The Game of Logic — Text and Context

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In Category - Logic

Authors: Carroll, Lewis, 1832-1898 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2003 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Logic, Symbolic and mathematical; Logic -- Juvenile literature Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 17,053

Reading time 75 min

Text sections 5

The Game of Logic — Text and Context can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 17,053 words, 1 hr 15 min estimated reading time, and 5 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 13.6 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Logic, Symbolic and mathematical,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #4763

Lewis Carroll's playful introduction to symbolic logic uses a board game with colored counters to teach propositions, syllogisms, and fallacies. The book blends precise diagrams, whimsical verse, and a child-friendly tone, inviting readers to treat logic as an interactive puzzle rather than dry theory.

Editorial Edition Score 4.5/5

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg4763

Read the Text

"Light come, light go." _________

"Some new Cakes are nice." "No new Cakes are nice." "All new cakes are nice."

There are three 'PROPOSITIONS' for you--the only three kinds we are going to use in this Game: and the first thing to be done is to learn how to express them on the Board.

"Some new Cakes are nice."

But before doing so, a remark has to be made--one that is rather important, and by no means easy to understand all in a moment: so please to read this VERY carefully.

The world contains many THINGS (such as "Buns", "Babies", "Beetles". "Battledores". &c.); and these Things possess many ATTRIBUTES (such as "baked", "beautiful", "black", "broken", &c.: in fact, whatever can be "attributed to", that is "said to belong to", any Thing, is an Attribute). Whenever we wish to mention a Thing, we use a SUBSTANTIVE: when we wish to mention an Attribute, we use an ADJECTIVE. People have asked the question "Can a Thing exist without any Attributes belonging to it?" It is a very puzzling question, and I'm not going to try to answer it: let us turn up our noses, and treat it with contemptuous silence, as if it really wasn't worth noticing. But, if they put it the other way, and ask "Can an Attribute exist without any Thing for it to belong to?", we may say at once "No: no more than a Baby could go a railway-journey with no one to take care of it!" You never saw "beautiful" floating about in the air, or littered about on the floor, without any Thing to BE beautiful, now did you?

And now what am I driving at, in all this long rigmarole? It is this. You may put "is" or "are" between names of two THINGS (for example, "some Pigs are fat Animals"), or between the names of two ATTRIBUTES (for example, "pink is light-red"), and in each case it will make good sense. But, if you put "is" or "are" between the name of a THING and the name of an ATTRIBUTE (for example, "some Pigs are pink"), you do NOT make good sense (for how can a Thing BE an Attribute?) unless you have an understanding with the person to whom you are speaking. And the simplest understanding would, I think, be this--that the Substantive shall be supposed to be repeated at the end of the sentence, so that the sentence, if written out in full, would be "some Pigs are pink (Pigs)". And now the word "are" makes quite good sense.

Thus, in order to make good sense of the Proposition "some new Cakes are nice", we must suppose it to be written out in full, in the form "some new Cakes are nice (Cakes)". Now this contains two 'TERMS'--"new Cakes" being one of them, and "nice (Cakes)" the other. "New Cakes," being the one we are talking about, is called the 'SUBJECT' of the Proposition, and "nice (Cakes)" the 'PREDICATE'. Also this Proposition is said to be a 'PARTICULAR' one, since it does not speak of the WHOLE of its Subject, but only of a PART of it. The other two kinds are said to be 'UNIVERSAL', because they speak of the WHOLE of their Subjects--the one denying niceness, and the other asserting it, of the WHOLE class of "new Cakes". Lastly, if you would like to have a definition of the word 'PROPOSITION' itself, you may take this:--"a sentence stating that some, or none, or all, of the Things belonging to a certain class, called its 'Subject', are also Things belonging to a certain other class, called its 'Predicate'".

You will find these seven words--PROPOSITION, ATTRIBUTE, TERM, SUBJECT, PREDICATE, PARTICULAR, UNIVERSAL--charmingly useful, if any friend should happen to ask if you have ever studied Logic. Mind you bring all seven words into your answer, and you friend will go away deeply impressed--'a sadder and a wiser man'.

