we had concluded of each part, and not simply what we had affirmed of it; for that alone is truly a dilemma, where what we say of each part is supported by its special reason.
For example, having to prove that we cannot be happy in this world, we may do it by this dilemma:—We can only be happy in this world by abandoning ourselves to our passions, or by combating them; If we abandon ourselves to them, this is an unhappy state, since it is disgraceful, and we could never be content with it;
If we combat them, this is also an unhappy state, since there is nothing more painful than that inward war which we are continually obliged to carry on with ourselves;
We cannot, therefore, have in this life true happiness. If we wish to prove, that bishops who do not labour for the salvation of the souls committed to their care, are without excuse before God, we may do so by a dilemma:—Either they are capable of that office, or they are incapable;
If they are capable, they are without excuse for not fulfilling it;
If they are incapable, they are without excuse for having undertaken an office so important, when they were unable to perform its duties;
And consequently, however this may be, they are without excuse before God, if they do not labour for the salvation of the souls committed to their care. But other observations may be made on these kinds of reasonings: —
The first is, that we do not always express all the propositions which enter into them. For example, the dilemma we are about to give is contained in these few words of a speech of St Charles on entering one of the provincial councils, Si tanto muneri impares, cur tam ambitiosi; si pares, cur tam negligentes.
Thus, also, there are many things understood in that celebrated dilemma, by which an ancient philosopher proved that we ought not to meddle with the affairs of the republic: —
If we manage them well, we shall offend men; If we manage them ill, we shall offend the gods; Therefore we ought not to engage in them.
Of the same kind is that by which another proved that it was best not to marry:—If the wife you espouse be beautiful, she excites jealousy; If she be ugly, she disgusts; Therefore it is best not to marry.
For in both these dilemmas the proposition which should contain the separation is understood; and this is very common, since it is easily understood, being sufficiently indicated by the particular propositions in which each part is treated of.
And, moreover, in order that the conclusion be contained in the premises, it is always necessary to understand something general, which may belong to the whole, as in the first example: —
If we manage them well, we offend men, which is injurious; If we manage them ill, we offend the gods, which is also injurious; Therefore, it is injurious in every way to engage in the affairs of the republic.
This caution is very important in order to judge well of the force of a dilemma. For that, for example, which renders the one above inconclusive is, that it is not injurious to offend men, since we must only avoid offending God.
The second observation is, that a dilemma may be vicious, principally through two defects.
One, when the disjunctive on which it is founded is defective, as not comprehending all the members of the whole which we divide.
Thus the dilemma against marrying is not conclusive, since there may be wives which are not so beautiful as to awaken jealousy, or so ugly as to disgust.
For the same reason, that dilemma is very false which the ancient philosophers employed against the fear of death. Either our soul, said they, perishes with the body, and thus, having no feeling, we shall be incapable of any evil; or, if the soul survives the body, it will be more happy than it was in the body; therefore death is not to be feared. For, as Montaigne has very wisely remarked, it was great blindness not to see that there might be conceived between these a third state, which is, that the soul, surviving the body, will find itself in a state of torment and misery, which would give us just ground of apprehension in relation to death, from the fear of falling into that state.
Another defect which renders dilemmas inconclusive, emerges when the particular conclusions of each part are not necessary. Thus, it is not necessary that a beautiful wife should occasion jealousy, because she may be so wise and virtuous that there is no room to doubt of her fidelity. It is not necessary, either, that, being ugly, she should displease her husband, since she may have other qualities of mind and of character, so valuable that she cannot but please him.
The third observation is, that he who employs a dilemma must take care that it may not be turned against himself. Thus Aristotle testifies, that the dilemma by which the philosopher endeavoured to prove that one ought not to engage in state affairs, was turned upon himself, thus: —
If ice govern according to the corrupt rules of men, we shall please them;
If we maintain true justice, we shall please the gods;
Therefore we ought to engage in them.
This retort, however, was not wise; for it is not advantageous to please men by offending God.