i J i ^i^^'C?p\^ m'yy WJ LtHtttiMtSl LtUfM^i L*l«liM«IIJ •ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY.: INCLUDED IN A CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. BY VICTbR COUSIN, gXuJ^ PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY OF THE FACULTY OF LITERATURE AT PARIS ; PEER OF FRANCE ; AND MEMBER OF THE ROYAL COUNCIL OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH, WITH AN INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND ADDITIONS, BY €. S. HENRY. y^ or THE - — -^ ^ 'UiriVEESITY HARTFORD : COOKE AND COMPANY. /"l8 34. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by COOKE & CO., in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. it.rb^h . p. CANFIBLD, PRINTSR. ADVERTISEMENT. It may be proper to say a few words in regard to the portion of M. Cousin's Lectures which makes the body of this work, and the form in which it is here presented to the public. In the year 1829, M. Cousin dehvered a course of Lectures, which was published in two volumes octavo, under the title of " History of Philosophy in the Eighteenth Century." Of this course, the second volume contains an extended critical analysis of Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding. The Lectures, from the 16th to the 25th inclusive, are taken up with this analysis. These are the Lectures of which a translation is here given to the public. This examination of the Essay on the Human Under- standing, is pronounced, by the writer of the article on the " Philosophy of Perception," in the Edinburgh Review for October 1830, No. 103, Art. IX., p. 191, to be ''the most important work on Locke ^ since the Nouveaux Essais of Leibnitz^ By those who are acquainted with the article referred to, — remarkable alike for philosophical learning, and ability of the very first order, — a higher authority cannot well be imagined. — Of this same work, the accomplished transla- tor of Cousin's " Introduction to the History of Philosophy," likewise remarks, that it " must he acknowledged to be perhaps the greatest master-piece of philosophical criticism ever exhibited to the public.^^ The Nouveaux Essais of Leibnitz is, unquestionably, an admirable work on Locke ; but it is rarely to be met with, and is, besides, impaired by the spirit of a system at the present day abandoned. Reid and Kant have also inciden- tally given criticisms of Locke, on many important points. A regular, complete, and thorough examination, at the pretent day, seemed, however, to be needed. This, the work of M. Cousin supplies. In regard to the form of the work, I have thought it best to print the ten Lectures of which the work is composed, as so many distinct Chapters : changing the numbering, to give it the form of a work by itself. As to the rest, I have aimed to give an exact translation, with no other changes than the omis- sion of some of the more direct forms of address used by a Lec- turer to his audience, and also an explanatory word or clause occasionally inserted in brackets. In the Appendix, I have brought together, — without any pretensions to a regular plan of elucidating the text, and without having any particular class of readers in view,— such remarks as occurred to me in the progress of preparing the work ; and also, extracts from the author's other wTitings, and from other sources, — partly as they were indicated by the author, and partly as they occurred to my own recollection. In the Introduction, I have endeavored to give briefly such an account of the Hfe, philosophical labors, and system of M. Cousin, and of the connexion of this with his other works, as might be interesting and useful to the readers of this volume. The whole is committed to the candor of the public, with the hope that it may do something to increase the interest in these studies, and to promote the great cause of Truth and of Science. C. S. Henry. Hartford^ Ct., September^ 1834. CONTENTS. Page. Introduction, by the Translator, ix EXAMINATION OP LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE UNDERSTANDING. CHAPTER 1 5 (Cours de Phil., Legon 16.) General spirit of the Essay on the Human Understanding. — Its Method. Study of the Human Understanding itself, as the necessary introduction to all true philosophy. — Study of the Human Understanding in its action, in its phenomena, or ideas. — Division of the inquiries relating to ideas, and deter- mination of the order in which those investigations should be made. To postpone the logical and ontological question concerning the truth or falsity of ideas, and the legitimacy or illegitimacy of their application to their respective objects ; and to concentrate our investigations upon the study of ideas in themselves, — and in that, to begin^_bj describing ideas as they actually are, and then to proceed to the investigation of their origin. — Ex- amination of the Method of Locke. Its merit : he postpones and places last the question of the truth or falsity of ideas. Its fault : he entirely neglects the question concerning the actual character of ideas, and begins with that of their origin. First mistake of Method ; chances of error which it involves. General tendency of the School of Locke. — Recapitulation. CHAPTER n. .... 27 (Legon 17.) First Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. Of Innate Ideas. — Second Book. Experience, the source of all ideas. Sensation and Reflec- tion. — Locke places the developement of the sensibility before that of the operations of the mind. Operations of the Mind. According to Locke, they are exercised only upon sensible data. Basis of Sensualism. — Exam- ination of the doctrine of Locke concerning the idea of Space. — That the idea of Space, in the system of Locke, should and does resolve itself into the idea of Body. — This confusion contradicted by facts, and by Locke himself. — Distinction of the actual characters of the ideas of Body and of Space : 1. the one contingent, the other necessary ; 2. the one limited, the other illimitable ; 3. the one a sensible representation, the other a rational conception. This distinction ruins the system of Locke. Examination of the origin of the idea of Space. Distinction between the logical order and the chronological order of ideas. — Logical order. The idea of space is the logical condition of the idea of body, its foundation, its reason, its origin, taken logically. — The idea of body is the chronological condition of the idea of space, its origin, taken chronologically. — Of the Reason and Experience, considered as in turn the reciprocal condition of their mutual develope- ment. — Merit of the system of Locke.— -Its vices: 1. confounds the meas- ure of space, with space ; 2. the condition of the idea of space, with the idea itself. Vi CONTENTS. CHAPTER III 41 (Legon 18.) Recapitulation of the preceding chapter. — Continuation of the examination of the Second Booii bt' the Essay on the Human Understanding. Of the idea of time. — Of the idea of the Infinite. — Of the idea of Personal Identity. — Of the idea of Substance. CHAPTER IV 79 (Legon 19.) General remarks on the foregoing results.— Continuation of the examina. tion of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. Of the idea of Cause. — Origin in sensation. Refutation. — Origin in reflection and the sentiment of the Will. Distinction between the idea of Cause ai d the Principle of Causality. — That the principle of causality is inexplicable by the sentiment of will. — Of the true formation of the principle of Caus- ality. CHAPTER V 103 (Legon 20.) Examination of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Under- standing, continued. Of the idea of Good and Evil. Refutation. Conclu- sions of the Second Book. Of the formation and of the mechanism of ideas in the understanding. Of simple and complex ideas. — Of the activity and passivity of the mind, in the acquisition of ideas. — The most general attri- butes of ideas.— Of the Association of ideas. — Examination of the Third Book of the Essay on the Understanding, concerning vv'ords. Credit due to Locke. — Examination of the following questions : 1. Do words derive their first origin from other words significant of sensible ideas ? 2. Is the signification of words purely arbitrary ? 3. Are general ideas nothing but words? Of Nominalism and Realism. 4. Are words the sole cause of error ; and is all science only a well-constructed language ? — Examination of the Third Book, concluded. CHAPTER VI 141 (Legon 21.) Examination of the Fourth Book of the Essay on the Human Understand- ing, on Knowledge. — That knowledge, according to Locke, depends : 1. upon ideas ; 2. upon ideas, in so far as they are conformed to their objects. — That the conformity or non-conformity of ideas with their objects, as the foundation of truth or falsehood in regard to knowledge, is not with Locke merely a metaphor, but a real theory.— Examination of this theory of ideas, 1. in relation to the external world, to secondary qualities, to primary qualities, to the substratum of these qualities, to space, to time, &c. ; 2. in relation to the spiritual world. — Appeal to Revelation. Paralogism of Locke. CHAPTER VII 163 ( Lee on 22.) Reeumption and continuation of the preceding chapter. — Of the idea, not now considered in relation to the object which it should represent, but in relation to the mind which perceives it, and in which it is found. — The idea-image, idea taken materially, implies a material subject; from hence. Materialism. — Taken spiritually, it can give neither bodies nor spirit. — That the representative-idea, laid down as the sole primitive datum of the mind, in the inquiry after reality, condemns us to a paralogism ; since no CONTENTS. VU representative idea can be decided to represent correctly or incorrectly, except by comparing it with its original, with the reality itself, to which, however, by the hypothesis, we cannot arrive but by the idea. — That knowl- edge is direct, and without an intermediate. — Of judgments, of propositions and ideas. — Return to the question of innate ideas. CHAPTER VIII. .... 185 (Leg on 2 3.) Examination of the Fourth Book of the Essay on the Understanding con- tinued. Of Knowledge. Its modes. Omission of inductive knowledge. — Its degrees. False distinction of Locke between knowing and judging. — That the theory of knowledge and of judgment in Locke, resolves itself into that of a perception of agreement or disagreement between ideas. Detailed examination of this theory. — That it applies to judgments abstract, and not primitive, but by no means to primitive judgments which imply existence. — Analysis of the judgment : I exist. Three objections: 1. the impossibility of arriving at real existence By the abstraction of existence ; 2. that to begin by abstraction, is contrary to the true process of the human mind ; 3. that the theory of Locke involves a paralogism. — Analysis of the judgments, / think, this body exists, this body is colored, God exists, &.c. — Analysis of the judgments upon which Arithmetic and Geometry rest. CHAPTER IX. : . . . 211 ( Lecon 24.) Continuation of the preceding chapter. That the theory of judgment, as the perception of a relation of agreement or disagreement between ideas, supposes that every judgment is founded upon a comparison. Refutation of the theory of comparative judgment. — Of axioms. — Of identical proposi- tions. — Of Reason and of Faith. — Of Syllogism. — Of Enthusiasm. — Of the causes of Error. — Division of the Sciences. — Conclusion of the examination of the Fourth Book of Locke's Essay. CHAPTER X 243 (LegonZS. ) Examination of three important Theories found in the Essay on the Hu. man Understanding : 1. Theory of Freedom ; which inclines to Fatalism. 2. Theory of the Nature of the Soul ; which inclines to Materialism. 3. Theory of the Existence of God ; which rests itself almost exclusively upon external proofs, drawn from the sensible world. — Recapitulation of the whole Examination of the Essay of Locke ; the Merits and the Faults which have been pointed out. — Of the spirit which has governed this Examination.— Conclusion. APPENDIX. INDEX TO THE PRINCIPAL NOTES. Note A, — Consciousness, Note B, — The natural and philosophic consciousness. Note C, — Ideology, — M. Destutt de Tracy, Note F,~ Of Method, Note K, — Royer.Collard, — Origin of the conception of Durati Note L, — The idea of the Infinite, Note M, — Idea of Substance, — Royer-Collard, . . * Note N, — Hume, — Kant, Note S, — Cause and Effect, — Brown, .... Note U, — Moral Principles, . . , . . 283 286 289 291 304 305 308 310 312 315 VlU CONTENTS. Note V, — Principle of Merit and Demerit, Note W, — Foundation of Punishment, . Note X, — Divine Justice, Note Y, — Divine Government, — Plato, Note Z,— Of Language, Note AA, — Theory of Perception, Note, BB, — Innate Ideas, Note CC, — Coincidence of Lord Bacon and Plato, The true sense of Cogito, ergo sum^ Note DD, — Leibnitz, — Faith and Reason, Note FF, — Impersonality of Reason, — Inspiration Note KK, — Doctrine concerning the Will and Freedom Note MM, — St. Anselm, . . . . , Note NN, — The Ionian and Pythagorean Schools, Note 00, — Sankhyra of Kapila, .... Idea of a System of Metaphysics, 316 317 318 319 320 322 325 327 328 329 331 334 339 340 342 345 INTRODUCTION. At the time when the influence of the Cartesian philosophy in France was giving way to the new spirit of the 18th century, nothing was more natural than the ready reception of the system of Locke, claiming as it did — and to a certain extent, justly — to be a fruit of the movement of independence, and of the experi- mental method. Thus put upon the road of Empiricism, the activity of the French mind continued to develope its principles, and carry out its consequences to their last results. Condillac, exaggerating the already partial and defective, and therefore erroneous principles of the Empiricism of Locke, rejected reflec- tion, or natural consciousness, as one of the sources of knowledge ; and analyzed all the phenomena of the mind, into forms of sensa- tion. By the admirable logical precision, the clearness and perfect system which he gave to his analysis, he became the metaphysi- cian and acknowledged chief of this new school ; while Helvetius, d'Holbach, and others, carried it boldly out to the Materialism, Fatalism, and Atheism, which are its legitimate moral consequences. From that period. Sensualism, as a philosophical theory, main- tained an almost exclusive predominance. Exceptions to this remark are scarcely to be met ; and those that may be regarded as such, were merely the fragmentary or inconsequent outbreak- ings of a higher inspiration than Sensualism could supply, not the regular and scientific exposition of a better system. Sensualism was the reigning doctrine. All knowledge and truth were held to be derived from Experience ; and the domain of Experience was limited exclusively to Sensation. The influ- ence of this doctrine extended throughout every department of intellectual activity, — Art, Morals, Religion, no less than the physi- cal and economical sciences. It became, according to Damiron, "a new faith, which was preached by the philosophes, as its priests and doctors ; and, among all ranks, and first, among the B y r INTRODUCTION. higher orders, including the clergy, it superseded the forgotten or ill-taught doctrines of Christianity. It was in all books, in all conversations ; and, as a decisive proof of its conquest and credit, passed into instruction, and for many years before the Revolution, it had taken every where, in the provinces as well as in Paris, the place of the old routine of education," Subsequently, the exciting and terrific scenes of the Revolution occupied all minds : the speculations which had, in no small de- gree, prepared the way for those scenes, gave place to the absorb- ing interest of that period. Philosophy, in its more extended sense, was abandoned ; all speculation was directed towards politi- cal theories, to the neglect of science, and even of public instruc- tion ; and nothing was done in the cultivation of philosophy, until 1795. At that time, the reign of violence began to give way to some- thing like order and repose. With this return to comparative quiet, the philosophical spirit began to re-awaken. It was natural, however, that this movement should recommence where it had been arrested — namely, with Sensualism. The instruction at the Normal schools, and the organization of the Institute by the Directory, contributed to renew and extend the philosophy of Condillac, and to make it in some sort the doc- trine of government, the philosophy of the state. During this period, we have several works produced in the spirit of the Sensual system, — -among the most important of which may be named the Rapports du Physique et du Moral of Cabanis, and the Ideology of M. Destutt de Tracy ; and, by a strange fortune, the word Ideol- ogy became in France the distinctive appellation of the docti*ine of exclusive Sensualism. From this time to the Consulate, we may trace a lively philosophical activity, though always in the direction of SensuaHsm. ■ Hitherto, if any opposition to Sensualism had ap. peared, it was indirect and literary, rather than scientific. It may be found in writers of sentiment, such as St. Pierre, rather than in works of reflection^ Thus, up to the time of the Empire, there was in strictness no philosophy opposed to the Sensual system. But from this period the tokens of a reaction become more distinct. Still, as is entirely natural, it manifested itself at first and most clearly in works of INTRODUCTION. XI imagination and sentiment, in poetry and eloquence, rather than by scientific exposition. This reaction was favored by Napoleon, though not from any sympathy with the direction which the movement against Sensual- ism afterwards displayed. From the cast of his mind and habits of education, and partly also from motives of policy, the Emperor had a strong dislike to all metaphysical and moral speculations, and did all in his power to discredit Ideology, which was then the exclusive form of speculation. When he reorganized the Institute, he excluded that class of studies ; and in every way endeavored to repress their pursuit, and to excite the cultivation of the mathe- matical and physical sciences. Thus, under the Empire, the phi- losophy of Condillac sensibly declined. It no longer produced important works, its former authorities lost in credit, and there was no longer the brilliant propagation of its doctrines which distin- guished the preceding periods. There was still another cause of the decline of Sensualism. It was in the character of several works written about this period, by writers avowedly belonging to the school of Condillac ; but who, by the distinctions and modifications which they introduced, actu- ally favored a contrary doctrine. Among the most important of these works, may be named the Lectures of M. Laromiguiere. By distinguishing between the idea and the sensation, he makes the latter the matter, and the first the form received ; and this form is given by the intellectual activity. This activity is therefore admitted as an original attribute of the mind, and a co-ordinate source of knowledge ; which is certainly contrary to the exclusive origin in sensation. Laromiguiere, therefore, comes much nearer in this respect, to Reid, and particularly to Kant, than to his mas- ter Condillac. A little subsequently to this time, we come to Royer-Collard, Distinguished by eminent ability in every department, this cele- brated man appeared in open and systematic opposition to Sensu- alism. From 1811 to 1814, as the disciple and expounder of Reid, he advocated the doctrines of the Scottish philosopher, and annihilated the exclusive pretensions of the Sensual school to be the last word and highest result of philosophy. The able trans- lation of Reid's works, and of Stewart's Outlines of Moral Phi- losophy, by Joyffroy, the scholar of Royer-Collard, contributed XU INTRODUCTION. Still further to extend the reaction against the system of Condillac. From the time when Royer-CoUard commenced his lectures to the present day, and through the impulse which he imparted, phi- losophy has been cultivated with the most lively activity, by many of the finest spirits of France. Of these, some, carrying the zeal they had imbibed from their master into a still more extended sphere, pursued their investigations into the modern German spec- ulations, which had already attracted some attention, and exerted some influence, through the writings of Madam de Sfael, the expo- sitions of Villiers, and others. The reign of Sensualism was thus at an end. It came to be looked upon with as great a degree of aversion and contempt, as it had formerly enjoyed of credit and authority. Its few partizans were almost exclusively to be found among the naturalists and physicians. In the only important work recently written in the interest of Materialism — Sur V Irritation et la Folie, by Broussais — the author complains of the injustice and prejudice with which the once predominant doctrines of Sensualism are now regarded. In truth, nearly all the names of eminence and celebrity in every department of intellectual activity, are ranged on the side of a spiritual philosophy. Its influence pervades almost all the cele- brated works that have appeared for nearly twenty years, in Art, in History, and in Literature at large. Among- those who imbibed and have contributed to extend the spirit of this new activity in philosophy, there is no one who occu- pies a more brilliant position, or has exerted a greater influence, than Victor Cousin. This celebrated philosopher was bom in 1791. He received his first instructions in philosophy, it is be- lieved, from Royer-Collard, and was for some time his disciple. When, on the restoration of the Bourbons, Royer-Collard was made Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of France, Cousin was appointed adjunct Professor in the same department. At first he confined himself to commenting on the views of his master ; but soon, extending his studies beyond the limits of the Scottish school, he pursued his investigations with indefatigable zeal, through the whole field of philosophical inquiry. The ancient Grecian systems, — the middle ages, — the modern philosophy com- mencing with Descartes, — and, finally, the vast njass of the more INTRODUCTION. XIll recent German speculations, were explored. While engaged in these studies and in the duties of instruction, he was gradually- forming the system to which his name is attached, and which has been subsequently developed in his lectures and writings. About this time he put out an edition of the unpublished works of Proclus, in six volumes, from the manuscripts preserved in the Royal Li- brary at Paris.* He then commenced a translation of the works of Plato, which is still in progress. Of this work, we have re- ceived the first eight volumes, which we beheve to be all that have yet come from the press. Though traces of his dependence upon his German predecessor, Schleiermacher, are visible, yet, still this work exhibits admirable original ability on the part of the French translator. We know of no individual who could have made the French language — the most insufficient of all dialects for the higher uses of philosophy — approach so nearly to an adequate representation of the infinite variety and delicacy of Plato's Greek. To each dialogue, Cousin has prefixed a philosophical argument ; and the translation is to be followed by a volume containing the life of Plato, and a regular exposition of his system. — To M. Cousin we also owe the best, and, we believe, the first complete edition of the works of DESCARTES.f During the reign of Jesuit ascendency, under the ministry of M. de Villele, Royer-Collard and Cousin — both obnoxious to the ultra- royalists — were prohibited "from lecturing. This period was pass- ed by Cousin principally in retirement and private studies. In 1826, he published his volume of Philosophical Fragments. About this time he travelled in Germany with the young duke of Monto- bello, the son of Marshall Lannes. Silenced in his own country by the ultra-royalists, his brilliant reputation alarmed the Prussian government, which sent police officers into Saxony, and arrested him at Dresden. By the interposition of the celebrated Hegel, Professor of Philosophy at Berlin, and the personal friend of Cousin, he obtained his release. This kindness Cousin acknow- * Procli Philosophi Platonici Opera e Codd. Mss. Bihlioih. Reg. Pa. risiensis, turn primum edidit, lectionis varietate, et commentariis illustravit Victor Cousin &c., Tom. VI., Paris, 1820-— 1827. t Oeuvres completes de Descartes, puhliees par Victor Couairit 11 vols., 8vo., Paris, 1824—1826. b2 XIV INTRODUCTION. ledges with great warmth, in his beautiful and elegant dedication to Hegel, of the translation of the Gorgias. At length, on the overthrow of the Villele administration, Royer- Collard was chosen President of the Chamber of Deputies ; and Cousin, after eight years of silence, was restored to the chair of philosophy. — In 1828, besides giving to the public a volume under the title of New Philosophical Fragments, containing many rich fruits of his studies in ancient philosophy, and exhibiting additional proof of his learning and ability, — he commenced a course of lectures, which were published under the title of Introduction to the History of Philosophy. This volume has been given to the American pubHc, in the spirited and faithful translation of Mr. Linberg. The next year, (1829,) Cousin pubHshed a translation from the German, of Tenneman's Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, (Sketch of the History of Philosophy,) and delivered a course of lectures, which were published in two volumes, under the title of History of the Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century. After the overthrow of the liberal ministry, and the accession of the ultra- royalists to power under Prince Pohgnac, Cousin appears again to have fallen under suspicion. A committee was appointed to inquire into the character and tendency of his lectures. Of the result of this investigation we have never heard, nor whether indeed it ever took place. The revolution of 1830, and the change of the French dynasty, probably left him to pursue his speculations and in- structions,' free from royalist annoyance. Since then, however, we know nothing of his philosophical labors, except three volumes of the translation of Plato. A new arrangement was made in his Professorship, by which M. Jouffroy received the department of the History of Modern Philosophy, while Cousin retained that of Ancient Philosophy. — Appointed under the new government to a place in the Royal Council of Public Instruction, he proceeded, in 1831, to Prussia to examine the state of education, and institutions for general instruction in that kingdom. His Report, published on his return, is, we believe, his last work. A translation of it has recently been published in England, and the work appears to have attracted much attention there as well as in France. M. Cousin is still in the vigor of life, and it is to be hoped that he may yet contribute much more to the cause of philosophy, and to the INTRODUCTION. XV interests of truth and science, to which his life has been devoted. Eminent abihty and profound learning, when animated by the pure and noble spirit which has ever characterized and distinguished the labors of M. Cousin, cannot but promote the cause of truth in whatever department they are manifested. It is gratifying here to adduce the testimony of one of the ablest writers in the Edin- burgh Review, who appears indeed in oppositisn to Cousin's sys- tem, yet concerning the author, remarks : " He has consecrated his life and labors to philosophy, and to philosophy alone ; nor has he approached the sanctuary with unwashed hands. The editor of Proclus and of Descartes, the translator and interpreter of Plato, and the promised expositor of Kant, will not be accused of par- tiality in the choice of his pursuits ; while his two works under the title of Philosophical Fragments, bear ample evidence to the learning, elegance, and distinguished ability of their author. Ta- king him all in all, in France, M. Cousin stands alone ; nor can we contemplate his character and accomplishments, without the sincerest admiration, even while we dissent from almost every principle of his philosophy." — The principles of philosophy here referred to by this writer, relate mainly to Cousin's solution of the problem concerning the positive knowledge of the infinite and absolute, by the human mind ; or, in other words, the possibility of philosophy, considered as the science of any thing beyond the phenomena of our own minds : this is affirmed by Cousin, and denied by this writer. In regard to the peculiar system of philosophy embraced and taught by M. Cousin, the limits of this introduction will admit only a very brief and general statement. An extended exposition of this system, is not perhaps necessary to the comprehension of the portion of his lectures herewith presented to the public ; inasmuch as the work consists, almost entirely, of special analyses and criti- cal discussions complete in themselves, which may be sufficiently judged of from the reader's general acquaintance with philosophi- cal language and systems, and from so much of his system as is exhibited in them. Indeed, except in his oral instructions, M. Cousin has developed his philosophy rather in its applications, by history and criticism, than in a full and systematic exposition of its principles. Outlines of his system are given in the Programs of some of his courses of lectures published in the Philosophical XVI INTRODUCTION Fragments, They contain, however, barely the briefest indica- tions. The reader will find a part of one of these programs printed at the end of this volume. A little fuller exposition of the fundamental principles of this system, may be found in the Preface to the Fragments, and also in the Introduction to the History of Philosophy, Lectures 4th, 5th, and 6th, to which the reader is referred. The system of M. Cousin has received the appellation of Eclec- ticism. By this, however, the doctrines of New Platonism are not to be understood, as has been nevertheless very erroneously stated.* Neither is it a Syncretism, or gross mixture of all sys- tems, — the impracticable project of conciliating all doctrines and opinions, which can only result in the confusion of inconsistent principles, without any scientific unity and connexion. On the contrary, it is a distinct scientific theory, — having its method, its principle, and its consequences. So far from being an arbitrary selecting and bringing together of doctrines and notions on the grounds of taste and preference, its processes are, throughout, * North American Review for July, 1829, p. 70. The statement made by the Reviewer is contradicted by the whole tenor of M. Cousin's criticism of New Platonism, contained in the Histoire de la Philos. au 18me Siecle, {Cours de Philosophic for 1829,) Vol. I. p. 317—332.— Cousin there shows that the Alexandrine school, with the pretension and name of being a system of Eclecticism, was actually and distinctively a system of Mysticism, one of the four great systems under which he classes all the phitosophical schools. As such, he proceeds to subject it to the criticism of his own principles, as distinct and different. He developes its essential traits, its principle and its consequences ; shows that, as a system of Mysticism, its philosophy is distinctively religious ; the heart of the sys- tem is its theodicy, or doctrine concerning the divine nature ; there is its principle ; its analysis, its psychology, and even its physics, are all made for and in the interest of its theology; that its principle " contains a funda- mental error," — involving a perversion of the true idea of God, and leading to all those mystical doctrines and practices of theurgy, incantation, magic, &c., which the Reviewer talks of Cousin's having ♦« taken under his peculiar patronage." — It is but fair, however, to state, that the Reviewer could not have seen the work of Cousin which has just been referred to, as it had not probably then been published. Still, with the other writings of Cousin in his hands, it is scarcely less remarkable that he should have fallen into such an error. It is only another instance of the influence of casual associations. The writer had probably been always in the habit of connecting the word Eclecticism with the doctrines of the Alexandrine or New Platonic school. INTEODUCTION. XVU strictly scientific and critical. Its eclectic character consists pre- cisely in the pretension of applying its own distinctive principles to the criticism of all other systems, — discriminating in each its part of truth and its part of error, — and combining the part of truth found in every partial, exclusive, and therefore erroneous system, into a higher, comprehensive system. — The following brief sketch, selected from different places in the author's writings, and expressed nearly in his own language, may perhaps give the reader a general notion of this system. In the psychological analysis of M. Cousin, all the facts of hu-1 man consciousness are reduced to three classes, — sensible, volun- tary, and rational. The first and the last have the characteristic of necessity ; those of the will alone are personal and imputable. Personality belongs solely to the will ; and self is the centre of the intellectual sphere. The will does not create the two classes of sensible and rational phenomena ; we find ourselves between these two orders of facts, which we perceive only by separating and distinguishing ourselves from them. Moreover, we perceive by a light which comes not from ourselves ; for our personality is our will, and nothing more. All light comes from the reason, and it is the reason that perceives both itself, and the sensibility which envelopes it, and the will also upon which it imposes obligation, though without constraining it. The element of cognition is, by its essence, rational ; and con- sciousness, though composed of three integrant and inseparable elements, has its most immediate foundation in reason, without which there would be no possible knowledge, and consequently no consciousness. The Sensibility is the external condition of con- sciousness : the Will is its centre ; and Reason its light. In falling back upon our consciousness, we find that the relation of its three elements, the mtelligence, the activity, and the sensi- bility, is so intimate, that when one of these elements is given, the two others enter into exercise, and this element is the activity. Without the free activity, or the self, there is no consciousness ; that is to say, the two other phenomena, whether they take place or not, are as though they were not in respect to the self, the me, which as yet is not. Now the me exists for itself, perceives and can perceive itself, only by distinguishing itself from sensation, which latter is likewise thereby alone perceived, and thereby be- XVm INTRODUCTION. comes a part of the consciousness. But as the me cannot perceive itself and perceive the sensation, but by the reason or inteUigence, the necessary principle of all perception, it follows, that the exer- cise of the reason is contemporaneous with the exercise of the per- sonal activity and sensible impressions. The triplicity of con- sciousness, the three elements of which are distinct, and cannot be reduced to each other, reduces itself, therefore, to a single fact ; while again, the unity of consciousness exists only under condition of this triplicity. Passing over M. Cousin's analysis of the sensibility and of the activity, we come to that of the reason, or intelHgence, in which, and in its consequences, the original pretensions and distinguishing peculiarity of his system are found. In reason, or intelligence, considered as one of the three ele- ments which meet in the unity of consciousness, analysis likewise discovers three integrant elements, or laws of thought, which are at once the reason itself, and which determine its manifestations. These three elements are inseparable, equally essential and primi- tive. — The Jirst of these elements Cousin expresses indifferently as the idea of unity, identity, substance, absolute cause, the infinite, &;c. All these expressions relate to an idea fundamentally one. — The second, he calls the idea of plurality, difference, phenomenon, relative cause, the finite, &c. These terms likewise express an idea essentially the same. These two elements are reciprocally correlatives. The one is the antithesis of the other, and they both necessarily co-exist in the reason. — The third, is the relation be- tween the first and second terms, between the infinite and the finite. This relation is not simply that of inseparable co-existence ; they are connected as cause and effect. The first term, though absolute, exists not absolutely in itself, but as an absolute cause, which must pass into action, and manifest itself in the second. The finite cannot exist without the infinite, and the infinite can only be realized by developing itself in the finite. These three elements are found in the unity of reason. They are given inseparably in the primitive synthesis of thought. As inseparable, universal, and necessary, they are the integrant laws of intelligence, which constitute its nature, and preside over all its manifestations. The idea of the finite, of the infinite, and of their necessary connexion as cause and effect, meet in every act of INTRODUCTION. XlX intelligence, nor is it possible to separate them from each other ; though distinct, they are bound together, and constitute at once a triplicity and a unity. Reason, which manifests itself in these three ideas, is not indi- vidual nor personal. What is personal to us, belongs to our will, to our free activity. But reason, constituted and governed by these necessary and absolute conceptions, is not an integrant part of our personality ; it is not ours ; it is not even human ; it ap- pears in, and governs humanity, and is human only in this relation. In its essence it is absolute, it is divine. The ideas which appear in, and govern the human intelligence, taken absolutely as they must be, are referable only to the absolute subject and substance of them, to the eternal reason. They are nothing else than the modes of the existence of the eternal reason. We therefore see by a light which is not our own. These ideas in the human intel- ligence, are a manifestation of the absolute intelligence, and a true revelation of the divine in the human. The divine nature, therefore, as essentially intelligent, is essen- tially intelligible ; for that which is true of reason as appearing in man, is true of reason taken absolutely. That which forms the foundation of our reason, forms the foundation of eternal reason : that is a triplicity which resolves itself into unity, and a unity which developes itself into triplicity. Creation is therefore comprehensible and necessary ; for crea- tion is nothing else than the necessary developement of the infinite in the finite, of unity in variety, and that in virtue of the third element which binds the two other terms together, and in which both are realized. God, being substance and cause, — being sub- stance as cause, and cause as substance, that is, being absolute cause as well as intelligence, cannot but manifest himself. This manifestation is creation, the developement of the infinite in the finite, of unity in plurality. Creation is necessarily implied in the idea of God, and the world, the universe, is the necessary effect of the divine existence and manifestation. God is thus every- where, and in all. The universe is but a reflection of his being, a developement of his existence. Grod is not, however, to be confounded with the universe, n^r is God the mere anima mundi : God is the cause, the universe is the effect. In order to see the true relation between God and the XX INTRODUCTION. world, we must distinguish between the necessary manifestation of Grod in the world, and the subsistence of his divine essence in itself; for while, on the one hand, it is absurd to suppose that God, in manifesting himself, should not in some sort transfer himself into his manifestation, it is, on the other, equally absurd to suppose that the principle of that manifestation should not still retain all the superiority of a cause to its effect. While, therefore, the universe is a reflection, it is still an imperfect reflection of God ; and the absolute divine subsistence still remains distinct from, and unex- hausted by, the creation, which was the passing into activity, of that exhaustless power in which we perpetually live, and move, and have our being. The world is also governed by the same principles which de- termined its creation. Two laws, and their connexion in perpet- ual reaction, govern and explain the material world. These two laws are expansion and attraction. The law of expansion is the evolution of unity to variety ; the law of attraction, the resolution of variety into unity. The same analogy is found in the human mind. As in nature two laws and their connexion govern and explain the material universe, so in consciousness, two ideas and their relation govern and explain the world of thought. In humanity, the constituent elements of all existence are brought under the eye of conscious- ness. The study of consciousness is the study of humanity. The study of consciousness is Psychology ; and as man is the micro- cosm of existence, psychology envelopes all science. Psychology contains and reflects every thing, — both that which is of God and that which is of the world. As in nature, all the phenomena of the outward world may be reduced to one fundamental fact, com- posed of three elements, namely, two great laws and their neces- sary connexion, so in the internal world, all its phenomena may be reduced to one fundamental fact of consciousness, consisting of three elements, namely, two ideas and their connexion and corre- lation. The fundamental fact of consciousness is a complex phenomenon, composed of three terms : first, the me and the not me, limited and finite ; then, the idea of something difierent from these, the unlim- ited, the infinite ; and third, the relation of the finite to the infinite which contains and unfolds it. These three terms universally and INTRODUCTION. XXI necessarily meet in every act of consciousness. We find there the consciousness of self, as distinguished from the not-self, and of both as finite. But at the same instant, we are and must be con- scious of something infinite, which contains and explains the finite ; of something which is substantial as that is phenomenal ; which comprehends both the me and the not-me ; and finally, connecting the two terms, the infinite and the finite, under the principle of causality, we do and must regard the former as a cause, and con- sequently in its nature an infinite cause. This is God. — Thus consciousness has three momenta ; and is like nature, of which it is the complement, and like the divine essence, which it manifests. We now come to an important point — the fundamental peculi- arity of M. Cousin's system : this is the two-fold developement of reason. — The three elements which constitute and govern the reason are all given in consciousness. But how are they given ? In the developed state of human intelligence, reflection, falling back upon the consciousness, finds there the idea of the finite, of the infinite, and of their relation. The finite supposes the infinite, and the infinite supposes the finite ; when one is given, the other is equally given ; nor is their denial possible. Pronounce the name of the one, and that of the other is irresistibly suggested, because the idea which it represents enters irresistibly along with the for- mer into the consciousness. — Such is the fact demonstrated by reflection, in the present developed state of the intelligence. But how were these elements originally given? Not by reflection. Reflection can only add itself to that which was ; as a voluntary act, it falls back upon that which is, reviews, analyzes, distin- guishes, throws light upon it ; but it does not create the elements to which it applies itself. The human mind does not therefore commence by reflection ; the first act of intelligence is not an act of reflection. Reflection itself supposes an operation anterior to itself; by which, moreover, must be given all the terms that form the basis of subsequent reflection. But what is the nature of this operation 1 As it is not of reflection, it is not of the will or volun- tary activity. It is therefore an instinctive developement of thought : and as the intelligence does not commence by negation, this primitive, original act of intelligence is an instinctive percep- tion of truth, an immediate intuition, and a pure affirmation. — Such is the result of logic applied to the fact of reflection ; but a pro- c XXll INTRODUCTION. found and penetrating observation may verify the results of logical deduction, may in some sort detect immediately in the conscious- ness, the traces of this primitive act of intelligence anterior to all reflection. Cousin thus asserts a two-fold developement of reason or intel- ligence : the first primitive, unreflective, instinctive ; the second ulterior, reflective, voluntary. The former he terms spontaneous reason, spontaneity of reason, or briefly, spontaneity ; the latter, reflective reason, reflection of reason, or briefly, reflection. By the spontaneity of reason, is meant " that developement of reason anterior to reflection, that power of reason to seize upon truth at first sight, to comprehend it, and to admit it, without asking or giving an account of its doing so." In this distinction between spontaneous and reflective intelli- gence ; in the recognition of the former as anterior to, and suppo- sed by, the latter — as containing the three great elements of thought — and immediately and positively cognizant of the infinite, no less than of the finite ; — it is here that we find the principle which, with its consequences, constitutes and determines the pe- culiar system of M. Cousin. — We will briefly explain. All the elements of truth are given in every act of primitive, spontaneous consciousness. But as they are given anterior to all reflection, and without any negation, they are given blended ob- scurely, and without contrast, in the primary synthesis of thought. Yet still they are revealed in themselves and in their relations, in every act of original instinctive apperception. They are revealed : the first act of intelligence is an act of faith, of faith in the absolute reason by which they are revealed. The spontaneous reason is not individual nor personal ; it is not human, except as revealed in man ; in itself it is impersonal, divine. It is the Logos, the Word of St. John, which " lighteth every man that cometh into the world:" ^^illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum" In this sense it is, that reason is that which, developing itself in man, reveals to us from on high the truths which it imposes upon us immediately, and which, originally, we accept at once, without consulting reflection. It is this admirable and incontestible phe- nomenon which identifies reason and faith with the primitive, irre- sistible, spontaneous, and unreflective apperception of truth. INTRODUCTION. XXllI Subsequently comes reflection, which, applying itself to the elements given in spontaneity, analyzes and discriminates the facts contained in the primitive synthesis, recognizes their characteris- tics, and receives these fundamental elements of thought as ideas, laws, principles, or categories. These are the philosophical terms ; the element of philosophy is reflection. But what is the original source of these categories ? It is the spontaneous intuition ; the first form in which they appear is not that of reflection, but of spontaneity. But as reflection cannot apply itself to more than was given in spontaneity ; as analysis cannot give more than the primitive synthesis which it analyzes ; therefore the categories in their developed and scientific form, can contain nothing that was not given enveloped and unreflected in the spontaneous reason. But these categories, though they have their source and foundation in the primitive consciousness, receive their distinct recognition and form by analysis, that is, by reflection. But the constituent ele- ment of reflection is the will, the personality ; it is ourselves. The categories obtained by reflection, have consequently the appear- ance of being personal, as having truth and reahty only relative to the mind. Here is found the secret of Kant's mistake, and the vice of his system. Kant has distinguished the great constitu- ent laws of thought — which he calls categories — from every thing derived from sensation, from every empiric element ; he has enumerated and classified them ; he has ascribed to them an irre- sistible force in the mind ; — yet, overlooking the spontaneous action of reason, and regarding reflection not merely as recogni- zing and giving form to, but also as the source of, these categories, he has, from the evident personality of reflection, been led to the conclusion that these laws, though irresistible, are merely personal ; true relative to the human mind, but not the ground of absolute certainty beyond the sphere of the human mind. In the view of Kant, as it is we ourselves that furnish the form of our conscious- ness, these laws are purely subjective ; that is, all that is conceived by us as necessary and universal, is so only relative to our per- sonal reason, but without any objective reality ; the certainty of any corresponding objective reality is not grounded in these laws. If we think so, we arbitrarily make objective the subjective laws of our own thought ; but do not thereby legitimately arrive at any thing truly objective. Now if the laws of thought were purely XXIV INTRODTJCTION. subjective, we should have no right to transfer them beyond the sphere of our own consciousness ; in their utmost reach they could engender only irresistible convictions, but never independent truth : Nature and God may be objects of our faith, but not objects of knowledge. Thus Kant comes out to absolute scepticism, in re- gard to ontology, — a scepticism against which he finds no refuge, except in the sublime inconsistency of giving to the laws of the practical reason, more of objective validity than to those of the speculative reason ; — an inconsistency which Ficiite dem.onstrated and demolished, by showing the practical reason to have no more objective validity than the speculative.* Thus Kant failed in his solution of the grand problem of philosophy. * The following remarks on the use of the terms objective and subjective^ are from the Edinburgh Review, October 1829, p. 196, Note. " In the phi- losophy of mind, subjective denotes what is to be referred to the thinking subject, the Ego ; objective, what belongs to the object of thought, the Non Ego. It may be safe, perhaps, to say a few words in vindication of our employment of these terms. By the Greeks, the word ^vnoKtiittvov was equivocally employed to express either the object of knowledge, (the materia circa quam,) or the subject of existence, (the materia in qua.) The exact distinction of subject and object was first made by the schoolmen ; and to the schoolmen the vulgar languages are principally indebted for what pre- cision and analytic subtilty they possess. These correlative terms corres- pond to the first and most important distinction in philosophy ; they embody the original antithesis in consciousness of self and not self, — a distinction which, in fact, involves the whole science of mind ; for psychology is nothing more than a determination of the subjective and objective in themselves, and in their reciprocal relations. Thus significant of the primary and most extensive analysis in philosophy, these terms, in their substantive and adjec- live forms, passed from the schools into the scientific language of Tilesius, Campanella, Berigard, Gassendi, Descartes, Spinosa, Leibnitz, Wolf, &c. Deprived of these terms, the critical philosophy, indeed the whole philosophy of Germany, would be a blank. In this country, though familiarly employed in scientific language, even subsequently to the time of Locke, the adjective forms seem at length to have dropped out of the English tongue. That these words waxed obsolete, was perhaps caused by the ambiguity which had gradually crept into the signification of the substantives. Object, besides its proper signification, came to be abusively applied to denote motive, end, final cause, (a meaning not recognized by Johnson.) This innovation was probably borrowed from the French, in whose language the word had been similarly corrupted, after the commencement of the last century. (Diet, de Trevoux, voce Objet.) Subject in English, as sujet in French, had been also perverted into a synonyme for object, taken in its proper meaning, and INTRODUCTION. XXV M. Cousin thinks he finds the true solution in the distinction between the spontaneous and reflective reason. In the intimacy of consciousness, at a depth to which Kant had not penetrated, and beneath the apparently relative and subjective character of the necessary principles of the intelligence, may be found, according to him, the instantaneous but real fact of a spontaneous appercep- tion of truth, a cognition which, not instantly reflecting itself, takes place unnoticed in the depths of consciousness, but yet is there, and is the true basis of that which, subsequently, under a logical form, by reflection, becomes a necessary truth. The subjective, along with the reflective, altogether expires in the spontaneous apperception. Reason indeed becomes subjective in its relation to reflection, to the free and voluntary self, the seat and type of all personality ; but in itself, and in spontaneity, it is impersonal, ex- empt from individuality ; it does not even belong to humanity ; consequently, its laws rest upon no basis but themselves ; they appear in, preside over, and govern humanity, but belong not to it. Nothing is less personal than reason, particularly in sponta- neous, pure affirmation ; nothing therefore is less subjective ; and the truths which are thus given us, are absolute truths. The distinction between spontaneous and reflective reason, ex- plains likewise the identity and diversity of humanity, — and the history of the World and of philosophy. Spontaneity is the ele- ment of agreement ; reflection, of difference. Men agree in spon- taneity; they differ only in reflection. In its instinctive and spontaneous form, reason is every where the same and equal to itself, in all generations of humanity, and in all the individuals that compose them. All thought necessarily includes a primitive syn- thesis of its three necessary and inseparable elements. Faith in had thus returned to the original ambiguity of the corresponding term in Greek. It is probable that the logical appUcation of the word (subject of predication) facilitated or occasioned this confusion. In using the terms, therefore, we think that an explanation, but no apology, is required. The distinction is of paramount importance, and of infinite application, not only in philosophy proper, but in grammar, rhetoric, criticism, ethics, politics, jurisprudence, theology. It is adequately expressed by no other terms ; and if these did not already enjoy a prescripiive right, as denizens of the lan- guage, it cannot be denied, that, as strictly analogical, they would be well entitled to sue ou heir naturalization." c2 XXVI INTRODUCTION. God is the necessary faith of the human race : Atheism, in strict- ness, has no existence. It is nothing but an individual madly opposing his will to his reason. — The identity of spontaneity, to- gether with the identity of the truths it engenders, constitutes the identity of the human race. Spontaneity gives pure truth, and in all men the same truth. Reflection, as the element of difference, ■ is the source of diversity and of error. Reflection, in analyzing the different elements of which the primitive synthesis of thought is composed, may attach itself to one or the other of these ele- ments, exclusively, or with various degrees of partiality. Hence the errors, and the diversity of errors, that have prevailed in the world : hence the variety of individuul opinions and characters. They arise from the partial, exclusive, and various developement of reflection. — What reflection is to the individual, history is to the race. Hence the distinguishing character of different epochs in the history of mankind, is found in the predominance of some one element of intelligence. But as there are only three such ele- ments, there are three, and only three, grand epochs in the history and developement of mankind. — The principles already announced, likewise apply to the history of philosophy, — which discovers the successive developement and predominance of the essential ele- ments of intelligence ; and the diversity of their developement, by reflection, in various systems. The vantage ground afforded by these principles, enables us to discover the part of error and the part of truth in each partial and exclusive system, which, as founded on an exclusive view of the elements ofintelhgence, is necessarily erroneous, and at the same time, as involving some one of those elements, necessarily has its part of truth. Such, briefly, is the system of M. Cousin. It will be perceived, ^-^t once, that the grand peculiarity of it consists in the solution, and in the mode of solution, of the question concerning the objec- tive and absolute in regard to human knowledge ; in other words, the possibility of philosophy, except as the science of the subjec- tive and relative. This is indeed the great problem of philosophy ; and the distinctive character of every system is determined by its solution of this problem. The Sensual system, deducing all thought and all knowledge from sensation, cannot of course find the infinite : it reduces it to the fijiite, confounds it with the finite, and by confounding destroys ; INTRODUCTION. XXVll and, according as it is more or less consequent, denies, or admits by an inconsistency. The true solution of the universe, by this system, is in the finite, and in one term of it, namely, matter. It cannot however rest even in this solution ; in its last logical con- sequences it destroys itself, by going out into absolute nihilismj^fe^o r The Scottish school of Reid and Stewart, distinguish^'^^* recognized the element of the intelligence, confounded by ism ; and vindicated for it a subjective reality, under th constituent laws of the human mind, or principles of co!