Now please to look at the smaller Diagram on the Board, and suppose it to be a cupboard, intended for all the Cakes in the world (it would have to be a good large one, of course). And let us suppose all the new ones to be put into the upper half (marked 'x'), and all the rest (that is, the NOT-new ones) into the lower half (marked 'x''). Thus the lower half would contain ELDERLY Cakes, AGED Cakes, ANTE-DILUVIAN Cakes--if there are any: I haven't seen many, myself--and so on. Let us also suppose all the nice Cakes to be put into the left-hand half (marked 'y'), and all the rest (that is, the not-nice ones) into the right-hand half (marked 'y''). At present, then, we must understand x to mean "new", x' "not-new", y "nice", and y' "not-nice."

Continue Reading →

Lewis Carroll opens The Game of Logic with a diagram of a board divided into compartments labeled with letters like x, y, m, and their negations, accompanied by a couplet about the sun shining “FULL and RED.” This visual and poetic framing immediately signals that logic will be treated as a spatial, playful activity. The preface insists the game needs “one Player, AT LEAST,” and contrasts this with cricket’s twenty-two, establishing a tone of gentle mockery toward more strenuous pursuits. Carroll’s voice is that of a patient, witty instructor who expects his reader to enjoy the puzzle as much as the lesson.

The Board as a Map of Propositions

The frontispiece diagram is not merely decorative; it is the core teaching tool. Carroll divides a square into sixteen cells, each labeled with coordinates like “9” or “14,” and overlays a smaller diagram for attributes x, y, and m. The counters—four red and five grey—are placed on cells to represent statements such as “All well-fed birds sing loud” or “No birds, that sing loud, are unhappy.” The physical act of placing counters on a grid turns abstract logical relations into a concrete, visual exercise. Carroll’s instructions for marking diagrams (e.g., “put a red counter in the cell that is both x and y”) force the reader to translate verbal propositions into spatial arrangements. This method makes the logic tangible, and the repeated references to the “small Diagram” and “large Diagram” create a systematic progression from simple to compound reasoning.

A Voice That Teases and Encourages

Carroll’s prose is laced with humor and direct address. In the preface, he notes that the game “will give the Players a little instruction as well,” adding, “But is there any great harm in THAT, so long as you get plenty of amusement?” This self-deprecating tone recurs throughout: the chapter titles—“New Lamps for Old,” “Cross Questions,” “Crooked Answers”—echo nursery rhymes and riddles. The verse dedication to “my Child-friend” uses a wistful, lyrical register (“I charm in vain; for never again…”) that contrasts with the crisp logical exercises. Carroll also includes a “NOTA BENE” offering a separate envelope of counters for threepence, and invites suggestions “especially from beginners in Logic.” These touches personalize the book, making the reader feel like a collaborator rather than a passive student.

Pacing Through Progressive Difficulty

The book’s structure mirrors a gradual climb in complexity. Chapter I introduces propositions, syllogisms, and fallacies in a brisk, theoretical style. Chapter II, “Cross Questions,” presents exercises that begin with simple diagram-marking (“Half of Smaller Diagram. Propositions to be represented”) and escalate to pairs of premisses requiring a conclusion. For instance, problem 13 reads: “No exciting books suit feverish patients; Unexciting books make one drowsy.” The reader must draw both a large and small diagram, then read off the conclusion. By problem 32, the premisses involve “passionate people” and “orators,” demanding careful translation into the x-y-m notation. This laddered approach—from single propositions to two-premiss syllogisms—ensures that each new skill builds on the previous one, while the whimsical subject matter (pigs, skeletons, muffins) keeps the exercises from feeling purely mechanical.

Readers should approach The Game of Logic as a hands-on manual: have counters or paper markers ready, and work through the diagrams step by step. Carroll’s playful examples—such as “All medicine is nasty; Senna is a medicine”—are designed to amuse while teaching, but the underlying system is rigorous. Pay attention to the shift from the introductory verse to the terse problem sets; the change in pace mirrors the transition from inspiration to practice. The book rewards patience and a willingness to treat logic as a game of placement and elimination.

This morning, holding The Game of Logic, I remembered my grandfather’s checkers board, how he’d let me move pieces before I understood rules, trusting the pattern to teach me. Years later, Man or Matter Introduction to a Spiritual Understanding of Nature on the Basis of Goethe's Method of Training Observation and Thought — Edition Insights gave me that same patient quiet—not answers, but a way of attending to what’s already there, waiting to be seen properly.