Fundamental Philosophy, Vol. 2 (of 2)

CHAPTER I.

CURSORY VIEW OF SENSISM

1. Having spoken of sensations, we come now to ideas. We must, however, before making this transition, inquire if there be in our mind ought else than sensation, if all the inward phenomena which we experience be ought else than sensations transformed.

Man, when he rises from the sphere of sensations, from those phenomena which place him in relation with the external world, meets a new order of phenomena, of whose presence he is equally conscious. He cannot reflect upon sensations without being conscious of something more than sensation; nor on the recollection or the inward representation of sensations, without discovering something distinct both from the recollection and from the representation.

2. According to Aristotle, there is nothing in the understanding which has not first been in the senses; and the schools have for long ages re-echoed this thought of the philosopher: nihil est in intellectu quod prius non fuerit in sensu. The order, therefore, of human knowledge, is from the external to the internal. Descartes pretended that we ought to invert this order, and proceed from the internal to the external. Malebranche, his disciple, went farther, and was of opinion that the understanding, enfolded in itself, should hold only the least possible intercourse with the external world. According to him, no atmosphere is so fatal to intellectual health as that of the world of the senses; sensations are an inexhaustible fountain of error, and the imagination is an enchantress only the more dangerous because she has fixed her dwelling at the very portal of the intellect, which, with her seductive beauty and gorgeous ornaments, she hopes to rule at her pleasure.

3. Locke strove to rehabilitate the old Aristotelian maxim, joined, however, to the criterion of observation: besides sensation he admitted only reflection, but he taught that the mind was endowed with innate faculties. His disciple, Condillac, not satisfied with this, taught that all the actions of our mind were simply sensations transformed: instead of distinguishing with Locke two sources of our ideas, the senses and reflection, he thought it more exact to admit only one, as well because reflection is in its root only sensation, as because it is rather the channel by which ideas originating in the senses pass, than their source.

Judgment, reflection, desires, and passions are in Condillac's estimation nothing else than sensation transformed in various modes. It seemed to him, therefore, very idle to suppose the mind to have received immediately from nature the faculties with which it is endowed. Nature has given us organs which show us by pleasure or pain what we ought to seek or to avoid; but here she stops, and leaves to experience the task of leading us to contract habits and finish the work she has commenced.1

4. In view of this system, in which not even natural faculties are conceded to the soul, and those which it does possess are considered as only simple effects of sensation, it is worthy of remark how soon its author contradicts himself; for, almost in the same breath, he professes to be an occasionalist, and pretends that the impressions of our organization are nothing more than the occasion of our sensations. Can there be a natural faculty more inexplicable than that of placing one's self in relation with objects which do not produce sensations, but are only the occasion of their production. If such a faculty as this be conceded to the mind, why may we not admit others? Is not that a very singular natural faculty which perceives by means of causes operating only occasionally? In this case, is there not attributed to the mind a natural faculty of producing sensations on occasion of organic impressions, or is it not supposed to be an immediate relation with another and superior being which produces them? Why may not this internal activity, this receptivity, apply itself to ideas? Why must not other innate faculties be conceded to the mind? And why does he pretend not to suppose them, when his whole argument is based upon the supposition of their existence?

Hostile as he professes to be to hypotheses and systems, Condillac is eminently addicted both to systems and hypotheses. He imagines an origin and a nature of ideas of his own, and to them he insists that every thing must conform. To give a better idea of Condillac's opinions, and to combat them at once successfully and loyally, we will briefly analyze the groundwork of his Treatise on Sensations, the book on which he most prides himself, and in which he flatters himself to have given to his doctrine its highest degree of clearness and certainty.

CHAPTER II.

CONDILLAC'S STATUE

5. Condillac supposes a statue, which he animates successively with each of the senses: then beginning with the sense of smell, he says; "So long as our statue is limited to the sense of smell, its knowledge cannot go beyond odors; it can neither have any idea of extension, of space, or of any thing beyond itself, nor of other sensations, such as color, sound, taste."2 If, according to the conditions of the supposition, all activity and every faculty be denied to this statue, it certainly can have no other idea or sensation, and it may be added that even its sensation of smell will be for it no idea.

"If we present it a rose," continues Condillac, "to us it will be a statue which smells a rose; but for itself it will be only the smell of a rose. It will then be the smell of the rose, the pink, the jasmine, or the violet, according to the objects which operate upon its organ; in a word, with respect to it, these odors are only its own modifications and manners of being, and it cannot believe itself any thing else, since these are the only sensations of which it is susceptible."