^nion sense. Their enumeration is arbitrary, and their reduction in- complete. Their solution of the infinite is properly only subjec- tive. The result of their principles gives it as a necessary conviction, an irresistible belief, which, however — though purely subjective, having a necessity relative only to the human mind in reflection — was postulated as justifying the assertion of a corres- ponding objective reality, although it cannot be made the object of immediate knowledge. — Kant completely enumerated the ele- ments of the human intelHgence ; his reduction, however, is im- perfect. But in regard to the absolute, the infinite, as has been seen, he made it merely a regulative principle of thought, denied explicitly the possibility of any knowledge beyond the science of the subjective ; he denied also that the subjective, considered merely as intelligence, afforded any ground for the assertion of a corresponding objective reality. God is a necessary conception, an object of invincible faith ; but the only legitimate ground for this faith is the moral interest of the practical reason. This, how- ever, cannot be taken as a scientific basis : considered as such, it is equally subjective as the regulative principles of the speculative intelligence, and equally liable to the objections which he urges against the latter, when applied beyond the limits of conscious- ness. — Thus, that which was already subjective in the timid and inconsequent Idealism of the Scottish school, becomes more deci- sively subjective in the Idealism of Kant ; and neither of them establish the infinite as an object of knowledge. This Cousin attempts to do, in the manner already explained. He joins with Schelling, against Kant, in denying the personal and subjective nature of intelligence, and in asserting for philosophy a positive science of the infinite, immediately known by the intelli- gence as impersonal and divine. But while Schelling, if we do XXVlll INTRODUCTION. not mistake him, denies this knowledge to the consciousness, and refers it to a capacity for knowledge above consciousness, which is the absolute identity of being and knowing, of the finite and the infinite — Cousin maintains that consciousness is necessarily im- plied in intelligence, and that the knowledge of the infinite is given in the spontaneous consciousness as above explained. Concerning the success of M. Cousin's attempt to fix the infinite as a positive in knowledge, and concerning the possibility of any solution of this problem, different opinions may be entertained. But whatever may be thought in regard to these points, a high interest attaches to M. Cousin's labori^, as an expounder of the history of philosophy. His profound and accurate acquaintance with the whole range of philosophical learning, his exact and just comprehension of philosophical doctrines and sys-tems, and his lu- cid and faithful exposition of them, will certainly be appreciated by all competent judges. In general critical ability, and particu- larly in the talent for analysis, he has few equals. We pass now to give some account of the course of lectures on the History of Philosophy in the Eighteenth Century, of which this volume contains a part. It must, however, be limited to the brief- est indications. Having, in his Introduction to the History of Philosophy, ex- plained the scope and method, the system and general spirit of his instruction, M. Cousin proceeds, in the lectures on the philosophy of the 18th century, to elucidate, extend, and confirm the historical principles before developed, by applying them to the 18th century. It is his principle, that the philosophy of an age proceeds from all the elements of which the age is composed ; hence the necessity of studying the philosophy of the 18th century, first in the general history of that period. The general character of the 18th century resembles that of the two preceding centuries, inasmuch as it continues the charac- teristic movement of that period ; it differs from it, only as it de- velopes that movement on a larger scale. The Middle Ages was the reign of authority — every thing was fixed and controlled ; the 16th and 17th centuries commenced a new movement, in the spirit of independence ; it was the age of conflict and revolution. The 16th and 17th centuries undermined and shook the middle ages. The mission of the 18th century was to continue and complete INTRODUCTION. XXix that movement, — to overthrow and put an end to the middle ages. This mission determines the general spirit of the 18th century. This spirit is displayed in all the great manifestations of the age — political — moral — rehgious — literary — and scientific. In all these respects, there is a diminution of the powers and influences which predominated in the middle ages ; and, finally, the exten- sion and predominance of new and unknown powers and influences. The spirit of the 18th century is a spirit of independence, of scru- tiny, of analysis, in regard to all things. This movement began obscurely, and proceeded with a comparatively slow and latent progress at first, but with a constantly accelerating march towards the close of the period. The general character of the philosophy of the 18th century is determined by the general character of the period. The philoso- phy of this epoch likewise continues, developes, and completes the philosophical movement of the former period. This movement was in the reaction against the spirit of authority in philosophy which predominated in the middle ages. This reaction — which began in the 16th century, by the springing up of the spirit of independence ; and which continued with increasing strength du- ring the 17th — gains the victory in the 18th ; completes and puts an end to the middle ages in the matter of philosophy. The 16th century was, to this philosophical revolution, what the 15th was to the religious reformation ; — a period of necessary preparation, filled with struggles, and often with unsuccessful struggles, against the predominant spirit of authority ; and, like that, it had its mar- tyrs. Bruno and Vanini were the Huss and Jerome of this philo- sophical revolution. The 16th century was a blind attack upon the principle of authority, as it existed in the Scholastic philoso- phy. The 17th century renewed the conflict, established the revolution, and destroyed Scholasticism. — The mission of the 18th century was to continue and consummate this revolution, by over- throwing the general spirit of authority in philosophy, and estab- lishing the general spirit of independence. In fact, it generalized the conflict of the preceding period ; propagated the spirit of in- dependence in every direction of thmking ; and, finally, established philosophy as a distinct and independent power. XXX INTRODUCTION. Thus the general mission of the 18th century was to continue and complete the movement of independence, begun in the two preceding centuries ; and to put a final end to the middle ages in every thing, — politics, life, art, and science. Analagous to this, the special mission of philosophy in the 18th century, was to complete the movement before begun therein, to put an end to the middle ages in regard to philosophy, by destroy- ing, in this respect, the principle of authority, and circumscribing it within its proper limits, those of theology. Now this was a complex and laborious task, mixed with results of good and of evil. The reaction against authority might go too far : freedom is liable to be pushed to licentiousness ; and while the object is to reduce religious authority within its legitimate sphere^ namely, theology, theology itself may be attacked. Instances of this occur in the philosophy of the 18th century ; still, a large share of the most illustrious names are no less distinguished for a profound submission and respect to religion, than by the spirit of independence in regard to philosophy. Next comes the consideration of the method of philosophy in the 18th century. The middle ages was the reign of Hypothesis. The 16th century was a sort of insurrection of the new spirit against the old, and could not organize itself and take the form £ind consistence of an established method. But in the 17th cen- tury, the true Method began to be formed under Bacon and Des- cartes ; ihough in the latter it ran out at last into hypothesis. In the 18th century, the question concerning method became the fun- damental question. In this century was completed the triumph of the method of experiment over hypothesis ; its triumph, that is, in regard to its principle, namely, analysis. Analysis was gene- rahzed, extended every where, and established as an exclusive power in philosophy. — The triumph of analysis has likewise its part of good and its part of evil. Its good is found in the destruc- tion of hypothesis, and of false synthesis, and in a vast collection of accurate experiments and observations. Its evil is found in the neglect of synthesis, which is, equally with analysis, an element of the true experimental method. Then follows a view of the different systems of philosophy em- braced in the 18th century. These systems are the same as those of the two preceding centuries ; neither more nor less. The only INTRODUCTION. XXXI difference is, that the philosophy of the 18th century developes these systems in grander proportions, and on a larger scale. They are the same systems, moreover, which are to be found in the 15th and 16th centuries, — in the middle ages, — in Greece, — in the East. The reason is, that all these systems have their root in human na- ture, independent of particular times and places. The human mind is the original, of which philosophy is the representation, more or less exact and complete. We are therefore to seek from the human mind the explanation of the different systems, which, born of philosophy, share all its changes, its progress, and its perfec- tionment ; — which, starting up in the east, in the cradle of human- ity, after traversing the globe, and successively appearing in Greece, in the middle ages, in the modern philosophy commencing with the 16th century, — have met together in Europe in the 18th cen- tury. The result of this examination gives, as a matter of fact in the history of philosophy, four great schools or systems of philosophy, which comprehend all the attempts of the philosophical spirit, and which are found in every great epoch of the world. These sys- tems are Sensualism, Idealism, Scepticism, and Mysticism. Sensualism takes sensation as the sole principle of knowledge. Its pretension is, that there is not a single element in the con- sciousness, which is not explicable by sensation. This exclusive pretension is its error. A part of our knowledge can be explained by sensation ; but another part, and that a very important part, cannot. Its necessary consequences are fatalism, materialism, emd atheism. On the other hand. Idealism, as an exclusive system, takes its point of departure from the reason or intelligence, from the ideas or laws which govern its activity ; but instead of contenting itself with denying the exclusive pretension of Sensualism, and asserting the origin of an important part of our knowledge in the reason, and thus vindicating the truths destroyed by sensualism, — ^it finds all reality in the mind alone, denies matter, absorbs all things, God and the universe, into individual consciousness, and that into thought ; just as, by a contrary error. Sensualism absorbs con- sciousness and all things into sensation. Sensualism and Idealism are two dogmatisms equally true in one view, equally false in an- other ; and. both result in nearly equal extravagances. XXXU INTRODUCTION. Scepticism, in its first form, is the appearance of common sense on the scene of philosophy. Disgusted with the extravagances of the two exclusive systems, which mutually conflict and destroy each other, reflection proceeds to examine the bases, the processes and results of those systems ; and it easily and undeniably demon- strates that, in all these respects, there is much error in both the systems. But in its weakness, it falls likewise into exclusiveness and exaggeration ; and finally declares that every system is false, and that there is no such thing as truth and certainty within the gTcisp of the mind. Thus scepticism results in equal extravagance. Its distinctive position, that there is no truth, no certainty, is the absurd and suicidal dogmatism : It is certain that there is no certainty. The fourth system is Mysticism. The word is not used vaguely, but in a precise sense ; and designates the principle of a distinct philosophical system. — The human mind, indeed, when tossed about amidst conflicting systems, and distressed by the sense of inability to decide for itself, yet feeling the inward want of faith, — a spirit the reverse of the dogmatic and scornful scepticism, may despair of philosophy, renounce reflection, and take refuge within the circle of theology. This is doubtless often the fact, though there is, in the opinion of Cousin, an obvious inconsistency in it ; for it takes for granted, that the objections which scepticism brings against every system, and which the mind cannot refute, are not as valid against a religious as a philosophical system. — The re- nunciation of reflection is not, however, what Cousin means by Mysticism. It is reflection itself, building its system on an ele- ment of consciousness overlooked by Sensualism, and by Idealism, and by Scepticism. This element is spontaneity, which is the basis of reflection. Spontaneity is the element of faith, of religion. Reflection effects a sort of philosophical compromise between reli- gion and philosophy, by falling back and grounding itself upon that fact, anterior to itself, which is the point where religion and philosophy meet — the fact of spontaneity. This fact is primitive, unreflective, accompanied by a lively faith, and is exalting in its influence. It is reason, referred to its eternal principle, and speak- ing with his authority in the human intelligence. It is on this element of truth that Mysticism reposes. But this system, like the others, in the exaggeration of its principles and in its neglect INTRODUCTION. XXXiil of the other elements of human nature, engenders multiplied ex- travagances ; the delusions of the imagination, and nervous sensi- bility, taken for revelations, neglect of outward reality, visions, theurgy, &c. These systems all have their utility ; positively, in developing respectively some element of intelligence, and in cultivating some part of human nature and of science ; — negatively, in limiting each other, in combatting each other's errors, and in repressing each other's extravagances. As to their intrinsic merit, it is a favorite position with Cousin : They exist ; therefore there is reason for their existence ; there- fore they are true, in whole or in part. Error is the law of our nature ; but not absolute error. Absolute error is unintelligible, inadmissible, impossible. It is not the error that the human mind behoves ; it is only in virtue of the truths blended with it that error is admitted. These four systems are, respectively, partly true and partly false. The eclectic spirit is not absolutely to reject any one of them, nor to become the dupe of any one of them ; but, by a discriminating criticism, to discern and accept the truth in each. This is the scope and attempt of M. Cousin's historical and critical labors. These four systems are the fundamental elements of all philoso- phy, and consequently of the history of philosophy. They are not only found in the 18th century, but they exist, and re-appear successively in every great epoch of the history of man. Pre- viously, therefore, to entering upon the examination of these sys- tems as they exist in the 18th century. Cousin reviews their respective antecedents in the East, in Greece, in the middle age, and in the 16th and 17th centuries. He traces and developes the Sensual, the Ideal, the Sceptical, and the Mystical schools, in each of those periods. The principal portion of his first volume is oc- cupied with this review. Our hmits forbid us to follow him. It can only be remarked, that, along with the other schools, he finds also the Sensual school. He finds it \vith all its distinctive traits in the philosophy of India ; he traces it through the twelve centu- ries filled by Grecian philosophy, from its commencement in the Ionian school, to Aristotle and the Peripatetics ; thence to its re-ap- pearance in the middle age, involved in the scholastic nominalisn of Occam ; thence to its more decided announcement in Pompona- XXXIV INTRODUCTION. tius, Telesio, and Campanella, in the 15th and 16th centuries ; and finally in modem philosophy, in Hobbes, Gassendi, and others, the immediate predecessors of Locke. He then comes to a detailed examination of Locke as the true father of the Sensual school, and of the various sensual systems included in it, in the 18th century. In this examination of the Essay on the Understanding, he signal- izes its general spirit and its method ; he exhibits its systematic principle, its applications, and all its consequences, explicit or involved. He carefully discriminates its part of truth from its part of error ; and if his conclusions result in the overthrow of the exclusive and systematic principles and principal positions of Locke's work, it is because his analysis led him to this. Of the truth and exactness of this analysis, the reader will judge. CRITICAL EXAMINATION OP ' LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, CHAPTER FIRST. CONTENTS OF CHAPTER FIRST. General spirit of the Essay on the Human Understanding. — Its Method. Study of the Human Understanding itself, as the necessary introduction to all true philosophy. — Study of the Human Understand- ing in its action, in its phenomena, or ideas. — Division of the inquiries relating to ideas, and determination of the order in which those investi- gations should be made. To postpone the logical and ontological ques- tion concerning the truth or falsity of ideas, and the legitimacy or illegitimacy of their application to their respective objects ; and to con- centrate our investigations upon the study of ideas in themselves, — and in that, to begin by describing ideas as they actually are, and then to proceed to the investigation of their origin. — Examination of the Method of Locke. Its merit : he postpones and places last the question of the truth or falsity of ideas. Its fault : he entirely neglects the question concerning the actual character of ideas, and begins with that of their origin. First mistake of Method ; chances of error which it involves. — General tendency of the School of Locke. Recapitulation. CHAPTER I. The first question which arises, in examining the Essay on the Human Understandings respects the authority upon which it rehes in the last analysis. Does the author seek for truth at his own risk, by the force of reason alone ; or does he recognize a foreign and superior authority to which he submits, and from which he borrows the grounds of his judgments 1 This is indeed, as you know, the question which it is necessa- ry to put at the outset to every philosophical work, in order to determine its most general character, and its place in the histo- ry of philosophy, and even of civilization. A single glance is enough to show that Locke is a free seeker of truth. Every where he appeals to the reason. He starts from this authority, and from this alone ; and if he subsequently admits another, it is because he arrived at it by reason ; so that it is the reason which governs him, and, as it were, holds the reins of his mind. Locke belongs then to the great family of indepen- dent philosophers. The Essay on the Hmnan Understand- ing is a fruit of the movement of independence in the eigh- teenth century, and it has sustained and redoubled that move- ment. This character passed from the master to his whole school, and was thus recommended to all the friends of human reason. — I should add that in Locke, independence is always united with a sincere and profound respect for every thing worthy of respect. Locke is a philosopher, and he is at the same time a christian. That is one of his titles of honor. But it must be said that if in the Essay on the Human Under standing there is a tincture of sound piety and true Christianity, it is Christianity in a sort reduced to its most general expression. Locke frequently quotes the sacred scriptures and pays hom- age to them ; but never enters into the interior of those doc- trines and mysteries in which, nevertheless, the metaphysics of 8 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Christianity reside. Locke is a child of the reformation and of protestantism ; he even inclines toward Socinianism, and though certainly within the bounds of Christianity, is upon the very hmit of it. Such is the chief. As to his school, you know what it has been. The master is independent, yet still christian ; the disciples are independent, but their indepen- dence passed rapidly into indifference, and from indifference to hostility. I mention all this, because it is important that you should hold in your hand the thread of the movement and progress of the Sensual school. I now pass to the question which comes next after that con- cerning the general spirit of every philosophical work, namely the question of Method. You know the importance of this question. It ought by this time to be very obvious to you, that as is the method of a philosopher, so will be his system, and that the adoption of a method decides the destinies of a philosophy. Hence our strict obligation to insist on the me- thod of Locke with all the care of which we are capable. What then is that method which, in its germe, contains the whole system of Locke, the system that has produced the Sen- f sual school of the eighteenth century ? We will let Locke I speak for himself In his preface he expresses himself thus : " Were it fit to trouble thee with the history of this Essay, I I should tell thee, that five or six friends, meeting in my cham- / ber, and discoursing on a subject very remote from this, found J themselves quickly at a stand, by the difficulties that arose on \ every side. After we had awhile puzzled ourselves without coming any nearer a resolution of those doubts which perplex- ed us, it came into my thoughts that we took a wrong course ; and that before we set ourselves upon inquiries of that nature, it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and see what objects our understandings were, or were not, fitted to deal with. This I proposed to the company, who all readily assented ; and thereupon it was agreed that this should be our first in- quiry. Some hasty and undigested thoughts on a subject I ^ad never before considered, which I set down against our next meeting, gave the first entrance into this discourse; ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. g which having been thus begun by chance, was continued by intreaty ; written by incoherent parcels ; and after long inter- vals of neglect, resumed again, as my humour or occasions! permitted ; and at last, in a retirement, where an attendance on my health gave me leisure, it was brought into that order thou now seest it." He returns to the same thought in the Introduction which follows the preface. B. I. Ch. 1. § 2. — " I shall not at present meddle with the physical consideration of the mind, or trouble myself to ex- amine wherein its essence consists, or by what motions of our spirits, or alterations of our bodies, we come to have any sen- sation by our organs, or any ideas in our understandings ; and whether those ideas do, in their formation, any or all of them, depend on matter or no. These are speculations, which, however curious and entertaining, I shall decline, as lying out of my way, in the design I am now upon. It shall suffice to my present purpose, to consider the discerning faculties of a man, as they are employed about the objects which they have to do with." Locke is persuaded that this is the only way to repress the rashness of philosophy, and at the same time to encourage useful investigations. B. I. Ch. 1. § 4. — "If, by this inquiry into the nature of the understanding, I can discover the powers thereof, how far they reach, to what things they are in any degree proportion- ate, and where they fail us, I suppose it may be of use to pre- vail with the busy mind of man, to be more cautious in meddling with things exceeding its comprehension; to stop when it is at the utmost extent of its tether ; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance of those things, which, upon examina- tion, are found to be beyond the reach of our capacities. We should not then perhaps be so forward, out of an affectation of an universal knowledge, to raise questions and perplex our- selves and others about things to which our understandings are not suited, and of which we cannot frame in our minds any clear and distinct perceptions, or whereof (as it has per- 2* 10 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. haps too often happened) we have not any notions at all. If we can find out how far the understanding can extend its view, how far it has faculties to attain certainty, and in what cases it can only judge and guess, we may learn to content ourselves with what is attainable by us in this state." § 6. " When we know our own strength^ we shalLthe better know what to undertake with hopes of success : and when we have well surveyed the pollers of 6ur own minds, and made some estimate what we may expect from them, we shall not be inclined either to sit still and not set our thoughts on work at all, in despair of knowing anything ; or, on the other side, question every thing, and disclaim aU knowledge, because some things are not to be understood." And again in the same section : " It is of great use to the sailor, to know the length of his line, though he cannot with it fathom all the depths of the ocean. It is well he knows that it is long enough to reach the bottom, at such places as are necessary to direct his voy- age, and caution him against running upon shoals that may ruin him." I will add but one more quotation. § 7. " This was that which gave the first rise to this Essay concerning the understanding. For I thought that the first step towards satisfying several inquiries the mind of man was very apt to run into, was to take a survey of our own under- standings, examine our own powers, and see to what things they were adapted. Till that was done, I suspected we be- gan at the wrong end ." I have brought together all these citations on purpose to convince you that they contain not merely a fugitive view, but a fixed rule, a Method. Now this method, in my judgment, is precisely the true method, the same which at this day con- stitutes the power and the hope of science. Unquestionably it exists in Locke obscurely and indefinitely, not only in its ap- plication, but even in its annunciation. In order to make it more clear and definite, let me present it in somewhat more modern language. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 11 Whatever be the object of knowledge or inquiry, God or the world, beings the most remote or near, you neither know nor can know them but under one condition, namely, that you have the faculty of knowledge in general ; and you nei- ther possess nor can attain a knowledge of them except in pro- portion to your general faculty of knowledge. Whatever you attain a knowledge of, the highest or the lowest thing, your knowledge in the last result rests, both in respect of its extent and of its legitimacy, upon the reach and the vaHdity of that faculty, by whatever name you call it, — Spirit, Reason, Mind, Intelligence, Understanding. Locke calls it Understanding. It follows, then, that the sound philosopher, instead of begin- ning with a bhnd and random application of the Understand- ing, ought first to examine that faculty, to investigate its na- ture and its capacity ; otherwise he will be liable to endless aberrations and mistakes. Now the Understanding forms a part of human nature ; and the study of the Understanding unpHes a more extended study — the study of human nature itself This, then, is pre-eminently the study which ought to precede and direct all others. There is no part of philosophy which does not presuppose it, and borrow its light from it. Take, for example, Logic, or the science of the rules which ought to direct the human mind, — what would it be without a knowledge of that which it is the object to direct, the human mind itself? So also of Morals, the science of the principles and rules of action, — what could that be without a knowledge of the subject of morality, the moral agent, man himself? Politics, the science or the art of the government of social man, rests equally on a knowledge of man, whom in his social nature, society may develope, but cannot constitute. Esthetics, the science of the Beautiful, and the theory of the Arts, has its root in the nature of a being made capable to recognize and reproduce the beautiful, to feel the particular emotions which attest its presence, and to awaken those emo- tions in other minds. So also if man were not a religious being, if none of his faculties reached beyond the finite and bounded sphere of this world, there would be for him no God. 12 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. God exists for man^ only in proportion to his faculties ; and the examination of those faculties and of their capacity, is the indispensable condition of every sound Theodicy. In a word, the nature of man is implied in every science, however appa- rently foreign. The study of man is then the necessary in- troduction to every science ; and this study, call it Psychology, or by any other name, though it certainly is not the whole of Philosophy, must be allowed to be its foundation and its start- ing point. But is a knowledge of human nature, is Psychology possi- ble ? Without doubt it is ; for it is an undeniable fact, that nothing passes within us which we do not know, of which we have not a consciousness. Consciousness is a witness which gives us information of every thing which takes place in the interior of our minds.* It is not the principle of any of our faculties, but is a light to them all. It is not because we have the consciousness of it, that any thing goes on within us ; but that which does go on within us, would be to us as though it did not take place, if it were not attested by consciousness. It is not by consciousness that we feel, or will, or think ; but it is by it we know that we do all this. The authority of conscious- ness is the ultimate authority into which that of all the other faculties is resolvable, in this sense, namely, that if the former be overthrown, as it is thereby that the office and action of all the others, even that of the faculty of knowing itself, comes to be known, their authority, without being in itself destroyed, would yet be unknown to us, and consequently nothing for us. Thus it is impossible for any person not to rely fully upon his own consciousness. At this point, skepticism itself expires ; for, as Descartes says, let a man doubt of every thing else, he cannot doubt that he doubts. Consciousness, then, is an un- questionable authority ; its testimony is infallible, and no indi- vidual is destitute of it. Consciousness is indeed more or less distinct, more or less vivid, but it is in all men. No one is unknown to himself, although very few know themselves per- * See Appendix, Note A. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 13 fectly, because all or nearly all make use of consciousness with- out applying themselves to perfect, unfold, and understand it, by voluntary effort and attention. In all men, consciousness is a natural process ; some elevate this natural process to the degree of an art, a method, by reflection, which is a sort of second consciousness, a free reproduction of the first ; and as consciousness gives to all men a knowledge of what passes within them, so reflectior^^ gives the philosopher a certain knowledge of every thing which falls under the eye of con- sciousness.* It is to be observed that the question heje is not concerning hypotheses or conjectures ; for it is not even a question concerning a process of reasoning. It is solely a question of facts, and of facts that aie equally capable of being observed as those which come to pass on the sc6ne of the out- ward world. The only difference is, the one are exterior, the other interior ; and as the natural action of our faculties carries us outward, it is more easy to observe the one than the other. But with a little attention, voluntary exertion, and practice, one may succeed in internal observation as well as in external. The talent for the latter is not more common than for the former. The number of Bacons is not greater than the num- ber of Descartes. In fine, if Psychology were really more difficult then Physics, yet in its nature, the former is, equally with the latter, a science of observation, and consequently it has the same title and the same right to the rank of a positive science. But we must understand its proper objects. The objects of Psychology are those of reflection, which again are those of consciousness. Now it is evident the objects of consciousness are neither the outward world, nor God, which are not given us in themselves ; nor is it even the soul itself as to its sub- stance, for if we had a consciousness of the substance of the soul, there would be no more dispute concerning its nature, whether it be material or spiritual. The only direct object of consciousness is the soul in its manifestation, that is in its » See Appendix, Note B. 14 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. faculties, that is to say again, its faculties in their exercise and action, in theii" application to their objects. But neither the objects of these faculties, nor their subject and substance, are objects of consciousness. The essence, the being in itself, whatever it be, whether of bodies, or of God, or of the soul, falls not under consciousness. It directly attains only to phe- nomena. If, then, phenomena are the sole objects of con- sciousness, and consequently of reflection, and consequently again of psychology, it follows that the proper characteristic of psychology is a complete separation of itself from every research relative to essences, that is from ontology. True philosophy does not destroy ontology, but it adjourns it. Psychology does not dethrone ontology, but precedes and clears it up. It does not employ itself in constructing a physical or metaphysical romance concerning the nature of the soul, but it studies the soul in the action of its faculties, in the phenomena which result therefrom, and which conscious- ness may attain, and does directly attain. This may put in clear view the true character of the Essay on the Human Understanding. It is a work of psychology and not of ontology. Locke does not investigate the nature and principle of the understanding, but the action itself of this faculty, the phenomena by which it is developed and mani- fested. Now the phenomena of the understanding Locke calls ideas. This is the technical word which he every where em- ploys to designate that by which the understanding manifests itself, and that to which it immediately applies itself. Introduction, § 8. "I have used it," says he, 'Ho express whatever is meant (we must here recollect the predecessors of Locke, the Schoolmen,) by phantasm^ notion, species, or whatever it is which the mind can be employed about in thinking. I presume it will be easily granted me that there are such ideas in men's minds ; every one is conscious of them in himself ; and men's words and actions will satisfy him that they are in others." It is very obvious that by ideas are here meant the pheno- mena of the understanding, of thought, which the conscious- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 15 ness of every one can perceive in himself when he thinks, and which are equally in the consciousness of other men, if we judge by their words and actions. Ideas are to the under- standing- what effects are to their causes. The understanding reveals itsfelf by ideas, just as causes by their effects, which at once manifest and represent them. Hereafter we shall ex. amine the advantages and disadvantages of this term, and the theory also which it involves. For the present it is enough to state it and to signalize it as the watchword of the philoso- phy of Locke. The study of the understanding is with ; Locke and with all his school, the study of ideas ; and hence the celebrated word Ideology, recently formed to designate the science of the human understanding. The source of this ex- pression already lay in the Essay on the Human Understand- ing, and the Ideological school is the natural daughter of Locke.* Here, then, you perceive the study of the human under- standing reduced to the study of ideas ; now this study em- braces several orders of researches which it is important defi- nitely to determine. According to what has been said, ideas may be considered under two points of view : we may in- quire if, in relation to their respective objects, they are true or false ; or, neglecting the question of their truth and falsity, their legitimate or illegitimate apphcation to their objects, we may investigate solely what they are in themselves as they are manifested by consciousness. Such are the two most general questions which may be proposed respecting ideas. The order in which they are to be treated cannot be doubtful. It is obvious enough, that to begin by considering ideas in re- lation to their objects, without having ascertained what they are in themselves, is to begin at the end ; it is to begin by in- vestigating the legitimacy of results, while remaining in ignorance of their principles. The correct procedure, then, is to begin by the investigation of ideas, not as true or false, properly or improperly applicable to such or such objects, and ♦ See Appendix, Note C. 16 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. consequently as being or not being sufficient grounds for such or such opinion or knowledge, hut as simple phenomena of the understanding, marked by their respective characteristics. In this way unquestionably should the true method of ob- servation proceed. This is not all. Within these limits there is ground like- wise for two distinct orders of investigation. We may investigate by internal observation the ideas Avhich are in the human understanding as it is now developed in the present state of things. The object, in this case, is to collect the phenomena of the understanding as they are given in consciousness, and to state accurately their differences and re- semblances, so as to arrive at length at a good classification of all these phenomena. Hence the first maxim of the method of observation : to omit none of the phenomena attested by consciousness. Indeed you have no option ; they exist, and they must for that sole reason be recognized. They are in reahty in the consciousness ; and they must find a place in the frame- work of your science, or your science is nothing but an illusion. The second rule is : to imagine none, or to take none upon mere supposition. As you are not to deny any thing which is ; so you are not to presume any thing which is not.. You are to invent nothing and you are to suppress nothing.' To omit nothing, to take nothing upon supposition ; these are the two maxims of observation, the two essential laws of the experimental method applied to the phenomena of the understanding, as to every other order of phenomena. And what I say of the phenomena of the understanding, I say also of their characteristics ; none must be omitted, none taken upon supposition. Thus having omitted nothing, and taken nothing upon supposition, having embraced all the ac- tual phenomena and those only, with all their actual charac- teristics and those only ; you will have the best chance of arriving at a legitimate classification, which will comprehend the whole reality and nothing but the reahty, the statistics of the phenomena of the understanding, that is of ideas, com- plete and exact. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 17 This done, you will know the understanding as it is at present. But has it always been what it is at present ? Since the day when its operations began, has it not undergone many changes? These phenomena, whose characters you have with so much penetration and fidehty analyzed and reprodu- ced, have they always been what they are and what they now appear to you ? May they not have had at their birth certaia characters which have disappeared, or have wanted at the outset certain characters which they have since acquired ? This is a point to be examined. Hence the important ques- tion of the origin of ideas or the primitive characters of the phenomena of the understanding. When this second ques- tion shall be resolved ; when you shall know what in their birth-place have been the same phenomena which you have studied and learned in their actual form ; when you shall know what they were, and what they have become ; it will be easy for you to trace the route by which they have arrived from their primitive to their present state. You will easily trace their genesis, after having determined their actual present state, and penetrated their origin. It is then only that you will know perfectly what you are ; for you will know both what you were, and what you now are, and how from what you were you have come to be what you are. Thus will be completely known to you, both in its actual and in its primi- tive state, and also in its changes, that faculty of knowledge, that intelligence, that reason, that spirit, that mind, that un- derstanding, which is for you the foundation of all know- ledge. The question of the present state of our ideas, and that of their origin, are then two distinct questions, and both of them are necessary to constitute a complete psychology. In so far as psychology has not surveyed and exhausted these two or- ders of researches, it is unacquainted with the phenomena of the understanding ; for it has not apprehended them under all their aspects. It remains to see with which we should com- mence. Shall we begin by investigating the actual characters of our ideas, or by investigating their origin 7 For as to thei 18 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. process of their generation and the passage from their primi- tive to their present state, it is clear that we can know nothing of itj till after we have exactly recognized and determined both the one and the other state. But which of these two shall we study first ? Shall we begin, for example, with the question of the origin of ideas ? It is without doubt a point extremely curious and extremely important. Man aspires to penetrate the origin of every thing, and particularly of the phenomena that pass within him. He cannot rest satisfied without having gained this. The question concerning the origin of ideas is undenia- bly in the human mind ; it has then its place and its claim in science. It must come up at some time, but should it come up the first ? In the first place it is full of obscurity. The mind is a river which we cannot easily ascend. Its g^ource, like that of the Nile, is a mystery. How, indeed, shall w^e catch the fugitive phenomena, by which the birth and first spring- ing up of thought is marked? Is it by memory ? But you have forgotten what passed within you then ; you did not even remark it. Life and thought then go on without our heed- ing the manner in which we think and live ; and the memory yields not up the deposite tKat was never entrusted to it. Will you consult others ? They are in the same perplexity with yourself Will you make the infant mind your study ? But who will unfold what passes beneath the veil of infant thought ? The attempt to do it readily conducts to conjec- tures, to hypotheses. But is it thus you would begin an ex- perimental science ? It is evident that if you start with this question concerning the origin of ideas, you start with pre- cisely the most difficult question. Now if a sound method ought to proceed from the better known to the less known, from the more easy to the less easy, I would ask whether it ought to commence with the origin of ideas ? This is the first objection. Look at another. You begin by investigating the origin of ideas ; you begin then by investigating the origin of that of which you are ignorant, of phenomena which you have not studied. What origin could you then find but a ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 19 liypothetical origin ? And this hypothesis will be either true or false. Is it true ? Very well then : you have happened to divine correctly ; but as divination, even the divination of genius, is not a scientific process, so the truth itself thus dis- covered, cannot claim the rank of science : it is still but hy- pothesis. Is it false ? Then instead of truth under the vicious form of an hypothesis, you have merely an hypothesis with- out truth. Accordingly you may see what will be the result. As this hypothesis, that is to say in this case this error, will have acquired a hold in your mind ; when you come in ac- cordance with it to explain the phenomena of the intelligence as it is at present, if they are not what they ought to be in order to establish your hypothesis, you wall not on that ac- count give up your hypothesis. You will sacrifice reahty to it. You will do one of two things : you will boldly deny all ideas which are not explicable by your hypothetical origin ; or you will arrange them arbitrarily and to the support of your hypothesis. Certainly it was not worth while to have made choice, with so much parade, of the experimental method, to falsify it afterwards by putting it upon a direction so perilous. Wisdom, then, good sense and logic demand, that omitting provisionally the question of the origin of ideas, we should be content first to observe the ideas as they now are, the char- acters which the phenomena of intelhgence actually have at present in the consciousness. This done, in order to complete our investigations, in order to go to the extent of our capacity and of the wants of the human mind, and of the demands of the experimental prob- lems, we may interrogate ourselves as to what have been in their origin the ideas which we at present possess. Either we shall discover the truth, and experimental science, the science of observation and induction will be completely achieved ; or we shall not discover it, and in that case nothing will be either lost or compromised. We shall not have attained all possible truth, but we shall have attained a great part of the truth. We shall know what is, if we do not know what was ; and we shall always be prepared to try again the delicate question 20 FXEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. of the origin of ideas, instead of having all our ulterior inves- tigations impaired, and observation perverted beforehand, by the primary vice of our method in getting bewildered in a premature inquiry. The regular order then of psychological problems may be settled in the following manner : 1. To investigate without any systematic prejudice, by ob- servation solely, in simplicity and good faith, the phenomena of the understanding in their actual state as they are at pres- ent given in consciousness, dividing and classifying them ac- cording to the known laws of scientific division and classifica- tion. 2. To investigate the origin of these same phenomena or ideas by all the means in our power, but with the firm resolu- tion not to suffer what observation has given, to be wrested by any hypothesis, and with our eyes constantly fixed on the present reality and its unquestionable characters. To this question of the origin of ideas is joined that of their formation and genesis, which evidently depends upon and is involved in it. Such in their methodical order are the different problems included in psychology. The slightest inversion of this order is full of danger and involves the gravest mistakes. Indeed you can easily conceive, that if you treat the question of the legitimacy of the application of our ideas to their external ob- jects, before learning what these ideas exactly are, what are their present actual characters and what their primitive char- acters, what they are and fi:om whence they spring, you must wander at hazard and without a torch in the unknown world of ontology. Again : you can conceive, that even within the limits of psychology, if you begin by wishing to carry by main force the question of the origin of ideas, before knowing what these ideas are, and before you have recognized them by observation, you seek for light in the darkness which will not yield it. Now, how has Locke proceeded, and in what order has he taken up these problems of philosophy ? ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 21 Introduction, Sect. 3. " I shall pursue, says he, this fol- lowing method : Firsts I shall inquire into the origmctl of those ideas ^ notions, or whatever else you please to call them, which a man observes, and is conscious to himself he has in his mind ; and the ways whereby the understanding comes to be fur- nished with them. Secondly^ I shall endeavor to show what knoioledge the understanding hath by those ideas ; and the certainty, evi- dence, and extent of it. Thirdly, I shall make some inquiry into the nature and grounds of faith or opinion ; whereby I mean that assent which we give to any proposition as true, of whose truth yet we have no certain knowledge : and here we shall have occasion to examine the reasons and degrees of assent." It is evident that the two latter points here indicated, refer collectively to one and the same question, that is the general question of the legitimacy or illegitimacy of the application of our ideas to their external objects ; and the question is here given as the last question of philosophy. It is nothing less than the adjournment of the whole logical and ontological in- quiry until after psychology. Here is the fundamental charac- teristic of the method of Locke, and in this the originahty of his Essay. We agree entirely with Locke in this respect, with this provision however, that the adjournment of ontology shall not be the destruction of it. Now remains the first point, which is purely psychological, and which occupies the greatest part of Locke's work. He here declares that his first inquiry will be into the origin of ideas. Now here are two radical errors in point of method : — 1. Locke treats of the origin of ideas before investigating what they are, before tracing the statistics and preparing the inven- tory of them. 2. He does still more : he not only puts the . question of the origin of ideas before that of the inventory of ideas with their actual characters ; but he entirely neglects the latter question. It was aheady running a great hazard to put the one question before the other ; for it was seeking 3* 22 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. an hypothesis at the very outset, even though afterwards the hypothesis should be confronted with the actual reality of con- sciousness. But how will it be when even this possibihty of return to truth is interdicted, when the fundamental question, of the inventory of our ideas and their actual characters, is absolutely omitted ? Such is the first aberration of Locke. Locke recognizes and proclaims the experimental method ; he proposes to apply it to the phenomena of the understanding, to ideas ; but not being profoundly enough acquainted with this method, which indeed was then in its infancy, he has not apprehended all the questions to which it gives rise ; he has not disposed these questions in their true relation to each other ; has miscon- ceived and omitted the chief question, that which is eminently the experimental problem, namely, the observation of the ac- tual characters of our ideas ; and he has fallen at the outset upon a question which he ought to have postponed, the ob- scure and difficult question of the origin of our ideas. What then must the result be? Either^ 1, Locke will hit upon the true origin of ideas by a sort of good luck and divination, which I should rejoice in ; but however true it may really be, it could never take a legitimate place in science except upon this condition, that Locke should subsequently demonstrate that the characters of our ideas are all in fact explicable and explained in all their extent by the origin which he supposes ; — or else ^ 2, Locke will deceive himself : now, if he deceives himself, the error will not be a particular error, confined to a single point, and without influence upon the rest. It will be a general error, an immense error, which will corrupt all psy- chology at its source, and thereby all metaphysics. For in faithfully adhering to his hypothesis, to the origin which he had beforehand assigned to all ideas without knowing pre- cisely what they were, he will necessarily sacrifice all ideas which cannot be reduced to this origin ; and this origin, being not only an hypothesis, but an error, he will sacrifice unspar- ingly (for there is nothing more uncompromising than the spirit of systematic consistency) to an error every thing ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 23 which in his ulterior researches cannot be made to agree with it. The falsehood of the origin will spread out over the actual present state of the intelligence, and will hide even from the eyes of consciousness the actual characters of our ideas. Thus when observation shall come tardily in, if it comes at all, it will beforehand have been misled by the spirit of system and vitiated by false data. Hence it will result that from applica- tion to application of this hypothesis, that is from error to error, the human understanding and human nature will be more and more misconceived, reality destroyed and science per- verted. You see the rock ; it remains to learn if Locke has made shipwreck upon it. We do not know, for as yet we are igno- rant what he has done, whether he has been so fortunate as to divine correctly ; or whether he has had the fate of most diviners, and of those who take at venture a road they have never measured. We suppose ourselves to be at present igno- rant, and we shall hereafter examine. But here is a proper place to remark, that it is in great part from Locke, is derived in the eighteenth century, and in all his school, the habit and system of placing the question of the origin and genesis of ideas at the head of all philosophical inquiries. All the school start from this question ; that is to say, this school which eulogizes so much the experimental method, is the one which corrupts it and misleads it at the very starting-point. It takes up the question of origin in respect to everything. In metaphysics, it is pre-occupied with inquiring what are the first ideas which enter into the mind of man. In morals, neglecting the actual facts of man's moral nature, it searches for the first ideas of good and evil which rise in the mind of man con- sidered in the savage state or in infancy, two states in which experience is not very sure, and may be very arbitrary. In pohticsj it seeks for the origin of society, of government, of laws. In general, it takes fact as the equivalent of right ; and all philosophy, for this school, is resolved into history, and his- tory the most dim and shadowy, that of the first age of hu- manity. Hence the political theories of this school, eo opposite 84 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. in their results, while at the same time so identical in their general spirit and character. Some, burying themselves in ante-historical or anti-historical conjectures, find as the origin of society force and conquerors ; the first government which history presents to them is despotic ; hence the idea of govern- ment is the idea of despotism ; for according to them it is the origin which it concerns us to know, it is the origin which gives to .everything its true character. Others, on the con- trary, in the convenient obscurities of the primitive state, per- ceive a contract, reciprocal stipulations and titles of hberty, which subsequently were made to give way to despotism, and which the present times ought to restore. In both cases alike, the legitimate state of human society is always drawn from its supposed primitive form, from that form which it is almost impossible to trace ; and the rights of humanity are left at the mercy of a doubtful and perilous erudition, at the mercy of conflicting hypotheses. In fine, from origin to origin, they have gone on even to investigate and settle the true nature of humanity, its end, and all its destiny, by geological hypothesis ; and the last expression of this tendency is the celebrated Telliamed of Maillet.* To recapitulate : the most general character of the philoso- phy of Locke is independence ; and here I openly range my- self under his banner, though with the necessary reservations, if not side by side with the chief, at least side by side with his school. In respect to method, that of Locke is psychological, or ideological, (the name is of little consequence ;) and here again I declare myself of his school. But from not sufticient- ly comprehending the psychological method, and not distin- guishing the diflferent spheres of inquiry in which it may be employed, I accuse him of having commenced by an order of investigations which in the eye of strict reason is not the first ; I accuse him of having commenced by an order of inquiries which necessarily puts psychology upon the road of hypothe- * See Appendix, Note E. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 25 sis, and which more or less destroys its experimental charac- ter ; and it is here that I withdraw myself from him.* Let us recollect where we are. We have seen Locke enter- ing upon a hazardous route. But has he had the good fortune, in spite of his bad choice, to arrive at the truth, that is to say, at the true origin of ideas ? What is, according to him, this origin ? This is the very basis of the Essay on the Human Understanding, the system to which Locke has attached his name. This will be the subject of our future discussions. * See Appendix, Note F. CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING CHAPTER SECOND CONTENTS OF CHAPTER SECOND. First Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. Of Innate Ideas.— Second Book. Experience, the source of all ideas. Sensation and Reflection. — Locke places the development of the sensibility before that of the operations of the mind. Operations of the Mind. According to Locke they are exercised only upon sensible data. Basis of Sensu- alism. — Examination of the doctrine of Locke concerning the idea of Space. — That the idea of Space, in the system of Locke, should and does resolve itself into the idea of Body. — This confusion contradicted by facts, and by Locke himself. — Distinction of the actual characters of the ideas of Body and of Space : 1, the one contingent, the other neces- sary ; 2, the one limited the other illimitable ; 3, the one a sensible re- presentation, the other a rational conception. This distinction ruins the system of Locke. Examination of the origin of the idea of space. Distinction between the logical order and the chronological order of ideas. — Logical order. The idea of space is the logical condition of the idea of body, its foundation, its reason, its origin, taken logicall}''. — The idea of body is the chronological condition of the idea of space, its origin, taken chronologically. — Of the Reason, and Experience, consid- ered as in turn the reciprocal condition of their mutual development. — Merit of the system of Locke. — Its vices : 1 , confounds the measure of space with space ; 2, the condition of the idea of space with the idea itself. CHAPTER II. Locke, it is true, is not the first who started the question concerning the origin of ideas ; but it is Locke who first made it the grand problem of philosophy ; and since the time of Locke it has maintained this rank in his school. For the rest, although this question is not the first which in strict method should be agitated, yet certainly, taken in its place, it is of the highest importance. Let us see how Locke re- solves it. In entering upon the investigation of the origin of ideas, Locke encounters an opinion, which if it be well founded, would cut short the question : I refer to the doctrine of innate ideas. In truth, if ideas are innate, that is to say, as the word seems to indicate, if ideas are already in the mind at the mo- ment when its action begins, then it does not acquire them, it possesses them from the first day just as they will be at the last, and properly speaking, they have no points of progress, of gen- eration and of origin. This doctrine then is opposed to the very design of Locke, to begin with the question of the origin of ideas. It is opposed also to the solution which he wished to give of this question, and to the system with which he was pre-occupied. It behoved him, then, first of all, to begin by re- moving this obstacle, by refuting the doctrine of innate ideas. Hence the polemic discussion which fills the first book of the Essay on the Understanding. It is my duty to give you some account of this controversy. According to Locke there are philosophers who consider certain principles, certain maxims and propositions, pertaining to metaphysics and morals, as innate. Now on what grounds can they be called innate? Two reasons may be and liave been given : 1, that these propositions are universally admit- 4 30 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ted ; 2, that they are primitive, that they are known from the moment the reason is exercised. Now Locke in examining these two reasons finds, that even if they were sound and true in themselves, which he denies, they yet altogether fail to estabhsh the doctrine of innate ideas. In metaphysics, he takes the two following propositions, namely : '' what is, is,^^ and, " it is impossible for the same thing to be, and not to be ;" — and he examines if in fact, all men admit these two propositions. Passing by civilized men who have read the philosophers, and who would certain- ly admit these propositions, he has recourse to uncivilized na- tions, to savage people, and he inquires if a savage knows that " what is, is," and " the same is the same." He replies for the savage, that he knows nothing about these proposi- tions, and cares nothing. He interrogates the infant, and finds that the infant is in the same case as the savage. Fi- nally supposing that savages and infants, as well as civilized people, admit that what is, is, and that the same is the same ; Locke has in reserve an objection which he beheves unan- swerable, namely, that idiots do not admit these propositions, and this single exception suffices, according to Locke, to de- monstrate that they are not universally admitted, and conse- quently that they are not innate, for certainly the soul of the idiot is a human soul. Examining again if these propositions are primitive, if they are possessed at the first, and as soon as men come to the use of reason, Locke still takes a child for the subject of his experi- ment, and maintains that there are a crowd of ideas which precede them, the ideas of colours, of bodies, the idea of exist- ence ; and thus the propositions in question are not the first which preside over the developement of inteUigence. So much for speculative propositions. It is the same with practical : Locke subjects moral propositions or maxims to the same test as metaphysical. Here he rests even more strongly on the manners of savages, on the recitals of travellers, and on the observation of infants. His conclusion is that there is no ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 31 moral maxim, universally and primitively admitted, and con- sequently, innate. Such are the first two chapters of the first book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. The last goes stiii^''^^ farther. If the propositions and maxims, metaphysical' and moral, before examined, are neither universally nor primitive- ly admitted, what must we think of the ideas which are con- tained in these propositions, and which are the elements of them ? Locke selects two of them, upon which he founds an extended discussion, namely, the idea of God, and the idea of substance. He has recourse to his ordinary arguments to prove that the idea of God, and that of substance, are neither universal nor primitive. Here, as in respect to the metaphys- ical propositions and the principles of morality and justice, he appeals to the testimony of savage nations, who, according to him, have no idea of God ; he appeals also to infants to know if they have the idea of substance : and he concludes that these ideas are not innate, and that no particular idea, nor any general proposition, speculative or moral, exists anterior to experience. As ever since Locke, the question concerning the origin of ideas has become the fundamental question in the Sensual school, so also it is to be remarked that ever since Locke, the controversy against innate ideas has become the necessary in- troduction of this school. And not only the subject, but the manner of treating it, came from Locke. Ever since his time, the habit has prevailed of appeaUng to savages and to children, concerning whom observation is so difficult ; for in regard to the former, it is necessary to recur to travellers who are often prejudiced, who are ignorant of the languages of the people they visit ; and as to children, we are reduced to the observa- tion of very equivocal signs. The controversy of Locke, both in its substance and its form, has become the basis of every subsequent controversy in his school, against innate ideas. Now what is the real value of this controversy ? Permit me to adjourn this question. For if we should give it merely 32 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. a general discussion, it would be insufficient, and if we should discuss it more profoundly, it would anticipate some particular discussions which the examination of the Essay on the Un- derstanding will successively bring up. Reserving, then, for the present, my judgment on the conclusions of the first book, I enter now upon the second, which contains the special theory of Locke, on the question of the origin of ideas. " Let us then suppose, says Locke, (B. IL chap. L § 2,) the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characters, without any ideas; how comes it to be furnished ? Whence comes it by that vast store which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it, with an almost endless var%y ? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowFedge ? To this I answer, in one word, from experience ; in that all our knowledge is founded, and from that it ultimately derives itself. Experience, then, this is the banner of Locke : it has be- come that of his whole school. Without adopting or rejecting it, let us accurately determine what it covers. Let us see what Locke understands by experience. I leave him to speak for himself : B. IL ch. L § 2. " Our observation, employed either about external sensible objects, or about the internal operations of our minds, perceived and reflected on by ourselves, is that which suppUes our understandings" with all the materials of thinking. These two are the fountains of knowledge from whence all the ideas we have, or can naturally have, do spring." § 3. " The objects of sensation one source of ideas. First, Our senses^ conversant about particular sensible objects, do convey into the mind several distinct perceptions of things, according to those various ways wherein those ob- jects do affect them : and thus we come by those idea^ we have of yellow^ white, heat, cold, soft, hard, hitter, sweet, and all those things which we call sensible qualities ; which, when I say the senses convey into the mind, I mean, they from external objects convey into the mind what produces ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 33 there those perceptions. This great source of most of the ideas we have, depending wholly upon our senses, and deri- ved by them to the understanding, I call Sensation. § 4. " The operations of our fninds the other source of ideas. ^^ Secondly, The other fountain from which experience furnisheth the understanding with ideas, is the perception of the operations of our own mind within us, as it is employed about the ideas it has got ; which operations, when the soul comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish the understanding with another set of ideas, which could not be had from things without ; and such are perception, thinking.^ doubting, he- lieving, reasoning, knowing, willing, and all the different actings of our own minds ; which we being conscious of, and observing in ourselves, do from these receive into our under- standings as distinct ideas, as we do from bodies affecting our senses. This source of ideas every man has wholly in him- self ; and though it be not sense, as having nothing to do with external objects, yet it is very Hke it, and might properly enough be called internal sense. But as I call the other Sensation, so I call this Reflection, the ideas it affords being such only as the mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within itself. By Reflection, then, in the following part of this discourse, 1 would be understood to mean, that notice which the mind takes of its own operations, and the manner of them ; by reason whereof there come to be ideas of these operations in the Understanding. These two, I say, namely, external material things, as the objects of Sensation, and the operations of our own minds within, as the objects of Reflec- tion, are to me the only originals from whence all our ideas take their beginnings. The term operations, here I use in a large sense, as comprehending not barely the actions of the mind about its ideas, but some sort of passions arising some- times from them ; such as is the satisfaction or uneasiness arising from any thought. § 5. " All our ideas are of the one or the other of these. — The understanding seems to me not to have the least glim- 34 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. mering of any ideas, which it doth not receive from one of these two. External objects furnish the mind with the ideas of sensible qualities^ which are all those different per- ceptions they produce in us : and the mind furnishes the understanding with ideas of its own operations. These, when we have taken a full survey of them, and their several modes, combiaations and relations, we shall find to contain all our whole stock of ideas ; and that we have nothing in our minds which did not come in one of these two ways." Thus, then, we have two sources of ideas, sensation and reflection. From these two sources flow all the ideas which can enter the understanding. Such is the theory of the origin of ideas according to Locke. At the outset, you will observe that Locke here evidently confounds reflection with consciousness. Reflection in strict language is undoubtedly a faculty analogous to consciousness,* but distinct from it, and pertains more particularly to the phi- losopher, while consciousness pertains to every man as an in- tellectual being. Still more Locke arbitrarily reduces the sphere of reflection or consciousness by limiting it to the " operations" of the soul. It is evident that consciousness or reflection has for its objects all the phenomena which pass within us, sensations or operations. Consciousness or reflec- tion is a witness and not an actor in the intellectual life. The true powers, the special sources of ideas are sensations on the one hand, and the operations of the mind on the other, only under this general condition, that we have a conscious- ness of the one as well as the other, and that we can fall back upon ourselves and reflect upon them and their products. To these two sources of ideas, in strictness, the theory of Locke is reduced. Now which of these two sources is developed the first ? Is it the sensibihty ; or is it the operations of our soul, Avhich enter first into exercise ? Locke does not hesitate to pronounce * See the preceding chapter. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 35 that our first ideas are furnished by the sensibiHty : and that those which we owe to reflection come later. He declares this in B. IL ch. I. § 8, and still more explicitly in § 20 :" I see no reason to believe that the soul thinks before the senses have furnished it lolth ideas to think on." And again, § 23 : " If it shall be demanded, then, when a man begins to have any ideas, I think the true answer is, when he first has any sensatioji ." Thus Locke admits two distinct sources of ideas : he does not confound the operations of the soul with sensations, but he places the dev elopement of the one before that of the other, the acquisitions of the senses be- fore that of thought. — Now we might pause here, and demand if this order is real ; if it is possible to conceive, not perhaps a sensation, but the idea of a sensation, without the intervention and concurrence of some of the operations of the soul, and those the very operations which he arbitrarily postpones. But without entering into this objection, let it suffice to state the fact that Locke does not admit the operations of the mind to have place until after the sensations. It remains to see what these operations do, and what are their proper functions ; upon what, and in what sphere, they are carried on, what is their extent, and whether, supposing them not to enter into exer- cise till after the sensibility, they are, or are not condemned to act solely upon the primitive data furnished to them by the senses. In order to this, it is necessary to examine with care the nature and object of the operations of the mind, according to Locke. Locke is the first who has given an analysis, or rather an attempt at an analysis of the sensibility, and of the different senses which compose it, of the ideas which we owe to each of them, and to the simultaneous action of several, (B. II. ch. II. § 2 : ch. III., IV. and V.) He Ukewise is the first who gave the example of what subsequently in the hands of his successors became the theory of the faculties of the mind. That of Locke, curious, and precious even, for the times, is in itself extremely feeble, vague and confused. Faithful, how- 36 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ever, to the spirit of his philosophy, Locke attempts to present the faculties in the order of their probable developement. The first of which he treats is percejjtion^ (B. IL ch. IX. § 2.) " What perception is, every one will know better by reflecting on what he does himself, what he sees, hears, feels, (fee, or thinks, than by any discourse of mine. Whoever re- flects on what passes in his own mind, cannot miss it : and if he does not reflect, all the words in the world cannot make him have any notion of it." § 3. " This is certain, that what- ever alterations are made in the body, if they reach not the mind ; whatever impressions are made on the outward parts, if they are not taken notice of within ; there is no percep- tion." § 4. " Wherever there is sense, or perception, there is some idea actually produced, and present to the understand- ing." And, § 15. " Perception is the first degree towards knowledge." — The perception of Locke is undeniably con- sciousness, the faculty of perceiving what actually passes within us. After perception comes retention, (chap. X. § 1.) or the power of retaining actual perceptions, ideas, and of contem- plating them when present, or of recalling them when they have vanished. In this latter case, retention is memory, the aids to which are attention and repetition. Then comes the faculty of distinguishing ideas, (ch. XL) and that of comparing them ; from whence spring all the ideas of relation, not to omit the faculty of composition^ from whence spring all the complex ideas which come from the combination of several simple ideas. And finally, at a later period, the faculty of abstraction and generalization is de- veloped. Locke reckons no other faculties. Thus in the last analysis, perception, retention or contemplation and memory, discernment and comparison, composition, abstrac- tion ; — these are the faculties of the human understanding ; for the will, together with pleasure and pain, and the passions, which Locke gives as operations of the mind, form another order of phenomena. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 37 Now what is the character and what is the office of these operations ? About what, for example, is perception exerci- sed, to what is it appHed ? To sensation. And what does it ? It does nothing but perceive the sensation, nothing but have a consciousness of it. Add, according to Locke, (ch. ix. § L) that the perception is passive, forced, inevitable, it is still nothing but the effect of sensation. The first faculty of the mind, then, adds nothing to the sensation ; it merely takes knowledge of it. In retention, contemplation continues this perception ; when faded, the memory recalls it. Discernment separates, composition re-unites these perceptions ; abstraction seizes their most general characters : but still, the materials are always, in the last analysis, ideas of sensation render- ed up to perception. Our faculties connect themselves to these ideas, and draw from them every thing contained in them ; but they do not go beyond them, they add nothing to the knowledge which they draw from them, but that of their existence and of their action. Thus, on the one hand, sensation precedes ; on the other, the understanding is, for Locke, only an instrument, whose whole power is exhausted upon sensation. Locke, to be sure, has not confounded sensation and the faculties of the mind ; he has most explicitly distinguished them ; but he makes our faculties sustain a secondary and insignificant part, and con- centrates their action upon the data of the senses. From this, to the point of confounding them with the sensibility itself, it is but a step, and here is the germe, as yet feeble, of that sub- sequent theory of sensation transformed^ of sensation as the sole and single principle of all operations of the mind.* It is Locke who, without knowing it, or wishing it, has opened the route to this exclusive doctrine, by adding to sensation only faculties whose sole office is to operate upon it without any proper and original power of their own. The Sensual school, properly speaking, is not completely formed till it has * As maintained by Condillac and other successors of Locke, of the French Sensual School. — Ed. 88 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. arrived at that point. In the meantime, while waiting till we are called to examine the labors of those by whom the system of Locke was urged onward to this point, let us take up this system at what it now is, or rather at what it holds out itself to be, namely, the pretension of explaining all the ideas that are or can be in the human understanding, by sensation, and by reflection, or the feeling of our own operations. " If we trace the progress of our minds," says Locke, (ch. xii. § 8. ) " and with attention observe how it repeats, adds to- gether, and unites its simple ideas received from sensation or reflection, it will lead us farther than at first perhaps we should have imagined. And I believe we shall find, if we warily observe the originals of our notions, that even the most ab- struse ideas, how remote soever they may seem from sense, or fi'om any operations of our own minds, are yet only such as the understanding frames to itself, by repeating and joining together ideas, that it had either from objects of sense, or fi:om its own operations about them : so that those even large and abstract ideas are derived from sensation or reflection^ be- ing no other than what the mind, by the ordinary use of its own faculties, employed about ideas received from objects of sense, or from the operations it observes in itself about them, may and does attain unto. This I shall endeavour to show in the ideas we have of space^ time, and hifinityj and some few others, that seem the most remote from those originals." All in good time. This has a little the air of a challenge. Let us accept it, and let us see, for example, how Locke will deduce the idea of space from sensation and fi-om reflection. I am a httle embarrassed, in attempting to expound to you the opinion of Locke concerning space, and I have need to recall to your minds here an observation I have already made. Locke is the chief of a school. We are not to expect, then, that Locke has drawn from his principles all the consequences which these principles contain ; nor even are we to expect that the inventor of a principle should establish it with the most perfect clearness and precision. This remark, which is true of the whole Essay on the Human Understanding, is ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 39 particularly true of the chapters where Locke treats of the idea of space. There reigns, under a clearness sometimes real, but oftener exterior and superficial, an extreme confu- sion ; — and contradictions direct and express, are met not only in different chapters, but even in different paragraphs of the same chapter. — Unquestionably it is the duty of the critical historian to relieve these contradictions, in order to characterize the era and the man, but history is not merely a monography ; it is not concerned solely with an individual, however great he may be ; it investigates particularly the order and progress of events, that is to say, in respect to the history of philosophy, of systems. It is the germe of the future which it seeks in the past. I shall attach myself, then, after having pointed out once for all, the innumerable inconsistencies of Locke, to the task of disengaging from the midst of these barren incon- sistencies, whatever there is that is fruitful, whatever has borne his fruits, that which constitutes a system and the true system of Locke. This system, you know, consists in dedu- cing all ideas from two sources, sensation and reflection. The idea of space, then, being given, it must necessarily be traced to one or the other of these two origins. The idea of space is certainly not acquired by reflection, by consciousness of the operations of the understanding. It rem ains, the n^ that 4t- must come from sensation. According to Locke it is derived "from sensation. Here you have his systematic principle. We shall allow Locke to start from this principle, and sys- tematically deduce the idea of space from it. But Locke does not set up to reform the human understanding ; his office is to explain it. He is to show the origin of that which is, not of that which might be or ought to be. The problem, then, for him, as for every other philosopher, is this : the principle of his system being given, to deduce from it that which now is, the idea of space, such as it is in the minds of all men. We shall therefore allow him to pro- ceed according to his system ; then we shall take from the heads of this system, the idea of space as given by it, and we 40 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. shall confront it with the idea of space as we have it, such as all men have it, independently of any system whatever. According to Locke, the idea of space comes from sensation. Now from what sense is it derived ? It is not from the sense of smelling, nor of taste, nor of hearing. It must then be from sight and touch. So Locke says, B. II. ch. XIII. § 2. " We get the idea of space both by our sight and touch, which I think is so evident," Sec. If the idea of space is an acquisition of the sight and touch, in order to know what it should be under this condition, we must recur to previous chapters, where Locke treats of the ideas we gain by the sight, and especially by the touch. Let us see what the touch can give according to Locke, and according to all the world. The touch, aided or not aided by sight, suggests the idea of something which resists ; — and to resist is to be solid. " The idea of solidity, says Locke, (ch. IV. § 1,) we receive by our touch, and it arises from the resistance which we find ." And what are the qualities of a solid, of that something which resists ? Greater or less degree of solidity. The greater solidity is hardness ; less is softness ; from hence, also, perhaps, figure, with its dimensions. I^ake, then, your solid, your something which resists, with its different qualities, and you have every thing which the touch, whether aided or not aided by sight, can give you. This something which resists, which is solid, which is more or less so, which has such or such a figure, the three dimensions, is in a single word, body. The touch, then, with the sight, does it suffice to give us that which resists, the solid with its qualities, body ? I do not wish to examine any further. Analysis would perhaps force me to admit here a necessary intervention of something, alto- gether different, besides the sense of touch. But I now choose rather to suppose that, in reality, the touch, sensation, gives the idea of body, such as I have just determined it. That sensation may go thus far, I am wilUng to grant ; that it goes farther, I deny, and Locke does not pretend. In that exact, ingenious, and unassailable chapter, in which, almost without anything of the spuit of system, he investigates the products ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 41 of sight and touch, Locke deduces nothing from them but the idea of solid, that is to say, of body. If afterwards, and in the spirit of system, he pretends, as we have seen he does, that the idea of space is given to us by sensation, that is, by the sight and touch, it follows that he reduces the idea of space to that of body, and that, for him, space can be nothing else but body itself, — body enlarged, indefinitely multiplied, the world, the universe, and not only the actual, but the possible universe. In fact, (ch. XIII. § 10,) Locke says : " the idea of place we have by the same means that we get the idea of space, (whereof this is but a particular and limited considera- tion) namely, by our sight and touch ." Same chap- ter, same section : " to say that the world is somewhere, means no more than that it does exist ." It is clear, that is to say, that the space of the universe is equivalent to neither more nor less than to the universe itself, and as the idea of the universe is, after all, nothing but the idea of body, it is to this idea, that the idea of space is reduced. Such is the necessary genesis of the idea of space in the system of Locke. There are, it is true, in these chapters, many contradictory paragraphs, and the contradictions are sometimes of the most gross and obvious kind ; but it is no less true, that the system of Locke being given, that is to say here, sensation being given as the sole principle of the idea of space, the result which necessarily follows, is the idea of space just such as Locke has made it. Look once moi'e at the principle : the iilea of space is given by the sight and touch ; and then see the result : to inquire if the world exists somewhere, is to in- quire if the world exists. Upon the road, it is true, Locke does not march with a very firm step ; he makes more than one false step ; however, he arrives at the result which I have stated, and which his system imposed upon him. Now is this result the reality ? The idea of space, the offspring of sensation, the systematic daughter of touch and of sight, is it the idea of space such as it exists in your minds, and in the minds of all men 1 Let us see, if at present, such as we are 5 42 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. we confound the idea of body and the idea of space, if they are to us but one and the same idea. But in bringing ourselves to the test of such an experiment, let us beware of two things which corrupt every experiment. Let us beware of having in view any particular systematic conclusion ; and let us beware of thinking of any origin whatever, for, the pre-occupation of the mind by such or such an origin, would, unconsciously even to ourselves, engage us in a false course, make us attribute to ideas whose actual and present character it is our duty to observe, some specific char- acter, too much in reference to the origin which we internally prefer. We will investigate afterwards the systematic con- clusions which may be drawn from the experiment we wish to institute ; hereafter we will also follow up the origin of the idea. But our present object and our only object, is to state, without any prejudice and without any foreign view, what this idea actually is. ^ Is the idea of space, then, reducible in the understanding to the idea of body ? This is the question. And it is a ques- tion of fact. Let us take whatever body you please : take this book which is before our eyes and in our hands. It re- sists, it is solid, it is more or less hard, it has a certain figure, &c. Do^ you think of nothing more in regard to it ? Do you not believe, for instance, that this body is somewhere, in a certain place 1 Be not surprised at the simplicity of my question ; we must not be afraid of recalling philosophers to the simplest questions ; for precisely because they are the sim- plest, philosophers often neglect them, and systematize before they have interrogated the most evident facts, which being omitted or falsified, precipitate them into absurd systems. Is this body then any where ? is it in some place ? Yes, undoubtedly, all men will reply. Very well, then, let us take a larger body, let us take the world. Is the world some- where also, is it in some place ? Nobody doubts it. Let us take thousands, and ten thousands of worlds, and can we not, concerning these ten thousands of worlds, put the same ques- tion which I have just put concerning this book ? Are they ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 43 somewhere, — are they in some place, — are they in space? We may ask the question concerning a world and millions of worlds, as well as the book ; and to all these questions, you reply equally ; the book, the world, the million of worlds, are somewhere, are in some place, are in space. There is not a human being, unless it may be a philosopher pre-occupied with his system, who can for a moment doubt what I have just said. Take the savage, to whom Locke appeals, take the child, and the idiot also, if he be not entirely ' one, take any human being who has an idea of any body whatever, a book, a world, a milHon of worlds ; and he will believe, naturally, without being able to give an account of it, that the book, the world, the million of worlds, are somewhere, are in some place, are in space. And what is it to acknowledge this ? It is to recognize, more or less implicitly, that the idea of a book, a world, a million of worlds, solid, resisting, situatedin space, is one thing ; and that the idea of space, in which the book, the world, the million of worlds, are situated, is another thing. The idea of space, then, is one thing, and the idea of body is another thing. This is so evident that Locke himself, when not under the yoke of his system, distinguishes perfectly the idea of body from that of space, and establishes the difference very clearly. Thus, for instance, B. IL chap. XIII. § 11 : " There are some that would persuade us that body and extension are the same thing : who either change the signi- fication of words, which I would not suspect them of, they having so severely condemned the philosophy of others, be- cause it hath been too much placed in the uncertain meaning, or deceitful obscurity of doubtful or insignificant terms. If tlierefore they mean by body and extension the same that other people do, viz. by body^ something that is solid and ex- tended, whose parts are separable and moveable different ways ; and by extension, only the space that lies between the extremities of those solid coherent parts, and which is possess- ed by them : they confound very different ideas one with another. For I appeal to every man's own thoughts, wheth- 44 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. er the idea of space be not as distinct from that of solidity, as it is from the idea of scarlet colour ? It is true, solidity cannot exist without extension, neither can scarlet colour ex- ist without extension ; but this hinders not, but that they are distinct ideas." Various considerations are then added which develope at length the difference of body and space ; considerations which occupy more than ten sections, and to which I must refer you, lest I multiply citations too much. Thus, according to Locke himself, the idea of space, and the idea of body are totally distinct. To estabhsh this dis- tinction, and place it in clearer light, let us now notice the different characters which these two ideas present. You have an idea of a body. You believe that it exists. But is it possible to suppose, and could you suppose, that such a body did not exist ? I would ask you, can you not suppose this book to be destroyed ? Undoubtedly. Can you not also suppose the whole world to be destroyed, and no body to be actually existing ? Unquestionably you can. For you, constituted as you are, the supposition of the non- existence of bodies involves no contradiction. And what do we term the idea of a thing which we conceive as possibly non-existent ? It is termed a contingent and relative idea. But if you should suppose the book destroyed, the world de- stroyed, all matter destroyed, could you suppose space de- stroyed ? Can you suppose that if there were no body exist- ent, there would then no longer remain any space for the bodies which might come into existence ? You are not able to make the supposition. Though it is in the power of the human mind, to suppose the non-existence of body, it is not in its power to suppose the non-existence of space. The idea of space is then necessary and absolute. You have, then, two characteristics perfectly distinct, by which the ideas of body and of space are separated. Moreover, every body is evidently limited. You embrace its limits in every part. Magnify, extend, multiply the body by millions of similar bodies, you have removed, enlarged the ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 45 limits of the body, but you have not destroyed its limits ; you conceive them still. But in regard to space, it is not so. The idea of space is given to you as a continuous whole, in which you can very readily form useful and convenient divisions, but at the same time artificial divisions, under which subsists the idea of space without hmit. For, beyond any determin- ate portion of space, there is space still ; and beyond that space, there is still space forever and forevermore. Thus while body has necessarily in all its dimensions something else which bounds it, namely the space which contains it, — there are, on the contrary, no limits to space. The idea of body, moreover, is not complete without the idea of form and figure, which implies that you can always represent it under a determinate form : it is always an image. Far otherwise with space, which is a conception, and not an image ; and as soon as you conceive of space by imagining it, as soon, that is, as you represent it under any determinate form whatever, it is no longer space, of which' you form a conception, but something in space, a body. The idea of space is a conception of the reason, distinct from all sensible representation. I might pursue this opposition of the ideas of body and of space. But it is sufficient to have stated these three funda- mental characteristics : 1. The idea of body is contingent and relative, while the idea of space is necessary and absolute ; J2. The idea of body implies the idea of limitation, the idea of space implies the absence of all limitation ; 3. And lastly, the idea of body is a sensible representation, while the idea of space is a pure and wholly rational conception. If these characteristics are incontestibly those of the idea of space and the idea of body, it follows that these two ideas are profoundly, distinct, and that no philosophy which pretends to rest on the observation of the phenomena of the under- standing should ever confound them. Nevertheless, the sys- tematic result of Locke is precisely the confusion of the idea of space with that of body ; and this result necessarily fol- lows from the very principle of Locke. In fact, the idea of 5* 46 FXEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. space condemned beforehand by the system to come from sen- sation, and not being deducible fiom the smell, the hearing, or the taste, was behoved to be derived from* the sight and touch ; and coming from the sight and touch, it could be nothing else than the idea of body, more or less generalized. Now it has been demonstrated that the idea of space is not that of body ; it does not, then, come from sight and touch ; it does not, then, come from sensation ; and as it can still less be deduced from reflection, from the sentiment of our own operations : and as it nevertheless exists, — it follows that all ideas are not derived from sensation and reflection^ and ' the system of Locke concerning the origin of ideas is defec- tive and vicious, at least in regard to the idea of space. But what ! does this vaunted system contain nothing but manifest and destructive contradictions to facts admitted by all men? In order the better to penetrate the system of Locke, and bring out whatever is sound in it, as we have just recognized wherein it is vicious, we must ourselves take stand upon the ground of Locke, and investigate the question which is, with him, the great philosophical problem. After having determined the characteristics of the idea of space and the idea of body, as they now actually exist in the intelligence of all men, and shown that these characteristics establish a profound difference between these tw^o ideas, — we must now inquire what their origin really is ; we must investigate the origin of the idea of space relatively to the idea of body. Every thing thus far, I trust, is simple and clear ; for we have not set foot out of the human intelligence as it now manifests itself Let us advance onward ; but let us endeavor that the Hght which we have already gained from impartial observation, be not quenched in the darkness of any hypothesis. There are two sorts of origin. There are, in the assem- blage of human intellections, two orders of relations which it is important clearly to distinguish. Two ideas being given, we may inquire whether the one does not suppose the other ; whether the one being admitted, ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 47 we must not admit the other likewise, or be guilty of a paralo- gism. This is the logical order of ideas. If we regard the question of the origin of ideas under this point of view, let us see what result it will give in respect to the particular inquiry before us. The idea of body and the idea of space being given, which supposes the other 1 Which is the logical condition of the admission of the other ? Evidently the idea of space is the logical condition of the admission of the idea of body. In fact, take any body you please, and you cannot admit the idea of it but under the condition of admitting, at the same time, the idea of space ; otherwise you would admit a body which was nowhere, which was in no place, and such a body is inconceivable. Take an aggregate of bodies ; or take a single body, since every body is also an aggregate of particles, these particles are more or less distant from each other, and at the same time they co-exist together : these are the conditions of every body, even the smallest. But do you not perceive what is the condition of the idea of co-existence and of distance ? Evidently the idea of space. For how could there be dis- tance between bodies or the particles of a body, without space, and what possible co-existence is there, except in a continu- ous whole ? It is the same with contiguity. Destroy, in thought, the continuity of space, and distance is no longer ap- preciable ; neither co-existence nor contiguity are possible. Moreover, continuity is extension. We are not to believe (and Locke has very clearly established it, B. II. ch. XIII. § 11,) that the idea of extension is adequate to the idea of body. The fundamental attribute of body is resistance; from hence solidity ; but soUdity does not imply in itself that this solidity is extended.* There is no extension but under the condition of a continuity, that is, of space. The exten- ssion of a body, then, already supposes space ; space is not the body or resistance ; but that which resists does not resist ex- * On this important point see the Essay of Dugald Stewart, on the Idealism of Berkely, in his Phil. Essays. 48 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. cept upon some real point.* Now every real point is extended, is in space. Take away, therefore, the idea of space and of extension, and no real body is supposable. Therefore as the last conclusion, in the logical order of human knowledge, the idea of body is not the logical condition of the admission of the idea of space ; but on the contrary, it is the idea of space, of continuity, of extension, which is the logical condition of the admission of the slightest idea of body. Unquestionably, then, when we regard the question of the origin of ideas under the logical point of view, this solution, which is incontestible, overwhelms the system of Locke. Now it is at this point that the Ideal school has in general taken up the question of the origin of ideas. By the origin of ideas, they commonly understand the logical fihation of ideas. Hence they have said, with their last and most illustrious in- terpreter, that so far is the idea of body from being the founda- tion [Kant should have added, the logical foundation] of the idea of space, that it is the idea of space which is the founda- tion (the logical condition) of the idea of body.t The idea of body is given to us by the touch and the sight, that is by ex- perience of the senses. On the contrary, the idea of space is given to us, on occasion of the idea of body, by the under- standing, the mind, the reason ; in fine, by a faculty other than sensation. Hence the Kantian formula : the pure ra- tional idea of space comes so little from experience, that it is the condition of all experience. This bold formula is incon- testibly true in all its strictness, when taken in a certain re- ference, in reference to the logical order of human intellections. But this is not the sole order of intellection : and the logi- cal relation does not comprise all the relations which ideas mutually sustain. There is still another, that of anterior, or posterior, the order of the relative developement of ideas in time, their chronological order. And the question of the origin of ideas may be regarded under this point of view. Now the idea of space, we have just seen, is clearly the logi- * See Appendix, Note G. t See Appendix, Note H. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 49 cal condition of all sensible experience. Is it also thechrono- logical condition of all experience, and of the idea of body ? I believe no such thing. If we take ideas in the order in which they actually evolve themselves in the inteUigence, if we investigate only their history and successive appearance, it is not true that the idea of space is antecedent to the idea of body. Indeed it is so little true, that the idea of space chrono- logically supposes the idea of body, that, in fact, if you had not the idea of body, you would never have the idea of space. Take away sensation, take away the sight and touch, and you have no longer any idea of body, and consequently none of space. Space is the place of bodies ; he who has no idea of a body, will never have the idea of space which contains it. Rationally, logically, if you had not the idea of space, you could not have the idea of a body ; but the converse is true chronologically, and in fact, the idea of space conies up only along with the idea of body : and as you have not the idea of body without immediately having the idea of space, it fol- lows that these two ideas are contemporaneous. I will go farther. Not only may we say that the idea of body is con- temporaneous with the idea of space, but we may say, and ought to say, that it is anterior to it. In fact the idea of space is contemporaneous with the idea of body in this sense, that as soon as the idea of body is given you, you cannot but have that of space ; but in fine, it was necessary that you should have had at first that of a body, in order that upon the idea of a body being given you, the idea of space which contains it, should appear [or be evolved in your consciousness.] It is then by [occasion of] the idea of body, that you go to that of space. Take away the idea of body, and you would never have the idea of space which encloses it. The former, then, may be called the historical and chronological condition of the other. Undoubtedly, and I cannot repeat it too much, for it is the knot of the difficulty, the secret of the problem, undoubtedly as soon as the idea of 'body is given, that instant the idea of space is evolved ; but if this condition be not fulfilled, the 50 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. idea of space would never enter the human understanding. When it is awakened there, it remains fixed, independently of the idea of body which introduced it there, [occasioned its evolution ;] for we may suppose space without body, although we cannot suppose body without space. It is not possible for the reason, in its state of developement, to comprehend the idea of body, unless previously it has formed the idea of space ; but formerly, in the cradle of the human intelhgence, if the idea of body had not been given, never would the idea of space have been evolved in the understanding. The former was the chronological condition of the latter, as the latter is the logical condition of the former.* These two orders are completely reciprocal, and, so to say, in a certain sense all the world are right, and all the world are wrong. Logically^ Idealism and Kant are right, in maintaining that the pure idea of space is the condition of the idea of body, and of ex- perience ; and chronologically ^ Empiricism and Locke are right in their turn, in holding up experience, that, is on this point, sensation, the sensation of sight and touch, as the con- dition of the idea of space, and of the developement of the reason. In general. Idealism more or less neglects the question of the origin of ideas, and scarcely regards them but in their ac- tual character. Taking its position, at the outset, amidst the facts of the understanding as at present developed, it does not investigate their successive acquisition and historical develope- ment ; it does not investigate the chronological order of ideas. It confines itself to their logical validity ; it starts from reason, not from experience. Locke, on the contrary, pre-occupied with the question of the origin of ideas, neglects their actual characters, confounds their chronological condition with their logical ground, and the power of reason with that of experi- ence, which indeed precedes and guides the former, but which does not constitute it. Experience, when put in its just place, is seen to be the condition, but not the ground of knowledge. * See Appendix Note I. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 51 Does it go farther, and pretend to constitute all knowledge 7 It then becomes nothing but a system, a system incomplete? exclusive, and vicious. It becomes Empiricism where it is op- posed to Idealism, which latter is, in its turn, the exaggera- tion of the proper power of Reason, the usurpation of Reason over Experience, the destruction, or the forgetfulness of the chronological and experimental condition of knowledge, and which arises from its exclusive preoccupation with its logical and rational principles. Now it is Locke who has introduced and accredited Empiricism in the Philosophy of the eighteenth century. Locke very clearly saw that we could have no idea of space, if we had not some idea of body. That it is not body, how- ever, which constitutes space, I have proved ; it is body which fills space. If it is body which fills space, it is body which measures it. If it is body which fills and measures space, it follows that if space is not body, we never know any thing concerning space, except what body teaches us. Locke saw this: that is his merit. His fault is, 1, in h aving confound- ed that which fills and measures space and reveals it to us, with the proper idea of space itself ; 2, and this second fault is far more general and comprehensive than the first, in hav- ing confounded the chronological condition of ideas with their logical condition, the experimental data, external or internal, upon condition of which, the understanding conceives certain ideas, with the ideas themselves. This is the most general critical point of view which pre- dominates in all the metaphysics of Locke. I have drawn it from the examination I have just made of his theory and of the idea of space. I may apply it, and I shall apply it, in the succeeding discussions, to his theory of the idea of the infinite, of time, and of other ideas, which Locke has boast- ed, as you know, of deducing easily from experience, from sensation or from reflection. CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING CHAPTER THIRD. CONTENTS OF CHAPTER THIRD. Recapitulation of the preceding chapter.— Continuation of the ex- amination of the second book of the Essay on the Human Understand- ing. Of the idea of Time. — Of the idea of the Infinite. — Of the idea of Personal Identity — Of the idea of Substance. CHAPTER III. I SHALL begin at this time, by placing before you the re- sults at which we arrived in the last lecture. The question was concerning Space. A sound philosophy unquestionably ought not to suppress and destroy th6 ontological questions concerning the nature of space considered in itself ; — whether it is material, or spirit- ual, — whether it is a substance, or an attribute, — whether it is independent of God, or is to be referred to God himself. For all these questions are undeniably in the human mind. But they should be postponed until psychological observations, cor- rectly made and skilfully combined, shall put us in a condition to resolve them. Our first occupation, then, is with the pure- ly psychological question concerning the idea of space. If we interrogate the human understanding, as it is de- veloped in all men, we shall recognize the idea of space with these three characteristics, noticeable among several otliers : 1. Space is given us as necessary, while body is given as that which may or may not exist ; 2. Space is given us as with- out limits, while body is given as limited on every side ; 3. The idea of space is altogether rational, while that of body is accompanied by a sensible representation. The preliminary question concerning the actual character- istics of the idea of space being thus resolved, we may, with- out danger, advance to the far more difficult question concern- ing the origin of the idea. Now here we have carefully dis- tinguished two points of view, which are intimately blended together, but which analysis should separate, namely, the logical order of ideas, and their chronological order. In the logical view, body pre-supposes space; for what is body? The juxta-position, the co-existence of resisting points, that is, of solids. But how could this juxta- position, this co-exist- 50 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ence, happen but in a continuity, in space ? But while, in the order of reason and of nature, body pre-supposes space ; it is true, on the other hand, that in the chronological order, there is a contemporaneousness of the idea of body and that of space ; we cannot have the idea of body without that of space, nor of space without that of body. And if, in this con- temporaneous process, one of these ideas may be distinguish- ed as the antecedent, in the order of time, of the other, it is not the idea of space which is anterior to that of body ; it is the idea of body which is anterior to that of space. It is not from the idea of space that we start ; and if the sensibility, if the touch, did not take the initiative, and give us, immediately, the idea of resistance, of solid, of body, we should never have the idea of space. This initiative, taken by the touch, marks the idea of solid, of body, with the character of an an- tecedent, relatively to that of space. Without doubt the idea of body could never be formed and completed in the mind, if we had not already there the idea of space ; but still, the former idea springs up first in time ; it precedes in some de- gree the idea of space, which [is awakened along with it and] immediately follows it. Here then are the two orders perfectly distinct, and even opposed- to each other. In the order of nature and of reason, body pre-supposes space. In the order of the acquisition of knowledge, on the contrary, it is the confused and obscure idea of solid, of body, which is the condition of the idea of space. Now the idea of body is acquired in the perception of touch, aided by the sight ; it is, then, an acquisition of expe- rience. It is, then, correct to say, that, in the chronological order of knowledge, experience and a certain developement of the senses, are the condition of the acquisition of the idea of space ; and at the same time, as body pre-supposes space, and as the idea of space is given us by the reason, and not by the senses or experience, it is true also that, logically, the idea of space and a certain exertion of the reason, are pre-supposed in experience. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 57 At this point of view, the true character, the merit and the defects of the system of Locke, are discovered. What has Locke done ? Instead of being contented to postpone, he has, I apprehend, destroyed the ontological questions concerning the nature of space. True, indeed, he always has the sagaci- ty to occupy himself, first of all, with the psychological ques- tion concerning the idea of space. But he ought to have tar- ried much longer in the inquiry into the actual characteristics of this idea ; and it was a great fault in him, to throw him- self at the outset upon the question of its origin, ^ow hi s^ general system of the origin of ideas being that all our ideas are derived from two sources, reflection, that is consciousness, and sensation ; and as the idea of space could not come fronr~"C consciousness, it clearly behoved to come from sensation ; and in order to deduce the idea of space from sensation, it was necessary to resolve it into the idea of body. This, Locke^,, has done in the systematic parts of his work, though at the same time contradicting himself more than once ; for some- times he speaks of space as altogether distinct from solidity. But when his system comes up, when he puts upon himself I the necessity of deducing the idea of space from sensation, then he affirms that the idea of space is acquired by [not I merely occasioned by the exercise of] the sight and by the \ touch. Now the touch, aided by the sight, gives us only body, ; and not space ; and by this process alone, Locke, implicitly, ( reduces space to body. He does the same thing, explicitly, , ^ when he says that to ask if the world exists in any place, is / simply to ask if the world exists. This identifying the exist- ^ ence of space with the existence of body, [for it is not merely saying that the existence of the one involves the idea of the existence of the other, which would be allowing two distinct / ideas,] is [if Locke meant anything and understood himself, ^ nothing less than] to identify the idea of space with that of \ body. This identity was necessary to render his system strict, / at least in appearance. — But the universal belief of the hu- \ man race declares that body is one thing, and space, which / encloses it, another thing ; the world and all possible worlds, ^ 6* 58 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. one thing ; the infinite and iUimitable space which would en- close them, another thing. Bodies measure space, but do not constitute it. The idea of body is indeed in time the antece- dent [and occasion] of the idea of space ; but it is not the idea itself. So much for the idea bi space. Let us now proceed far- ther to interrogate the second book of the Essay on the Hu- man Understanding, concerning the most important ideas ; and we shall see that Locke constantly confounds the order of the acquisition of knowledge with the logical order, the neces- sary antecedent of an idea with the idea itself. I propose now to examine the system of Locke in relation to the idea of time, the idea of the infinite, of personal identity, and of sub- stance. I begin, with Locke, with the idea of time. Here the first rule, you know, is to neglect the question con- cerning the nature of time, and to inquire solely what is the idea of time in the human understanding ; whether it is there, and with what characteristics it is there. It is there. There is no one, who, directly he has before his eyes, or represents to his imagination, any event whatever, does not conceive that it has passed, or is passing, in a certain time. I ask whether it is possible to suppose an event, which you are not compelled to conceive as taking place some hour, some day, some week, some year, some century ? There is not an event, real or possible, which escapes the necessity of this conception of a time in which it must have taken place. You can even sup- pose the abolition, the non-existence of every event ; but you cannot suppose this of time. Standing before a time-piece, you may very easily make the supposition, that from one hour to another, no event has taken place ; you are how^ever none the less convinced that time has passed away, even when no event has marked its course. The idea of time, then, hke the idea of space, is marked with the characteristic of necessity. I add, that, like space, it is also illimitable. The divisions of time, like those of space, are purely artificial, and involve the supposition of a unity, an absolute continuity of time. Take millions of events, and (Jo with them as you did with bodies, ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 69 multiply them indefinitely, and they will never equal the time which precedes and which succeeds them. Before all finite time, and beyond all finite time, there is still time, unlimited, infinite, inexhaustible. Finally, as with the idea of spa'ce necessary and illimitable, so is it with the idea of time neces- sary and illimitable ; it is a pure idea of the reason, which escapes all representation, all grasp of the imagination and the sensibility. Now it is with respect to the origin of the idea of time as with the origin of the idea of space. Here again we are to distinguish the order of the acquisition of our ideas from their logical order. In the logical order of ideas, the idea of any succession of events pre-supposes that of time. There could not be any succession, but upon condition of a continuous duration, to the different points of which the several members of the succession may be attached. Take away the continu- ity of time, and you take away the possibility of the succession of events ; just as the continuity of space being taken away, the possibility of the juxta-position and co-existence of bodies is destroyed. But in the chronological order, on the contrary, it is the idea of a succession of events, which precedes the idea of time as including them. I do not mean to say in regard to time, any more than in regard to space, that we have a clear, complete, and finished idea of a succession, and that then the idea of time, as including this series or succession, springs up. I merely say, that it is clearly necessary that we should have a perception of some events, in order to conceive that these events are in time, [and in order along with, and by occasion of, those events to have the idea of time awakened in the mind.] Time is the place of events, just as space is the place of bodies ; whoever had no idea of any event, [no perception of any suc- cession] would have no idea of time. If, then, the logical condition of the idea of succession, lies in the idea of time, the chronological condition of the idea of time, is the idea of succession. 