6. It is very obvious that at the first step, the statue must take a great leap. Close upon the apparent simplicity of the sensible phenomenon, reflection, one of those acts which suppose the intellect already well developed, is introduced. First the statue believes itself something; it believes itself the odor; next consciousness of itself in relation to the impression it has just received, is attributed to it; then it is made to form a kind of judgment, whereby it affirms the identity of itself with the sensation. This, however, is impossible, unless we have something besides bare sensation; but we neither have nor can have at this stage any thing beyond this purely passive impression, an isolated phenomenon, upon which there can be no reflection of any kind whatever; and the statue can have no other reflection of itself than this sensation, which in the reflective order has no title to be so called. Condillac's hypothesis rigorously applied, presents only a phenomenon leading to nothing; and the moment he leaves sensation to develop it, he admits an activity in the mind distinct and very different from sensation, which destroys his whole system.

The statue confined to the sensation of smell will never believe itself smell; such a belief is a judgment, and supposes comparison, no trace of which can be discovered in the sensible phenomenon, considered in all its purity, as Condillac requires in his hypothesis. He begins his analytical investigations by introducing conditions which he at the same time supposes to be eliminated. He undertakes to explain every thing by sensation alone, and his first step is to amalgamate sensation with operations of a very different order.

7. Condillac calls the capacity of feeling, when applied to the impression received, attention. So if there be but one sensation, there can be but one attention. If various sensations succeeding each other leave some trace in the memory of the statue, the attention will, when a new sensation is presented, be divided between the present and the past. The attention directed at one and the same time to two sensations becomes comparison. Similarities and differences are perceived by comparison, and this perception is a judgment. All this is done with sensations alone; therefore attention, memory, comparison, and judgment are nothing but sensations transformed. In appearance nothing clearer, more simple, or more ingenuous; in reality nothing more confused or false.

8. First of all, this definition of attention is not exact. The capacity of feeling, by the very fact of being in exercise, is applied to the impression. It does not feel when the sensitive faculty is not in exercise, and this is not in exercise except when applied to the impression. Consequently, attention would be nothing but the act of feeling; all sensation would be attention, and all attention sensation; a meaning which no one ever yet gave to these words.

9. Attention is the application of the mind to something; and this application supposes the exercise of an activity concentrated upon its object. Properly speaking, when the mind holds itself entirely passive, it is not attentive; and with respect to sensations it is attentive when by a reflex act we know that we feel. Without this cognition there can be no attention, but only sensation more or less active, according to the degree in which it affects our sensibility. If Condillac means to call the more vivid sensation attention, the word is improperly used; for it ordinarily happens that they who feel with the greatest vividness are precisely those who are distinguished for their want of attention. Sensation is the affection of a passive faculty; attention is the exercise of an activity; and hence it is that brutes do not participate of it except inasmuch as they possess a principle of activity to direct their sensitive faculties to a determinate object.

10. Is the perception of the difference of the smell of the rose and that of the pink a sensation? If we are answered that it is not, we infer that the judgment is not the sensation transformed; for it is not even a sensation. If we are told that it is one sensation, we then observe that if it be either that of the rose or that of the pink, it follows that with one alone of these sensations we shall have comparative perception, which is absurd. If we are answered that it is both together, we must either interpret this expression rigorously, and then we shall have a sensation which will at once be that of the pink and that of the rose, the one remaining distinct from the other so as to satisfy the conditions of comparison; or we must interpret it so as to mean that the two sensations are united; in which case we gain nothing, for the difficulty will be to show how co-existence produces comparison, and judgment, or the perception of the difference.

The sensation of the pink is only that of the pink, and that of the rose only that of the rose. The instant you attempt to compare them, you suppose in the mind an act by which it perceives the difference; and if you attribute to it any thing more than pure sensation, you add a faculty distinct from sensation, namely that of comparing sensations, and appreciating their similarities and differences.

11. This comparison, this intellectual force, which calls the two extremes into a common arena, without confounding them, discovers the points in which they are alike or unlike each other, and, as it were, comes in and decides between them, is distinct from the sensation; it is the effect of an activity of a different order, and its development must depend on sensations as exciting causes, as a condition sine qua non; but this is all it has to do with sensations themselves; it is essentially distinct from them, and cannot be confounded with them without destroying the idea of comparison, and rendering it impossible.

No judgment is possible without the ideas of identity or similarity, and these ideas are not sensations. Sensations are particular facts which never leave their own sphere, nor can be applied from one thing to another. The ideas of similarity and identity have something in common applicable to many facts.

12. What next happens to a being limited to the faculty of experiencing various sensations? It will receive without comparing them. It is certain that when it feels in one manner it will not feel in another, that one sensation is not another; but this sensitive being will take no notice of the variety. Sensations will succeed sensations, but will not be compared with each other. Even supposing them to be remembered, the memory of them will be nothing more than a less intense repetition of the same sensations. If it be admitted that this sensitive being compares them, and perceives their relations of identity or distinction, of similarity or difference, a series of reflex acts are admitted which are not sensations.

13. Nor can the memory, properly so called, of sensations, be explained by them alone; and here again Condillac is wrong. The statue may recollect to-day the sensation of the smell of the rose which it received yesterday, and this recollection may exist in two ways: first, by the internal reproduction of the sensation without any external cause, or relation to time past, and consequently without any relation to the prior existence of a similar sensation; and then this recollection is not for the statue a recollection properly so called, but only a sensation more or less vivid: secondly, by an internal reproduction with relation to the existence of the same or another similar sensation at a preceding time, in which recollection essentially consists; and here there is something more than sensation; here are the ideas of succession, time, priority, and identity, or similarity, all distinct and separable from sensation.

Two entirely distinct sensations may be referred to the same time in the memory; and then the time will be identical, and the sensations distinct. The sensation may exist without any recollection of the time it before existed, or even without any recollection of having ever existed; consequently, sensation involves no relation of time; they are distinct and very different matters, and Condillac deceives himself when he undertakes to explain the memory of sensations by mere sensations.

14. These reflections utterly refute Condillac's system. Either he admits something besides sensation or he does not; if he does, he violates his own original supposition; if he does not, he cannot explain any abstract idea, nor even the sensitive memory: he will therefore be obliged to admit with Locke reflection upon sensations, and for the same reason, other faculties of the soul.

15. It is easy to comprehend why certain philosophers have maintained that all our ideas come from the senses, if we understand them to mean that sensations awaken our internal activity, and, so to speak, supply the intellect with materials: but it is not so easy to see how it can be advanced as a certain, clear, and exceedingly simple truth that there is in our mind nothing but these materials, these sensations. We have only to fix our attention for a moment upon what passes within us to discover many phenomena distinct from sensation, and various faculties which have nothing to do with sensation. If Condillac had been satisfied with maintaining that these faculties needed sensation as a kind of excitement in order to be developed, he would have advanced nothing contrary to sound philosophy: but for him to pretend that all that is excited and all that is developed is only the principle which excites, and to insist that this is confirmed by actual observation, is openly to contradict observation itself, and to render it absolutely impossible for him to make the least progress in the explanation of intellectual activity, unless he abandons the supposition upon which his whole system is founded. Nevertheless, the author of the Treatise on Sensations seems to be perfectly satisfied with his system: the actual impression is the sensation; the recollection of the sensation is the intellectual idea. If this is not sound, it is at least deceptive: with the appearance of nice observation he stops at the surface of things, and does not fatigue the pupil. Every thing comes from sensation; but this is because Condillac makes his statue talk as he pleases, without paying the least attention to his hypothesis of sensation alone.

16. This system, by reason of its philosophical meagerness, is fatal to all moral ideas. What becomes of morality if there are no ideas, except sensations? What becomes of duty if every thing is reduced to sensible necessity, to pleasure or pain? And what becomes of God, and of all man's relations to God?

CHAPTER III.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GEOMETRICAL IDEAS AND THE SENSIBLE REPRESENTATIONS WHICH ACCOMPANY THEM

17. Sensible representations always accompany our intellectual ideas. This is why in reflecting upon the latter we are apt to confound them with the former. We say, in reflecting upon them, not in making use of them. We none of us, have any trouble in making use of ideas according to circumstances; the error lies in the reflex, not in the direct act. It will be well to bear this last observation in mind.

18. It is next to impossible for the geometrician to meditate upon the triangle without revolving in his imagination, the image of a triangle as he has seen it drawn a thousand times; and he will, for this reason, be disposed to believe that the idea of the triangle is nothing else than this sensible representation. Were it thus, Condillac's assertion that the idea is only the recollection of the sensation would be verified in the idea of the triangle. In fact, this representation is the sensation repeated: the only difference between the two affections of the mind is that the actual sensation is caused by the actual presence of its object, wherefore it is more fixed and vivid. To prove that the difference is not essential, but consists only in degree, it is sufficient to observe, that if the imaginary representation attain a high degree of vividness we cannot distinguish it from sensation, as it happens to the visionary, and as we have all experienced in our dreams.

19. By noticing the following facts, we shall readily perceive how different the idea of the triangle is from its imaginary representation.

I. The idea of the triangle is one, and is common to all triangles of every size and kind; the representation of it is multiple, and varies in size and form.