60 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. To this result, then, we are come : the idea of succession is the occasion, the chronological antecedent of the necessary conception of time. Now every idea of succession is undenia- bly an acquisition of experience. It remains to ascertain of what experience. Is it inward, or outward experience? The first idea of succession, — is it given in the spectacle of outward events, or in the consciousness of the events that pass within us ? Take a succession of outward events. In order that these events may be successive, it is necessary that there should be a first event, a second, a third, cfcc. But if, when you see the second event you do not remember the first, it would not be the second ; there could be for you no succession. You would always remain fixed at the first event, which would not even have the character of first to you, because there would be no second. The intervention of memory is neces- sary, then, in order to conceive of any succession whatever. Now memory has for its objects nothing external ; it relates not to things, but to ourselves ; we have no memory but of ourselves. When we say, we remember such a person, we remember such a place, — it means nothing more than that we remember to have been seeing such a place, or we remember to have been hearing or seeing such a person. There is no memory but of ourselves, because there is no memory but where there is consciousness. If consciousness then is the condition of memory, and memory the condition of time, it follows that the first succession is given us in ourselves, in consciousness, in the proper objects and phenomena of con- sciousness, in our thoughts, in our ideas. But if the first succession given us, is that of our ideas, as to all succession is necessarily attached the conception of time, it follows again, that the first idea we have of time, is that of the time in which we are ; and so the first succession for us, is the suc- cession of our own ideas, the first duration for us is our own duration ; the succession of outward events, and the dura- tion in which these events are accomplished, is not known to us till afterwards. I do not say, that the succession of out- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 61 ward events is nothing but an induction from the succession of our own ideas ; neither do I say that outward duration is nothing but an induction from our own personal duration : but I say, that we cannot have an idea, either of external 'viij succession, or of duration, till after we have had the conscious- ness and the memory of some internal phenomena, and con- sequently of our own duration. Thus, then, summarily, the first duration given us, is our own ; because the first succes- sion which is given, is the succession of our own ideas. A profound and penetrating analysis might carry us farther still. There is a crowd of ideas, of phenomena, under the eye of consciousness. To inquire what is the first succession given us, is to inquire what are the first ideas, the first pheno- mena, which fall under consciousness, and form the first suc- cession. Now^ it is evident, in respect to our sensations, that they are not phenomena of consciousness except upon this condition : that we pay attention to them. Thousands and thousands of impressions may affect my sensibility, but if I do not give them my attention, I have no consciousness of them. It is the same with respect to many of my thoughts, which, if the attention is directed elsewhere, do not come to my consciousness, but vanish in reveries. The essential con- dition of consciousness is attention ; the internal phenomenon most intimately allied to consciousness is then attention ; and a series of acts of attention is, necessarily, the first succession which is given us. Now what is attention ? It is not a re- action of the organs against the impression received. It is nothing less than the will itself; for nobody is attentive without willing to be so ; and attention at last resolves itself into the wiU. Thus, the first act of attentior^jsa voluntary act, the first event of which we have a consciousness, is a" vohtion, and the will is the foundation of consciousness. The first succession, then, is that of our voluntary acts ; the ele- ment of succession is volition. Now succession measures tune, as body measures space ; from whence it follows, that the first succession being that of voluntary acts, the will is the primitive measure of time ; and as a measure, it has this ex- ep ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. cellence that it is equal to itself ; for every thing differs in the consciousness, sensations and thoughts, while acts of atten- tion, being eminently simple, are essentially similar. Such is the theory of the primitive and equal measure of time which we owe to M. de Biran ; and you may see it ex- pressed with perfect originahty of analysis and of style, in the Lectures of M. Royer-Collard* M. de Biran continually repeatedj^ that the^lement of duration Jsjhe^will ; and in or- der to pass from our own duration to outward duration, from the succession of our own acts, to the succession of events, from the primitive and equal measure of time for us, to the ulterior and more or less uniform measure of time without us, M. de Biran had recourse to a two-fold phenomenon of the will, which has reference at once to the external and to the internal world. According to de Biran, the type of the senti- ment of the will is the sentiment of effort. I make an effort to raise my arm, and I raise it. I make an effort to walk, and I walk. The effort is a relation with two terms ; the one is internal, namely, the will, the act of the will, — the /other is external, namely, the movement of the arm, or the step that I take, which has its cause and its measure in the , internal movement of the will. Now a moment is nothing [else in itself but a most simple act of the will. It is at first j altogether internal ; then it passes outward, in the external / movement produced by the nisus or effort, a movement which I reflects that of the will, and becomes the measure of all the \ subsequent external movements, as the a\tU itself is the prim- ;itive and undecomposable measure of the first movement ! which it produces. Without taking upon myself either the honor or the re- sponsibility of all parts of this theory, I has^n to notice that of Locke. The merit of Locke consists in having proved that the idea of time, of duration, of eternity, is suggested to us by the idea of some succession of events ; and that this succession is taken, not from the external world, but from the See Appendix, Note K. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 63 world of consciojusness. See B. IL ch. XIV. XV. XVI. For example, ch. XIV. § 4 : " men derive their ideas of dura- tion from their reflection on the trains of the ideas they ob- serve to succeed one another in their own understandings." And, § 6 : ^^e idea of succession is not from motion." Also, § 12 : " the constant and regular succession of ideas is the measure and standard of all other successions." The analysis of Locke undoubtedly does not go far enough ; it does not determine in what particular succession of ideas, the first suc- cession, the first duration, is given to us. And when it is said that Locke, in making the idea of duration to come from reflec- tion, makes it to come from the sentiment of the operations of the mind, yet as according to Locke, the operations of the mind are not all active and voluntary, his theory is very far from being the same with that which I have just now stated. But it must be acknowledged that the one has opened the road for the other ; and that it was doing much to have drawn the idea of time from the interior, from the phenomena of reflec- tion. This is the merit of Locke's theory. The vice of it however, is more considerable ; but still it is closely allied to the merit. Locke saw that the idea of time is given in succes- sion, and that the first succession for us, is, necessarily, the succession of our own ideas. Thus far Locke deserves only praise, for he gives the succession of our ideas merely as the condition of the acquisition of the idea of time ; but the condi- tion of a thing is easily taken for the thing itself, and Locke, after having taken the idea of body, the mere condition [chro- nological antecedent, and occasion] of the idea of space, for the idea of space itself, here also takes the condition of the idea of time, for the idea itself. He confounds successi on with time. He not only says that the succession of our ideas, is the condition of the conception of time ; but he says that time is nothing else than the succession of our ideas. B. II. ch. XIV. § 4 : " That we have our notion of succession and duration from this original, namely, from reflection on the train of ideas which we find to appear one after another in our minds, seems plain to me in that we have no perception of 64 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. duration, but by considering the train of ideas that take their turns in our understandings. When that succession of ideas ceases, our perception of duration ceases with it ; which every one clearly experiments in himself, while he sleeps soundly, whether an hour or a day, a month, or a year ; of which duration of things, whilst he sleeps or thinks not, he has no perception at all, but it is quite lost to him : and the moment wherein he leaves off to think, till the moment he begins to think again, seems to him to have no distance. And so, I doubt not, it would be to a waking man, if it were possible for him to keep only one idea in his mind, without variation and the succession of others." In this whole passage there is: 1. A confusion of two ideas very distinct, duration and succession. 2. An obvious paralogism ; for duration is explained by succession, which, in its turn, is explicable only by duration. In truth, where do the elements of any succession follow each other, if not in some duration ? Or how could succession, — • the distance, so to say, between ideas, — take place, unless in the space proper to ideas and to minds, that is, in time ? 3. Moreover, see to what results the theory of Locke leads. If succession is no longer merely the measure of time, but time itself ; if the succession of ideas is no longer the condition of the conception of time, but the conception itself, it follows that time is nothing else than the fact of theie being a suc- cession of our ideas. The succession of our ideas is more or less rapid ; and time then is more or less short, not in appear- ance, but in reality. In absolute sleep, in lethargy, all suc- cession of ideas ceases ; and then we have no duration, and not only have we no duration, but there is no duration for any thing ; for not only our time, but time in itself is nothing but the succession of our ideas. Ideas exist but under the eye of consciousness ; but there is no consciousness in lethar- gy, in total sleep, consequently there was no time. The time-piece vainly moved on, the time-piece was wrong ; and the sun, like the time-piece, should have stopped. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 65 These are the results, very extravagant indeed, and yet the necessary results of confounding the idea of succession with that of time ; and the confusion itself is necessary in the general system of Locke, which deduces all our ideas from sensation and reflection. Sensation had according to him given space ; reflection gives time : but reflection, that is, consciousness with memory, pertains only to the succession of our ideas, of our voluntary acts ; a succession finite and con- tingent, and not time, necessary and unlimited, in which this succession takes place. Experience, whether external or in- ternal, gives us only the measure of time, and not time itself. Now Locke, by his assumed theory, was forbidden any source of knowledge but sensation and reflection. It was necessary of course to make time explicable by the one or the other. He saw very clearly that it was not explicable by sensation, and it could not be by reflection, except upon condition of re- ducing it to the measure of time, that is to say, to succession. Locke has thus, it is true, destroyed time ; but he has saved his system. It is at the same price he will save it again in respect to the idea of the infinite. Time and space have for their characteristics, that they are ilUmitable and infinite. Without doubt the idea of the infi- nite is applicable to something else besides time and. space; but since we have hitherto treated only of time and space, we wall now refer the idea of the infinite merely to time and space, as Locke has set the example. Space and time are infinite. Now the idea of the infinite may be detached from the ideas of time and space, and con- sidered in itself, provided we always keep in mind the subject from which it is abstracted. The idea of the infinite un- questionably exists in the human understanding, since there is undeniably in it the idea of time, and the idea of space, which are infinite. The infinite is distinct from the finite, and consequently from the multiplication of the finite by itself, that is, from the indefinite. Zeroes of the infinite added as many times as you please to themselves, will never make up the infinite. You can no more deduce the infinite fi-om 7 66 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. the finite, than you could deduce space from body, or time from succession. In respect to the origin of the idea of the infinite, recollect that if you had not had the idea of any body, nor of any succession, you would never have had the idea of space, nor of time : but that at the same time, you cannot have the idea of a body or of a succession, without having [necessarily awakened along with it] the idea of space or of time. Now body and succession are the finite ; space and time are the in- finite. Without the finite, there is for you no infinite ; but at the same time, immediately that you have the idea of the finite, you cannot help having the idea of the infinite. Here recollect again the distinction between the order of the acqui- sition of our intellections, and their logical order. In the logical order, the finite supposes the infinite as its necessary ground ; but in the chronological order, the idea of the finite is the necessary condition [occasion] of the acquisition of the idea of the infinite. These facts are evident and undeniable ; but Locke had a system, and this system consisted in admitting no other origin of all our ideas but sensation and reflection. Now the idea of the finite, which resolves itself into that of body and of suc- cession, comes easily from sensation or from reflection ; but the idea of the infinite, which resolves itself neither into the idea of body nor of succession, since time and space are nei- ther the one nor the other of these two, — the idea of the infi- nite, can come neither from sensation nor from reflection. If the idea of the infinite subsist, the system of Locke must then be false. It was necessary then that the idea of the infinite should not subsist ; and Locke has accordingly repulsed and eluded it as much as possible. He begins by declaring that the idea of the infinite is very obscure, while that of the finite is very clear and comes easily into the mind, (B. II. ch. XVII. § 2.) But in the first place, whether obscure, or not obscure, is it in the intelligence ? That is the question, and whether obscure or not obscure, if it is real, it is your duty as a philoso- pher to admit it, whether you can render it clearer or not. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 67 And then as to the obscure, let us understand ourselves. The senses have to do only with body ; consciousness or reflection, with succession. The objects of sense and of consciousness are then body and succession, that is to say, the finite. Thus truly nothing is clearer, for sense or for consciousness, than the finite ; while the infinite is and ought to be very obscure for sense and consciousness, for this very simple and sufficient ground^ that the infinite is the object neither of sense nor of consciousness, but of the reason alone. If, then, you go about to apprehend the infinite by sense and consciousness, it is necessarily obscure and even inaccessible ; but if by reason, nothing is clearer, even to the degree that it is then precisely the finite which becomes obscure to your eyes and escapes you. Thus you may perceive how Empiricism, grounding itself exclusively upon experience, internal or external, is naturally led to the denial of the infinite ; while Idealism, grounding itself exclusively upon the reason, forms a very clear idea of the infinite, but scarcely admits the finite, which is not the appropriate object of the reason. After having sported awhile with the idea of the infinite as obscure, Locke objects again that it is purely negative, that it has nothing positive in it. B. II. ch. XVII. § 13 : " We have no positive idea of infinity." § 16 : " We have no positive idea of an infinite duration." § 18 : " We have no positive idea of infinite space." Here we have the accusation, so often since repeated, against the conceptions of reason that they are not positive. But first, observe that there can no more be an idea of succession without the idea of time, than of time without the previous idea of succession ; and no more idea of body without the idea of space, than of space without the previous idea of body ; that is to say, there can no more be the idea of the finite without the idea of infinite, than of the infinite without the previous idea of the finite. From whence it follows in strictness, that these ideas suppose each other, and if any one pleases to say,, reciprocally limit each other ; and xonsequently, the idea o^ the infinite is no more the negative of that of the finite, than the idea of the finite is the negative 08 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. of that of the infinite. They are both negatives on the same ground, or they are both positives ; for they are two simultane- ous afl^rmations, and every affirmation gives a positive idea. Or does Locke understand by positive, that which falls under experience external or internal, and by negative, that which does not fall under experience ? Then I grant that the idea of body and of succession, that is of the finite, does fall solely under experience, under sensation and consciousness ; and that it alone is positive, while the idea of time and of space, that is, of the infinite, falling only under reason, is purely negative. But with this explanation, we should be driven in strict consistency, to maintain that all rational conceptions, for example those of Geometry and Morals, are also purely nega- tive, and have nothing positive in them. But if by positive be understood every thing which is not abstract, every thing that is real, every thing that falls within the immediate and direct grasp of some one of our faculties, it must be admitted that the idea of the infinite, of time and of space, is as positive as that of the finite, of succession and of body, since it falls under the reason, a faculty altogether as real and as positive as the senses and consciousness, although its proper objects are not those of experience.* At la^t being obhged to explain himself categorically, after many contradictions, (for Locke often speaks elsewhere, and here also, of the infinity of God, B. II. ch. XVII. § 1, and even of the infinity of time and space, ib. § 4, 5,) he ends by resolving the infinite into number (ib. § 9 :) " Number affords iLS the clearest idea of infinity. — But of all other ideas, it is number, as I have said, which I think furnishes us with the clearest and most distinct idea of infinity we are capable of. For even in space and duration, when the mind pursues the idea of infinity, it there makes use of the ideas and repeti- tions of numbers, as of millions of millions of miles, or years, which are so many distinct ideas, kept best by number fi-om running into a confused heap, wherein the mind loses itself" * See Appendix Note L. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 69 But what is number ? It is in the last analysis, such or such a number ; for every number is a determinate number. It is then a finite number whatever it may be. Raise the figure as high as you please, the number, as such, is only a particular number, an element of succession, and consequent- ly a finite element. Number is the parent of succession, not of duration ; number and succession measure time, but are not adequate to it, and do not constitute it. The reduction of the infinite to number is, then, the reduc- tion of time infinite, to its measure indefinite, that is, to the finite ; just as in regard to space, the reduction of space to body is the reduction of the infinite to the finite. Now to reduce the infinite to the finite is to destroy it ; it is to destroy the be- lief of the human race ; but, as before observed, it saves the system of Locke. In fact the infinite can be found neither in sense, nor consciousness, but the finite can be found there wonderfully well. It alone is found. There is, then, (for Locke) nothing else, neither in the mind nor in nature ; and the idea of the infinite is nothing but a vague and obscure idea, altogether negative, which at last, when reduced to its just value, resolves itself into number and succession [as the only part of it actual and real.] ^,^--' Let us now examine the theory of personal identity" in y^ Locke, as we have that of infinity, of time, and of space. jbi/^ Is the idea of personal identity found, or not found in i\i& human understanding ? Every one can answer for himself. Is there any one who doubts his personal identity, who doubts that he is the same he was yesterday, and will be to-morrow ? If no one doubts his personal identity, it remains solely to seek the origin of this idea. I suppose if you did not think and were not conscious of thinking, you would not know that you existed. Reflect whether in the absence of all thought, all consciousness, you could have any idea of your own existence, and consequently of your existence as one and the same ? On the other hand, can you have the consciousness of a single operation of your mind, without instantly having an irresistible conviction of 7* 70 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. your existence ? You cannot In every act of conscious- ness there is the consciousness of some operation, some phe- nomenon, some thought, voUtion, or sensation ; and at the same time the conception of our existence. And when mem- ory, following consciousness, comes into exercise, the pheno- mena which just before were under the eye of consciousness, fall under that of memory, with this implicit conviction, that the same being, the same / myself^ who was the subject of the phenomena of which I was conscious, still exists, and is the same whom my memory recalls to me. And you are carefully to observe that the sole direct objects of memory and of consciousness are phenomena present and past ; but at the same time, consciousness and memory never take cognizance of these phenomena without the reason suggesting to me the irresistible conviction of my personal existence one and iden- tical. Now if you distinguish again the two orders I have repeat- edly mentioned, the logical order and the chronological order of knowledge, it is evident that in the order of reason and nature, it is not the consciousness and memory with their acts, which are the foundation of personal identity ; on the contrary, personal identity, the continued existence of the being, is- the foundation of consciousness and of memory and of their continuity. Take away being, and there are no longer any phenomena ; the phenomena no longer come to consciousness and memory. Thus in the order of nature and of reason, consciousness and memory involve the suppo- sition of personal identity. But it is not so in the chronologi- cal order. In this order, though we cannot be conscious and remember without instantly having a rational conviction of our identical existence ; nevertheless it is necessary in order to have this conviction of our identity, that there should have been some act of consciousness and of memory. Undoubt- edly the act of memory and of consciousness is not consum- mated, until the conception of our personal identity is given us ; but some act of memory and of consciousness must have taken place, in order that the conception of our identity should ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 71 take place in its turn. It is in this sense I say, that an exer- cise of memory, and of consciousness, of some sort, is the ne- cessary chronological condition of the conception of our per- sonal identity. Analysis might bring up, concerning the phenomeBj|^r§t consciousness and of memory, which suggest to us thd^esrof ^^ our personal identity, the same problem that has alreafi^l^eeii ^ * brought up concerning those phenomena of conscWsness ^ which suggest the idea of time : it may examine what, among the numerous phenomena which we are conscious of and remember, are those by occasion of which we first acquire the conviction of our existence. This, in fact, is to inquiie what are the conditions of memory and of consciousness. We have already seen that the condition of memory is con- sciousness. It remains, then, to see what is the condition of consciousness. But we have already seen also, that the con- dition of consciousness is attention, — and the condition of at- tention is the will. It is the will, then, attested by conscious- ness, which suggests to us the conviction of our own exist- ence ; and it is the continuity of the will attested by the memory, which suggests to us the conviction of our personal identity. It is M. de Biran to whom again I refer the honor and the responsibility of this theory. Let us now notice the theory of Locke. It was very clear- ly seen by Locke (B. II. ch. XXVII. § 9) that where there is no consciousness, (and, as has been said, Locke should have added memory) ; — where there is neither consciousness nor memory, there can be for us no idea of our personal identity ; and that the sign, the characteristic, and the measure of person- ality, is consciousness. I cannot attribute too much praise to this part of the theory of Locke. It apprehends and puts in clear light the true sign, the true characteristic, and measure of personality. But the sign is one thing, and the thing sig- nified is another thing ; the measure is one thing, the thing measured is another thing; the eminent and fundamental characteristic of self^ and of personal identity, is one thing, the identity itself is anotlier thing. Here, as in regard to the 72 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. infinite, to time, and to space, Locke has confounded the con- dition of an idea with the idea itself. He has confounded identity with consciousness and memory, which represent it, and which suggest the idea of it. B. IL ch. XXVII. § 9. " Since consciousness always accompanies thinking, and it is that which makes every one to be what he calls self^ and thereby distinguishes himself from all other thinking beings ; in this alone consists personal identity, that is, the sameness of a rational being ; and so far as this consciousness can be ex- tended backwards to any past action or thought, so far reaches the identity of that person ; it is the same self now that it was then, and it is by the same self with this present one that now reflects on it, that that action was done." Ih. § 10. " Con- sciousness makes personal identity ;" and § 16, "Consciousness makes the same person;" §17, "Self depends on conscious- ness ;" § 23, " Consciousness alone makes self" Now the confusion of consciousness and personal identity destroys personal identity, just as the confusion of number and infinity destroys infinity, as the confusion of succession and time destroys time, as the confusion of body and space destroys space. In truth, if personal identity consists wholly in con- sciousness, then when consciousness is impaired or lost, there must be^a diminution or loss of personal identity. Deep sleep, lethargy, which is a species of sleep, re very, intoxication, or passion, which frequently destroys the consciousness, and of course the memory, must not only destroy the sense or feeling of existence, but existence itself. It is not necessary to follow all the consequences of this theory. It is evident that if mem- ory and consciousness not merely measure existence for us, but constitute it, any one who has forgotten that he did an act, did not in reality do it ; any one who has badly measured by memory the time of his existence, has really less existed. A man no longer recollects to have committed a crime ; he cannot be put upon trial for it, for he has ceased to be the same person. The murderer must no longer suffer the pun- ishment of his act, if by a fortunate chance he has lost the re- collection of it. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 73 To resume : no doubt personality has for its distinguishing sign, the will, and the operations of consciousness and memo- ry ; and that if we never had either consciousness or memory of any operation and of any voluntary act, we should never have the idea of our personal identity. But this idea once introduced by [occasion of] consciousness and memory into the intelligence, subsists there independently of the memory of the acts which occasioned it. No doubt that which attests and measures personality and the moral accountability of our actions, is the consciousness of the free-will which produced them ; but when these actions are once performed by us with consciousness and free-will, though the recollection of them may have faded or vanished quite away, yet the responsibility of them, as well as our personahty, remains complete. It is not, then, consciousness and memory which constitute our per- sonal identity. Still more, not only do they not constitute it, but personal identity is not even an object of consciousness and of memory. None of us has a consciousness of his own nature ; otherwise, the depths of existence would be easy to sound, and the mysteries of the soul would be perfectly known. We should perceive the soul as we perceive any phenomena of the consciousness, which we apprehend directly, sensation, voUtion, thinking. But such is not the fact. The personal existence, the self which we are, does not fall under the eyes of consciousness and memory ; and nothing does, but the oper rations by which this self is manifested. These operations are the proper objects of consciousness and memory ; personal identity is a conviction of the reason. But none of these dis- tinctions could find a place in the theory of Locke. The pretension of this theory is to deduce all ideas from sensation and reflection. Now the idea of personal identity could not be made to come from sensation ; it was necessary, therefore, to make it come firom reflection, that is, to make it an object of memory and of consciousness, that is, again, to destroy the idea of personal existence, by confounding it with the phe- nomena which reveal it, and which, too, without it, would be impossible. 74 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. It only remains now to examine the theory of substance. And in the first place, do not be disturbed by the idea of sub- stance, any more than by that of the infinite. Infinity is an attribute of time and space ; so the idea and the word sub- stance is a generahzation from the fact which I have just been discussing. Consciousness, with memory, attests to you an operation, or many successive operations, and at the same time reason suggests the behef of your own personal existence. Now your personal existence, the self which you are, and which reason reveals to you, — what is it, relatively to the operations which consciousness and memory attest to you ? It is the subject of these operations, of which the operations themselves are the characteristics, the signs, the attributes. These operations are perpetually changing and renewing; they are accidents. On the contrary, your personal existence subsists always the same ; amidst the perpetual diversity of your acts, you are to-day the same that you were yesterday, and that you will be to-morrow. Personal identity is the unity of your being, your self^ opposed to the plurality of con- sciousness and memory. Now being, one and identical, op- posed to variable accidents, to transitory phenomena, is sub- stance. Here you have personal substance. And it is the same in relation to external substance, which I do not yet care to call material substance. The touch gives you the idea of resist- ance, of solid, the other senses give you the idea of other qualities, primary or secondary. But what ! Is there nothing but these qualities] While the senses give you solidity, color, figure, softness, hardness, &c., do you believe that these qualities are merely in the air, or do you not believe that they are the qualities of something really existing, and which, be- cause it really is, is solid, hard, soft, of a certain color, figure, (fee. ? You would not have had the idea of this something, if the senses had not first given you the idea of these qualities ; but you cannot have the idea of these qualities without the idea of this something existent. This is the universal belief, ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 75 which implies the distinction between qualities and the subject of qualities, between accidents and substance. Attributes, accidents, phenomena ; — being, substance, sub- ject, — these are the generalizations drawn from the two in- contestible facts of my belief in my own personal existence, and my belief in the existence of an external world. Now every thing which has been said of body and space, of succession and time, of the finite and the infinite, of con- sciousness and personal identity, all this may be said of attri- bute and subject, of qualities and substance, of phenomena and being. When we inquire concerning the origin of the idea of phenomena, of quality, of attribute, if the question be concerning an attribute of an external substance, the idea is given by the senses ; if concerning an attribute of the mind, the idea is given by consciousness. But as to the substance itself, whether material or spiritual, it is not given either by sense or consciousness ; it is a revelation of the reason in the exercise of sense and consciousness ; just as space and time, infinity and personal identity, are revealed to us by the reason in the exercise of the sensibility, the consciousness and the memory. In fine, as body, succession, the finite, variety, logically involve the supposition of space, time, infinity and unity ; so in the order of reason and nature (the logical order) it is evident, that attribute and accident involve the supposition of subject and substance. But it is not less evident that in the order of the acquisition of our ideas, (the chronological order,) the idea of attribute and accident is the necessary con- dition of arriving at that of substance and subject ; just as in this same order, the idea of body, of succession, of number, of variety, is the condition of the idea of space, of time, of infinity, of identity. — It remains to see what place the idea of substance occupies in the system of Locke. " I confess, says he, B. I. ch. IV. § 18, there is one idea which would be of general use for mankind to have, as it is of general talk, as if they had it : and that is the idea of sub- stance, which we neither have nor can have by sensation or reflection." Locke, then, systematically denies the idea of sub- 78 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. stance. Unquestionably many passages might be cited, in which he impUcitly admits it ; but openly he repels it, in one place as " of little use in philosophy," B. IL ch. XIIL § 19 ; — in another, as obscure : " we have no clear idea of substance in generalj^^ B. II. ch. XXIII. § 4. But take away from substance this characteristic of abstraction and generality ; restore it to reality ; and then substance is self, or is body. What then ! can we say that the idea is of little use in philo- sophy ; that is, does the belief of my personal identity, and the belief of an external world, play but an insignificant part in my understanding and in human life ? Unquestionably to the senses, as well as to consciousness, all substance is ob- scure ; for no substance, material or spiritual, is in itself a proper object of sense or of consciousness. But to reason, we say again as before, it is not obscure. The idea of substance is the proper object of reason, which has its own objects, and reveals them to us with as much evidence as consciousness and the senses attest their objects. Locke, however, every where repels the idea of substance, and when he oflicially explains it, he resolves it into a collec- tion of simple ideas of sensation, or of reflection. B. II. ch. XXIII. § 3, 4, 6 : " no other idea of substances than what is framed by a collection of simple ideas." It is by such combinations of simple ideas, and nothing else, that we represent particular sorts of substances to ourselves." § 37. " Recapitulation. All our ideas of the several sorts of sub- stances, are nothing but collections of simple ideas, with a supposition of something to which they belong, and in which they subsist ; though of this supposed something we have no clear distinct idea at all." And he declares that we know nothing of matter but the aggregate of its quahties, and nothing of mind but the aggregate of its operations. Nothing can be more true than this in a certain respect. It is indubi- table that we know nothing of mind but what its operations teach us concerning k, and nothing of matter but what its qualities teach us of it ; just as we have already granted that we know nothing of time save that which succession teaches ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 77 us of it, nor of space, save that which body teaches, nor of the infinite, save that which the finite teaches, nor of self, save that which consciousness teaches. Body is the sole measure of space, succession of time, the finite of the infinite, the opera- tions of consciousness of our identity ; and just so, attributes and quaUties are the sole measures and the only signs of sub- stances, whether material or spiritual. But because we do not know any thing of a thing except what another thing teach- es us concerning it, it does not follow that the former thing is the latter. Because it is only by the aggregate of its qualities that substance manifests itself, it does not follow that substance ?s nothing but an aggregate of those qualities. It is evident that the aggregate of quahties into which Locke resolves sub- stance, is altogether impossible without the supposition of sub- stance. Royer-CoUard has perfectly exposed the various as- pects of this impossibility.* I shall bring fonvard but a single one. Among all conditions w^hich are requisite to the possi- bility of this aggregate, look at one which is clearly unques- tionable : it is that there should be some person, some mind, to make this collection, this combination. Numbers placed under each other do not make addition ; arithmetic does not itself perform the whole, it demands an arithmetician. Now Locke, by denying substance, has destroyed the arithmetician neces- sary in order to make this addition. The human mind no longer exists as an integrating unity, capable of finding the sum of the different quantities of which the collection is to be composed. But pass over this radical difficulty, and suppose that a collection is possible without some person, some mind, to make it. Suppose it made and made of itself. What will it be ? All that a mere collection can be : a class, a genus, an abstraction, that is to say, a word. See, then, to what you ultimately arrive. Without speaking of God, who is, however, the substance of substances, the being of beings ; behold mind, behold matter reduced to words. The scholastic philo- sophy had converted many collections into substances, many * See Appendix, Note M. 8 78 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. general words into entities ; but by a contrary extravagance, Locke has converted substance into collection, and made all things to be words. This I mean is the necessary conse- quence of his system. Admitting none but ideas explicable by sensation or reflection, and being unable to explain the idea of substance either by the one or the other, he was ne- cessarily led to deny it, to resolve it into a combination of the simple ideas of qualities^ which are easily attained by sensa- tion or reflection, and which his system admits and explains. Hence the systematic identification of substance and qualities, of being and phenomena, that is to say, the destruction of being, and consequently of beings. Nothing exists in itself, neither God, nor the world, neither you, nor myself Every thing resolves itself into phenomena, into abstractions, into words ; and singular enough, it is the very fear of abstractions, and of verbal entities, the ill-understood taste for reality, that carries Locke into an absolute nominalism which ends in ab- solute nihilism, I shall pursue the examination of the second book of the Essay on the Human Understanding, and shall take up the idea of cause, and the idea of good and evil. CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING CHAPTER FOURTH. CONTENTS OF CHAPTER FOURTH. General remarks on the foregoing results. — Continuation of the ex- amination of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Under- standing. Of the idea of Cause. — Origin in sensation. Refutation. — Origin in reflection and the sentiment of the Will. Distinction between the idea of Cause, and the Principle of Causality. — That the principle of causahty is inexplicable by the sentiment of will. — Of the true formation of the principle of Causality. CHAPTER IV. The first fault of Locke in respect to the ideas of space, of time, of the infinite, of personal identity, and of substance, is a fault of method. Instead of investigating and ascertain- ing, at the outset, by impartial observation, the characteristics which these ideas actually display in the human understand- ing, Locke begins with the exceedingly obscure and difficult question concerning the origin of those ideas. Then he re- solves this question in respect to those ideas, by his general system concerning the origin of ideas, which consists in ad- mitting no idea that is not formed by sensation, or by reflec- tion. Now the ideas of space, of time, of the infinite, of per- sonal identity, and of substance, with the characteristics by which they are undeniably marked, are inexplicable by sen- sation and reflection, and by consequence, incompatible with the system of Locke. There remained, then, but one re- source : to mutilate those ideas with their attributes, so as to reduce them to the measure of other ideas which really do come from sensation or reflection ; for example, the ideas of body, of succession, of number, of the direct phenomena of consciousness and memory, of the attributes of outward ob- jects and of our own attributes. But we believe we have shown that these latter ideas, while they are indeed the condition, [the necessary occasion,] of the acquisition of the former ideas, are nevertheless not the same as the former ; — they are the chronological antecedent, but not the logical reason of them, they precede, but do not engender nor explain them. Thus facts distorted and confused, save the system of Locke ; re-established and distinguished with clearness, they overthrow it. These observations are equally and specially applicable to the theory of one of the most important ideas in the human 8* 82 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. understanding, the idea which figures most in human hfe, and in the books of philosophers ; I mean the idea of Cause. It would have been wise in Locke to have begun by recognizing and describing this idea exactly as it is, and as it is manifest- ed by our actions and speech. But far from this, Locke begins by investigating the origin of the idea of cause, and without hesitation refers it to sensation ; this will be seen by the fol- lowing passage : B. 11. ch. XX VL § 1. — Of cause and effect. Whence their ideas got. " In the notice that our senses take of the constant vicissitude of things, we cannot but observe, that several particular, both qualities and substances, begin to ex- ist ; and that they receive this theii existence from the due application and operation of some other being. From this observation we get our ideas of cause and effect. That which produces any simple or complex ideas, we denote by the gene- ral name, cause; and that which is produced, effect. Thus finding that in that substance which we call wax, fluidity, which is a simple idea that was not in it before, is constantly produced by the application of a certain degree of heat ; we call the simple idea of heat, in relation to fluidity in wax, the cause of it, and fluidity, the effect. So also, finding that the substance wood, which is a certain collection of simple ideas so called, by the application of fire is turned into another sub- stance called ashes, that is, another complex idea, consisting of a collection of simple ideas quite different from that com- plex idea which we call wood ; we consider fire, in relation to ashes, as the cause, and ashes as effect." § 2 : " Having thus, from what our senses are able to discover in the opera- tions of bodies on one another, got the notion of cause and effect ." This is positive. The idea of cause has its origin in sensa- tion. Such clearly is the theory of Locke ; it remains to ex- amine it. And first of all, since the question is whether sen- sation gives us the idea of cause, we must guard against taking for granted the thing in question. We must abstract the sensation from every foreign element and interrogate that ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 83 alone, iii order to discern what it can give relative to the idea of cause. I suppose myself then limited exclusively to sensation. This done, I take the example of Locke, that of a piece of wax which melts and passes into a Uquid state by contact with fire. Now what is there in this for the senses, to which alone I am confined ? There is first two phenomena, the wax and the fire, in contact with each other. Of this the senses inform me ; they inform, moreover, of a modification in the wax which was not there before. A moment before, they showed me the wax in one state ; now they show me it in a diflferent state ; and this different state they show me at the same time that they show, or immediately after they have shown me the presence of another phenomenon, namely, the fire : or in other words, the senses show me the succession of one phenomenon to another. Do the senses show me any thing more ? I do not see that they do, and Locke does not pretend that they do ; for according to him, the senses give us the idea of cause in the observation of the constant vicissi- tude of things. Now the vicissitude of things is clearly the succession of phenomena to each other. Let this succession re-appear sometimes, or frequently, or even constantly ; you will have a constant succession ; but whether constant and perpetual, or limited to a very few cases, the nature of the suc- cession is clearly not altered by the number. Succession is never any thing but succession. Thus the constant vicissi- tude of things at the bottom resolves itself into their vicissi- tude, which is nothing but their succession. I agree with Locke that the senses give me this succession, and Locke does not pretend that they give me any thing more. The only question between us then, is to ascertain whether the succession, rare or constant, of two phenomena, explains, ex- hausts the idea of cause. If it does, then the senses give us the idea of cause ; otherwise not. This is the true and the only question. I ask, then, whether if a phenomenon succeeds another, and succeeds it constantly, the latter is tlie cause ? Is it all the 84 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. idea you form of cause ? When you say, when you think, that the fire is the cause of the fluidity of the wax, I put it to you, whether you merely understand that the phenomenon of fluidity succeeds the phenomenon of the contact of fire ? I put it to you w^hether you do not believe, whether the whole human race do not believe, that there is in the fire an incom- prehensible something, an unknown something, which it is not our object here to determine, but to which you refer the production of the phenomenon of fluidity in the wax. I put it to you, whether the conception of a phenomenon appearing after another phenomenon, is not one thing, and the conception of a certain property in a phenomenon which produces the modification testified by the senses in the phenomenon that follows, another thing. I will take an example often employed and which expresses perfectly well the difference between succession, and the rela- tion of cause and effect. I will suppose that I wish at this moment to hear a melody, a succession of musical sounds, and scarcely is my volition complete, when that succession of sounds is heard from a neighbouring apartment and strikes my ear. There is nothing in this but a relation of succession. But suppose that I will to produce those sounds, and that I do produce.them myself ; do I in this case predicate nothing, be- tween my volition and the sounds, but the relation of succes- sion, which I predicated in the former case between my voli- tion and the accidental sounds ? Do I not in this case, be- sides the evident relation of succession, put another relation still, and one altogether different ? Is it not evident that in the last case, I believe not only that the first phenomenon, the will, preceded the second, the sounds ; but moreover, that the first phenomenon produced the second, — in short, that my will is the cause, and the sounds the effect ? This is undeniable ; it is undeniable, that in certain cases, we perceive between two phenomena only the relation of succession, and that in certain other cases, we predicate of them the relation of cause to the effect ; and that these two relations are not identical. The conviction of every one, and the universal belief of the ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 85 human race, leave no doubt on this subject. Our acts are not only phenomena which appear in a sequence to the ope- ration of volition ; they are judged by us, and recognized by others, as the direct effects of our vohtions. From hence, moral imputation, and judicial imputation, and three quarters of human Ufe and conduct. If there is nothing but a rela- tion of succession, between the action of the murderer and the death of his victim, then the universal belief and the whole structure of civil society, is nothing. For civil life is founded upon the hypothesis, universally admitted, that man is a cause ; as the science of nature is also founded upon the hypothesis that external bodies are causes, that is, have proper- ties which can and do produce effects. From the fact, then, that the senses give us the succession of phenomena, their suc- cession more or less constant, it does not follow that they ex- plain that connection of phenomena, far more intimate and profound, which we call the relation of cause and effect ; and consequently they do not explain the origin of the idea of cause. As to the rest, I refer you to Hume, who has perfectly distinguished vicissitude, that is succession, from causation, and completely demonstrated that the latter cannot come from sensation.* Enough has been shown to ruin the theory of Locke concerning the origin of the idea of cause from sensa- tion. But this is not all. Not only is there in the human mind the idea of cause ; not only do we believe ourselves to be the causes of our own acts, and that certain bodies are often the cause of the movement of other bodies ; but we judge in a general manner that no phenomenon can begin to exist, whether in space or in time, without haviifg a cause. There is here something more than an idea, there is a principle ; and the principle is as incontrovertible as the idea. Imagine a movement, any change whatever, and the moment you con- ceive of this change, this movement, you cannot help suppo- sing that it was made in virtue of some cause. It is not our * See Appendix, Note N. 86 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. object to inquire what this cause is, what its nature, or how it produced such a change ; the only question is whether the human mind can conceive of a change, a movement, without conceiving that it is produced by virtue of a cause. Here is the foundation of human curiosity, which seeks for a cause for every phenomenon, and of the judicial action of society, which intervenes as soon as any phenomenon appears in which so- ciety is concerned. An assassination, a murder, a theft, any phenomenon which falls within the scope of the Law, being given, an author of it is instantly presumed, a thief, a mur- derer, or an assassin, is presumed, and inquisition is made ; nothing of which would be done, if it was not a decided im- possibility for the human mind not to conceive of a cause wherever there is a phenomenon which begins to exist. Ob- serve, I do not say there is no effect without a cause, for evi- dently this is a frivolous proposition, of which one term in- volves the other, and expresses the same idea in a different manner. The word effect being relative to the word cause, to say that the effect supposes the cause is to say nothing but that the effect is an effect. But we do not make an identical or frivolous proposition, when we say that every phenomenon which begins to exist necessarily has a cause. The two terms of this proposition : commencing phenomenon, and cause, do not reciprocally contain each other, they are not identical ; and yet the human mind decides and puts a necessary con- nection between them. This is what we call the principle of causality. This principle is real, certain, undeniable. What now are its attributes ? First, then, it is universal. Is there a human being, a savage, a* child, an idiot even, provided he is not en- tirely one, who, in the case of a phenomenon beginning to ex- ist, does not instantly suppose a cause of it ? True, indeed, if no phenomenon is given, if we have not the idea of some change, we do not suppose, we cannot suppose a cause; for where neither term is known, what relation can be appre- hended ? But it is a fact that in this case a single term being given, the supposition of the other, and of their relation is in- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 87 volvedj and that universally. There is not a single case in which we do not thus judge. Still more : not only do we thus decide in all cases, natural- ly and in the instinctive exercise of our understanding ; but to decide otherwise is impossible ; a phenomenon being given, endeavor to suppose there is no cause of it. You cannot. The principle, then, is not only universal ; it is also necessary. From whence I conclude it is not derived from the senses. For even if it should be granted that the senses might give the universal, it is evident that they cannot give the necessary. For the senses give that which appears, or even that which is, such as it is or appears, phenomena with their incidental characteristics ; but it is repugnant to suppose that they can give that which ought to be, the reason of 3/ phenomenon, still less its necessary reason. It is so far from being true, that the senses and the external world give us the principle of causality, that were it not for the intervention of this principle, the external world from which Locke derives it, would have for us no existence. In fact, suppose that a phenomenon could begin to appear in time or in space without your being necessarily led to suppose a cause. When a phenomenon of sensation appeared under the eye of consciousness, not conceiving or supposing a cause for this phenomenon, you, would not seek for any thing to which to refer it ; you would rest in the phenomenon itself, that is, in a simple phenomenon of consciousness, that is, again, in a modification of yourselves ; you would not go out of yourselves. You would never attain the external world. For what is it that is necessary in order for you to attain the external world and suspect its existence? It is necessary that, a sensation being given, you should be forced to ask yourselves, what is the cause of this new phenomenon, and also that under the two-fold impossibility of referring it to your- selves and of not referring it to some cause, you are forced to refer to a cause other than yourselves, to a foreign cause, to an external cause. The idea of an external cause of our sensa- tions, is, then, the fundamental idea of a without, of outward 88 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. objects, of bodies, and of the world. I do not say that the world, bodies, external objects, are nothing more than a cause of certain sensations in us ; but I say that at first they are given us as causes of our sensations, under this condition, and by this title. Afterwards, or, if you please, at the same time, we add to this property of objects other properties still. But it is upon this, that all the others which we subsequently learn, are founded. Take away the principle of causahty, the sen- sation remains under the eye of consciousness, and reveals to us only its relation to the self, the me, which experiences it, without revealing to us that which produced it, the not-self the not-me, external objects, the world. It is commonly said, and philosophers even join with the vulgar in saying, that the senses discover >the world to us. This is right, if it is meant merely to say, that without the senses, without sensation, with- out the previous phenomenon, the principle of causality would lack the basis [the condition, the occasion] for attaining exter- nal causes, so that we should never conceive the world. But we aie completely deceived, if we understand that it is the senses themselves, directly and by their own force, Avithout the intervention of the reason, or any foreign principle, which make us acquainted with the external world. To know in general,' to know whatever be the object, is beyond the reach of the senses. It is the reason, and the reason alone, which knows, and which knows the world ; and it does not know the world at first but in the character of a cause. It is for us, primarily, nothing but the cause of the sensitive phenomena which we cannot refer to ourselves ; and we should not search for this cause, and consequently should not find it, if our rea- son were not provided with the principle of causahty, if we could suppose that a phenomenon might begin to appear on the theatre of consciousness, of time or of space, without having a cause. The principle of causality, then, I am not afraid to say, is the father of the external world, instead of its being possible to deduce it from the world and make it come fi-om sensation. When we speak of external objects and of the world, without previously admitting the principle of causality, ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 89 either we know not what we affirm, or we are guilty of a pa- ralogism. The result of this whole discussion is : that if the question be about the idea of cause, we cannot find it in the succession of outward and sensible phenomena ; that succession is the condition, [the necessary occasion] of the conception of cause, its chronological antecedent, but not its principle and its logi- cal reason : If the question be, not merely about the idea of cause, but concerning the principle of causality, this principle still more escapes from every attempt to explain it by succes- sion and sensation. — In the first case, in regard to the idea of cause, Locke confounds the antecedent of an idea with the idea itself ; and in the second case, in regard to the principle of causahty, he derives from the phenomena of the outward world precisely the principle without which there would be for us no outward, no world. He takes for granted the very thing in question. He no longer confounds the antecedent with the consequent, but the consequent with the antecedent, the consequence with its principle. For the principle of cau- sality is the necessary foundation of even the slightest know- ledge of the outward world, of the feeblest suspicion of its ex- istence. To explain the principle of causality by the specta- cle of the world, which can be given only by the principle of causality, is, as we have said, to explain the principle by the consequence. Now the idea of cause and the principle of causality, are undeniable facts in the human mind ; conse- quently the system of Locke, which obliges him to receive, in their stead, merely the idea of succession, of constant succes- sion, does not account for facts, nor explain the human mind. But is there nothing more in Locke on the great question of cause ? Has Locke never assigned to the idea of cause another origin than sensation 7 You are not to expect firom our philosopher perfect self-consistency ? I have already told you, and I shall have frequent occasion to repeat it, nothing is less consistent than Locke. Contradictions occur not only from book to book, in his Essay ; but from chapter to chap- ter, and almost from paragraph to paragraph. I have already 9 90 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. cited the positive passage, B. IL ch. XXVL in which Locke derives the idea of cause from sensation. Well now, let iis turn over a few pages, and we shall find him forgetting both his fundamental assertion, and the particular examples, all physical, produced to justify it ; and concluding, to the gieat astonishment of the attentive reader, that the idea of cause no longer comes fiom sensation solely, but from sensation, or, from reflection, ch. XXYI. § 2, " In which and all other cases, we may observe that the notion of cause and effect has its rise from sensation or reflection ; and that this relation, how comprehensive soever, terminates at last in them." This or is now nothing less than a new theory. Hitherto Locke had not said a word about reflection. It is an evident contradiction with the passage I have before cited. But is this contradiction thrown in here at hazard, and after- ward abandoned and lost ? In regard to the twenty-sixth chapter, the answer is, yes ; in regard to the entire work, no. Read another chapter of this same second Book, chapter XXI., On Power. At the bottom, a chapter on power is a chapter on cause. For what is power, but the power to pro- duce something, that is, a cause ?* To treat of power, then, is to treat of cause. Now what is the origin of the idea of power, according to Locke, in the chapter expressly devoted to this inquiry ? It is, as in chapter twenty-sixth, at once sen- sation and reflection. B. II. ch. XXI. Of Power. § 1. This idea how got. " The mind being every day informed, by the senses, of the alteration of those simple ideas it observes in things without, and taking notice how one comes to an end, and ceases to be, and another begins to exist which was not before ; reflecting also on what passes within itself, and observing a constant change of its ideas, sometimes by the impression of outward objects on the senses, and sometimes by the determination of its own choice ; and concluding, from what it has so constant- * The famous Essay of Hume on cause is entitled, Of the Idea of Power. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 91 ly observed to have been, that the Uke changes will for the future be made in the same things by like agents, and by like ways ; considers in one thing the possibility of having any of its simple ideas changed, and in another the possibility of ma- king that change ; and so comes by that idea which we call power." Of these two origins, I have demonstrated that the first, namely sensation, is insufficient to account for the idea of cause, that is to say, of power. It remains, then, to examine the second origin. But this second origin, does it precede, or follow the first ? We derive, according to Locke, the idea of cause, both from sensation, and from reflection. But from which of these do we derive it first ? It is one of the eminent merits of Locke, as I have before noted, that he has shown in the question concerning time, that the first succession which reveals to us the idea of time, is not the succession of external events, but the succession of our own thoughts. Here Locke equally says that it is from the internal and not from the ex- ternal, in reflection and not in sensation, that the idea of power is first given. It is a manifest contradiction, I grant, with his official chapter on cause ; but it is to the honor of Locke to have seen and established, even in contradiction to himself, tliat it is in reflection, in the consciousness of our own opera- tions, the first and clear idea of cause is given. I wish to cite this passage entire ; for it evinces a true talent for ob- servation, and a rare psychological sagacity. B. 11. ch. XXI. § 4. The clearest idea of active power had from spirit. " If we will consider it attentively, bodies by our senses, do not afford us so clear and distinct an idea of active power, as we have from reflection on the opera- tions of our own minds. For all power relating to action, and there being but two sorts of action whereof we have any idea, namely, thinking and motion ; let us consider whence we have the clearest ideas of the powers which produce these actions. 1. Of thinking, body affords us no idea at all, it is only from reflection that we have that. 2. Neither have we from body any idea of the beginning of motion. A body at m ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. jest affords us no idea of any active power to move ; and when it is set in motion itself, that motion is rather a passion, than an action in it. For when the ball obeys the stroke of a billiard stick, it is not any action of the ball, but bare passion ; also when by impulse it sets another ball in motion that lay in its way, it only communicates the motion it had received from another, and loses in itself so much as the other received ; which gives us but a very obscure idea of an active power moving in body, whilst we observe it only to transfer, but not to produce any motion. For it is but a very obscure idea of power which reaches not the production of the action, but the continuation of the passion. For so is motion, in a body im- pelled by another : the continuation of the alteration made in it from rest to motion, being little more an action, than the continuation of the alteration of its figure by the same blow, is an action. The idea of the beginning of motion, we have only from reflection on what passes in ourselves, where we find by experience, that barely by wiUing it, barely by a thought of the mind, we can move the parts of our bodies, which were before at rest. So that it seems to me, we have from the observation of the operation of bodies by our senses, but a very imperfect, obscure idea of active power, since they afford us- not any idea of power in themselves to begin any ac- tion, either motion or thought." Locke seems to have felt indeed that he contradicted him- self ; so he adds : " But if, from the impulse, bodies are observ- ed to make one upon another, any one thinks he has a clear idea of power, it serves as well to my purpose, sensation being one of those ways whereby the mind comes by its ideas : only I thought it worth while to consider here, by the way, wheth- er the mind doth not receive its idea of active power clearer from reflection on its own operations, than it doth from any external sensation." Now this power of action, of which we have from reflec- tion that distinct idea which sensation alone could not give us. what is it ? It is that of the will. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 93 B. n. ch. XXL § 5. " This at least, I think evident, that we find in ourselves a power to begin or forbear, continue or end several actions of our minds, and motions of our bodies, barely by a thought or preference of the mind ordering, or b^ it were, commanding the doing or not doing such or such a par- ticular action. This power which the mind has thus to order the consideration of any idea, or the forbearing to consider it ; or to prefer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa in any particular instance, is that which we call the will. The actual exercise of that power, by directing any particular action, or its forbearance, is that which we call wil- ling, or volition. The forbearance of that action, consequent to such order or command of the mind, is called voluntary ; and whatsoever action is performed without such a thought of the mind, is called involiintary?^ We have here, then, the will considered as an active power, as a productive energy, and consequently as a cause. This is the germe of the beautiful theory of M. de Biran, concern- ing the origin of the idea of cause. According to de Biran, as according to Locke, the idea of cause is not given us in the observation of external phenomena, which, regarded solely by the senses, do not manifest to us any causative energy, and appear only as successive ; but it is given from within, in re- flection, in the consciousness of our operations, and of the power which produces them, namely, the will. I make an effort to move my arm ; and I move it. When we analyze attentively this phenomenon of effort, which M. de Biran con- siders as the type of the phenomena of the will, we have the following elements : 1. the consciousness of a voluntary act ; 2. the consciousness of a motion produced ; 3. a relation, a reference of the motion to the voluntary act. And what is this relation ? Evidently it is not a simple relation of succes- sion. Repeat in yourselves the phenomena of effort, and you will find that you all with perfect conviction attribute the pro- duction of the motion of which you are conscious, to a previ- ous voluntary operation of which you are also conscious. For you, the will is not merely a pure act, without efficiency ] it is 9* 94 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. a productive energy, in such sort, that in it is given the idea of a cause. Still more. This motion, of which you are conscious, which you all refer as an effect, to the previous operation of the will, as the producing operation, the cause, — do you, I ask, refer this motion to any other will than your own ? Do you, or could you, consider this will as the will of another, as the will of your neighbour, of Alexander, or Caesar, or of any superior or foreign power ? Or, for you, is it not your own ? Do you not always impute every voluntary act to yourselves ? Is it not, in a word, from the consciousness of your will, as your own, that you derive the idea of your personahty, the idea of yourselves. The distinguishing merit of M. de Biran is in having established that the will is the constituent char- acteristic of personality. He has gone farther, — too far per- haps. As Locke confounded consciousness and memory with personality and identity of self, M. de Biran has gone even so far as to confound the will with personality itself It is cer- tainly the eminent characteristic of it ; and from hence it follows, that the idea of cause, which unquestionably is given in the consciousness of the producing will, is given by it in the consciousness of our own personahty, and that we our- selves are the first cause of which we have any knowledge. In short, this cause, which is ourselves, is implied in every fact of consciousness. The necessary condition of every phenomenon perceived by the consciousness, is that we pay attention to it. If we do not bestow our attention, the phe- nomenon may perhaps still exist, but the consciousness not connecting itself with it, and not taking knowledge of it, it is for us a non-existence. Attention then is the condition of every apperception of consciousness. Now attention, as I have more than once shown, is the will. The condition, then, of every phenomenon of consciousness, and of course of the first phenomenon, as of all others, is the will ; and as the will is a causative power, it follows that in the first fact of con- sciousness, and in order that this fact may take place, there must necessarily be the apperception of our personal causality ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 95 in the will ; from whence it follows again that the idea of cause is the primary idea, that the apperception of ourselves is the first of all apperceptions, and the condition of all the others. Such is the theory which M. de Biran has raised upon that of Locke.* I adopt it. I believe that it perfectly accounts for the origin of the idea of cause. But it remains to inquire whether the idea of cause springing from this origin and from the sentiment of voluntary and personal activity, suffices to explain the idea which all men have of external causes, and to explain the principle of causality. For Locke, who treats of the idea of cause, but never of the principle of causality, the problem did not even exist. M. de Biran, who scarcely proposes it, resolves it by far too rapidly, and arrives at once to a result which sound psychology and sound logic cannot ac- cept. According to M. de Biran, after we have derived the idea of cause from the sentiment of our own personal activity, in the phenomena of effort, of which we are conscious, we transfer this idea outwardly, we project it into the external world, by virtue of an operation which, with Royer-CoUard, he has call- ed natural induction.^ Let us understand. If by this, M. de Biran means merely that before knowing external causes of any kind, we first derive the idea of cause from ourselves, I grant it. But I deny that the knowledge which we have of external causes is a transferral, a projection, an induction of ours. In fact this induction could not take place but under conditions which are in manifest contradiction with facts and with reason. I request here all your attention. According to Locke and to M. de Biran, it is reflection, con- sciousness, which gives us the first idea of cause. But what idea of cause does it give us ? I answer, and wish it to be specially noticed, that it gives us, not the idea of cause in the abstract, in general, but the idea of a self^ a we, which wills, and which, by willing, produces, and thereby is a cause. The idea of cause which consciousness gives us, is, then, an idea * See Appendix Note 0. t See Appendix, Note P. 96 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. altogether particular, individual and determinate, since it is to us altogether personal. Every thing which we know of cause by consciousness, is concentrated in personality. It is this per- sonahty, and in this personahty the will, and the will alone, which is the power, the cause revealed in consciousness. This being laid down, let us next see what are the conditions of in- duction. Induction is the supposition that in certain circum- stances, a phenomenon, a law, having been given us, the same phenomenon, the same law, will take place in analogous cases. Induction then implies: 1. the supposition of analo- gous cases, that is, of cases more or less different ; 2. the sup- position of a phenomenon which is to continue to take place the same in both cases. Induction is the process of the mind which having hitherto observed a phenomenon only in certain cases, transfers this phenomenon ; this phenomenon, observe, and not another, that is the same phenomenon, to different cases, cases necessarily different, since they are only analogous and similar, and cannot be absolutely identical. The charac- ter of induction then is precisely in the contrast of the identity of the phenomenon or law, and of the diversity of the circum- stances from which it is first derived and then transferred. If, then, the knowledge of external causes is only an induction from our own personal cause, it is in strictness our causality, the voluntary and free cause which ourselves constitute, that should be transferred by induction into the external world ; that is to say, whenever any motion or change begins to appear in time or in space, there we must suppose, not a cause in general, for bear in mind that we are not possessed of the gene- ral idea of cause, we have only the idea of our own personal causahty. We can only suppose what we already have, other- wise it would no longer be the proper and legitimate process of induction. We shall be led to suppose, then, not the abstract and general idea of cause, but the particular and determinate idea of a particular and determinate cause, to wit, ourselves. From whence it follows that it is our own causality we should be obliged to suppose wherever a phenomenon begins to ap- pear : that is to say, all causes subsequently conceived by us, ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 97 are and can be nothing but our own personality, the sole and only cause of all the effects, accidents, or events, which begin to appear. And bear in mind, that the behef in the external world and in external causes, is universal and necessary. All men have it ; all men cannot but have it. As soon as any phenomenon begins to appear, all men believe, think, judge, that there are external causes present, and they cannot but so judge. If, then, induction explains our whole idea of external causes, this induction must be universal and necessary. It must be, that is, an universal and necessary fact, that we be- lieve ourselves to be the cause of all the events, movements and changes which take place, or can take place. Thus in strictness, the induction, the transfer of our own casuality without ourselves, is nothing but the substitution of human hberty for destiny, and perhaps strictly the creation of the world by humanity. If we do not carry it this length, we misconceive the true nature and extent of induction ; and I urge this consequence upon the system of M. de Biran as its legitimate and necessary consequence. My excellent friend would undoubtedly resist this conse- quence as forced and exaggerated ; but there is one which he would be forced to accept, and which he does almost accept. If external causes aje nothing but an induction from our own caudal power, and if nevertheless we are unwilling to allow that they are our very selves, it must at least be conceded that they are of the same kind as ourselves ; if they are not our own, they are as our own ; personal, conscious, voluntary, in- tentional, free, living, and living the same life with us, intel- lectual and moral. In fact, without pretending that this is our whole conception of external causes, M. de Biran main- tains that such is the conception which we form of them at first. And he gives in proof of it that children, and savages, who are but grown children, conceive of all external causes after the model of their own causal power ; that hence the child is angry at the stone which hurt him, as if it had the intention of hurting him ; and the savage personifies and deifies the causes of external phenomena. 98 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. To this I reply : we are not to forget that the belief in the external world and in external causes, is universal and neces- sary ; and that the fact which explains it ought itself to be universal and necessary. Hence it follows, that if our belief in the outward world and in external causes resolves itself into the assimilation of these causes to ourselves, this assunilation ought likewise to be universal and necessary. Now at this point I have recourse to psychology ; I recur to it to determine whether all intellectual and moral beings conceive of external causes as animated and conscious. I look to psychology, and require it to prove that this opinion of children and of savages, is not only a frequent fact, but an universal fact ; that there is not a child nor a savage, who does not at first form this conception. And it must prove also that this is not only universal, but necessary. Now the character of a neces- sary fact is, that it continues without ceasing ; the necessity of an idea, of a law, imphes the supremacy of that idea, that law, throughout the whole extent of duration, as long as the human mind subsists. Now, even if I should grant that all children and all savages believe at first that external causes are hving, free, and personal, this would not be a necessary fact ; for it is not an opinion which continues, which subsists always. We do not now believe it. It is to our credit that we do not. That which [by the theory in question] should be a necessary truth, reproduced from age to age without ex- ception or alteration, is for us simply an extravagance which exists for a short period, and then passes away never to return. From the fact that this supposed induction has languished for a single day, from this alone, we are forced to conclude that it is not an universal and necessary law of the human mind, and of course it does not explain the universal and necessary behef in the existence of the world and of external causes. We all have, we cannot but have, a perfect conviction that the world exists, that there are external causes. These causes we believe to be neither personal, nor intentional and volun- tary. This is the belief of the human race. It is the province of the philosopher to explain it, without destroying or impair- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 99 ing it. Now if this belief is universal and necessary, the judgment which includes it and which gives it, ought to have a principle which is itself universal and necessary ; and this principle is nothing else than the principle of causality, a principle now-a-days expressed in Logic under this form: every phenomenon, every change, which begins to appear, has a cause. This principle is universal and necessary, and because it is so, it imparts to our belief in the existence of the world and of external causes, the character of universality and necessity, by which it is marked. Take away this principle, and leave the mere consciousness of our personal causality, and never should Ave have the least idea of external causes and of the world. In fact, take away the principle of causal- ity, and whenever a phenomenon appeared upon the theatre of consciousness, of which we were not the cause, there would no longer be a ground for our demanding a cause for the phe- nomenon. We should not seek for a cause. For observe, that even in order to the induction we have been speaking of, even in order for us to fall into the absurdity of assigning to the sensation as its cause, either ourselves, or something like ourselves, it is necessary to feel the need of assigning causes for every phenomenon ; and in order to make this induction universal and necessary, this feeling of need must be univer- sal and necessary ; in short, we must have the principle of causality. Thus, without the principle of causaHty, every phenomenon is for us without cause, [and without the notion of cause,] so that we cannot even attribute it to an extrava- gant cause. But on the contrary, assume the principle of causality [as potentially existing in the mind], and as soon as a phenomenon of sensation begins to appear on the theatre of consciousness, at the same instant, the principle of causality [actually unfolded and put in exercise by the occasion of the phenomenon], marks it with this character : that it cannot but have a cause. Now, as consciousness attests that this cause is not ourselves, and yet it remains not less certain that it must have a cause, it follows that there is a cause other than ourselves, and which is neither personal nor voluntary, 100 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. and yet is a cause, that is to say, a cause simply efficient. Now this is precisely the idea which all men form of external causes. They consider them as capable of producing the mo- tions which they refer to them, but not as intentional and per- sonal causes. The universal and necessary principle of causa- hty, is the only principle which can give us such causes ; it is, then, the true and legitimate process of the human mind in the acquisition of the idea of the world and of external causes. Having now demonstrated that our belief in external causes is not an induction from the consciousness of our own personal cause, but a legitimate application of the principle of causahty, it remains to learn how we pass from the consciousness of our own particular causality to the conception of the general prin- ciple of causality. I admit, 1 am decidedly of opinion, that the consciousness of our own proper causality precedes any conception of the principle of causality, and of course precedes any application of this principle, any knowledge of external causality. In my judgment, the process by which, in the depths of the mind, the passage is made from the primary fact of consciousness to the ulterior fact of the conception of the principle, is this. I wish to move my arm, and I move it. We have seen that this fact when analysed, gives three elements : 1. conscious- ness of a volition which is my own, which is personal ; 2. a motion produced ; 3. and finally, a reference of this motion to my will, a relation which, as we have seen, is a relation of production, of causation ; a relation, too, which I no more call in question, than I do either of the two other terms ; which is not given me without those two terms, and without which the terms are not given ; so that the three terms are given in one single and even indivisible fact. Now what is the character of this fact? It is characterized by being particular, individual, determinate, and for this very simple reason, that the fact is altogether personal. This producing will is my own, and of course it is a will particular and determinate. Again, it is char- acteristic of every thing particular and determinate, to be sus- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 101 ceptible of the degrees of more or less. I myself, a voluntary cause, have at such a moment more or less of energy, which makes the motion produced by me reflect it more or less, with more or less force. A little while ago, the causative power dis- played, had such a degree of force, the motion produced had a corresponding degree ; now again, the causative power has less energy, and the motion produced is more feeble ; but does this last motion pertain less to me than the former ? Is there be- tween the cause, myself, and the effect, motion, any the less a relation in the one case than in the other ? Not at all ; the two terms may vary, and do vary perpetually, but the relation does not vary. Still farther : not only the individuality, the determinateness of the fact, if you will permit the expression, may vary, that is, the two particular terms may not only vary, but they may be altogether others, they may even not exist at all. It is supposable that I may not exist, that I am not a cause ; that I have not produced a motion, The two terms, in so far as they are determinate, are susceptible of the attri- butes of more or less, and are purely accidental ; but the rela- tion between these two terms determinate, variable, and con- tingent, is itself neither variable nor contingent. It is the universal and necessary part of the fact. Now the moment the consciousness seizes these two terms, the reason seizes their relation, and by an abstraction which needs not the support of a great number of similar facts, it disengages the invariable and necessary element of the fact, from its variable and con- tingent elements. Make the attempt to call this relation in question. You cannot ; no human intelligence can succeed in the attempt. Whence it follows, that this truth is an univer- sal and necessary truth. Reason, then, is subjected to this truth. It is under an impossibility of not supposing a cause, whenever the senses or the consciousness reveal any motion, any phenomenon. Now this impossibility, to which reason is subjected, of not supposing a cause for every phenomenon re- ealed in sense and consciousness, is what we call the principle f causality ; not, indeed, in its actual logical formula, but in its internal primitive energy. The impossibility for us of not 10 102 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. conceiving a cause, in every case in which we observe the ap- pearance of a phenomenon, external or internal, beginning to exist, is what we call the principle of causality [subjectively]. If it be asked, how the universal and the necessary are found in the relative and the contingent, I reply that along with the WiU and the Senses, there is also the faculty of the Reason, and that it is developed sunultaneously with the former. What has just been said of the principle of causality, may be said of all the other principles. It is a fact which should not be forgotten, though it very often is, that our judgments are all at first particular and determinate, and that under this form of a particular and determinate judgment, all universal and necessary truths, all universal and necessary principles, make their first appearance. Thus the senses attest to me the exist- ence of a body, and at the instant I judge that this body is in space, not in space in general, not in pure space, but in a certain space ; it is a certain body which my senses attest, and it is in a certain space that reason locates it. Then when we reflect upon the relation between this particular body and this par- ticular space, we find that the relation itself is not particular, but universal and necessary; and when we attempt to conceive of a body without any space whatever, we find that we cannot. So also' it is in regard to time. When our consciousness or our senses give us any succession of events or of thoughts, we in- stantly judge that this succession passes in a determinate time. Every thing in time and succession, as they are in the primitive facts of sensation or of consciousness, is determinate. The ques- tion is of such or such a particular succession, an hour, a day, a year, &c. But that which is not determinate and special, is the relation between this succession and this time. We may vary the two terms ; we may vary the succession, and the time which embraces the succession ; but the relation of succession to time does not vary.* Again, it is in the same way that the prin- ciple of substance is given us. When a phenomenon takes place on the theatre of my consciousness, it is a particular and * See Appendi;c, Note Q. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 103 determinate phenomenon ; and accordingly I judge, that under this particular phenomenon, is a being which is the subject of it; not a being in the abstract and general, but actual and de- terminate, to wit, myself. All our primitive judgments are personal and determinate, and yet under the depths of these personal and determinate judgments, there are already rela- tions, truths, principles, which are not personal and determi- nate, although they do determine and individuahze themselves in the determination and individuality of their terms. Such is the first form of the truths of Geometry and Arithmetic. Take, for example, two objects, and two more objects. Here all is determinate ; the quantities to be added are concrete, not discrete.* You judge that these two, and these two objects, make four objects. Now, what is to be noted in this judgment? Here again, as before, every thing is contingent and variable, except the relation. You can vary the objects, you can put pebbles in the place of these books, or hats in place of the pebbles, and the relation will remain unchanged and inva- riable. Still farther: Avhy do you judge that these two de- terminate objects added to these two other determinate ob- jects make four determinate objects ? Reflect. It is in virtue of this truth, namely, that two and two make four. Now, this truth of relation is altogether independent of the na- ture of the two concrete terms, whatever they may be. It is an abstract truth, involved and hidden in the concrete, which leads you to pronounce concerning the concrete, that two con- crete objects added to two concrete objects, make four concrete objects. The abstract is given in the concrete, the invariable and the necessary in the variable and contingent, the reason in sensation and consciousness. The senses attest the existence of concrete quantities and of bodies ; conciousness, the inter- nal sense, attests the presence of a succession of thoughts and of all the phenomena which pertain to personal identity. But at the same time, reason intervenes and pronounces that the relations of the quantities in question are abstract, universal, * See Appendix, Note R. 104 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. and necessary. Reason pronounces that the relation of body to space is necessary ; that the relation between succession and time is a necessary relation ; that the relation between the phenomenal plurality formed by the thoughts in conscious- ness, and that substance, one and identical, which is at once the self J is a necessary relation. Thus in the birth-place of intelligence, the action of the senses and of consciousness is blended with that of reason. The senses and consciousness give the phenomena external and internal, the variable, the contingent ; reason gives us the universal and necessary truths blended with the accidental and contingent truths which re- sult directly from the apperception of the internal or external phenomena ; and these universal and necessary truths con- stitute universal and necessary principles. — Now it is with the principle of causaUty as with other principles. Never would the human mind have conceived it in its universahty and its necessity, if first there had not been given us a particular fact of causation. This primitive particular fact is that of our own proper and personal causality, manifested to the consciousness in an effort, in a voluntary act. But this does not sufiice of itself wholly to explain the knowledge of external causes, be- cause then we should have to regard external causes as only an induction from our own causality, that is to say, we should have to resolve the faith of the human race into an absurdity, and that a transient absurdity, which experience exposes, and which is now-a-days abandoned. This explanation, then, is inadmissible. It is necessary, then, to conceive that in the contingent and particular fact — I will to move my arm, and I move it — there is a relation of the motion as an effect to the voUtion as a cause, which relation, independent of the nature of the two terms, is seized immediately by the reason as an universal and necessary truth. From hence the principle of causahty ; and then with this principle, and only then, can we attain to external causes ; because the principle is broader than the limits of consciousness, and with it we can judge universally and necessarily that every phenomenon, of what- ever kind, has a cause. Thus armed, so to say, let a new ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 105 phenomenon present itself, and we refer it universally and ne- cessaril}^ to a cause ; and that cause not being ourselves, our consciousness bearing witness, we do not any the less necessari- ly and universally judge that a cause exists, we only judge that it is other than ourselves, that it is foreign, external ; and here, to go one step farther, is the idea of exteriority^ and the basis of our conviction of the existence of external causes and of the world ; a conviction universal and necessary, be- cause the principle of the judgment which gives us it, is it- self universal and necessary. At the same time that we conceive of external causes, for- eign to ourselves, other than ourselves, not intentional, not voluntary, but pure causes, such as the rigorous apphcation of the principle of causahty affords, — it is unquestionably true, that the child, the savage, the human race in its infancy, sometimes, or even frequently, adds to this idea of exteriority and of cause purely efficient, the idea of a will, of a personali- ty analogous to our own. But obviously, because this second fact sometimes accompanies the first, it does not follow that we are to confound it with the first. In order to apprehend the first as a universal and necessary fact, this other fact need not be held universal and necessary. This I have demonstra- ted. To do so, results in errors and temporary superstitions at the very encounter with the permanent and inviolable truth engendered by the principle of causality. But yet the fact of this confusion is real ; the errors which it involves, though local and temporary, are undeniable. And the explanation of them is very simple. The principle of causality, though univereal and necessary, is given us at first in the contingent fact of the consciousness of our own causahty. When, then, the principle is brought into exercise, and with its own proper characteristics, it at the same time retains, so to say, in its first applications, the marks of its origin, and the belief in the ex- ternal world, may, for a while, be accompanied with some as- similation, more or less vague, of external causes to ourselves. Add here, as in all cases, that it is the truth which serves as the basis of the error ; for this arbitrary and superstitious per- 10* 106 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. sonification of external causes takes upon supposition the ex- istence of external causes, that is to say, an application of the principle of causality. Induction, then, misleads the principle of causality : but so far is induction from constituting the prin- ciple, that it presupposes the principle. Thus it is that sound psychology, determined never to abandon the conceptions of the human mind, such as they are actually found in the mind, gradually ascends to their true origin : while the systematic psychology of Locke, bury- ing itself at the outset in the question of the origin of our ideas and principles, before having marked with precision the un- doubted characters with which they are actually marked; and not admitting any other origin than sensation or reflec- tion, believes that it has found the origin of the idea of cause in sensation, in the simple spectacle of the external world. But soon forced to abandon this origin, it has recourse to another, namely, the origin in reflection. But this origin, which can indeed give us the idea of a voluntary and person- al cause, can give us nothing but that idea, and not the prin- ciple of causality ; and of course it cannot explain the origin of external purely eflftcient causes. If, liowever, we determine to rest in this narrow and insufficient origin, to what conse- quences' are we driven ? We are obliged to confound two things : the necessary and universal result — that we conceive of causes external to ourselves, with another fact purely acci- dental and transitory — that it happened to us to conceive of these causes as personal ; and thus we are, indeed, enabled to explain the knowledge of external causes by a simple in- duction from our own proper causality, and of course to ex- plain the principle of causality by reflection or consciousness, that is, by one of the two assumed origins of all knowledge. But as has been already shown, the conception of external causes as personal and endowed with consciousness, is nothing but an error found in the infancy of the human reason, and not a law of the reason, and by no means affords an expla- nation of the legitimate belief, the universal and necessary belief of the human race. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 107 In concluding I should perhaps ask pardon for the length of this discussion ; but I owed it, imperfect as it still is, both to the importance of the subject, and to the memory of the great metaphysician whose very sagacity and profoundness led him astray in the path of Locke. Gifted with extraor- dinary psychological insight, M. de Biran penetrated into the intimacy of the fact of consciousness by whij first idea of cause is given, that he scarcely diseng? self from that fact and that idea, and neglected too principle of causality ; thus confounding, as Locke hcfccl done, the antecedent of a principle with the principle itself And when he attempted to explain the principle of causality, he explained it by a natural induction which transfers to the external world consciousness, the will, and all the peculiar at- tributes of his model ; confounding in this way a particular, transient, and erroneous application of the principle of causah- ty, with the principle in itself, the true, universal and neces- sary principle, — that is to say, in fine, confounding by a singular error, not only the antecedent with the consequent, but also the consequent with the antecedent. The theory of M. de Biran is the developement of the theory of Locke. It reproduces that theory with more extent and profoundness, and exhausts at once both its merits and its defects.* * See Appendix, Note S. CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING CHAPTER FIFTH CONTENTS OF CHAPTER FIFTH. Examination of the second Book of the Essay on the Human Un- derstanding continued. Of the idea of Good and Evil. Refutation. Conclusions of the second Book. Of the formation and of the mechan- ism of ideas in the understanding. Of simple and complex ideas. — Of the activity and passivity of the mind in the acquisition of ideaa — The most general attributes of ideas. — Of the Association of ideas. — Ex- amination of the third Book of the Essay on the Understanding, con- cerning words. Credit due to Locke. — Examination of the following questions: 1. Do words derive their first origin from other words signi- ficant of sensible ideas ? 2. Is the signification of words purely arbitra- ry ? 3. Are general ideas nothing but words? Of Nominalism and Realism. 4. Are words the sole cause of error, and is all science only a well-constructed language ? — Examination of the third Book conclu- ded. - i CHAPTER V. It is an undeniable fact, that when we have done right or wrong, when we have obeyed the law of justice, or have broken it, we judge that we merit either reward or punishment. It is moreover a fact that we do indeed receive reward or pun- ishment ; 1. in the approbation of conscience or in the bitterness of remorse ; ^. in the esteem or blame of our fellow-men, who, themselves moral beings, judge also of good and bad as we do, and Uke us judge that right and wrong merit reward and punishment, and who do punish and reward according to the nature of our actions, sometimes by the moral sentence of their esteem or blame, sometimes by physical punishments and rewards, which positive laws, the legitimate interpreters of the law of nature, hold ready for actions ; 3. and finally, if we raise our thoughts beyond this world, if we conceive of God as we ought, not only as the author of the physical world, but as the Father of the moral world, as the very substance of good and of the moral law, we cannot but conceive that God ought also to hold ready rewards and punishments for those who have fulfilled or broken the law. But suppose that there is neither good nor evil, neither justice nor injustice in itself; suppose there is no law. There can then be no such thing as merit or demerit in having broken or obeyed it ; there is no place for reward or punishment. There is no ground for peace of con- science, nor for the pains of remorse. There is no ground for the approbation or the disapprobation of our fellow-men, for their esteem or their contempt. There is no ground for the punishments inflicted by society in this life, nor in the other, for those appointed by the Supreme Legislator. The idea of reward and punishment rests, then, upon that of merit or de- merit, which rests upon that of Law. Now what course does Locke take ? He deduces the idea of right and wrong, of 112 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. the moral law, and all the rules of duty, from the fear and the hope of rewards and punishments, human or divine ; that is to say, (without dwelling here upon any other consideration,) in the strict language of scientific method, he grounds the prin- ciple upon the consequence ; he confounds, not as before the antecedent with the consequent, but the consequent with the antecedent. And from whence comes this confusion ? From that same source of all the confusion we have so many times signaUzed, the premature inquiry after causes, before a suffi- cient study of effects, the inquiry after the origin of the idea of right and wrong, before carefully collecting the attributes, and all the attributes of this idea. Permit me to dwell a mo- ment upon this important topic. First, then, the most superficial observation, provided it be impartial, easily demonstrates, that in the human mind, in its present actual developement, there is the idea of right and of wrong, altogether distinct the one from the other. It is a fact, that in the presence of certain actions, reason qualifies them as good or bad, just or unjust. And it is not merely in the select circle of the 'enlightened, that reason puts forth this judgment. There is not a man, ignorant or instructed, civiUzed or savage, provided he be a rational and moral being, who does not ex- ercise the same judgment. As the principle of causality errs and rectifies itself in its application without ceasing to exist, so the distinction between right and wrong may be incorrectly applied, may vary in regard to particular objects, and may be- come clearer and more correct in time, without ceasing to be with all men the same thing at the bottom. It is an universal conception of reason, and hence it is found in all languages, those products and faithful images of the mind. — Not only is this distinction universal, but it is a necessary conception. In vain does the reason, after having once received, attempt to deny it, or to call in question its truth. It cannot. One can- not at will regard the same action as just and unjust. These two ideas baffle every attempt to commute them, the one for the other. Their objects may change, but never their nature. — Still farther : reason cannot conceive the distinction be- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 113 tween right and wrong, just and unjust, without instantly conceiving that the one ought to be done, and the other ought not to be done. The conception of right and wrong instantly gives that of Duty, of Law ; and as the one is universal and necessary, the other is equally so. Now a law necessary for the reason in respect to action, is, for a rational but free agent, a simple obligation, but it is an absolute obligation. Duty obhges us, though without forcing us, but at the same time, if we can violate it, we cannot deny it. Accordingly, even when the feebleness of the liberty and the ascendancy of passion, make the action false to the law, yet reason, independent, asserts the violated law as an inviolable law, and imposes it still with supreme authority upon the wayward conduct as its imprescriptible rule. The sentiment of reason and of moral obligation which reason reveals and imposes, is consciousness in its highest degree and office, it is moral consciousness, or Conscience properly so called. Observe distinctly, however, with what it is that obhgation has to do. It refers to right doing. It bears upon no other point, but there it is absolute. It is, then, independent of eve- ry foreign consideration ; it has nothing to do with the facili- ties or difficulties which its fulfilment may encounter, nor with the consequences it may entail, with pleasure or pain, that is, with happiness pr misery, that is again, with any motive of utility whatever. For picture and pain, happiness and mis- ery, are nothing but objects of sensibility ; while moral good, and moral obligation, are conceptions of the reason. Utility is but an accident, which may or may not be ; Duty is a prin- ciple. Now is not right-doing always useful to the agent and to others ? That is another question, to answer which, we no longer appeal to reason, but to experience. And does experi- ence always answer in the affirmative ? Even if it does, and if the useful be always inseparable from the good, yet the good and the useful are none the less distinct in themselves, and it is not on the ground of utility that virtue becomes obli- gatory, and that it obtains universal veneration and admira- 11 114 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. tion. It is adirdred, and that alone proves it is not taken sole- ly as useful. Admiration is a phenomenon which it is impos- sible to explain altogether by utility. If the good were nothing but the useful, the admiration which virtue excites would always be on account of its utili- ty. But such is not the fact. Human nature is wrong per- haps in being so formed ; but its admiration is not always the expression of its interest. The most useful virtuous act can never be so much so as many natural phenomena, which eve- ry where diffuse and maintain life. There is not an act of virtue, how salutary soever it be, which can be compared in this respect with the beneficent influence of the sun. And who ever admires the sun ? Who ever experiences for it the sentiment of moral admiration and respect Avhich the most unproductive act of virtue inspires ? It is because the sun is nothing but useful ; while the virtuous act, Avhether useful or not, is the fulfilment of a law to which the agent, whom we denominate virtuous and whom we admire, is voluntarily con- formed. We may derive advantage from an action without admiring it, as we may admire it without deriving advantage. The foundation of admiiation, then, is not the utility which the admired object procures to others ; still less is it the utility of the action to him who performs it. The virtuous action would otherwise be nothing but a lucky calculation ; we might congratulate the author, but not the least in the world should we be tempted to admire him. Mankind demands of its he- roes some other merit than that of a sagacious merchant ; and far from the utility of the agent and his personal interest being the ground or the measure of admiration, it is a fact that other things being equal, the phenomenon of admiration di- minishes or increases in proportion to the sacrifices which the virtuous action cost. But if you wish for manifest proof that virtue is not founded upon the personal interest of him who practices it, take the example I have given on another occa- sion,* of a generous man whose virtue proves his ruin instead * See Appendix, Note T. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 115 of being an advantage to him. And to prevent all idea of calculation, suppose a man who sacrifices his life for the truth, who dies upon the scaffold, young and fresh in life, for the cause of justice. Here there is no future to be looked at, of course no chance of ulterior advantage ; and of course no cal- culation, no possible self-interest. This man, if virtue is nothing but utility, is a fool, and mankind who admire him are dehrious. This dehrium is nevertheless a fact, an undeniable fact. It demonstrates, then, unanswerably, that in the human mind in its actual state, the idea of right and wrong, of virtue and vice, is one thing, and the idea of utility, of pleasure and pain, of happiness and mis- ery, is another thing. I have now shown the essential and metaphysical difference of these ideas.* It remains to show their relation. It is cer- tain that the idea of virtue in the human mind is distinct from that of happiness ; but I ask, if when you meet a virtu- ous man, a moral agent who, free to obey or not to obey the moral law, obeys it at the sacrifice of his dearest affections,— I ask if this man, this moral agent, besides the admiration which attaches to th6 act, does not inspire you with a senti- ment of good-will which attaches to his person ? Is it not true that you are disposed, if happiness were in your hands, to dispense it to this virtuous man ? Is it not true that he appears to you tvorthy to be happy, and that in respect to him, happi- ness does not appear to you solely as an arbitrary idea, but a right ? At the same time, when the guilty man is rendered wretched, as the effect of his vices, do we not judge that he deserves it ? In a word, do we not judge, in general, that it would be unjust for vice to be happy and virtue miserable 1 This is evidently the common opinion of all men ; and this opinion is not only universal, it is also a necessary conception. In vain does reason endeavor to conceive vice as worthy of happiness ; it cannot succeed in the attempt. It cannot help demanding an intimate harmony between happiness and vir- * &e% A'^p^ftdii', Note U. 116 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. tue. And in this conception, we are not sensitive beings who aspire after happiness, nor sympathetic beings who desire it for our fellow creatures ; but we are rational and moral beings, who, as with a superior authority, pass such a judgment in respect to others, as well as in respect to ourselves. And when facts do not accord with our judgments, we do not, on that account, reverse our judgments. We maintain them invinci- bly, in spite of facts at variance with them ; and such facts we do not hesitate to call disorders. The idea of merit and demerit is for the reason inseparable from that of the moral law fulfilled or violated.* Hence the idea of reward and punishment as universal and necessary as its principle. Wherever vktue and vice receive their reward and punish- ment, there, in our conceptions, is a state of moral order ; and where vice and virtue are without punishment and reward, or where they are equally treated, there, on the other hand, is a state of disorder. Rewards and punishments are different according to the cases, and it is not necessary here to deter- mine and classify them with perfect precision. When vicious actions do not pass beyond a certain sphere, the sphere of the person who commits them, men do not impose upon them any other punishment than their contempt or disesteem. We punish them by opinion. When they exceed that sphere, and affect the rights of others, then they fall under positive laws, and those laws penal. These two sorts of punishment, moral and material, have through all time and everywhere been in- flicted upon vicious agents. Without any doubt it is useful to society to inflict contempt upon the violater of moral order ; without doubt it is useful to society to punish effectually the in- dividual who attacks the foundations of social order. This con- sideration of utility is real ; it is weighty ; but I say that it is not the first, that it is only accessory, and that the immediate basis of all penalty is the idea of the essential merit and demerit of actions, the general idea of order, which imperiously de- mands that the merit and demerit of actions, which is a law See Appendix, Note V. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. tff of reason and of order, should be realized in a society that pretends to be rational and well ordered. On this ground, and on this ground alone, of realizing this law of reason and of order, the two powers of society, opinion and government, appear faithful to their primary law. Then comes up utility, the immediate utility of repressing evil, and the indirect utility of preventing it, by example, that is, by fear. But this con- sideration has need of a basis superior to itself in order to ren- der it legitimate. Suppose in fact that there is nothing good or evil in itself, and consequently neither essential merit or de- merit, and consequently, again, no absolute right of blaming or punishing ; by what right, then, I ask, do you blame or disgrace a man, or make him ascend the scaffold, or put him in irons for Ufe, for the advantage of others, when the action of the man is neither good nor bad in itself, and merits in itself neither blame nor punishment l Suppose that it is not abso- lutely right, just in itself, to blame this man or to punish him, and the legitimacy and propriety of infamy and of glory, and of every species of reward and punishment are at an end. Still farther, I maintain if punishment has no other ground than utihty, then even its utility is destroyed ; for in order that a punishment may be useful, it is requisite: 1. that he upon whom it is inflicted, endowed as he is with the principle of merit and demerit, should regard himself as justly punished, and should accept his punishment with a suitable disposition ; 2. that the spectators, equally endowed with the principle of merit and demerit, should regard the culprit as justly punish- ed according to the measure of his crime, and should apply to themselves by anticipation the same justice in case of crime, and should be kept in harmony with the social order by the view of its legitimate penalties. Hence arises the utility of examples of punishment whether moral or physical. — But take away its foundation in justice, and you destroy the utihty of punishment ; you excite indignation and abhorrence, in- stead of awakening penitence in the victim, or teaching a salutary lesson to the public. You array courage, sympathy, everything noble and elevated in huiHan nature, on the side 11* 118 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. of the victim. You excite all energetic spirits against society and its artificial laws. Thus the utility of punishment is itself grounded in its justice, instead of its justice being ground- ed in its utility. Punishment is the sanction of the law and not its foundation. Moral order has its foundation not in pun- ishment, but punishment has its foundation in moral order. The idea of right and wrong is grounded only on itself, on reason which reveals it. It is the condition of the idea of merit and demerit, which is the condition of the idea of reward and punishment ; and this latter idea is to the two former, but especially to the idea of right and wrong, in the relation of the consequence to the principle.* This relation which embraces all moral order, subsists as inviolable as reason itself from which we receive it, even when we pass beyond the sphere of this life and of human society, to that of religion and of a world where God reigns without participation, where destiny gives place to the pure action of Providence, where fact and right are the same thing. There we cannot conceive of God but as at once the cause and sub- stance of good, as the representative in some sort of the moral law ; that is to say, we cannot conceive of God without refer- ing to him the moral law which by our reason is imposed upon us. Now at the same time that we conceive of God as imposing upon us a just law, we cannot help conceiving that God attaches a punishment to the violation of this law. The idea of merit and demerit, transferred as it were into the other world, is the basis of the conception of punishments and re- wards in the future life. Suppose that God was not conceiv- ed by us as the representative of the moral law, it would ap- pear to us impossible that he could punish or reward us for breaking or obeying the law. It is not in the caprice of a being superior to us in power, that we rest the legitimacy of the retributions of another life. Take away the justice of God, and his power, absolute as it is, would no longer appear to us a sufficient foundation for rewards and punishments. * See Appendix, Note W. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. U9 Take away his justice, and what remains ? A government, but no law ; and instead of the sublime realization of the idea of merit and demerit, the future life is nothing but the threat of a superior force against a feeble being, fated to sustain the part of a sufferer and a victim. — In heaven, then, as upon the earth, in heaven much more than upon the earth, the sanction of law is not the foundation of it ; reward and punishment are deduced from merit and demerit, from right and wrong ; the former do not constitute the latter.* Let us now apply to this subject the distinctions we have before established. We have distinguished the logical order of ideas, from the order of their acquisition. In the first case, one idea is the logical condition of another when it explains the other ; in the second case, one idea is the chronological condition of another, when it arises in the human mind before the other. Now I say in respect to the question before us, that the idea of justice, the idea of the moral law obeyed or broken, is : 1. the logical condition of the idea of merit or de- merit, which without it is incomprehensible and inadmissible ; 2. the antecedent, the chronological condition of the acquisi- tion of the idea of merit and demerit, which certainly never would have arisen in the mind, if previously it had not received the idea of justice and injustice, right and wrong, good and evil. Now, Locke, after having frequently confounded, as we have seen, the logical condition of an idea with its chro- nological condition, confounds at once in regard to this sub- ject, both the logical and chronological condition of an idea with the idea itself, and even with a consequence of that idea ; for the idea of reward and punishment is only a consequence of the idea of merit and demerit, which in its turn is only a consequence of the idea of right and wrong, which is here the supreme principle, beyond which it is impossible to ascend. Thus, instead of laying down first the idea of right and wrong, then that of merit and demerit, and then that of re- ward and punishment ; it is the reward and punishment, that * See Appendix, Note X. 120 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. is to gay, the pleasure and the pain that result from right and wrong, which, according to Locke, is the foundation of moral good and evil, and of the moral rectitude of actions. B. IL ch. XXVIIL § 5 : " Good and evil, as hath been shown, B. IL ch. XX. § 2, and ch. XXL § 42, are nothing but pleasure or pain, or that which occasions, or procures pleasure or pain to us. Moral good and evil, then, is only the conformity or disagreement of our voluntary actions to some law, whereby good or evil is drawn on us by the will and / power of the law-maker ; which good and evil, pleasure or pain, attending our observance or breach of the law, by the decree of the law -maker, is what we call reward and punish- ment." Locke then distinguishes three laws or rules, namely, the divine law, the civil law, and the law of opinion, or reputa- tion. Ibid. § 7 : "By the relation they bear to the first of these, men judge whether their actions are sins or duties ; by the second, whether they be criminal or innocent ; and by the third, whether they be virtues or vices." Ibid. § 8 : '•'• Divine law the measure of sin and duty. First, the divine law, whereby I me^n that law which God has set -to the actions of men, whether promulgated to them by the light of nature or the voice of revelation. That God has given a rule whereby men should govern themselves, I think there is nobody so brutish as to deny. He has a right to do it; we are his creatures : he has goodness and wisdom to direct our actions to that which is best ; and he has power to enforce it by rewards and punishments, of infinite weight and duration in another life ; for nobody can take us out of his hands. This is the only true touchstone of moral recti- tude, and by comparing them to this law, it is that men judge of the most considerable moral good or evil of their actions ; that is, whether as sins or duties, they are like to procure them happiness or misery, from the hands of the Almighty." Here, then, the punishments and rewards of a future fife are declared the sole-touehstone, the sole measure of the recti- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 121 tude of our actions. But suppose that the law which God has givea us were not just in itself, independently of the rewards and punishments attached to it, the act which obeys or violates it would then be neither good nor bad in itself; and the divine will would then be seen in the strange aspect of attaching to a law indifferent in itself, and in its fulfilment or violation, rewards the most alluring, and punishments the most dread- ful. These promises and these threatenings, moreover, being addressed merely to the sensibility, which is the subject of pleasure and pain, and not to the reason or conscience, might excite in us fear or hope, but never the emotion of reverence, nor the sentiment of duty. And it is of no avail to say, as Locke has, that God has the light to do so, to establish namely such a law, though it is in itself indifferent, because we are his creatures; for that is without meaning, unless it be that he is the most powerful and we the weakest, and that would be to appeal to the right of the strongest.