II. When we reason upon the properties of the triangle, we proceed from a fixed and necessary idea; the representation changes at every instant, not so, however, the unity of the idea.

III. The idea of a triangle of any kind in particular is clear and evident; we see its properties in the clearest manner; the representation on the contrary is vague and confused, thus it is difficult to distinguish a right-angled from an acute-angled triangle, or even a slightly inclined obtuse-angled triangle. The idea corrects these errors or rather abstracts them; it makes use of the imaginary figure only as an auxiliary, in the same manner as we give our demonstrations when we draw figures upon paper, abstracting their exactness or inexactness, often when we know that they are not exact, which they cannot always be.

IV. The idea of the triangle is the same to the man born blind and to him who has sight; and the proof of this is that both, in their arguments and geometrical uses, develop it in precisely the same manner. The representation is different, for us it is a picture, which it cannot be for the blind man. When he meditates upon the triangle he neither has, nor can have, in his imagination, the same sensible representation as we, since he wants all that can relate to the sensation of sight. If the blind man experiences any accompanying representation of the idea, he can have received it only from the sense of touch; and in the case of large triangles, the three sides of which cannot be touched at the same time, the representation must be a successive series of sensations of touch, just as the recollection of a piece of music is essentially a successive representation. With us the representation of the triangle is almost always simultaneous, excepting the case of exceedingly large triangles, much larger than we usually see, in which case, especially when we are unaccustomed to consider such, it seems necessary to go on extending the lines successively.

20. What has been said of the triangle, the simplest of all figures, may with still greater reason be said of all others, many of which cannot be distinctly represented by the imagination, as we see in many-sided figures; and even the circle, which for facility of representation rivals the triangle, we cannot so perfectly imagine as to distinguish it from an ellipse whose foci are only at a trifling distance from each other.

CHAPTER IV.

THE IDEA AND THE INTELLECTUAL ACT

21. Having shown that geometrical ideas are not sensible representations, we can safely conclude that no kind of ideas are. Could there be a difficulty concerning any, it would be concerning geometrical ideas, for the objects of the latter can be sensibly represented. When objects have no figure, they cannot be perceived by any of the senses; to speak in such a case of sensible representations is to fall into a contradiction.

22. These considerations draw a dividing line between the intellect and the imagination; a line which all the scholastics drew, which Descartes and Malebranche respected and made still more prominent, but which Locke began to efface, and Condillac entirely obliterated. All the scholastics recognized this line; but they, like many others, used a language which, unless well understood, was of a character to obscure it. They called every idea an image of the object, and explained the act of the understanding as if there were a kind of form in the understanding which expressed the object, just as a picture presented to the eyes offers them the image of the thing pictured. This language arose from the continual comparison which is very naturally made between seeing and understanding. When objects are not present we make use of their pictures, and thus, since objects themselves cannot be present to our understanding, we conceive an interior form which performs the part of a picture. On the other hand, sensible things are the only ones which are strictly susceptible of representation; we never discover within ourselves the form in which the objects are portrayed, except in the case of imaginary representations; and therefore it was rash to call this an idea, and every idea an imaginary representation, in which the whole system of Condillac consists.

23. St. Thomas calls the representations of the imagination phantasmata, and says that so long as the soul is united to the body we cannot understand except per conversionem ad phantasmata; that is, unless the representation of the imagination, which serves as material for the formation of the idea, and assists in clearing it up, and heightening its colors, precedes and accompanies the intellectual act. Experience teaches that whenever we understand, certain sensible forms relative to the object which occupies us, exist in our imagination. Now, they are the images of the figure and color of the object, if it have any; now, the images of those with which they are compared, or the words which denote them in the language we habitually speak. Thus, even when thinking of God, the very act by which we affirm that he is most pure spirit, offers a kind of representation to the imagination under a sensible form. When we speak of eternity, we see the Ancient of days, as we have often seen him represented in our churches; when we speak of the infinite intelligence, we imagine perhaps a sea of light; infinite mercy, we picture to ourselves as a pitying likeness; justice, with angry countenance. To force ourselves to form some conception of the creation, we fancy a spring whence light and life both flow, and thus also we endeavor to render immensity sensible by imagining unlimited extension.

The imagination always accompanies the idea, but is not itself the idea; and we perceive the evident and unimpeachable proof of the distinction between the two, if we ask ourselves, while in the very act of imagining a sea of light, an old man, an angry or placid countenance, a fountain or extension, if God is any one of these, or any thing resembling them; for, we very promptly answer, no, that this would be impossible. All this demonstrates the existence of an idea which has no connection with these representations, but essentially excludes what is contained in them.