* In general this theory tends to make God an arbitray king, to substitute the Divine Will and Power in place of Divine Reason and Wisdom. It is a doctrine concerning God for the senses, and not for the reason, made for slaves and brutes, not for intelligent and free beings. Ihid. § 9 : " Civil lata the measure of crimes and inno- cence. Secondly^ the civil law, the rule set by the common- wealth to the actions of those who belong to it, is another rule to which men refer their actions, to judge whether they be criminal or no. This law nobody overlooks ; the rewards and punishments which enforce it being ready at hand, and suitable to the power that makes it ; which is the force of the commonwealth, engaged to protect the hves, liberties, and pos- sessions of those who Uve accoriling to its laws, and has power to take away life, liberty, or goods, from him who disobeys, which is the punishment of offences committed against this law." Unquestionably society has this right ; this right is even a * See Appendix, Note Y. 122 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. duty for it ; but it is so only upon one condition, the condition namely, that the laws which it passes should be just : for sup- pose that the law established by society be unjust, the violation of this law ceases to be unjust, and then the punishment of an act not unjust which transgresses an unjust law, is itself injustice. Take away, I repeat, the previous fitness and just- ness of the law, and you destroy the fitness and justice of the punishment. Punishment loses all its character of morality, and retains only that of mere physical force, which cannot, as Hobbes very well perceived, be too absolute or too formida- ble ; since it cannot subsist nor make itself regarded, except from the fear it inspires. Ibid. § 10. " Philosophical law the measure of virtue and vice. Thirdly, the law of opinion or reputation. Virtue and vice are names pretended and supposed every where to stand for actions in their own nature right and wrong ; and so far as they really are so applied, they are coincident with the divine law above mentioned. But yet whatever is pre- tended, this is visible, that these names, virtue and vice, in the particular instances of their application, through the several nations and societies of men in the world, are constantly attri- buted only to such actions, as in each country and society are in reputation or discredit. Nor is it to be thought strange that men every where should give the name of virtue to those ac- tions, which among them are judged praiseworthy ; and call that vice J which they account blameable : since otherwise they would condemn themselves, if they should think any thing right, to which they allowed not commendation, and any thing wrong, which they let pass without blame. Thus the measure of what is every where called and esteemed virtue and vice^ is the approbation or dislike, praise or blame, which by a secret and tacit consent establishes itself in the several societies, tribes and clubs of men in the world ; whereby several actions come to find credit or disgrace amongst them according to the judg- ment, maxims, or fashions, of that place. For though men uniting to politic societies, have resigned up to the public the disposing of all their fwce, so that they cannot employ it ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 128 against any fellow citizen, any farther than the law of the country directs ; yet they retain still the power of thinking well or ill, approving or disapproving the actions of those whom they live amongst and converse with ; and by this ap- probation and dislike, they establish amongst themselves what they call virtue and vice." Ihid. §11: " That this is the common measure of virtue and vice, will appear to any one who considers, that though that passes for vice in one country which is counted virtue, or at least not vice in another, yet every where virtue and praise, vice and blame go together." Upon which point Locke refers to all pagan antiquity, in which the incitement to virtue was the appeal to glory. He even cites a passage of St. Paul, which he forces aside from its natural sense, to get at the conclusion, that there is no other measure of virtue than good or bad fame. Read also his twelfth section, in which the " enforcements" of this law are stated to be " commendation and discredit." But you will perceive that the same is true in regard to opinion, the pretended philosophical law, as in regard to pub- lic punishments under the civil law, and in regard to the pun- ishments of another Hfe under the divine law. Suppose that virtue is not virtue in itself, and that it is praise and approba- tion which make it, it is clear that morahty is no longer any thing ; there is no longer a law ; there is nothing but arbitrary customs, local and changing ; there is no longer any thing but fashion and opinion. Now, either opinion is nothing but a lying sound, or it is the echo of the public conscience, and then it is an effect, and not a cause ; its legitimacy and its power reside in the sentiment of right and wrong. But to elevate the effect to the rank of a cause, to establish right and wrong upon opinion, is to destroy right and wrong ; it is to confound and vitiate virtue, by making fear its only sanction ; it is to make courtiers and not virtuous men. Popular applause is one of the sweetest things in the world, but only when it is the reflection of one's own conscience, and not the price of epjBplaisance ; when it is acquired by a series of actions truly 124 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. virtuous, by constancy to one's character, fidelity to one's prin- ciples and to one's friends in the common service of one's couQtry. Glory is the crown, not the foundation of virtue. Duty does not measure itself by reward. Without doubt it is easier to perform it on a conspicuous theatre, and with the applauses of the crowd ; but it is not at all lessened in the shade, it perishes not in ignominy ; there, as every where, it is one and the same, inviolable and obligatory. The conclusion to which we perpetually recur, is that here likewise Locke obviously takes the consequence for the prin- ciple, the effect for the cause. And you will observe that this confusion is a necessity of his system. This system admits no idea that is not derived from reflection or from sensation. Reflection being here out of the question, it is to sensation that Locke has recourse ; and as sensation cannot explain the idea which mankind have of good and evil, the object is to find an idea more or less resembling it, which can come from sensa- tion, and take the place of the former. Now this idea is that of punishment and reward, which resolves itself into that of pleasure and pain, happiness and misery, or in general, into the idea of utility. This confusion, to repeat once more, was necessary to the system of Locke ; and it saves it : but dispel the confusion, re-establish the facts in their real value and true order, and the system of Locke is overthrown. Let us see where we are. Locke has tried his system upon a number of particular ideas, to wit : the idea of space, the idea of time, the idea of the infinite, of personal identity, of substance, of cause, of good and evil ; imposing upon himself the task of explaining all these ideas by sensation and by re- flection. We have followed Locke upon all these points cho- sen by himself ; and upon all these points, an attentive exam- ination has demonstrated that not one of these ideas can be explained by sensation or reflection, except under the condition of entirely misconceiving the real characteristics with which these ideas are now marked in the understanding of all man- kind, and of confounding, through the help of this miscon- ception, these ideas with other ideas which are indeed more ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 125 or less intimately united with them, but which are not the same, which precede them, or which succeed them, but do not constitute them, as the ideas of body, of number, of the phenomena of consciousness and memory, of collection and totality, of reward and punishment, pleasure and pain. Now, without doubt sensation and reflection explain these latter ideas ; but these are not the ideas which it is the pro- blem to explain, and Locke is therefore convicted of being unable to explain all the ideas that are in the human mind. The theories which we have brought forward and dis- cussed, occupy three fourths of the second book of Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding. Locke had then only to gather his generalizations ; he had nothing more to do but to show how, the ideas which we have gone over and all similar ideas being furnished by sensation or by reflec- tion, the complete edifice of the human understanding may be erected on this basis. On our part, the most important portion of our task is accomplished. It was necessary to accompany the exposition of the grounds of Locke's system with a profound and thorough discussion. Now that these grounds are overthrown, we can proceed faster ; it will be enough to give a rapid view of the last part of the second book, stating the principal positions, and elucidating them by a few reflections. All those ideas which are derived immediately from these two sources, sensation and reflection, are by Locke denomi- nated simple ideas. Simple ideas are the elements out of which we compose all other ideas. Compound or complex ideas are those which we form subsequently by the combina- tion of simple and primitive ideas; so that the whole devel- opement and action of the human mind is resolved into the acquisition, immediately from the senses, of a certain number of simple ideas, which Locke beheves he has determined ; — then the formation from these materials of complex ideas by combination and association ; then again, the formation from these complex ideas of ideas still more complex than the for- 12 126 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. mer ; and thus on continually, till we have exhausted all the ideas in the human mind.* There is one error which it is necessary here to expose. It is not true that we begin by simple ideas, and then proceed to complex ideas. On the contrary, we begin with complex ideas, and from them proceed to more simple. The process of the mind in the acquisition of ideas is precisely the inverse of that which Locke assigns. All our first ideas are complex, and for the evident reason that all our faculties, or at least a great number of our faculties, enter into exercise at the same time ; and their simultaneous action gives us at the same time a number of ideas bound and blended together, which form a whole. For example : the idea of the external world which is given so quick and early in the order of acquisition, is a very complex idea, containing a multitude of ideas. There is the idea of the secondary qualities of external objects, the idea of their primary qualities, the idea of the permanent reality of something to which you refer these qualities, that is of body, of matter ; there is also the idea of space containing body, the idea of time in which its different motions and changes are accomplished, &c. And do you believe that you have at first, and by itself, the idea of the primary qualities, and of the secondary qualities ; then the idea of the subject of these qualities, then the idea of time, and then the idea of space ? By no means. It is simultaneously, or almost simul- taneously, that you acquire all these ideas. Moreover you do not have them without knowing that you have them ; you have the conviction of having them. This conviction impHes for you the exercise of consciousness ; and consciousness im- plies a certain degree of attention, that is, of will ; it implies also a belief in your own existence, in the real or substantial /or self J which you are. In a word, you have at once an assemblage of ideas which are given you the one with the other ; and all your primitive ideas are complex. They are complex besides for another reason ; because they are particu- * Book IL chap. II. and chap. XII. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 127 lar and concrete, as I have shown in the preceding lecture. Then comes abstraction, which, employing itself upon those primitive data, complex, concrete, and particular, separates what nature had given you united and simultaneous, and considers by itself each of these parts of the whole. That part which is separated fiom the whole, that idea detached from the body of the total picture of the primitive ideas, be- comes an abstract and simple idea, until an abstraction, more sagacious and more profound, subjects that supposed simple idea to the same process to which the collection of preceding ideas had been subjected, namely, decomposes it, evolves from- it many other ideas which it considers apart, abstracting one from the other ; — until in short, from decomposition to decom- position, abstraction and analysis, arrive at ideas so simple that they are supposed no longer capable of being decomposed. The more simple an idea is, the more general it is ; the more abstract, the greater the extension it has. We begin with the concrete, and we go to the abstract ; we begin with the defi- nite and particular, in order to arrive at the simple and the general. The process of the mind, then, as I have said, is altogether the reverse of that assigned by Locke. I should, however, render this justice to the school of Locke, that it has not permitted so important an eiTor to remain in the analysis of the mind, and that Condillac subsequently restored the true process. This has not been done, however, in regard to another opin- ion of Locke, blended with the former, namely, that the mind is passive in the ac'quisition of simple ideas, and active in that of complex ideas.* Without doubt the mind is more ac- tive, its activity is more awake, in forming general ideas by abstraction (for this is what we must understand by the com- plex ideas of Locke ;) but it is also active in the acquisition of particular ideas (the simple ideas of Locke,) for in this there is still consciousness, and consciousness supposes attention, will, activity. The mind is always active when it thinks. *B. II.ch. L §25; ch. XII. § 2. 128 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. It does not always think, as Locke has well remarked* ; but whenever it does think, and it certainly thinks in the ac- quisition of particular ideas, it is active. Locke has too much diminished the activity of the mind ; and the school of Locke, far from extending it, has limited it still more. All our ideas are now obtained, or supposed to be obtained ; their mechanism has been described and explained. It re- mains only to investigate their most general characters. Locke has divided them into clear and distinct ideas, and ideas obscure and confused, t real and chimerical, J complete and in- complete, § true and false. II — In the last chapter, we find the remark since then so often reiterated, that in strictness all our ideas are true, and that error does not respect the idea consid- ered in itself ; for even when you have an idea of a thing which does not exist, as the idea of a centaur, of a chimera, it is not the less true that you have the idea which you have ; it is only that the idea which you certainly have, which unques- tionably is in the human mind, lacks a corresponding object, really existing in nature ; but the idea in itself is not the less true. The error, then, respects not the idea, but the affirma- tion sometimes added to it, namely, that this idea has an object really existing in nature. You are not in an error, because you have the idea of a centaur ; but you are in an error when to this idea of a centaur you join the affirmation, that the ob- ject of such an idea exists. It is not the idea taken by itself, it is the judgment connected with it, which contains the error. The school of Locke has developed and put in clear light this judicious observation. The second book closes with an excellent chapter on the association of ideas.lF Not only are ideas clear or obscure, distinct or confused, real or chimerical, complete or incom- plete, true or false ; they have besides this undeniable peculiari- ty, that by occasion of one we conceive another, that they recal and bring up each other. There are associations natu- * B. II. ch. I. § 18, 19. t B. II. ch. XXIX. t Ibid. ch. XXX. § Ibid. ch. XXXI. II Ibid. ch. XXXII. IT Ibid. ch. XXIII. k ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 129 ral, necessary, and rational ; there are also false, arbitrary, and vicious associations of ideas. Locke has clearly discerned and forcibly signalized the danger of the latter sort. He has shown by a multitude of examples how it frequently happens, that simply because we have seen two things by chance uni- ted, this purely accidental association subsists in the imagina- tion and perverts the understanding. This is the source of a multitude of errors ; not only of false ideas, but of false senti- ments, of arbitrary antipathies and sympathies, which not un- frequently degenerate into insanity. We find here in Locke the wisest counsels for the education of the soul and of the mind, on the art of breaking up in good season the false con- nections of ideas, and of restoring to their place those rational connections which are derived from the nature of ideas and of the human mind. I regret but one thing, it is that Locke did not push this analysis still farther, that he left still so much vagueness upon this important subject. It should not have been enough for him to lay it down that there are associa- tions true, natural, and rational, and associations false, acci- dental, and irrational ; he should have shown in what con- sisted the true connections, determined the most important and the most ordinary of these legitimate connections, and at- tempted to ascend to the laws which govern them. A precise theory of these laws would have been an immense service done to philosophy ; for the laws of association of ideas rest upon the laws of the understanding itself. In fine, when Locke passed to perverted associations, he should have shown what is the root of these associations, and what is the relation of false connections to the true. We see the human mind only in its extravagance, until we ascend to the source, the reason of that extravagance. Thus, for example, Locke incessantly recommends, and very justly, to break up in the minds of children, the ordinary association of spectres with darkness. A more thorough analysis would have investiga- ted the ground of this association of mysterious beings with night, darkness, obscurity. The idea of phantoms or spec- tres is never connected in the mind or in the imagination, 13* 130 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. with the idea of the sun or a brilliant light. Here is certainly an extravagance of the mind, but it is an extravagance which has its ground, and it would be curious and useful to investi- gate it. Here is a false connection of ideas which analysis can completely explain only by referring it to another connec- tion of ideasj natural and legitimate, but perverted in a partic- ular case. — As to the rest, I repeat, this whole chapter shows the ingenious observer, and the true philosopher ; and we shall see hereafter that the association of ideas became, in the hands of Locke's school, a rich subject of experiment and of instructive results, a fruitful topic of favorite study, and in re- spect to which the followers of Locke have rendered unques- tionable service to the human reason. Such is the exact and faithfid analysis of the second book. Locke has made all our ideas to be derived from sensation or from reflection ; he has exhibited their genesis, the play of their developement, the different general attributes by which they may be classed, and that most remarkable quality, which is at once the most useful or the most dangerous. — Ideology, psychology, at least that of Locke, is achieved. It would now remain.to pass to the applications of ideology, to the knowledge of objects and beings by the aid of ideas. This is the subject ojf the fourth book. But Locke, having clearly perceived what is the relation of words to ideas, and that words are a fruitful source of errors for the understand- ing, has previously devoted an entire book, his third, to the discussion of the great question concerning signs and lan- guage. You know that this is again one of the points in which the school of Locke has been the most faithful to their master. It is the favorite subject with his school, and I cordially ac- knowledge that in regard to this question, together with that concerning the association of ideas, it has deserved best of philosophy. I acknowledge with great respect a multitude of sound, ingenious, and even original ideas, scattered through the whole of Locke's third book. Locke has admirably per- ceived the necessary intervention of signs, of words, in the ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Igl formation of abstract and general ideas ; the influence of signs and words in definitions, and consequently in a considerable part of logic. He has noticed and signalized the advantages of a good system of signs, the utility of a well constructed language, the danger of an ill one ; the verbal disputes to which a defective language too frequently reduces philosophy. Upon all these points he has opened the route which his school have entered and pursued. If he has not gone very far, he still has the credit of opening the way ; if he has suffered many profound observations to escape him which have been made by his successors, he has in requital avoided very many systematic errors into which they have fallen. Faithful still, however, to his method of inquiring more after the origin of things than their actual characters, Locke has not failed to in- vestigate, though briefly, the origin of words, of signs, of lan- guage. He has recognized that the materials of language pre-exist in nature, in sounds, and in that of our organs, which is fitted to form them ; but he perfectly comprehended that if there were nothing else but sounds, even articulate sgunds, there would indeed be the materials of signs, but there would yet be no signs. There are signs only on one condition, namely, that the understanding attaches a sense, a particular signification to the sound, in order that the sound should be- come a sign, the sign of an internal conception of the mind. " Parrots, and several other birds," says Locke, B. HL ch. I. § 1 and 2, " will be taught to make articulate sounds distinct enough, which yet by no means are capable of language. Besides articulate sounds, therefore, it was farther necessary that man should be able to use these sounds as signs of in- ternal conceptions ; and to make them stand as marks for the ideas within his own mind." From whence it follows, 1. that language is not the product of sounds, that is to say, of the organs and the senses, but of the intelligence ; 2. that the intelligence is not the product of language, but on the con- trary, language is the product of intelligence ; 3. that the greater part of words having, as Locke well remarked, an ar- bitrary signification, not only are languages the product of the 132 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. intelligence, but they are even in great part the product of the wiU ; Avhile in the system which has prevailed, both in the school of Locke and in a school altogether opposed to his, in- teUigence is made to come from language, in the latter, with- out much inquiring whence language comes, in the former, by making it come from the sensation and the sound, without suspecting that there is a gulf between the sound considered as a sound, and the sound considered as a sign, and that what makes it a sign is the power to comprehend it, that is, the mind, the intelligence. Sounds, and the organs which per- ceive and produce them, are the conditions of language ; but its principle is intelligence. Here at least, we can give Locke the credit of not confounding the condition of a principle with the principle itself. His successors have not been as wise.* I will now proceed to take up several important points of the third book, which appear to me doubtful or false. You will judge. L Locke maintains (B. HL ch. L § 5,) that " words ulti- mately derive their origin from such [other words] as signify sensible things," that is to say, in the last analysis all words have for their roots elementary words, which are the signs of sensible ideas. In the first place, the absolute truth of this proposition may be denied. I will give you two words, and will ask you to reduce them to their primitive words expressive of sensible ideas. Take the word /or myself. This word, at least in all languages with which I am acquainted, is not susceptible of any reduction. It is undecomposable and prim- itive. It expresses no sensible idea ; it represents nothing but the meaning which the intelligence attaches to it ; it is a pure sign, without relation to any sensible sign. The word being is in precisely the same case ; it is primitive and altogether intellectual. I know no language where the word to he is expressed by a corresponding word representing a sensible idea. It is not then true, that all the roots of language are in the last analysis signs of sensible ideas. Farther, — even * See Appendix, Note Z. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 133 if it were true, and absolutely so, which is not the fact, let us see the only conclusion which could be justly drawn from it. Man is led at first by the action of all his faculties out of him- self and towards the external world. The phenomena of the external world first strike his notice; these phenomena of course receive the first names ; the first signs are drawn from sensible objects ; and they are tinged in some sort with their colours. Then when man, subsequently, in falling back upon himself, apprehends more or less distinctly those intellectual phenomena, of which from the first he indeed had glimpses, but mixed and confused; and when he wishes to express these new phenomena of the mind and of thought, analogy leads him to connect the signs he is seeking for, with those he already possesses, for analogy is the law of all language forming or developed. Hence the metaphors into which analysis resolves the greater part of the signs of the most ab- stract moral ideas. But it does not follow at all, that the mind of man has hereby intended to mark the genesis of its ideas. Because the signs of certain ideas are analogous to the signs of certain other ideas, the conclusion does indeed follow that the former were formed after the others, and upon the others ; but not in the least does it follow that the ideas of all these signs are in themselves identical or analogous. It is, how- ever, by these analogies, purely verbal, and which, I repeat it, do not explain all the phenomena of language, that the school of Locke, taking advantage of the relations of words to each other, and of the sensible characteristics of the chief part of their roots, has pretended, that all signs in the last analysis are derived from sensible signs, and what is more, that all ideas are equally derived from sensible ideas. Here is the foundation of the great work of Home Tooke, who, in respect to grammar, has developed with a hardy fidelity the system already clearly indicated in the Essay on the Human Understanding, (B. HI. ch. L § 5,) a system more or less in accordance with the necessary intervention of intelligence in the formation of language which Locke had himself set forth, and with the power of reflection as distinct from sensation in 134 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. the acquisition of knowledge. " It may also lead us a little towards the original of all our notions and knowledge, if we remark how great a dependance our words have on common sensible ideas ; and how those, which are made use of to stand for actions and notions quite removed from sense, have their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are transfer- red to more abstruse significations, and made to stand for things that come not under the congnizance of our senses ; e. g. to imagine, apprehend, comprehend, adhere, conceive, instil, dis- gust, disturbance, tranquilUty, (fee. are all words taken from the operations of sensible things, and appHed to certain modes of thinking. Spirit, in its primary signification, is breath ; angel, a messenger : and I doubt not, but if we could trace them to their sources, we should find, in all languages, the names which stand for things that fall not under the senses, to have had their first rise from sensible ideas. By which we may give some kind of guess, what kind of notions they were, and whence derived, which filled their minds who were the first beginners of languages ; and how nature, even in the naming, of things, unawares suggested to men the ori- ginals and principles of all their knowledge " II. Another proposition of Locke: (B. III. ch. III. § 8,) "that the signification of words is perfectly arbitrary." — I have al- ready acknowledged that the greater part of words are arbi- trary, and come not only from the intelligence, but from the will. I am thoroughly persuaded that the greater part of words are conventional ; but the question is, whether they are all so. The point to be investigated is, if there be absolutely not one root in language which carries of itself its own signifi- cation, which has a natural meaning, which is the foundation of subsequent convention, instead of coming from that conven- tion. This is a great question which Locke has cut off with a single word, and which all his school have regarded as defi- nitively settled; not even agitating it. And certainly even if I should grant, what I cannot grant without qualification, that all words are arbitrary, I should except the laws of the relation of words to each other. Language is not a simple collection of ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 135 isolated words ; it is a system of manifold relations of words to each other. These various relations are all referable to invaria- ble relations, which constitute the foundation of every language, its grammar, the common and identical part of all languages, that is to say, universal grammar, which has its necessary laws derived from the very nature of the human mind. Now it is remarkable, that in the book on words, Locke has never touched upon the relations of words, never upon syntax, nor the true foundation of language. There are a multitude of special reflections and ingenious too, but no theory, no true grammar. It is by the school of Locke, that the isolated remarks of their master have been formed into a gram- matical system true or false, which we shall not take up at present. in. We come now to another proposition of great impor- tance. Locke declares expressly, that what is called general and universal, is the work of the understanding, and that the real essence is nothing else than the nominal essence. B. IIL '^ ch. in. § 11 : '-'■ general and universal belong not to the real existence of things ; but are the inventions and creatures of the understandings made by it for its own use, and concein only signs, whether words or ideas." You see here the very foundation of nominalism. It is important to examine, though briefly, this proposition, which has become in the school of Locke an unquestionable principle, a prejudice placed above all discussion. I perceive a book, and another book, and another book still ; I neglect, by abstraction, their differences of position, of form, of size, of color ; I attend solely to their relations of re- semblance which it is needless to enumerate, and I arrive by well known processes, to the general idea of book ; and that general idea is expressed for me by the word, book. Now what is there under this word ? Neither more nor less than this : 1. the supposition that, besides the diffeiences which distin- guish the objects placed before my eyes, there are also in them resemblances, common qualities, without which no generali- zation would be possible ; 2. the supposition that there is a 136 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. mind capable of recognizing these common qualities ; and 3, the supposition that there are objects really existing, real books, subjects of the common qualities. The word book represents all this : different books existing in nature, quahties common to those different books, and a mind capable of uniting those common quahties and of raising them to their general idea. But independently of these different and real books, of their common qualities, and of the mind which conceives them, does the word book express, does it represent, any thing existing, which is neither such or such a book, but book in itself? No, certainly not. The word book is, then, nothing but a word, a pure word, which has no special type, no real object existing in nature ; it is certain, then, that the general essence of book confounds itself with its nominal essence, that the es- sence of book is nothing but a word, and here I am altogether on the side of Locke and of nominalism. But are there not other general ideas ? Let us examine. I perceive a body, and at the same instant my mind cannot but take for granted that the body is in a certain particular space, which is the place of this particular body. I perceive another body, and my mind cannot but believe that this other particular body is also in a particular space ; and thus I arrive, and I arrive very soon, as you have before seen, without need of passing through a long series of experiments, at the general idea of space. It remains to ascertain if this general idea of space is exactly the same as the general idea of book, that is, if the word space in itself signifies nothing more than the word book. Let us consult the human mind and the truth of in- ternal facts. It is an unquestionable fact, that when you speak of book in general, you do not connect with the idea of book that of a real existence. On the contrary, I ask if, when you speak of space in general, you do not add to this idea a behef in the reality of space ? I ask if it is with space as with book ; if you believe, for instance, that there are, without you, nothing but particular spaces, that there is not an universal space, capable of embracing all possible bodies, a space one and the same with itself, of which different particular spaces are I ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 137 nothing but arbitrary portions and measures ? It is certain, that when you speak of space, you have the conviction that out of yourself there is something which is space ; as also when you speak of time, you have the conviction, that there is out of yourself something which is time, although you know nei- ther the nature of time nor of space. Different times and different spaces, are not the constituent elements of space and time ; time and space are not solely for you the collection of different times and different spaces. But you believe that time and space are in themselves, that it is not two or three spaces, two or three ages, which constitute space and time ; for, every thing derived from experience, whether in respect to space or to time, is finite, and the characteristic of space and of time for you is to be infinite, without beginning and without end ; time resolves itself into eternity, and space into immensity. In a word, an invincible belief in the reality of time and of space, is attached by you to the general idea of time and space. This is what the human mind believes ; this is what consciousness testifies. Here the phenomenon is precisely the reverse of that which I just before signalized ; and while the general idea of a book does not suppose in the mind the conviction of the existence of any thing which is book in itself, here on the contrary, to the general idea of time and of space, is united the invincible conviction of the reality of something which is space and time. Without doubt, the word space is a pure word, as well as that of book ; but the former word carries with it the supposition of something real in itself. Here is the root and ground of realism. Nominalism thinks that general ideas are nothing but words ; realism, that general ideas suppose something real. On both sides there is equal truth, and equal error. Without doubt, there are a great number of general ideas, which are purely collective, which represent nothing else than the com- mon qualities of objects, without implying any existence [any general existence, any essence separate fi*om those common quahties, and the particular objects in which they reside] ; and in this sense nominalism is in the right. But it is certain, 13 138 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. also, that there are g-eneral ideas, which imply the supposition of the real existence of their object: realism rests upon this basis, which is unquestionable. — Now, observe the error of nominalism and of realism. The force of realism lies in gen- eral ideas, which invincibly imply the external existence of their objects ; these are, £is you know, universal and necessary general ideas. It starts from thence ; but into the circle of these superior ideas, it attracts and envelopes ideas which are purely collective and relative, born of abstraction and language. What it had the right to affirm of the former, it affirms also of the latter. It was right on one point; it would extend it to an absolute and exclusive right : that is its error. Nominal- ism, on its part, because it had demonstrated clearly that there are many general ideas which are only collective ideas, rela- tive and of mere words, concluded from this that all general ideas are nothing but general ideas, collective and relative, mere signs. The one converted things into words, the other converted words into things. Both are right in their starting- point, both go astray in their conclusion, through their exces- sive and absolute pretensions. In general, the Sensual school is nominahst, and the Ideal school is realist; and on both sides, as is always the case with the incomplete and exclusive, half right, and half wrong. IV. I conclude with pointing out a proposition of Locke, or rather a tendency of the third book, which it is important to reduce within just limits. Every where Locke attributes to words the greatest part of our errors ; and if you expound the master by his disciples, you will find in all the writers of the school of Locke, that all disputes are disputes about words ; that science is nothing but a language, (which is indeed true, if general ideas are nothing but words,) and of course, a lan- guage well formed, is a science well constructed. I wish to point out the exaggeration of these assertions. No doubt words have a great influence ; no doubt they have a very large share in our errors, and we should endeavor to make language as perfect as possible. Who questions it ? But the question is, whether all error is derived from language, and ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. . 139 whether science is merely a well-formed language ? And I answer, no. The causes of error are very different ; they are both more extended and more profound. Levity, presump- tion, indolence, precipitation, pride, thousands of moral causes, influence our judgments, independently of their external signs. Apart from all these moral causes, the human understanding is only a limited power ; it is capable of truth, it is also capable of error. The vices of language may connect themselves with these moral causes and aggravate them, but do not constitute them. If you look more closely, you will see that the greater part of disputes, which seem at first to be disputes about words, are, at the bottom, disputes about things. Humanity is too seri- ous to be excited, and often to shed its best blood for verbal quar- rels. Wars do not turn on disputes about words; and I say^/^ the same of other conflicts, theological and scientific contro- ' >,. versies, whose depth and importance is altogether misconceived, when they are resolved into pure logomachies. Certainly every science should seek for a well constructed language ; but it were to take the effect for the cause, to suppose that there are well established sciences, because there are well formed languages. The contrary is true. Sciences have well formed languages, when they themselves are well formed. Mathematics, physics, chemistry, are sciences well established, and they have very well constructed languages. It is because in mathematics the ideas have been perfectly determined, that the simplicity, strictness and precision of the ideas have pro- duced, and necessarily do produce, strictness, precision and simplicity of signs. Otherwise it would be implied that pre- cise ideas express themselves in confused language ; and even if it were so for a while, in the infancy of a language, yet soon, the precision, strictness, and fixedness of the ideas would reform the vagueness and obscurity of language. The excel- lence of the chemical and physical sciences comes obviously from well made experiments. Facts having been observed wath precision, and described with fidehty, reasoning could apply itself to these facts with certainty, and deduce fi^om them legitimate consequences and applications. From hence arose, 140 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. and from hence should arise, a good system of signs. Make the contrary supposition ; suppose the experiments badly made, then the more strict the reasoning, founded upon these false data, should be, the more errors it would deduce, and the more length and breadth it would give to the errors. Suppose that the theories resulting from these imperfect and vicious experi- ments should be represented by signs the most simple, the most analogous, the best determined; of what importance would the goodness of the signs be, while under this excellent language was concealed a chimera or an error? Take the science of medicine. It is a complaint that this science has made so httle advancement. What do you think should be done to bring it up from the regions of hj^thesis, and elevate it to the rank of a science 7 Do you beheve that at the outset you could, by a language well constructed, reform physiology and medicine ? Or do you not believe that the true remedy is experiment, and along with experiment the strict employ- ment of reason ? A good system of signs will then come of itself; it could not come before, or it would come to no pur- •^e. It is the same with respect to philosophy. It has been incessantly rnpeated, that the structure of the human mind is entire in that of language, and that philosophy would be com- pleted the day that a philosophical language should be achiev- ed. And starting from this point, some have endeavoured to arrange a certain philosophical language more or less clear, easy and elegant ; and they have beheved that philsophy was completed. But it did not answer ; it was very far from an- swering the purpose. This prejudice has even retarded its progress, by taking off the mind from experiment. Philo- sophical science, like every science of observation and of rea- soning, lives by observations accurately made and deductions rigorously strict. It is there, and not elsewhere, we are to look for all the future progress of philosophy. CRITICAL EXAMINATION or LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING CHAPTER SIXTH. 13* CONTENTS OF CHAPTER SIXTH. Examination of the fourth Book of the Essay on the Human Un- derstanding, on Knowledge.— That knowledge, according to Locke, depends: 1. upon Ideas; 2. upon Ideas, in so far as they are conformed to their objects. — That the conformity or non-conformity of ideas with their objects, as the foundation of truth or falsehood in regard to know- ledge, is not with Locke merely a metaphor, but a real theory, — Exam- ination of this theory of ideas, i. in relation to the external world, to secondary qualities, to primary qualities, to the substratum of these qualities, to space, to time, &c.; 2. in relation to the spiritual world. — Appeal to Revelation. Paralogism of Locke. CHAPTER YI. Having found all the ideas which are in the human under- standing, their origin, their genesis, their mechanism and char- acters ; the signs also by which we express, exhibit and unfold them ; — the next thing is to inquire what man does with these ideas, what knowledge he derives from them, what is the ex- tent of this knowledge, and what its limits. This is the sub- ject of the fourth book of the Essay on the Human Under- standing. It treats of Knowledge, that is, not merely of ideas taken in themselves, but in relation to their objects, in relation to essences. For knowledge in its humblest degree, as well as in its highest flight, reaches to that ; it evidently attains to God, to bodies, and to ourselves. Now here at the outset a previous question comes up. Knowledge extends to beings ; the fact is unquestionable: but how does this take place? Departing from ideas which are within it, how does the under- standing arrive at beings which are without it ? What bridge is there, between the faculty of knowing, which is within us, and the objects of knowledge which are without us ? When we shall have arrived on the other side, we will take counsel what course we ought to follow, and where we can go ; but first it is necessary to know how to make the passage. Before entering upon ontology, we must know how to pass from psychology to ontology, what is the foundation, and the legiti- mate foundation of knowledge. It is this preliminary ques- tion which we shall first impose upon Locke. The fourth book of the Essay on the Human Understand- ing begins by recognizing that all knowledge depends upon ideas : B. IV. Of Knowledge ; ch. I. Of Knowledge in gener- al. § I : " Since the mind, in all its thoughts and reasonings hath no other immediate object but its own ideas, which it 144 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. alone does or can contemplate, it is evident that our knowledge is only conversant about them." Now you have seen that Locke recognizes, and rightly, that ideas in themselves considered are always true. It is always true that we have the idea which we have, which is actual- ly under the eye of consciousness. Be this idea a chimera, a fairy, a centaur, yet, as an idea, it is always what we have it, and in this respect the idea cannot be false, it cannot but be true ; or rather, in strictness, it is neither false nor true. Where, then, can error begin, and where does truth reside ? Both the one and the other evidently reside, and can reside, only in the supposition of the mind that the idea does, or does not refer to an object, to such or such an object really existing in nature. It is in this reference or relation that truth or er- ror lies for the human mind. If this relation can be found out and fastened upon, human knowledge is possible ; if this relation cannot be apprehended, human knowledge is impos- sible. Now supposing that this relation is possible, what is it, and in what does it consist ? On this point it is our task to interrogate Locke with precision and severity ; for here should be the foundation of the theory of the true or false in regard to human knowledge, that is, the foundation of the fourth Book which we have to examine. Throughout the whole of the fourth book, as at the close of the second, Locke expressly declares that the true or false in ideas, about which all knowledge is conversant, consists in the supposition of a relation between these ideas and their object ; and every where also he expressly declares that this relation is andean be nothing but a relation of agreement or disagreement- The idea is conformed to its object, or it is not conformed. If conformed, knowledge is not only possible but it is true, for it rests upon a true idea, an idea conformed to its object j if the idea is not coriformed to its object, the idea is false, and the knowledge derived from it is equally false. This in substance is what we find from one end to the other of the fourth book of the Essay on the Human Understand- ing, concerning knowledge. The same also we find at eve- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 145 ry step in the last six chapters of the second book, where Locke treats of true and false ideas. B. ILch. XXXIL §4: "Whenever the mind refers any of its ideas to any thing extraneous to them, they are then capable to be called true or false. Because the mind in such a reference makes a tacit supposition of their conformity to that thing." B. IV. ch. IV. § 3: "It is evident, the mind knows not things immediately, but only by the intervention of the ideas it has of them. Our knowledge therefore is real^ only so far as there is a conformity between our ideas and the reality of things." These two passages are positive ; they clearly reduce the question of truth or falsehood in respect to knowledge, to that of the conformity or non-conformity of ideas with their objects. But this necessity of the conformity of an idea with its ob- ject in order to its truth, is it in Locke a real theory, or is it merely a mode of speaking, simply a metaphor, more or less happy ? In the first place, if it is a metaphor, I would ask what then is the theory couched under this metaphor, and in what place in Locke we are to find that theory once expressly de- clared. No where can I find any thing but the metaphor it- self. Again, if in the entire absence of any other theory, the two passages which I have just cited do not suffice to prove that the necessity of the conformity of an idea with its object in order to constitute its truth, is not a metaphor, but an ex- press theory, I can adduce here a multitude of other passages which leave no doubt in this respect. Thus when near the end of the second book, Locke treats of ideas as real or chi- merical, as complete or incomplete, he rests upon his theory of the conformity or non-conformity of ideas with their objects. B. 11. ch. XXX. § 1 : " Real ideas are conformable to their archetypes. First, by real ideas, I mean such as have a foundation in nature ; such as have a conformity with the real being and existence of things, or with their archetypes. Fantastical or chimerical^ I call such as have no foundation 146 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. in nature, nor have any conformity to that reality of being to which they are tacitly referred as to their archetypes." Now what is an adequate or inadequate idea ? An ade- quate idea will be that which shall be completely conformed to its archetype ; an inadequate idea, that which shall be con- formed only in part. Ihid. ch. XXXI. § 1 : " Those I call adequate^ which perfectly represent those archetypes which the mind supposes them taken from, which it intends them to stand for, and to which it refers them. Inadequate ideas are such, which are but a partial or incomplete representation of those archetypes to which they are referred." Thus the theory of complete or incomplete ideas rests upon the theory of . real and chimerical ideas, which also rests upon that of true or false ideas, and that consists altogether in the theory of the conformity of the idea to the object. This is a point of so much importance, that to take away all uncertain- ty, I will adduce a passage where Locke lays down the prob- lem by itself, and the precise form in which he lays it down, excludes all ambiguity in the solution which he gives. B. IV. ch. IV. §3: "But what shaU be here the criteri- on? How shall the mind, when it perceives nothing but its own ideas, know that they kgree with things themselves ? This, though it seems not to want difficulty, yet I think there be two sorts of ideas that we may be assured agree with things.'^ § 4. " Simple ideas carry with them all the conformity which is intended, or which our state requires ; for they represent things to us under those appearances which they are fitted to produce in us." And a little further on : " this conformity be- tween our simple ideas and the existence of things, is suffi- cient for real knowledge." It is impossible to explain any thing more distinctly and di- rectly. It is not, then, a mere way of speaking, a metaphor thrown off in passing ; it is altogether a theory, a system. Let us examine it seriously. See, then, by it, truth and error, reahty and chimera, r^olved into the representation or non-representation of the object by ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 147 the idea, into the conformity or non-conformity of the idea to its object. There is knowledge upon this condition, and upon this alone, that the idea represents its object, is conformed to it. But upon what condition does an idea represent its object, and be conformed to it ? Upon this condition, that the idea resemble its object, that the idea have to its object the relation of a copy to its original. Weigh the force of the words : the conformity of an idea to its object can signify nothing else but the resemblance of that idea, taken as a copy, to its object, taken as the original. This is exactly what Locke expresses by the word archetypes, which he uses to designate the objects of ideas. Now if the conformity of the idea to its object is nothing but the resem- blance of the copy to its original, to its archetype, I say that in such a case, the idea is taken solely as an image. The idea must evidently be an image in order positively to resem- ble any thing, in order to be able to represent any thing. See then the representative idea reduced to an image. Now reflect closely, and you will see that every image imphes something material. Can an image of any thing immaterial be con- ceived .^ Every image is necessarily sensible and material, or it is nothing but a metaphor, a supposition which we have put away. Thus in the last analysis, to say that there is know- ledge where the idea is conformed to its object, and that no knowledge is possible but upon this condition, is to pretend that there is no knowledge biit upon the condition that the idea of a thing is the image of that thing, that is to say, its material im- age. All knowledge, then, is involved in the following question : Have we, in respect to beings, the ideas which represent them, which resemble them, which are the images, and the material images of them ; or have we not such images ? If we have, knowledge is possible ; if not, it is impossible. Now in point of fact, human knowledge embraces both the external world, and the soul, and God. If, then, knowledge of these objects is possible and real, it is only upon the condition just laid down, namely, that we have of these beings, ideas which represent them, which resemble them, which are images of them, and once again, material images. Have we, then, or have we not 148 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. idea-images, material images, of God, of the soul, of the exter- nal world ? This is the question. Let us first apply it to the external world. It is there, above all, that the theory of Locke would appear most admissible. Let us see what is the sound- ness and value of it even upon this ground. The idea of the external world is the idea of body. Bodies are known to us only by their qualities. These quahties are primary or secondary. By the secondary qualities of bodies is understood, you know, those which might not exist, and yet the body itself not cease to exist ; for instance, the quahties of which we acquire the idea by the sense of smelling, of hearing, and of taste, by all the senses, in short, except unquestionably that of touch, and perhaps also that of sight. The primary quah- ties of bodies are those which are given to us, as the fundamental attributes of bodies, without which bodies could not for us exist. The eminently primary quality is sohdity, which implies more or less extension, which directly implies form. We have the donviction that every body is solid, extended, has form. We are moreover convinced that bodies have the property of caus- ing in us those particular modifications which are called savor, sound, odour, perhaps also the modification called color. Locke agrees to all this, it is he who chiefly contributed to ex- tend in science the distinction between the primary and secon- dary qualities of bodies. It is not our object to go any farther in this distinction. Let us now see how Locke explains the acquisition of ideas of the primary and of secondary qualities. B. II. ch. VIII. § 11 : How primary qualities pro- duce their ideas. " The next thing to be considered is, how bodies produce ideas in us ; and that is manifestly by impulse, the only way which we can conceive bodies to operate in." § 12. "If, then, external objects be not united to our minds, when they produce ideas therein, and yet we perceive these ori- ginal qualities in such of them as singly fall under our senses, it is evident, that some motion must be thence continued by our nerves or animal spirits, by some parts of our bodies to the brain or the seat of sensation, there to produce in our minds the particular ideas we have of them. And since the exten- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 149 sion, figure, number, and motion of bodies of an observable bigness, may be perceived at a distance by the sight, it is evi- dent that some singly imperceptible bodies must come from them to the eyes, and thereby convey to the brain some mo- tion, which produces these ideas which we have of them in us." § 13. How secondary qualities produce their ideas. " After the same manner that the ideas of these original qual- ities are produced in us, we may conceive that the ideas of secondary qualities are also produced, namely, by the opera- tions of insensible particles on our senses. For it being man- ifest, that there are bodies, and good store of bodies, each whereof are so small, that we cannot by any of our senses discover either their bulk, figure, or motion, as is evident in the particles of the air and water, and others extremely smaller than those, perhaps as much smaller than the particles of air and water, as the particles of air and water are smaller than peas or hailstones : let us suppose at present, that the differ- ent motions and figures, bulk and number, of such particles, affecting the several organs of our senses, produce in us those different sensations, which we have from the colors and smells of bodies ; e. g. that a violet, by the impulse of such insensi- ble particles of matter of peculiar figures and bulks, and in different degrees and modifications of their motions, causes the ideas of the blue color and sweet scent of that flower to be produced in our minds ; it being rio more impossible to con- ceive that God should annex such ideas to such motions, with which they have no similitude, than that he should annex the idea of pain to the motion of a piece of steel dividing our flesh, with which that idea hath no resemblance." § 14. " What I have said concerning colors and smells, may be understood also of tastes, and sounds, and other the like sensible qualities ." If you follow up this whole theory to its principle, so imper- fectly discerned and unfolded, you will find that it rests in the last analysis upon the supposition that, as bodies act upon each other only by contact, and consequently by impulsion, so in the 14 150 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. same way the mind likewise cannot be brought into connec- tion with corporeal things but upon the same condition, that there should be contact between the mind and body, and of course impulse of the one upon the other. Now in sensible ideas, which are involuntary, and in which, according to Locke, the mind is passive, the impulse ought to come from the body upon the mind, and not from the mind upon the body, and the contact cannot take place directly, but indirectly by means of particles. Thus the necessity of contact involves that of particles, which emitted by bodies, obtain admittance by the organs into the brain, and there introduce into the mind what are called sensible ideas. The starting point of the whole theory is the necessity of contact, and in its result it comes out to depend upon intermediate particles and their action. These particles are, in other terms, the sensible species of the Peripatetic Scholasticism, to which modern physics has done justice. There is at the present day no more talk about so- norous, visible, tangible species ; nor can there of course be any more question about their emission, nor consequently about the principle by which they were engendered, namely, the necessity of contact and impulse as the condition of ac- quiring sensible ideas. All this at the present day is only an obsolete' hypothesis, which it would be superfluous to stop to refute. Supposing sensible ideas, however, to be thus formed, once obtained under this condition, which is yet a chimera, let us see in what these ideas differ from each other. According to Locke, the ideas which we have of the pri- mary qualities of matter have this pecuUarity, that they re- semble their object ; while the ideas we have of secondary qualities have this as their peculiarity that they do not resem- ble their objects. B. IL ch. VIIL § 15 : " The ideas of primary quali- ties of bodies are resemblances of them, and their patterns do really exist in the bodies themselves ; but the ideas produced in us by these secondary qualities, have no resemblance of them at all." ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 151 The ideas of secondary qualities do not then resemble those quaUties. Very well ; I am, therefore, according to the theory of Locke, to conclude of course, that the ideas of secondary qualities are mere chimera, and that we have no knowledge of these qualities. In fact, recollect that according to Locke, all knowledge depends upon ideas, and that there is no know- ledge except as far as the idea resembles its object. Now by the acknowledgment of Locke himself, the ideas of secon- dary qualities do not resemble these qualities ; therefore these ideas do not contain any knowledge. It cannot be said that we have indeed a knowledge, though incomplete, of the secondary qualities of bodies. If Locke had intended to say this, he should have said, according to his general theory, that the ideas of secondary qualities do represent, though incom- pletely, their objects. But he says they do not represent them at all, in any degree. They do not therefore involve any, even the most imperfect knowledge ; they contain no knowledge ; they are pure chimeras, like the ideas of fairies, of centaurs, ments, which themselves come from the faculty of judgmg, which is grounded in the original capacity of the mind. ^1 fortiori^ then, we do not begin by ideas ; for ideas are given us in the propositions. Take, for example, the idea of space. It is not given us by itself, but in this complete proposition : there is no body without space, which proposition is only the form of a judgment. Take away the proposition, which would not be made without the judgment, and you have not the ideas ; but as soon as language permits you to translate your judgments into propositions, then you can consider sepa- rately the different elements of these propositions, that is to say, ideas separately from each other. To speak strictly, there are in nature no propositions, neitlier concrete nor abstract, particular nor general, and still less are there ideas in nature. If by ideas be understood something real, which exists inde- pendently of language, and which is an intermediate between beings and the mind, I say that there are absolutely no ideas. There is nothing real except things, and the mind with its operations, that is its judgments. Then come languages, which in some sort create a new world, at once spiritual and material, those symbolic beings which are called signs, words, by the help of which they give a kind of external and inde- pendent existence to the results of mental operations. Thus, in expressing judgments or propositions, they have the appear- ance of giving reality to those propositions. The same is the case in respect to ideas. Ideas are no more real than proposi- tions, they have the same reality, the reahty of abstractions to w^hich lanoruaoe attaches a nominal and conventional exist- ence. Every language is at once an analyst and a poet ; it makes abstractions and it realizes them. This is the condi- tion of every language. We must be resigned to it, and speak in figures, provided we know what we are doing. Thus all the world talk of having an idea of a thing, of having a clear or obscure idea, (fee. ; but by this nobody intends to say, that we have no knowledge of things, except by means of certain intermediate things called ideas ; it is merely intended to mark the operation of the mind in reference to such a thing, the ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 181 operation by which the mind knows the thing, knows it more or less, (fcc. We talk also of representing a thing, and fre- quently a thing which falls not under the senses ; this is merely saying that we know it, comprehend it, saying it, that is, by using a metaphor borrowed from the phenomena of the senses, and from the sense whose use is the most frequent, that of sight. Good taste is ordinarily the sole judge of the employ- ment of these figures. This metaphorical style may be car- ried and is frequently carried very far without obscurity or error. I absolve, then, the ordinary language of the bulk of mankind, and I believe that we may also absolve that of most philosophers, who commonly have spoken as the people, with- out being more absurd than the people. It is impossible, in fact, to forbid the philosopher all metaphors ; the only law which it is necessary to impose upon him, is not to insist upon metaphors, and not to convert them into theories. Perhaps the Scotch school, Avhich has taken up in the eighteenth cen- tury the old controversy against the representative idea, in the name of the common sense of the human race, has not been sufficiently aware that philosophers also make a part of the human race ; perhaps it has imputed too much to the schools, and been too wiUing to see every where the theory which it had undertaken to combat. But it has certainly rendered an eminent service to philosophy, in demonstrating that the idea- image is at the bottom nothing but a metaphor, and in doing justice to this metaphor, if seriously taken as endowed with a representative power. This latter is the vice into which Locke has fallen, and I have thought proper to signalize it with some care, as one of the most perilous rocks of the Sensual school. From the point at which we have now arrived, we can easily judge of the doctrine of innate ideas, the refutation of which occupies the whole of Locke's first book.* The time has now come to explain ourselves concerning this doctrine, and concerning the refutation of Locke. — Locke divides the gene- See Chap. -11. 182 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ral doctrine of innate ideas into two points, general propositions or maxims, and ideas. Now, we likewise reject the doctrine of innate propositions and ideas, and for a very simple reason : because there are in nature neither propositions nor ideas. What is there in nature ? Besides bodies there is nothing except minds, and among these, that which is ourselves, which con- ceives, and knows directly things, minds and bodies. And in the order of minds, what is there innate 7 Nothing but the mind itself, the understanding, the faculty of knowing. The understanding, as Leibnitz has profoundly said, is innate to itself; the developement of the understanding is equally innate, in this sense, that it cannot but take place, when the understand- ing is once given, with the power which is proper to it, [and the conditions of its developement supplied.] And, as you have seen, the developement of the understanding is the judgments which it passes, and the knowledge imphed in those judgments. Undoubtedly, these judgments have conditions, which belong to the domain of experience. Take away experience, and there is nothing in the senses, nothing in the consciousness, and consequently nothing in the understanding. But is this condition the absolute law of the understanding ? Might it not still judge, and develope itself without the aid of experi- ence, without an organic impression, without a sensation ? I neither affirm nor deny it ; hypotheses nonjingo^ as Newton said, I am not framing hypotheses. I state what is, without knowing what might be, what will be, or what may have been. I say, that in the hmits of the present state, it is an undeniable fact, that unless certain experimental conditions are supplied, the mind does not enter into operation, does not judge ; but I say at the same time, that as soon as these con- ditions are fulfilled, the mind, in virtue of its own capacity and force, developes itself, thinks, conceives, judges, and knows a multitude of things, which fall neither under consciousness, nor under the senses, as time, space, external causes, existences, and its own existence. There are no innate ideas, any more than innate propositions ; but there is a capacity, faculty or power innate in the understanding, that acts and projects it- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 183 ,ijif in primitive judgments, which, when language comes in, express themselves in propositions, and these propositions de- composed by abstraction and analysis, engender distinct ideas. As the mind is equal to itself in all men, the primitive judgments which it passes are the same in all men, and consequently, the propositions in which language expresses these judgments, and the fundamental ideas of which they are composed, are at once and universally admitted. One condition is how- ever, necessary, namely," that they should be apprehended. When Locke pretends that these propositions : " whatsoever is, 15," and " it is impossible for the same thing to be, and not to 6e," are propositions which are not universally nor primi- tively admitted, he is both right and wrong. Certainly, the first comer, the peasant to whom you should say : whatever is, is, and it is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be^ would not admit these propositions, for he would not corhprehend them, because you speak a language which is not his own, the language of abstraction and of analysis. But that which the peasant does not admit and does not comprehend under its abstract form, he admits immediately and necessarily under the concrete and synthetic form. Ask this same man who does not comprehend your metaphysical language, whether under the different actions or sensations of which he is con- scious, there is not something real and subsistent, which is himself; and whether he is not himself the same to-day that he was yesterday; in a word, instead of abstract formulas, propose to him particular, determinate and concrete questions, and then human nature will give you an answer, because human nature, the human understanding, is in the peasant as really as in Leibnitz. — What I have just said concerning abstract and general propositions, I say concerning the simple ideas which analysis finds in these propositions. For example, ask a savage if he has the idea of God ; you ask him what he cannot reply to, for he does not understand it. But if you know how to interrogate this poor savage, you will see proceed from his intelUgence a synthetic and confused idea, which, if you know how to read it, contains already every thing which 184 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. the most refined analysis could ever give you ; you will see that under the confusion of their natural judgments, which they neither know how to separate nor to express, the savage, the child, the idiot even, if he is not entirely one, admit origi- nally and universally all the ideas which subsequent analysis developes without producing, or of which it produces only the scientific form. There are, then, indeed, no innate ideas, nor innate propo- sitions, because there are no ideas nor propositions really exist- ing. Again, there are no general ideas and propositions uni- versally and primitively admitted under the form of general ideas and propositions. But it is certain, that the understand- ing of all men teems, so to say, with natuial judgments, which may be called innate in this sense, that they are the primitive, universal and necessary developement of the human mind, which finally is innate to itself, and equal to itself, in all men.* * See Appendix, Note BB. CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE'S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. CHAPTER EIGHTH. 17 CONTENTS OF CHAPTER EIGHTH. Examination of the fourth Book of the Essay on the Understanding continued. Of Knowledge. Its modes. Omission of inductive know- ledge. — Its degrees. False distinction of Locke between knowing and judging. — That the theory of knowledge and of judgment in Locke re- solves itself into that of a perception of agreement or disagreement between ideas. Detailed examination of this theory. — That it applies to judgments abstract and not primitive, but by no means to primitive judgments which implyj existence. — Analysis of the judgment : / exist. Three objections : I. the impossibility of arriving at real ex- istence by the abstraction of existence ; 2. that to begin by abstrac- tion is contrary to the true process of the human mind ; 3. that the theory of Locke involves a paralogism. — Analysis of the judg- ments : / thinkj this body exists^ this body is colored, God exists, <^c. — Analysis of the judgments upon which Arithmetic and Geometry rest CHAPTER EIGHTH. We have stopped some time at the entrance of the fourth Book of the Essay on the Understanding ; let us now pass within. This book treats of knowledge in general, of its dif- ferent modes, of its different degrees, of its extent and limits, with some applications. It is therefore, properly speaking. Logic with something of Ontology. The principle of this Logic rests upon the theory we have examined, that of the representative idea. We have seen that, with Locke, the con- dition of all legitimate knowledge is the conformity of the idea to the object ; and we have every way proved that this con- formity is nothing but a chimera. We have then already overthrown the general theory of knowledge, but we have overthrown it only in its principle. It is necessary now to ex- amine it in itself, independent of the principle of the represent- ative idea, and to follow it in its appropriate developement and consequences. Whether the idea is representative or not, it is a settled point in the system of Locke that the understanding does not commence by things but by ideas ; that ideas are the sole ob- jects of the understanding, and consequently the sole founda- tions of knowledge. Now if all knowledge necessarily de- pends upon ideas, then where there is no idea there is no knowledge, and every where that there is knowledge, there has necessarily been an idea. But the converse is not true, there is not necessarily knowledge, wherever there is an idea. For instance, in order that you may be able to have a correct knowledge of God, it is necessary that you should first have some idea of God ; but from your having some idea of God, it does not follow that you have a correct knowledge of him. Thus knowledge is limited by ideas, but it does not necessarily go along with and as far as ideas. 188 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. B. IV. ch. 3. § L " We can have knowledge no farther than we have ideasJ^ Ibid, § 6. " Our knowledge is narrower than our ideas." If knowledge never surpasses the ideas and sometimes falls short of them, and if all know- ledge depends upon ideas, it is clear that knowledge can never be any thing but the relation of one idea to another ; and that the process of the human mind in knowledge is nothing else than the perception of a relation of some sort between ideas. B. IV. ch. 1, § 1. " Since the mind in all its thoughts and reasonings, hath no other immediate object but its own ideas? which it alone does or can contemplate, it is evident that our knowledge is only conversant about them." § 2. " Know- ledge then seems to me to be nothing but the perception of the connection and agreement, or disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas. In this alone it consists. Where this perception is, there is knowledge ; and where it is not, there though we may fancy, guess, or believe, yet we always come short of knowledge." Thence follow the different modes and degrees of know- ledge in the system of Locke. We know only when we per- ceive a relation of agreement or disagreement between two ideas. -Now we may perceive this relation in two ways : we may either perceive it immediately, and then the knowledge is intuitive ; or we may not be able to perceive it immediately, we may be obliged to have recourse to another idea, or to several other ideas, which we put between the two ideas whose relation cannot be directly perceived, so that thereby we may seize and apprehend the relation which escapes us. Know- ledge is then called demonstrative. (B. IV. ch. 2, § 1, — 2.) Locke there makes an excellent remark which ought not to be omitted, and for which it is just to give him credit. No doubt we are often compelled to resort to demonstration, to the in- terposition of one or more ideas, in order to perceive the latent relation of two ideas ; but this new idea which we inteipose between the two others, it is necessary that we should per- ceive its relation to each of the others. Now if the percep- tion of this relation between that idea and the two others, is ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 189 not intuitive, if it is demonstrativcj it would be necessary to have recourse again to a new idea, and thus on ad infinitum. The perception of the relation between the middle term and the extremes must therefore be intuitive ; and it must be so in all the degrees of deduction, so that demonstrative evidence is grounded upon intuitive, and always supposes it. B. IV. ch. 2, § 7. " Each step must have intuitive evi- dence. Now in every step reason makes in demonstrative knowledge, there is an intuitive knowledge of that agreement or disagreement it seeks with the next intermediate idea, which it uses as a proof; for if it were not so, that yet would need a proof ; since without the perception of such argreement or dis- agreement, there is no knowledge produced. If it be perceiv- ed by itself, it is intuitive knowledge ; if it cannot be perceiv- ed by itself, there is need of some intervening idea, as a com- mon measure to show their agreement or disagreement. By which it is plain that every step in reasoning that produces knowledge, has intuitive certainty ; which when the mind perceives, there is no more required but to remember it, to make the agreement or disagreement of the ideas, concerning which we inquire, visible and certain. So that to make any thing a demonstration, it is necessary to perceive the immedi- ate agreement of the intervening ideas, whereby the agree- ment or disagreement of the two ideas under examination, (whereof the one is always the first, and the other the last in the account) is found. This intuitive perception of the agree- ment or disagreement of the intei mediate ideas, in each step and progression of the demonstration, must also be carried exactly in the mind, and a man must be sure that no part is left out." Thus intuition and demonstration are the different modes of knowledge according to Locke. But are there no others ? Have we not knowledge which we acquired neither by intui- tion nor demonstration ? How do we acquire a knowledge of the laws of external nature ? Take which you please, gravi- tation, for instance. Certainly there is no simple intuition and immediate evidence here ; for experiments multiplied and 17* 190 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. combined, are necessary to give the slightest law, and even this will not suffice, since the slightest law surpasses the num- ber, whatever it be, of experiments from which it is drawn. There is therefore need of an intervention of some other ope- ration of the mind besides intuition. Is it demonstration? Impossible ; for demonstration is the perception of a relation between two ideas by means of a thud, but it is upon this con- dition, that the latter should be more general than the two others, in order to embrace and connect them. To demon- strate is, in the last analysis, to deduce the particular from the general. Now what is the more general physical law from which gravitation can be deduced ? We have not deduced the knowledge of gravitation from any other knowledge anterior to it, and which involves it in the germe. How, then, have we acquired this knowledge, which we certainly have ; and in general, how have we acquired the knowledge of physical laws ? A phenomenon having been presented a number of times, with a particular character and in particular circumstan- ces, we have judged that if this same phenomena should ap- pear again in similar circumstances, it would have the same character ; that is to say, we have generalized the particular character of this phenomenon. Instead of descending from the general to the particular, we have ascended from the par- ticular to the general. This general character is what we call a law ; this law we have not deduced from a more gene- ral law or character ; we have derived it from particular ex- periments in order to transfer it beyond them. It is not a sim- ple resumption, nor a logical deduction ; it is neither simple intuition nor demonstration. It is what we call inductmu It is to induction that we owe all our conquests over nature, all our discoveries of the laws of the world. For a long time natural philosophers contented themselves with very limited observations which furnished no great results, or with specu- lations which resulted in nothing but hypotheses. Induction for a long time was only a natural process of the human mind, of which men made use for acquiring the knowledge they need- ed in respect tothe external world, without explaining it, and ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. I9i without its passing from practice into science. It is to Bacon, chiefly, we owe, not the invention, but the discovery and sci- entific exposition of this process. It is strange that Locke, a countryman of Bacon, and who belongs to his school, should in his classification of the modes of knowledge, have permit- ted precisely that one to escape him to which the school of Bacon has given the greatest celebrity, and placed in the clearest light. It is strange that the whole Sensual school, which pretends to be the legitimate offspring of Bacon, should, after the example of Locke, have almost forgotten the evi- dence of induction among the different species of evidence, and that at its first entrance upon what an experimental school should have done, it has neglected induction to bury itself in demonstration. This is the reason of the singular but unde- niable phenomenon, that in the eighteenth century, the logic of the Sensual school was scarcely any thing but a reflection of the peripatetic scholasticism of the middle age, of that scholasticism which admitted no other processes in knowledge than intuition and demonstration.* Let us now see what, according to Locke, are the different degrees of knowledge. Sometimes we know with certainty, without the least blend- ing of doubt with our knowledge. Sometimes also, instead of absolute knowledge, we have only probable knowledge. Probability also has its degrees, and its particular grounds. Locke treats them at large. I advise you to read with care the chapters, not indeed very profound, but sufficiently exact, in which he discusses the different degrees of knowledge. I cannot go into all these details, but will content myself with pointing out to you the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of the fourth book. I shall particularly notice a dis- tinction to which Locke attaches great importance, and which, in my opinion, is without foundation. We either know in a certain and absolute manner, or we know merely in a manner more or less probable. Locke choo- ses to employ the term knowledge exclusively to signify abso- * See Appendix, Note CC 192 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. lute knowledge, that which is raised above all probability. The knowledge which is wanting in certainty, simple conjec- ture, or presumption more or less probable, he calls judgment. B. IV. ch. 14. § 4 : " The mind has two faculties, conver- sant about truth and falsehood. Firsts knowledge^ whereby it certainly perceives and is undoubtedly satisfied of the agree- ment, or disagreement of any ideas. Secondly^ judg- ment, which is the putting ideas together, or separating them from one another in the mind, when their certain agreement or disagreement is not perceived, but presumed to be so ; which is as the word imports, taken to be so, before it certainly ap- pears." But the general usage of all languages is contrary to so lim- ited a sense of the word knowledge, a certain knowledge, or a probable knowledge is always spoken of as knowledge in its different degrees. It is so in regard to judgment. As lan- guages have not confined the term knowledge to absolute knowledge, so they have not limited the term judgment to knowledge merely probable. In some cases we pass certain and decisive judgments ; in others we pass judgments Avhich are only probable, or even purely conjectural. In a word, judgments are infallible, or doubtful in various degrees ; but doubtful or infallible, they are always judgments, and this dis- tinction between knowledge as exclusively infallible, and judg- ment as being exclusively probable, is verbal distinction alto- gether arbitrary and barren. Time has done justice to it by rejecting it ; but it seems to have spared the theory on which the distinction is founded, the theory which makes both know- ledge and judgment consist in the perception of a relation of agreement or disagreement between two ideas. All ver- bal distinction laid aside, to know or to judge, is with Locke nothing but to perceive, intuitively or demonstratively, a rela- tion of agreement or disagreement, whether certain or proba- ble, between two ideas. This is the theory of knowledge and of judgment according to Locke, reduced to its simplest ex- pression. From Locke it passed into the Sensual school, where it enjoys an undisputed authority, and forms the acknow- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 193 ledged theory of judgment. It requires, then, and deserves a scrupulous examination. In the first place, let us accurately state the extent of this theory. It pretends not merely that there are judg- ments which are nothing else than perceptions of the re- lation of agreement or disagreement of ideas ; but it pretends that every judgment is subject to this condition. The ques- tion is concerning the truth of this universal assertion. Locke distinguishes four relations which the understanding may perceive between ideas, (B. IV. ch. I. § 3.) Ideas are either identical or diverse, a relation called by Locke identity or diversity ; they have also simply a relation of some sort un- determined and called by Locke relation ; they have a relation either of simple co-existence or of necessary connection ; and finally, they express a relation of real existence. Thus there can be only these four sorts of relations : 1. general relation ; 9. identity or diversity ; 3. co-existence or necessary connex- ion ; 4. real existence. The whole question now before us is, whether these embrace every thing, whether there is not some knowledge, some judgment which escapes these categories. Let us see then. Let us go from knowledge to knowledge, from judgment to judgment ; if we can find no knowlege, no judgment, which is not the perception of one of these rela- tions, then the theory of Locke is absolute. If, on the contra- ry, we find a single judgment which escapes this condition, the theory of Locke, so far as it is set up for an unlimited and universal theory, is destroyed. Let us take some knowledge or judgment. I propose the following judgment : two and three are five. This is not a a chimera, it is a knowledge, a judgment, and it is certain. How do we acquire this knowledge, what are the conditions of this judgment ? The theory of Locke supposes three : I. that there are two ideas present to the understanding, known anterior to the percep- tion of relation ; 2. that there is a comparison of these two ideas ; 3. that at the end of this comparison there is a perception of some relation between the two ideas. Two ideas, a compari- 194 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. son of them, a perception of a relation derived from the com- parison : such are the conditions of the theory of Locke. Let us reflect : two and three make five. Where are the two ideas ? Two and three, and five. Suppose I had not these two ideas, these two terms, on the one hand, two and three, and on the other, five. Could I ever perceive that there was a relation between them of equality or inequality, identi- ty or diversity ? No, And having these two terms, if I did not compare them, should I ever perceive their relation. Cer- tainly not. And if in comparing them, their relation, spite of all my exertions, should escape my understanding, should I ever arrive at the result, that two and three make five 7 By no means. And suppose these three conditions to be supplied, is the result infallibly obtained ? I see nothing wanting to it. Thus far, then, the theory of Locke seems to work well. I will take another arithmetical example. But arithmetical ex- amples have this peculiarity, that they are all alike. What in fact are arithmetical truths but relations of numbers ? They are nothing else. Arithmetical knowledge then falls under the theory of Locke concerning knowledge ; and an arith- metical judgment, if the expression may be used, is nothing else than the perception of a relation of numbers. Thus far, then, the theory of Locke is perfectly sound. Shall we take Geometry ? But if geometrical truths are nothing but relations of magnitude, it is clee^r that no geome- trical truth can be obtained, except under the condition of hav- ing previously two ideas of magnitude, then of comparing them, and then of deducing a relation of agreement or disa- greement. And as all mathematics, as Newton has said, is only a universal arithmetic, it seems true that mathematical judgment in general is nothing but a perception of relations. Let us take other examples a little at hazard. I wish to know if Alexander is a truly great man. It is a question fre- quently agitated. It is evident that unless I have on the one hand the idea of Alexander, and on the other an idea of a truly great man, and unless I compare these two ideas, and perceive between them a relation of agreement or disagreement, I can- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 195 not decide whether Alexander is a great man or not. Here again we must necessarily have two ideas, a particular idea, that of Alexander, and a general idea, that of a great man, and we compare these two ideas to know if they agree or dis- agree with each other, if the predicate can be affirmed of the subject, if the subject falls under the predicate, at it, as having blended with the part of truth, which recom- mended it, many errors and extravagances. And in what way, was I to combat the school of Sensation ? I promised you to combat the errors of one school, by all the truth there was in the opposite school. I was, then, to combat the exag- gerations of Sensualism, with what there is of sound and rea- sonable in IdeaUsm. This I have done. I have combatted the Essay on the Human Understanding with arguments, which I have not always cared, by an untimely show of erudition, to refer in detail to their respective authors ; but which, I avow, belong not to me. Perhaps there is something of my own, if I may be permitted to say it, in the develope- ment of these arguments, and in the conduct of the discus- sion, and above all in its general, and in some sort, its moral spirit. But the arguments in themselves, pertain for the most part to the Spiritual school in its most reasonable, that is to say, its negative side, which is always the soundest part of every school. At a future day, I shall take up the Spiritual school ; I shall examine it in its positive elements, and there I shall turn against it, against its sublime errors and its mys- tic tendencies, the solid arms which the good sense of Empiri- cism and of Scepticism will frequently furnish. In the mean tune, it is with the dialectics of SpirituaUsm, that I have com- batted the extravagances of the Empiric school, as they ap- pear in Locke, the representative of that school in the eigh- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 279 teenth century. It is not, however, Ancient Idealism which I have invoked against modern Empiricism ; for the one does not answer to the other; Ancient philosophy, and Modern philosophy do not serve each other and enlighten each other, except on the highest summits of science, and for a veiy small number of the elect thinkers. It is therefore modern Spiritu- alism which I have used against modern Empiricism ; I have employed against it in the eighteenth century, the arms which the eighteenth century itself furnished. Thus T have oppos- ed to Locke the great men who followed him, and who, having followed him, were to modify and combat, in order to pass be- yond him, and lead onward the march of science. It is not therefore even from Leibnitz, who is too far back, but from Reid and Kant, that I have borrowed arguments. But I have had almost always to change the form of them ; for their form savors a little of the country of those two great men. Both express themselves, as men talk at Edinburg and at Konigsburg ; which is not the way in which men express themselves in France. I have therefore neglected the phra- seology of Ried, and particularly of Kant, but I have preserv- ed the substance of their arguments. You are not acquainted with Kant ; one day I shall endeavor to make you acquaint- ed with that mind, so powerful, so deep and sharp thinking, and so elevated, the Descartes of the age. But the works of the judicious Reid are accessible to you, with the admirable commentary of Royer-Collard.* The Scotch philosophy [of Reid and Stewart] will prepare you for the German phi- losophy. It is to Reid and Kant I refer in great part the con- troversy I have carried on against Empiricism as represented in the person of Locke. I was also to be just towards the Empiric school ; while combatting it, I was to take up its part of truth as well as of error. Have I not also done this ? I have recognized and sig- nahzed every thing good in different parts of the Essay on *Oeuvres competes de Reid, avecles lecons de M. Royer-CoUard, par M.Jouffroy. 6 vols. 280 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. the Understanding. I have carefully brought out the happy commencement of Locke's method, and explained his theories before attacking the errors into which the spirit of system threw him. Finally, I have rendered full homage to Locke as a man and a philosopher. I have done this with all my heart ; for, in fact, philosophy is not such or such a particular school, but it is the common foundation, and so to say, the life of all schools. It is distinct from all systems, but it is blended with all ; for it manifests, developes, and advances itself, only by them. Its union is even their variety, so dis- cordant in appearance, and in leality so profoundly harmoni- ous. Its progress and its glory, is their mutual perfectionment by reciprocal pacific counteraction. When we attack, without qualification, any considerable particular school, we proscribe unawares some real element of the human mind and of truth, and philosophy itself is in some part wounded. When we do undiscriminating outrage to the work of a celebrated phi- losopher, to whatever school he may belong, we outrage phi- losophy, reason, and human nature itself in the person of one of its choicest representatives. I trust that nothing of this kind will ever come from me ; for what, before all things, I profess to teach, is not such or such a philosophy, but philos- ophy itself ; not attachment to such or such a system, how- ever grand it may be ; not the admiration of particular men, whatever their genius ; but the philosophic spirit, superior to all systems and all philosophies, the boundless love of truth wherever it may be met ; the understanding of all systems which, pretending to contain all the truth, at least contain something of the truth, and respect for all men who seek for it with talent and loyalty. The true muse of the historian of philosophy is not Hatred, but Love ; and the mission of philosophical criticism is, not merely to signahze the extrava- gances, too real and too numerous, of philosophical systems, but also, to disengage from the folds of error, the truths which may and must be involved in them, and thereby to absolve philosophy in the past, to embolden and enlighten it for the future. ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. APPENDIX TO COUSIN'S EXAMINATION OF LOCKE NOTES AND ADDITIONS. 25 NOTES AND ADDITIONS. Note A, p. 12. Consciousness. — The fact of consciousness is the condition of all knowledge and all philosophy . It is " the light of all our seeing." The various definitions which have been given to this word by different writers, and the vagueness with which it has been used, appear to result from the difficulty of distinguishing the different elements which, in their inseparable and blended action, meike up the complex whole of intellectual reality and life ; or rather, in which variety the unity of intellectual life manifests itself. It is difficult to see the distinct in the inseparable ; to see a part in a whole, without confounding it with the whole. It is difficult, on the other hand, to distinguish without separating and destroying. And again, where any one element is present, and inseparably connected with each and all the other elements of a complex whole, there is great danger of confounding it with some one or other of those elements, apart from which it is never found, while yet it is distinct from each and all of them. — This is the case with regard to Consciousness. It is not the mind itself, but the light in which all the phenomena of the mind are reflected to itself. We know ourselves and every thing that we know, only in the light of consciousness. We find ourselves and all things in consciousness. It is the light in which we see all things, yet it is not the seeing itself. It reveals to the mind its various modifica- tions, its feelings, sensations, thoughts, and volitions ; yet, though connected with them, it is distinct from them all. It is neither a pure passivity nor a voluntary activity, though it may appear on both hands to partake of the nature of the modifications of which it informs us. It is a spontaneity, a fact. It is neither a machine nor an agent. It is not a product of the mind, nor an effect of the will. Thought and volition are produced ; but consciousness is a 284 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. witness of our thoughts and volitions ; though the most eminent fact of consciousness — self-affirmation — may indeed be conditioned by an act of the will ; yet this reflective act is ulterior to the piimitive, spontaneous fact of consciousness, in which the me is first revealed in opposition to the not-me. Consciousness, considered as the condition of perceiving imme- diately whatever passes within us, has, by some, been confounded with the internal sensibility. — Reid, on the contrary, appears to regard it as a distinct and special faculty of the mind, whose office is in general to observe the operations of the other faculties. — This view is rejected by Brown, who seems to consider conscious- ness as nothing more than a general word to express the aggre- gate of the phenomena or states of the mind. — Many nice questions have been made by other writers, in regard to the discrimination of the sense of the words consciousness, self, and the I, " We know nothing of ourself," says Heinroth, "without consciousness. What is consciousness ? Is it the I itself ; or is it a special prop- erty, operation, activity of the I ; or something different, only standing in necessaiy connexion with it ? At least, we cannot separate the I from consciousness : it is found only in and with our consciousness, and cannot be thought apart from consciousness. They are therefore inseparable. Are they, then, one and the same thing ? Let us consider. I find myself in consciousness : the I is my self^ illuminated and revealed by the light of con- sciousness. Without the rays which fall from consciousness upon my self, this self would be no L The brute is, without doubt, a self, but he is no I ; for consciousness is wanting in him. I can and must think that my self might have been, and may be, without consciousness ; for I know as certainly as I now am, that I was, before I became an L"* These distinctions may seem more nice than vaHd. It is indeed true, that the words self, /, and consciousness, considered as objects * Heinroth's Psychologic, p. 27. His Lehrbuch der Anthropologic like- wise contains very interesting developements of this subject, though not comparative and critical. For 'these, see Tenneman's Grundriss der Ges- chichte der Philosophic, 5th Edition, by Wendt, Leipzig, 1829. A poor translation of this work has been published in England. There deserves to be a good one. — Cousin has likewise translated the same work into French. His extensive and accurate acquaintance with the history of philosophy in general, and of the German in particular, enabled him to make as good a translation as the genius of the French language would permit. APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 285 of reflection in the human mind, are so intimately blended and so inseparable, that they are and can be used interchangeably, with- out error of thought, even in general philosophical discussion. Yet still there may be ground for the distinctions above made, viz., selfy as denoting existence distinct from consciousness, not, however, existence in general, but a particular, determinate, distinct exis- tence, a particular actual being; I, as denoting the conscious feeling and affirmation of actual existence as the distinct and per- manent subject of all the phenomena by which the self is mani- fested ; and consciousness, as the condition, a priori, of that feeling, the law or principle from which it arises, and by which the I knows and affirms itself, and knows and distinguishes itself from all the mind's representations, whether referable to the subject or object, to the me or not.?ne. — Certainly we apply the word self in common language, in this sense, to a variety of objects, where we do not imply consciousness in the objects, but only a particular, distinct, and determinate actual existence, — Passing by all this, however, thus much may be held as certain, that consciousness, and the I are inseparable. There is no I without consciousness ; and the eminent fact of the consciousness is the separating of the I from the representations of the mind, as the subject from the object : " Quod representatio ad objectum et subjectum refertur, et ab utroque discernitur, oritur conscieniia, (Bewusstseyn.)"* It is enough, however, for our purpose, here to say, that con- sciousness is not to be confounded neither with the sensibility (external or internal,) nor with the understanding, nor with the will ; neither is it a distinct and special faculty of the mind ; nor is it the principle of any of the faculties ; nor is it, on the other hand, the product of them. Still less is it a mere generalization to express the total series of representations, a. merely verbal or logical bond to bring into a collective unity the various phenomena of the mind. It is the condition of all knowledge : it is that in which all the representations of the mind are revealed to the self, in opposition to the not-self It is not the result of experience, (though conditioned by it,) since it is pre-supposed in experience, and renders experience possible. For there is no experience without knowledge ; and in order to knowledge it is not only ne- cessaiy that the sensibility should be affected, but that the mind, * Reuss, Initia Doctrince Philos. solidioris, Salzb., 1798, Part I. p, 6. 25* 286 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. re-acting upon the sensibility and connecting itself with it, reprC' sentations, or mental phenomena, as the joint effect, should be produced ; and these representations, as objects, when perceived through the light of consciousness, by the intelhgence as the subject, constitute knowledge direct and immediate, which, in its most general term, is feeling; or, if the conscious representation is referred exclusively to the subject, sensation ; if to the object, perception. Consciousness has been defined in the Critical Phi- losophy, as the act of referring that in a phenomenon which belongs to the subject, to the subject ; and that which belongs to the object, to the object ; as the power of distinguishing ourselves from exter- nal objects, and from our own thoughts. Perhaps the most correct description of the mind in consciousness, i. e., of the conscious states of the mind, is the being aware of the phenomena of the mind — of that which is present to the mind ; and if self-consciousness be distinguished, not in genere, but as a special determination of consciousness, it is the being aware of ourselves, as of the me in opposition to the not-me, or as the permanent subject, distinct from the phenomena, and from all the outward causes of them. Note B, p. 13. The Natural and the Philosophical Consciousness. — Reflection is used' by Locke in the signification of the natural consciousness common to all reflecting beings ; but is taken by Cousin, in this passage, to imply a particular determination of consciousness by the will. It is a voluntary falling back upon the natural and spontaneous consciousness ; it is an act of self- reduplication. It is in this sense that he regards reflection as the special attribute of the philosophic mind. All men are endowed with the natural consciousness, while in many the faculty of higher speculation never appears. The one is like the scales in common use, and answers the ends of ordinary life ; the other is like the golden scales of the chemist, to appreciate the slightest weight : or the one is the vision of the unaided eye, the other the vision aided by the microscope. — In this connexion, I am reminded of a passage in Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, Vol. I. p. 151, New- York edition. The reader will observe that he does not consider the power of phi- losophical insight to be as common as Cousin would seem to make APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 287 it. " It is neither possible nor necessary for all men, or for many, to be PHILOSOPHERS. There is a 'philosophic, (and inasmuch as it is actualized by an effort of freedom, an artificial) consciousness, which lies beneath, or, (as it were,) behind the spontaneous con- sciousness natural to all reflecting beings. As the elder Romans distinguished their northern provinces into Cis-Alpine and Trans- Alpine, so may we divide all the objects of human knowledge into those on this side, and those on the other side of the spontaneous consciousness ; citra et trans conscientiam communem. The latter is exclusively the domain of Pure philosophy. The first range of hills, that encircles the scanty vale of human life, is the horizon for the majority of its inhabitants. On its ridges the com- mon sun is born and departs. From them the stars rise, and touching them they vanish. By the many, even this range, the natural limit and bulwark of the vale, is but imperfectly known. Its higher ascents are too often hidden by mists and clouds from uncultivated swamps, which few have courage or curiosity to penetrate. To the multitude Ijelow these vapors appear, now, as the dark haunts of terrific agents, on which none may intrude with impunity ; and now all a-glow, with colors not their own, they are gazed at as the splendid palaces of happiness and power. But in all ages there have been a few who, measuring and sound- ing the rivers of the vale, at the feet of their furthest inaccessible falls, have learnt, that the sources must be far higher and far in- ward ; a few, who even in the level streams have detected ele- ments, which neither the vale itself nor the surrounding mountains contained or could supply." " It is the essential mark of the true philosopher to rest satisfied with no imperfect light, as long as the impossibility of attaining a fuller knowledge has not been demon- strated. That the common consciousness itself will furnish proofs by its own direction that it is connected with master-currents be- low the surface, I shall merely assume as a postulate pro tempore. This having been granted, though but in expectation of the argu- ment, I can safely deduce from it the equal truth of my former assertion that philosophy cannot be intelligible to all, even of the most learned and cultivated classes. A system, the first principle of which it is to render the mind intuitive of the spiritual in man, (i. e. of that which lies on the other side of our natural conscious- ness) must needs have a great obscurity for those who have never 288 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. disciplined and strengthened this ulterior consciousness." — " A system which aims to deduce the memory with all the other func- tions of intelligence, must of course place its first position from beyond the memory, and anterior to it, otherwise the principle of solution would be itself a part of the problem to be solved." He then goes on to show the nature and necessity of postu- LATES in philosophy, and illustrates them from the science of mathe- matics, in which the first construction in space, the point, is not demonstrated but postulated ; and that Geometry, beginning not with a demonstration, but with an intuition, a practical idea, fur- nishes an illustration of a primary intuition, from which every sci- ence that lays claim to evidence must take its commencement. " But here" he goes on " an important difference presents it- self. Philosophy is employed on objects of the inner sense, and cannot, like geometry, appropriate to every construction a corres- pondent outward intuition. Nevertheless, philosophy, if it is to ar- rive at evidence must proceed from the most original construction, and the question then is, what is the most original construction or first productive act for the inner sense. The answer to this ques- tion depends on the direction which is given to the inner sense. But in philosophy the inner sense cannot have its direction deter- mined by any outward object. To the original construction of the line, I can be compelled by a line drawn before me on the slate or on sand. • The stroke thus drawn is indeed not the line itself, but only the image or picture of the line. It is not from it that we first learn to know the line ; but, on the contrary, we bring this stroke to the original line, generated by the act of the imagination ; otherwise we could not define it as without breadth or thickness. Still, however, this stroke is the sensuous image of the original or ideal hne, and an efficient mean to excite every imagination to the intuition of it. " It is demanded then, whether there be found any means in philosophy to determine the direction of the inner sense, as in mathematics it is determinable by its specific image or outward picture. Now, the inner sense has its direction determined for the greater part only by an act of freedom. One man's consciousness extends only to the pleasant or unpleasant sensations caused in him by external impressions ; another enlarges his inner sense to a consciousness of forms and quantity ; a third, in addition to the APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 289 image, is conscious of the conception or notion of the thing ; a fourth attains to a notion of notions — he reflects on his own reflec- tions ; and thus we may say, without impropriety, that the one possesses more or less inner sense than the other. This more or less betrays already that philosophy, in its principles, must have a practical or moral, as well as a theoretical or speculative side. This difference in degree does not exist in the mathematics. So- crates in Plato shows, that an ignorant slave may be brought to understand, and, of himself, to solve the most geometrical problem. Socrates drew the figures for the slave in the sand. The disci- ples of the critical philosophy could likewise (as was indeed actu- ally done by La Forge and some other followers of Des Cartes) represent the origin of our representations in copper- plates ; but no one has yet attempted it, and it would be utterly useless. To an. Esquimaux or- New Zealander our most popular philosophy 'would be wholly unintelligible ; for the sense, the inward organ, is not yet born in him. So is there many a one among us, yes, and some who think themselves philosophers too, to whom the phi- losophic organ is entirely wanting. To such a man, philosophy is a mere play of words and notions, like a theory of music to the deaf, or like the geometry of light to the blind. The connection of the parts and their logical dependencies may be seen and re- membered ; but the whole is groundless and hollow, unsustained by living contact, unaccompanied with any realizing intuition which exists by, and in the act that affirms its existence, which is known, because it is, and is, because it is known." Note C, p. 15. Ideology, — M. Destutt de Tracy. — The word Ideology came in- to use in France, about the beginning of the present century, and became the general designation of philosophy in the Sensual school. One of the most distinguished writers of the Idelogical school is the Count Destutt de Tracy, to whom perhaps the word owes its origin. He was born in 1754. His Elemens d' Ideologic 2v. 8vo. were published at Paris 1801 — 1804. Among his other works are : Traite' de la Volonte', — Commentaire de r Esprit des Lois, Paris, 1819, — Principes logiques, Paris; 1817. — He is the metaphysician of the Sensual school at the period when Cabanis 290 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. may be considered as its physiologist, and Volney its moralist. From the strictness of his thinking, and the clearness of his style, Cousin considers him the most faithful and complete representative of his school. His writings are characterized by the attempt at logical simpHcity, and by a great talent for it. He excels in abstrac- tion and generalization ; he reasons with strictness from the data he starts from, but without much scrutiny of the grounds on which those data rest, or the processes by which they were furnished. His theory of the mind is very simple. The mind, according to him, is nothing but sensation, or more properly the sensibility, of which sensation is the exercise. The sensibility is susceptible of different sorts of impression : 1. those which arise from the present action of objects upon its organs ; 2. those which result from their past action, by means of a certain disposition which that action left up- on the organs ; 3. those of things which have relations, and may be compared ; 4. those which spring from our wants and lead us to satisfy them. Every thing thus comes from the exercise of the sensibility through impressions made upon the organs of sense. When the sensibility is affected by the first sort of impression, it feels simply, when by the second, it repeats or recollects ; when by the third, it feels the relations or judges ; when by the fourth, it desires or wills. Thus Sensation, according to the nature of its objects, manifests itself respectively as pure perception, or memo- ry, or judgment, or will. It is therefore the sole principle of all our faculties and of all the operations of the mind ; since there is none of them which may not be reduced to one or the other of these forms of sensibility. — See Damiron's Histoire de la Philo. Sophie en France an 19 me Steele, vol. L p. 99, for a special exam- ination and refutation of this theory. Note E, p. 24. Maillefs Telliamed, — Benedict de Maillet, born in Lorraine in 1659 ; French Consul in Egypt, and afterwards at Leghorn ; died at Marsailles in the year 1738. He was an ardent student of natural history, and a man of a fanciful turn of mind. He pro- duced a system which for some time excited considerable interest. He maintained that all the land of the earth, and its vegetable and APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 291 animal inhabitants rose from the bosom of the sea, by successive contractions of the waters ; that men had originally been Tritons with tails ; and that they, as well as other animals, had lost their marine, and acquired terrestrial forms, by their agitations when left upon dry ground. The work was published after the death of its author by La Mascrier, who also published in 1743 a " De- scription of Egypt drawn up from the papers of De Maillet." Note F, p. 25. Of Method, and the order of philosophical questions, — Although this chapter exhibits the most material points in regard to the doc- trine of Method, yet the subject is so important that a few addi- tional remarks may not be out of place. For as Cousin justly ob- serves, the adoption of a method decides the destinies of a philo- sophy. A system is scarcely any thing but the developement of a method applied to the objects of investigation and explanation. The history of philosophy shows that every doctrine which has exerted a decided influence upon the human mind, has done it by the new direction it has given to thinking by the new point of view it has taken, that is by its Method. Every philosophical reform heis its principle in a change, or extension and improvement of method. — There is no longer any question at the present day what the true method of philosophy is. It is the experimental method, the method of Observation and Induction. The problem of philo- sophy is the analysis of consciousness. Psychology is contained entire in the consciousness ; it is formed by the observation and arrangement of facts. These facts are the phenomena of con- sciousness. Yet it is by no means a random observation ; it must be guided, as in the correct application of the method of observa- tion to the phenomena of the outward world, by the experimental intention ; the facts are not only to be observed, that is the phe- nomena in their actual appearance, but their characteristics and relations ; they are to be classified, and the laws also of the mind which necessarily operate upon the facts of observation, are not only to act as they do and must, but as likewise themselves phe- nomena of the consciousness, they are to be observed and recog- nized. — Now a method may be sound in principle, and yet it may 292 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. be imperfectly comprehended, not understood in its extent ; it may be partially applied ; and it may not take up the questions in their proper order. In this view we have the key to the history and fortunes of philosophical systems : both of their success and spread, and of their subsequent decline and overthrow by other systems. Their power is in the element of truth ; their overthrow in the error, the defect, exaggeration, or wrong application of method. Take the history of Sensualism. In England and France in the eighteenth century, as Cousin remarks in his Philosophical Frag- mentSf Locke and Condillac supplanted the great schools of a pre- ceding age, and have reigned nearly up to the present time. In- stead of being angry at this fact, our business is to understand it. For after all, facts do not make themselves ; they have their gen- eral laws, laws resulting from the structure of human nature. If the philosophy of Sensation became accredited in England and France, there is reason for the fact. This reason does no dis- credit to the human mind. It is not its fault, that it could not re- main within bounds of Cartesianism. For Cartesianism did not satisfy the conditions necessary to its permanent dominion as a system. In the general movement of things and the progress of time, the spirit of analysis and observation was to have its place ; and it filled the eighteenth century. The spirit of the eighteenth century needs no apology. Its best apology is in its existence. The age is not to be accused of scepticism, because it required observation as the condition of faith. The human race like indi- vidual man lives only by faith ; but at this period observation and experiment became its necessary conditions. But Cartesianism, especially such as it had become in the hands of Malbranche, Spinoza, and Wolf, abandoning observation at the second step and burying itself in ontological hypotheses and scholastic formulas, had no claim to the title of an experimental science. When therefore another system appeared claiming this title, it was un- der this title accepted. This is the secret of the downfall of Car- tesianism and the fortunes of Locke and Condillac. The philoso- phy of Sensation was not admitted as Materialism, but as Experi- mental. To a certain extent it really was a science of experiment and observation. The success of this philosophy was not due to its dogmas, but to its method, which again was due to the spirit of the age. That the experimental method w£is not the work of APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 293 this philosophical sect, but the necessary fruit of time, is evident from the fact that the partizans of an entirely opposite school, who arose to combat the doctrines of Locke, exhibit only another ap. plication of the same method. Reid in Scotland, and Kant in Ger- many, claiming the method of observation, attacked and overthrew the system of Locke.* The different conflicting systems which have sprung up since the time of Bacon, do no discredit to the method of observation. The method is good in itself; it should only be rightly applied. The study of human nature is a real science of observation ; but it is necessary to observe every thing. No other method is neces- sary ; but it should not be corrupted by any system ; it should be applied to all the facts, all the phenomena, whatever they are, provided they exist. Its exactness is in its impartiality and in its completeness. It should exhaust all the facts. Facts are the starting-point of philosophy. But facts, whatever they may be, exist for us only so far as they appear in the consciousness. It is there only that observation can find them, and describe them, before de- livering them to induction to deduce the consequences they contain. The field of philosophical observation is consciousness ; there is no other, but in that it is necessary to observe every thing, for ev- ery thing is important. To fall back upon the mind, to study carefully all its phenomena, their differences and relations, is the first study of philosophy : its scentific name is psychology. Psy- chology is the condition and vestibule of philosophy. f I will here present the reader with two extracts from the work of Cousin before referred to, the Philosophical Fragments. The first is from the " Program of a course of Lectures delivered in 1817." PUL Fragm. p. 228. Division and Classification of Metaphysical Questions, DIVISION. All metaphysical questions are contained in the three following : 1. What are the actual characteristics of human intellections (connaisanceSf knowledges) in the developed intelligence ? 2. What is their origin ? 3. What is their legitimacy or validity ? *Fragmens Philosophiques, Preface, p. 3—5. t Preface to Fragmens Philosophiques. 26 294 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. The questions concerning the actual state and the primitive state of human knowledge, regard it as in the human mind, in the sub- ject where it resides. It is the subjective point of view. The question concerning the validity of human knowledge re- gards it in relation to its objects, that is in an objective point of view. CLASSIFICATION. 1. To treat the actual before the primitive, for in commencing with the primitive we might obtain nothing but an hypothesis, a false primitive, which would give only an hypothetical actual, whose legitimacy would be that of an hypothesis. 2. To treat the actual and the primitive before the legitimate ; for the questions concerning the actual and the primitive pertain to the subjective system, that concerning the legitimate to the ob- jective system, and we cannot know the objective before the sub- jective : in fact it is in the internal, by and with the internal, that we conceive the external. All our objective intellections being facts of consciousness, phe- nomena, we call Psychology or Phenomenology, the science of the subjective, primitive and actual. The study of our objective intellections considered relatively to iheir objects, that is to say to real external existences, is called Ontology. Every thing objective is called transcendental, and the appreciation of the legitimacy of the principles by which we at- tain the objective is called Transcendental Logic. The whole science bears the name of Metaphysics,^^ The other passage is from an " Essay on a classification of phi- losophical questions and schools." Fragm. Phil. p. 295. " When I think of all the questions that have occupied my mind, when I compare them with those that have occupied all phi- losophers, when I interrogate both books and myself, and above all when I consult the nature of the human mind, reason as well as experience, in my view, reduce all the problems of philosophy to a very small number of general problems, whose character is de- termined by the general aspect under which philosophy, and in philosophy, metaphysics, presents itself to my mind. Philosophy, in my opinion, is only the science of human natufre con- sidered in the facts which it gives to our observation. Among these facts there are those which refer more particularly to the intelli- APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 295 gence, and are therefore commonly called mctajphysical. Metaphys- ical facts — the phenomena by which the intelligence displays itself— when reduced to general formulas, constitute intellectual princi- ples. Metaphysics is therefore the study of the intelligence in that of our intellectual principles. Intellectual principles present themselves under two aspects ; either relatively to the intelligence in which they exist, to the sub. ject that possesses them, to the consciousness and reflection which exercises and contemplates them, — or relatively to their objects, that is, no longer as in themselves and in ourselves, but in their consequences and external applications. Every intellectual princi- ple indeed has reference to the human mind ; and at the same time that it refers itself to the human mind as the subject of all know- ledge and all consciousness, it likewise has respect to objects as lying without the mmd that conceives them : or to adopt those cele- brated expressions, so convenient by their conciseness, precision, and force, every intellectual principle is either subjective or objective, or subjective and objective at the same time. There is no principle, no knowledge, no idea, no perception, no sensation, which does not come under this general division, — a division which includes and divides at the outset all the problems of philosophy into two great classes : problems relative to subject, and problems relative to ob- ject ; or to speak more rapidly, subjective problems, and objective problems. Let us unfold this general division, and deduce from it the par- ticular questions it contains. Let us examine first the intellectual principles, independently of the external consequences deducible from them. Let us develope the science of the subjective. This science is that of the internal world. It is the science of the me, a science entirely distinct from that of the objective, which is, properly speaking, the science of the not-me. And this science of the me is not a romance concerning the nature of the soul, its origin, and its end : it is the true history of the soul, written by reflection, at the dictation of consciousness and memory. It is the mind falling back upon itself, and giving to itself the spectacle of itself. It is occupied entirely with internal facts, phenomena per- ceptible and appreciable by consciousness. I call it psychology, or, again, phenomenology, to mark the nature of its objects. Now, in tide ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. spite of the difficulties with which a being, thrown at first, and constantly drawn to the outward by the wants of his sensibility and his reason, has to encounter in the process of reflection, yet this science, entirely subjective as it is, is not above man, not be- yond the reach of human nature. It is certain, for it is immediate. The self J the we, and that with which it is occupied, are both con- tained in the same sphere, in the unity of consciousness. There the object of the science is entirely internal ; it is perceived intui- tively [in immediate apperception,] by the subject. The subject and the object are taken intimately connected, the one with the other. [The subject and the object are the same. The ego, the /, as the subject, constructs itself objectively, as the object to itself; that is, the I, the subject, considers itself, makes itself the object of reflection. — Ep.] All the facts of consciousness are evident by themselves, as soon as consciousness attains them ; but they fre- quently escape its grasp, by their extreme delicacy, or from being enveloped in others foreign to themselves. Psychology gives the most perfect certainty ; but this certainty is found only at a depth which it belongs not to all eyes to penetrate. To arrive there, it is necessary to abstract one's self from the world of extension and figure in which we have lived so long, and whose colors now-a- days tinge all our thoughts and language, though we are so little aware of it. It is necessary also to abstract one's self from the external of being and of the absolute, which is even more difficult to remove than the former ; that is to say, abstract one's self from an integrant part of thought itself, for in all thought there is bemg and the absolute ; and, again, it is necessary to separate and dis- tinguish thought without mutilating it, to disengage the phenomena of consciousness, both from the ontological notions which naturally envelope them, and from the logical forms which, in the developed intelligence, repress and restrain them ; and to do this without fall- ing into mere abstractions. In fine, after having established our position in this world of consciousness, so delicate and fugitive, it is necessary to make a wide and profound review of all the phe- nomena that it comprehends ; for here, phenomena are the ele- ments of science. We must be sure of having omitted no element, otherwise the science will be incomplete. We must be sure of having taken none upon supposition. We must be careful that APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 297 we omit no real element, that we admit no foreign element, and, finally, that we view all the real elements in their true aspect, and in all the aspects which they present. When this preliminary la- bor has put us in possession of all the elements of science, it re- mains to construct the science, by bringing the elements together, by combining them, so as to exhibit them all in the different classes which result from their different characteristics, just as the na- turalist arranges the varieties of the vegetable and mineral world, under a certain number of divisions which comprehend them all. This done, all is not yet done, the science of the subjective is not yet exhausted : the greatest difficulties remain to be overcome. We have recognized the internal world, the phenomena of consciousness, as consciousness at the present time displays them. We know the actual man, but we are still ignorant of primitive man. It is not enough for the human mind to contemplate the analytical inventory of its intellections, arranged under their respective titles. The un- wearied curiosity of man cannot rest in these careful classifications : it goes on after higher problems, which at once daunt and attract it, which charm and defy it. We seem not lawfully to possess present reality, until we have obtained the primitive truth ; and we ascend continually to the origin of our intellections, as to the source of all light. Then the question of the origin of knowledge makes a new question spring up, as difficult, perhaps more diffi- cult. It is the question concerning the relation of the primitive to the actual. It is not enough to know where we now are, and from whence we started ; we must know all the road by which we arrived at the point where we now find ourselves. This third question is the complement of the two others. Here the whole problem is solved, the science of the subjective is truly exhausted ; for when we have the two extreme points and the intermediate space, nothing more remains to ask. Let us now consider the intellectual principles relatively to their external objects. A strange thing is this ! A being perceives and knows, out of his own sphere ; he is nothing but himself, and he knows some- thing besides himself. His own existence is, for himself, nothing but his own individuality ; and from the bosom of this individual 26* 298 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOCY. world which he inhabits, and which he constitutes, he attains to d world foreign to his own, and that, by powers which, altogether internal and personal as they are, in reference to their subject in which they inhere, extend beyond its boundary, and discover to him things lying beyond his reflection and his consciousness. That the mind of man is provided with these wonderful powers, no one can doubt ; but is their reach and application legitimate ? and does that which they reveal really exist ? The intellectual prin- ciples have an incontestible authority in the internal world of the subject; but are they equally valid in reference to their external objects ? This is eminently tbe objective problem. Now, as every thing which lies out of the consciousness is objective, and as all real and substantial existences are external to the consciousness, which is exercised only upon internal phenomena, it follows, that every problem relating to any particular being, or in general implying the question of existence, is an objective problem. Finally, as the problem of the legitimacy of the means we have of knowing the objective, whatever it be, is the problem concerning the legiti- macy of the means we have of knowing in an absolute way, (the absolute being that which is not relative to the me, which re- fers to essence,) it follows, that the problem concerning the legiti- macy, the validity, of all external, objective, and ontological knowledge, is the problem concerning absolute knowledge. The problem concerning the absolute, constitutes the Higher Logic. When we are assured of the validity of our means of knowing in an absolute way, we apply these means to some object, that is, to some particular being ; and we raise the question concerning the reality of the substantial me, of the soul which conceives, but does not perceive itself, and of that extended and figured sub- stance which we call wiatter„ and of that Supreme Being, the last reason of all beings, of all external objects, of the subject itself, likewise, who rises to him, — God. At length, after these problems relative to the existence of dif- ferent particular objects, those come up which pertain to the modes and characteristics of this existence, problems superior to all oth- ers ; since, if it is strange that the intellectual being should know that there are existences out of its own sphere, it is still more APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 299 strange that it should know what passes in spheres beyond its own existence and consciousness. These special researches constitute the Higher Metaphysics^ the science of the objective, of essence, of the invisible ; for all essence, every thing objective, is invisible to the consciousness. Let us resume. The objective problems divide themselves into two great problems, the one logical, the other metaphysical ; namely, 1, the problem of the absolute, the question concerning the reality of the existence of any thing objective ; 2, the ques- tion concerning the reality of different particular objects. Add to these two objective questions the three questions involved in gene- ral question concerning the subjective, and you have all the ques- tions of metaphysics. There is none which will not fall within this general frame-work. We have therefore satisfied the first law of classification. Let us endeavor to satisfy the second, and ascertain the order in which it is proper to examine each question. Let us first consider the two problems which contain all the others, that of the subject, and that of the object. Whether the object exists or not, it is obvious that it exists for us, only as it is manifested to us by the subject ; and if it is main- tained that the subject and the object are actually and primitively given us, the one with the other, it must always be admitted that, in this natural relation, the term which knows, should be consid- ered, as in truth it is, the fundamental element of the relation. It is, therefore, by the subject that we are to commence. It is our- selves we are first to know ; for we know nothing but in ourselves, and by ourselves. It is not ourselves who move round the exter- nal world, it is rather the external world which moves round us ; or if these two spheres have each their proper motions, and are solely correlative, we know it not, except as one of them teaches us. It is thereby, always, that we are to apprehend any thing, even the existence, the independent existence of the other. We are, then, to commence by the subjective, by the me, by the consciousness. But the question concerning the subjective, involves in itself three others. By which of them are we to commence ? In the first place, one of these questions consists in determining the rela- tion of the two others, the relation of the primitive to the actual. 300 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. It is clear that this cannot be treated, until after the two others. It remains to determine the order of the two others. Now a strict method will not hesitate to place the actual before the primitive ; for, by commencing with the primitive, we might obtain only a false primitive, which, in deduction, would give only an hypotheti- cal actual, whose relation to the primitive would be only the rela- tion of two hypotheses, more or less consistent. In commencing with the primitive, if a mistake is made, all is lost ; the science of the subjective is falsified, and then what will become of the objec- tive ? Besides, commencing with the primitive, is to start from one of the most obscure and embarrassing problems, without guide and without light ; whereas, to begin by the actual, is to begin with the easiest question, with the one which serves as the intro- duction to all the others. On every hand, experience and the experimental method has been celebrated as the conquest of the age, and the genius of our epoch. The experimental method, in Psychology, is to begin with the actual, to exhaust it, if it is possi- ble ; to take a strict account of all the principles which now actu- ally govern the intelligence ; to admit only those which actually present themselves, but of those to repel none ; ask none of them from whence they come, or where they go, — it is enough that they are actually present in nature, they must have a place in science.- No arbitrary judgment is to be passed upon facts, no systematic control. We are to be contented to register them, one with the other ; nor are we to be in any haste to torture them, in order to force from them some premature theory. We are to wait patiently, until their number is complete, their relations un- folded, and the theory comes forth of itself. If we pass now from the subjective to the objective, and if we investigate the order of the two questions of which the objective is composed, it is easy to see that the logical question is to be treated before the metaphysical, the problem of the absolute and of existence in general before that of particular existences ; for the solution, whatever it be, of the first problem, is the principle of the second. Here then are the laws of classification satisfied ; the frame- work of philosophy divided and arranged : now who will build and fill it up ? In the first place, has there hitherto been a philosopher who has done this? If there were, there would be a metaphysical science, APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 301 just as there is a geometry and a chemistry. — But have not philoso- phers at least distinguished these different parts, if they have not filled them up ? Have they not sketched the outlines and propor- tions of the edifice, if they have not yet been able to realize it ? If this were the case, there would be a science commenced, a route opened, a method fixed. — But if philosophers have done neither of these, what have they done ? A few words will explain. The first philosophers have treated everything and resolved everything, but it is confusedly ; they have treated everything, but without method, or with arbitrary and artificial methods. There is not a metaphysical problem which has not been agitated in every form and analysed in a thousand ways by the philosophers of Greece, and by the Italian metaphysicians of the sixteenth century ; nevertheless, neither the former, with their wonderful genius, nor the latter, with all their sagacity, could discover or settle the true limits of each problem, their relations and their extent. No phi- losopher previous to Descartes has laid down precisely and dis- tinctly the very first problem of philosophy, the distinction be- tween the subject and the object : this distinction was scarcGiy any thing but a scholastic and grammatical distinction, which the suc- cessors of Aristotle vainly agitated without being able to deduce anything from it but consequences of the same kind as their prin- ciple, grammatical consequences which, passing from grammar into logic and from thence into metaphysics, corrupted intellectual science and filled it with empty verbal arguments. Descartes himself, notwithstanding the force and strictness of his mind, did not penetrate the whole reach of this distinction ; his glory con- sists in having made it and having placed the true starting-point of philosophical investigations in the mind, in the me ; but he was not so much aware as he should have been of the abyss that sepa- rates the subject from the object ; and after having laid down the problem, this great man too rapidly resolves it. — It was reserved for the 18th century to apply and extend the spirit of the Cartesian philosophy, and to produce three schools which, instead of losing themselves in external and objective investigations, began by an examination, more or less strict, more or less profound, of the hu- man mind itself and its faculties. It belonged to the greatest phi- losopher of the last age, by the very title of his own philosophy to mark the characteristic of modern philosophy. The system of 302 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Kant is called the Critical Philosophy (Kritik.) The two other European schools, the one anterior, the other contemporaneous, ,the school of Locke and the school of Reid, are both far below the school of Kant, by the inferioi-ity of their master's genius, and by the inferiority of their doctrines, and both very different from each other in their principles and in their consequences, yet both belong to the school of Kant, and are intimately connected with each other by the spirit of criticism and analysis which recom- mend them. If the analysis of Reid is stricter and more extended than that of Locke, we must not forget that he had the advantage of all the light which the works written in the system of Locke shed upon that system, and we are to beware of injustice towards Locke, who will always be regarded as one of the most moderate and sensible philosophers ; and particularly guard against being unjust to Descartes the founder of the modern philosophy. But much as the three great schools of Europe are allied in the general spirit that animates them, they differ as greatly in their positive principles : and the reason of this difference is the particu- lar point of view under which each of these schools has considered philosophy. All philosophical questions being reducible to three great questions, in regard to the objective, to the question con- cerning the absolute and the reality of existences, in regard to the subjective, to that of the actual, and that of the primitive, the weakness of the human mind, which is seen in the strongest intel- lects, did not permit Locke, and Reid, and Kant to bestow their attention equally upon these three questions. It was directed re- spectively to one. Locke, Reid, and Kant took each a different question ; so that by a fortune sufficiently remarkable, each of the three great questions which make up metaphysics became the spe- cial object and the exclusive possession of one of the three great schools of the 18th century. The school of Locke seeks after the origin of knowledge [the subjective primitive] ; the Scotch school of Reid seeks rather after the actual characteristics which human knowledge presents in the developed intelligence [the subjective ac- timl] ; and the school of Kant is occupied with the legitimacy of the passage from the subjective to the objective [the objective lo- gical — transcendental logic]. Let me explain : I do not mean to say that each of these three schools has taken up but a single problem ; I mean that each of them is more especially occupied APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 303 with a particular problem, and is eminently characterized by the mode in which that problem is resolved. All the world is agreed that Locke has misconceived many of the actual characteristics of human knowledge; Reid does not conceal that the question of their origin is of little importance to him ; and Kant contents him- self with indicating in general the source of human knowledge without investigating the special origin of each of those intellectual principles, those celebrated categories which he established. Now it seems to me that in following this parallel division of the ques- tions and schools of philosophy, the history of philosophy might be viewed under a new aspect. In the three great modern schools we might study the three great philosophical questions ; each of these three schools, partial and incomplete in itself, might be ex- tended and enlarged by the vicinity of the others : opposed, they would reveal their relative imperfections, brought together, they might mutually communicate what each one is defective in. It would be an interesting and instructive spectacle to show the vices of the modern schools by engaging them one with the other, and to bring together their several merits into one vast central Eclec- ticism which should contain and complete all three. The Scotch philosophy would demonstrate the vices of the philosophy of Locke ; Locke would serve to question Keid on subjects which he has too much neglected ; and the examination of the system of Kant would introduce into the depths of a problem which escaped botli the other schools." [Note G, p. 48.— Note H, p. 49.] [These two references were inserted by mistake.] Note I, p. 50. Logical and Chronological order of Knowledge. — At this place Cousin refers the reader to the " Program of a course of Philoso- phy" for 1817, inserted in the Philosophical Fragments » The portion which refers to the logical and chronological order of know- ledge is so brief and general that perhaps it will add but little to what may be thought sufficiently explained in the text. In giving it, however, I have thought best not to separate it from the rest of 304 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. the Program, as that syllabus, though containing only brief sketch- es, and often merely the annunciation, of topics discussed at large in the lectures of which they are the outline, may possibly give the reader some insight into the author's general system of philos- ophy, whereof only a part, and that of course under a particular form, appears in the special criticisms to which the examination of Locke is devoted. I have therefore given this Program entire at the end of the notes, where the reader will find the portion con- cerning the logical and chronological order of knowledge referred to. Note K, p. 62. Royar-Collard, — Origin of the conception of duration. — See Oeuvres completes de Thomas Reid publiees par M. Th. Jouffroy avec des Fragmens de M. Royer-Collard. Paris, 1829. — JoufFray was the pupil of Royer-Collard. To the third and fourth volume of this edition of Reid's works the editor has attached copious extracts and reports of Royer-CoUard's lectures, delivered in 1811 — 1814. — An extended discussion concerning duration may be found in Vol IV. p. 347 — 426. It is too long to be introdu- ced in this place ; a brief view of its results is all that can be given. - The first duration we conceive is, according to Royar-Collard, our own. It is not in the succession of our feelings that our dura- tion consists ; for succession presupposes a duration in which it takes place. — Our duration results from the sentiment of our con- tinued identity which results from the continuity of our activity* attested by consciousness and memory. To act, with conscious- ness and memory of acting is to endure. — Whenever, in the con- sciousness of our own activity and the succession of its acts, we acquire the conception of the duration (our own) in which that succession takes place, it becomes independent of the sentiment of our own identical and continuous existence, which contained it. By occasion of our own duration, we conceive a necessary and illimitable duration, the eternal theatre of all existences and all contingent successions ; and not only do we conceive it, but we are invincibly persuaded of its reality. This passage from the con- ception of time within us to time without us, is made, in the opinion APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 305 of Royer-Collard, by what he calls a natural induction. His view of this point seems unnecessary and burdened with difficulties, the nature of which the reader will apprehend from the criticism of it, by Cousin, as applied to the conception of causality, in the next chapter. — To explain the origin of the conception of Time, it seems to us sufficient to say that when by occasion of experience any particular succession is given, the mind, in virtue of its own activity and by its own laws, forms the necessary and universal conception of time. The primitive succession given in conscious- ness and memory (that is, according to Royer-Collard, the acts of our own will,) furnishing us the notion of time concrete, particular and determinate (our own duration) suffices to supply the condi- tion under which the mind in virtue of its own laws, without re- sorting to the process of induction, but immediately forms the con- ception of duration without us, time absolute, unlimited. Note L, p. 68. The idea of the infinite, — This criticism is unquestionably valid as against Locke'' s reduction of the infinite to number, his confusion of the idea of the infinite with that of the finite, and consequent destruction of the former idea. But there still remains a higher question concerning the positive science of the infinite, which in- volves the possibility of philosophy itself, considered as the posi- tive knowledge of the absolute and infinite, the unconditioned, or viewed as any thing more than the observation and analysis of the phenomena of consciousness. The possibility of philosophy, in this sense of the word, is indeed the grand problem of speculative : inquiry ; the resolution of it, explicit or implied, determines the most general character of the great systems of philosophy. It is a question however which we do not intend here to discuss. We will only remark that the position taken by Cousin on this subject, in his other works, constitutes the chief pretension and systematic peculiarity of his philosophy. It is a position certainly not with- out grave difficulties. Those who desire to get a general view of this subject, will find it in an article on Cousin's Introduction to the History of Philosophy contained in the Edinburgh Review, No, 99, October, 1829. Those who have read that article will proba- bly be reminded, by our author's discussion, of the objection rais- 27 306 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ed by the reviewer against the doctrine of Cousin, namely that the idea of the infinite is purely relative and negative : and per- haps some will consider the remarks made on this point by Cousin, in the text to which this note belongs, as a sufficient answer to the objection. The article to which we allude is certainly very learn- ed and profound, and written with an air of the very highest abili- ty. The writer justly considers the whole doctrine of M. Cousin [i. e. taking philosophy in the sense of positive knowledge of the unconditioned, and as something beyond Psychology, or the mere observation and analysis of the phenomena of consciousness] to be " involved in the proposition that the unconditioned, the absolute, the infinite, is immediately known in consciousness by diflference, plurality, and relation." In explaining the nature of the great problem itself of philosophy, and the character of Cousin's solution of it, he goes on to state that the possible opinions on this subject "maybe reduced to four : — 1. The unconditioned is incognizable and inconceivable ; its notion being only negative of the conditioned, which last can alone be positively known or conceived. 2. It is not an object of knowledge ; but its notion, as a regulative princi- ple of the mind itself, is something more than a mere negation of the conditioned. 3. It is cognizable, but not conceivable ; it can be known by a sinking back into identity with the absolute, but is in- comprehensible by consciousness and reflection, which are only of the relative and the different. 4. It is cognizable and conceivable by consciousness and reflection, under relation, diflerence, and plurality." " The first of these opinions" the r gyiew er adds, " we regard as true ; the second is held by Kant ; the third by Schelling ; and the last by our author (Cousin)." In explaining and supporting the position which he holds as true, the writer says : " thought cannot transcend consciousness ; consciousness is only possible un- der the antithesis of a subject and object of thought, known only in correlation and mutually limiting each other ; while, independ- ently of this, all that we know either of subject or of object, ei- ther of mind or matter, is only a knowledge in each of the partic- ular, the diflferent, of the modified, of the phenomenal. We admit that the consequence of this doctrine is, that philosophy, if viewed as more than a science of the conditioned, is impossible. Depart- ing from the particular, we admit that we can never in our highest APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 307 generalizations, rise above the finite ; that our knowledge, whether of mind or matter, can be nothing more than a knowledge of the relative manifestations of an existence which in itself it is our high- est wisdom to recognize as beyond the reach of philosophy : — cognoscendo ignorari, et ignorando cognoscV^ " The conditioned" he goes on, " is the mean between two extremes, exclusive of each other, neither of which can be conceived as possible, but of which, on the principle of contradiction, one must be admitted as necessa' ry. On this opinion, therefore, reason is shown to be weak, but not deceitful. The mind is not represented as conceiving two propo- sitions subversive of each other as equally possible ; but only as unable to understand as possible either of two extremes : one of which, however, on the ground of their mutual contradiction, it is compelled to recognize as true. We are thus taught the salutary lesson, that the capacity of thought is not to be constituted into the measure of existence ; and are warned from recognizing the do- main of our knowledge as necessarily co-extensive with the hori- zon of our faith. And by a wonderful revelation, we are thus, in the very consciousness of our inability to conceive aught beyond the relative and finite, inspired with a belief in the existence of something unconditioned beyond the sphere of all comprehensible reality." In regard to the doctrine of Cousin, the writer then en- deavors to show : " in the first place that M. Cousin is at fault in all the authorities he quotes in favor of the opinion that the abso- lute, infinite, unconditioned, is a primitive notion, cognizable by the intellect ; in the second, that his argument to prove the co-reality of his three ideas [the finite, the infinite, and their relation] [on the ground that the notion of the one necessaril)^ suggests the con- ception of the other] proves directly the reverse ; in the third, that the conditions under which alone he allows intelligence to be pos- sible, necessarily exclude the possibility of a knowledge of the ab- solute ; and in the fourth, that the absolute, as defined by him, is only a relative and a conditioned." " The unconditioned," he concludes, " is not a positive concep tion ; nor has it even a real or intrinsic unity ; for it only com- bines the absolute and the infinite, contradictory in themselves, in- to a unity relative to us by the negative bond of their inconceiva- bility. It is on this mistake of the relative for the intrinsic, of the negative for the positive, that M. Cousin's theory is founded." 308 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY, Note M, p. 77. Idea of Substance. Royer-Collard, — Fragments of the Lec- tures of M. Royer-Collard published in Jouffroy's edition of the works of Reid, vol. iv. p. 305. On this subject Royer-Collard shows : 1. that we perceive the objects of our external perceptions as qualities, and therefore we conceive them as in a subject in which they co-exist and to which they belong ; that the conception of a subject necessarily accompanies the perception of qualities, but is distinct from it ; the subject is not perceived by the senses, it is conceived by the mind. 2. That the judgment by which we attribute the qualities that are the objects of our perceptions to a subject conceived by the mind, is a primitive judgment, a constitu- ent law of the human understanding. It is the same with regard to this judgment as with that of causality ; it cannot be derived from an anterior principle without pre-assuming the thing in ques- tion. He applies the same positions likewise to spiritual substance, conceived by occasion of observing the phenomena of the mind as qualities. In examining the theory of Locke, and also of Condillac, which resolves substance into the aggregate of qualities, Royer-Collard remarks that a " collection supposes three things : individuals, ob- jects really existing in nature ; a relation of resemblance between the individual things ; the perception of this relation by a mind. What then are the individuals of which in this case the collection is formed ? They are, says Locke, simple ideas obtained by sen. sation and reflection ; they are, says Condillac, in regard to mate- rial substance, the perceptions of magnitude, sohdity, hardness. Thus mind is a collection of sensations, of perceptions, of recol- lections ; body is a collection of magnitude, solidity, hardness. I beg pardon of Locke and Condillac ; the affections and opera- tions of mind, on one hand, the qualities of matter, on the other, are not real and individual things, but pure abstractions which we form by separating in thought what is never separated in nature, namely, that which perceives from that which is perceived, the act of thought from that which thinks, solidity from the solid thing, &c. But if the elements of the collections, the aggregate, into which they pretend to resolve substances, are nothing but abstractions, sub- stances themselves are nothing but collections of abstractions ; there APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 309 are no substances in nature, neither minds nor bodies. This is enough. But let us go on. The second condition of a collection, is, that there should be some relation of resemblance between the individuals which compose it. But what relation is there, for example, between extension and im- penetrability ? No other is, or can be, assigned, but that of co- existence in place. In the first place, co-existence in place is not an analogy, and not a single instance of an aggregate conceived by the human mind upon this ground alone, can be cited. More- over, co-existence in place supposes place and the notion of place. From whence is this notion gotten ? What is place ? The rela- tion in question is co-existence in place ; place is, then, anterior to this relation. Is it itself a relation? But what is co-existence in a relation ? Is it a quality ? Let it be added to the collection, and then let the mode of co-existence be pointed out. Is it some- thing real ? It was not worth the while to deny reality to body, and give it to place. But let us pass over co-existence and place ; our thoughts have no place, and they do not co-exist ; they are successive, and there is no succession but in a relation of number. Our minds then are collections purely numerical, additions which begin with life and end with death. The total varies at every moment of our duration, and as we consist solely of this total, we are not, any two moments of our duration, one and the same ; self is not determined until the end of the addition. This is not all ; we had in the former case a mind to form the collection of the qualities of matter ; but who is to make the collection of our thoughts, since the mind is nothing but that collection itself ? We must therefore have another mind to perform the operation, or else the addition, the aggregate, which constitutes ourselves, is made and reckoned up of itself. Finally : the third condition of a collection is, that the relations of resemblance should be perceived by the mind. It is the mind in fact which creates the collection ; it is in vain that things have more or less resemblance, — in vain that they co-exist in time and in place ; they remain individual and isolated for the mind, as they are in nature, until the mind perceives and seizes their dif- ferent relations. The cpllection results from the perception of these relations. A collection is therefore one or several general ideas. But general ideas have this peculiar character, that their 27* 310 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. object has no real existence, and the reahty of the ideas themselves consists solely in their being acts of the mind. If therefore sub- stances are collections of simple qualities, they are nothing more than acts of our minds, and those acts whose objects do not really exist in nature. Here returns the difficulty again. In commen- cing with the collection of the qualities of matter, we know where to place the collection ; the mind is still there to conceive it ; but where shall we place the collection of the operations of the rtdnd 7 This discussion might be prolonged much farther ; and at every step monstrous absurdities might be deduced from the theory of Locke. But I close with this remark : there is nothing we know better than our general ideas ; it is we ourselves who made them ; they are precisely such as we make them, and they contain noth- ing but what we have placed in them. If then our ideas of sub- stance, spiritual and material, are nothing but general ideas, they must be as clear as our other general ideas, e. g. the idea of a tree, and as easy to decompose and to reconstruct again. How is it then, that we hear [in Locke and the Sensual School] such fre- quent complaints against the idea of substance as obscure ; and that they in some places make this obscurity a reason for denying substance?" (Euvres de Reid, Tom. iv. p. 317 — 320. Note N, p. 85. Hume, — Kant. — See Hume's Essays on the Human Under- standing, Essay 7th. Hume's philosophical genius was of a very superior order. Justice was never done to it by his cotemporaries, nor has it since been done in the general estimation of the English. In logical force, acuteness, and at the same time clearness and el- egance of mind, he had few equals. His [philosophical] scepticism was the consistent result of the principles at that time almost uni- versally adopted. The difference between himself and his cotem- poraries and opposers, was only that he was more acute and con- sequent than they. In the first place, he clearly and fully estab- lished the essential difference of the notions of succession and causation, notions which Locke' had confounded for the sake of his system, and which every body continued to confound. Hume showed that the conception of cause, and of the relation of cause and APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 311 effect, could not be resolved into, or explained by, the notion of succession : they were two distinct and different conceptions. 2. He proved, beyond contradiction, that the idea of cause and effect is not derived from experience, either external or internal, from sensation or from reflection; but, 3.y He still continued to hold, ^ and seems not to have suspected the questionableness of, the I grounding principle of Locke's system, that all our real knowledge J must be derived from experience. Hence, 4. He was consistently led to deny the truth, the objective reality of the relation of cause and effect. He therefore explained it as a delusion of the imagi- nation, the result of association and habit ; as a very useful idea, having a subjective necessity and reality, (being held, that is by us, as true,) but having no objective reality, no reality but to us. Thus, Hume, for want of elucidation on the third point, remained a sceptic. His opponents, Beattie, Oswald, and Priestley, were entirely unable to shed any light upon the subject ; for they equally failed in perceiving the point to which criticism should have been directe,dr~x But KanVstruck with the truth and profoundness of Hume's analysis and discrimination of the ideas of succession and cause, and the impossibility of deriving the latter from experience, was led directly to question the grounding principle of Locke's system, and thus to discern a way of avoiding the sceptical conclusion of Hume, and establishing the objective reality of the relation. Upon investigation, he perceived that the idea of cause and ef- fect was not the only one that is applied to experience, with the consciousness of its necessity, yet without being derived from ex- perience. Hence, the very first position of his Critique of Pure Reason is, that we are in possession of knowledge, a priori ; and the first sentence of his work contains the annunciation of the important distinction, that although all our knowledge begins with] experience, yet it is not therefore all derived from experience. Note O, p. 95. See Laromiguiere's Lecons de Philosophie, and also M. de Bi- ran's Examen des Leqons de M, Laromiguiere, Ch. 8, p. 140 — 152. 312 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Note P, p. 95. See Examen, p. 109, 110 — 151 ; also, M. de Biran's Article Leibnitz, p. 15, in the Biographie Universelle, torn. 23 ; also, the Fragments of Royer CoUard, in JoufFroy's (Euvres de Reid, torn. 3 and 4. Note Q, p. 102. For illustration, you may suppose a hundred revolutions of a wheel in a hundred minutes. You can then vary the two terms (100 rev.:=:100 min.) in any way you pleeise : e. g., varying the second term, you may suppose the hundred revolutions to take place in five, ten, or a thousand minutes (100 rev.=5 min., 100 rev.=:10 min., 100 rev. =1000 min.) ; or, varying the Jirst term, you can suppose five revolutions, or ten, or a thousand, made in the hundred minutes ; or, varying both terms, sixty revolutions made in sixty seconds, &c. But the relation of this succession of revolutions to time, to some measure of time, is not variable. You cannot conceive of these revolutions as made in no time, or apart from the consideration of any time : it is impossible, it is contra- dictory. Note R, p. 103. Concrete numbers have reference to particular determinate ob- jects or thuigs, and are not taken apart from the notion of some particular objects ; as, six balls, and ten balls, and two balls, are equal to eighteen balls. The numbers here are concrete. But when we say, six, and ten, and two, are equal to eighteen, (O-flO +2=18,) the numbers are discrete. Note S, p. 107. Cause and Effect. Brown. — It will be perceived that the dis- cussion of Cousin on this subject, is a substantial refutation of the leading positions of Brown in his Essay on Cause and Effect. — Brown defines the relation of cause and effect, by « immediate and invariable antecedence and consequence." A cause is nothing APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 313 more than "an immediate and invariable antecedent." This is only another form of resolving the idea of causation into succes- sion. In the criticism of Brown's theory, the epithets " immediate and invariable," may and should be thrown off. The sole proper question is, whether antecedence and causation are the same idea. Otherwise, the only possible difference of the two ideas is pre- sumed to consist, not in kind, but in degree. But if the ideas of mere antecedence and of causation can be shown to be essentially different, then no addition of the epithets " immediate and invaria- ble" can elevate or change the idea of antecedent into that of cause. Brown is therefore bound to maintain the identity, in kind, of the idea of antecedence simply, with the idea of cause. But this is a position contradicted by consciousness, by the usage of all languages, by every thing to which the decision of the question can be referred. The universality and necessity of the idea of cause, prove the contrary of Brown's position ; and announce in the notion of cause and effect, a higher than a merely empirical character, — give it a pure, original character. It must, therefore, be regarded as a IaAW of the mind, (considered as the faculty of knowing,) that we should refer things, so far as they are objects of knowledge for us, i. e., are phenomena of our percep- tion, to one another in such a manner that the one determines the other, in respect to its essence and existence. Consequently, we must suppose an objective connection between them, answering to the subjective connection, or concatenation of phenomena in our minds. If now the question be asked, how Brown came to confound antecedence and causation, the answer is not difficult. It arose from confounding the phenomenal with the pure, — phenomena with the original action of the mind, — the occasion, the condition of an idea, with the idea itself. It is undoubtedly true, that the perception of some change, an- tecedence, succession, is the occasion and condition of the mind's forming the notion of cause, or of the evolution in the mind, of the principle of causality : that every phenomenon has a cause. Still, the perception of a single change is sufficient for the de- velopement, in the mind, of this universal and necessary convic- tion. Consequently, Brown's epithets, " immediate and invariable," have no application in explaining the origin of the simple idea of 314 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. cause ; but only apply to the use of the principle of causality in experience ; — to the determination of the cause of a phenomenon for which the mind necessarily supposes a cause, even upon ih.Q first perception of it, and without any successive observations of " im- mediate and invariable antecedence." A single experience is suf- ficient to awaken the principle of causality, which is thenceforward of universal and necessary application, by the mind, to all phe- nomena. But in the application of this principle to particular phe- nomena, the mind may err. Several or many experiences may be necessary, in order to determine what is the precise cause of a given phenomenon. And here it is that the consideration of the immediateness and invariableness of a particular sequence comes in as the result of experience, as that which is phenomenal, and determines us to the application of the idea of cause, to the partic- ular antecedent in question. This distinction Brown seems to have failed to perceive : indeed, he seems to have had no distinct idea of the principle of causality ; and every thing of plausible and of true in his analysis of the no- tion of cause into that of" immediate and invariable antecedence," applies merely to the ulterior question concerning the cause in a given phenomenon, or the application of the necessary idea of cause and the principle of causality to particular phenomena. But the truth is, that, in regard to any particular instance of causation, while the " immediate and invariable antecedence" is all that is phenomenal, all that we observe, it is not all that we be- lieve. It is the signal, the occasion, for the mind forming the idea and belief of something more and different, in regard to the given immediate and invariable antecedent, namely, that it is the cause. And this latter idea is discriminated from the other, by its charac- ter of necessity. The necessary is revealed to the mind in the phenomenal and contingent. Brown's whole argument — its falseness and its plausibility — may be explained by the simple statement, that when the concep- tion of " immediate and invariable antecedence" is presented to the mind, then also, in virtue of the mind's own law of action, the idea and belief of a cause necessarily springs up, and connects itself with the former notion. Hence, the confusion of the two con- ceptions, unperceived by him, as also by many others to whom his analysis appears satisfactory. APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 315 Note T, p. 114. Reference is here made to a discussion of the doctrine of Epi- curus concerning virtue, page 297 of the first volume of this course. In the example as there given, there is however a very material element included, which is here omitted, the supposition, namely, that there is no future life. To the argument as here given, it might be objected, that, on the hypothesis of a future existence, the man who sacrifices his life upon the scaffold for the cause of truth, may make a very prudent calculation for his best interest. Still, the position that prudence is not the essence of virtue, (though virtue may be prudent,) and that what mankind admire in an act of virtue, is something more than the sagacious calculation of the agent for his interest, is unquestionable. Note U, p. 115. Moral Principles. — In his Program of a Course of Philosophy, y) r) Cousin classes the moral principles under the two general divi- sions off contingent miil necessary principlesj\ the former of which, he observe^^re not inlacTprincIpTes, properly speaking, but sen- timents, emotions, general indeed, but contingent and variable. They are referable to the two general moral instincts, — Expansion and Concentration. Contingent Moral Principles. The general principles which refer to the instinct of expansion, constitute what may be called the morality of sentiment, variable, and not obligatory. — The morality of pity, of sympathy, of benev- olence, considered merely as sentiment or emotion. The general principles which refer to the instinct of concentra- tion, or self-love, constitute the morality of self-interest, variable, and not obligatory. Fundamental principle of the morality of self-interest, in regard to an action to be performed : look only at its consequences relative to personal happiness. The most important general principles which form the morality of self-interest : Do right, abstain from wrong, from hope or fear of the rewards pr penalties of civil society ; — 316 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Do right abstain from wrong, fitmi hope or fear of divine re- wards or punishments ; Do right, abstain from wrong, from fear of blame from others, and even of remorse, and in order to gain the pleasure of a good cp Tfi schemes are determined, according as the one or the other of the T? t3 terms is placed as the original and genetic. Is the object educed from the subject, Idealism ; is the subject educed from the object, ;1^~^ ^ Materialism^ is the result. — 5. Again, is the consciousness itself wfij". recognised only as a phenomenon, and the substantial reality of kt'^ both subject and object denied, the issue is Niliilism, ^^ i^ " 6. These systems are all conclusions from an original inter- ^^ '^pretation of consciousness in perception, carried intrepidly forth to (j^ ^ its legitimate issue. But there is one scheme which, violating the ^w a^ integrity of this fact, and, with the idealist, regarding the object of ^<*^ . consciousness in perception as only a modification of the percipient J/^ ■ • subject, endeavors, however, to stop short of the negation of an >i^*^ external world, the reality of which, and the knowledge of whose ^"^^ reality, it seeks to establish and explain by various hypotheses..*»«.^^- This scheme, which we would term Hypothetical Realism or Hyp[- ^gji^ pothetical Dualism^ although the most inconsequent of all systerrt^vviv*^ has been embraced, under various forms, by the immense majo/ity^^<^'*«-*Tji of philosophers." All the possible forms of Hypothetical Rea)ism,^^^^^H, or the representative theory, are reducible, in the opinion of the^ ^*^ writer, to three, and these have all been actually maintain^. ^ ^'^ 1. The representative object not a modification ofmind^ /^ d**^ 2. The representative object a modification of mind, dependantfor ^^^ ^ < its knowledge, but not for its existence, on the act of consciousness, *><-«rr^ 3. The representative object a modification of mind, non-existent '] ^^*^ (Mt of consciousness ; — the idea and its perception only different^ i-^-* ^ relations of an act (state) really identical, A^^< Of the six possible systems above given, it is then shown that ^^ ^^ Reid held the first, that of natural realism ; while Dr. Brown held ^'"'^■^ the last, that oHiypothetical realism ; and of its three forms, adop- '/^*^* ted the third. The writer fully makes out his case, " that Brown's ^f-*^ ^^ interpretation of the fundamental tenet of Reid'd philosophy, is not ^^^ a simple misconception, but an absolute reversal of its real and 4^"^'** - 1 even unambiguous import, — and is without a parallel in the whole ll^ » history of philosophy." The writer goes on to demonstrate Brown's inadequate concep- tion of the problem in question, his ignorance of the history of opinions on the subject, and his remarkable misconception of the 324 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. very writers whom he criticises. In regard to the latter point, among other'philosophers Locke is mentioned ; and it is principally for the sake of adducing the passage in regard to Locke's theory of perception, that we have introduced this note. " Supposing always that ideas were held to be something dis- tinct from their cognition, Reid states it as that philosopher's opin- ion, [Locke's,] that images of external objects were conveyed to the brain ; but whether he thought with Descartes" [lege omnino Dr. Clarke,] " and Newton, that the images in the brain are per- ceived by the mind there present, or that they are imprinted on the mind itself, is not so evident." This, Dr. Brown, nor is he original in the assertion, pronounces a flagrant misrepresentation. Not only does he maintain that Locke never conceived the idea to be substantially different from the mind, as a material image in the brain, but that he never supposed it to have an existence apart from the mental energy of which it is the object. Locke, he as- serts, like Arnauld, considered the idea perceived, and the percipi- ent act, to constitute the same indivisible modification of the con- scious mind. We shall see. " In his language, Locke is, of all philosophers, the most figura- tive, ambiguous, vacillating, various, and even contradictory, as has been noticed by Reid, and Stewart, and Bro^vn himself; in- deed, we believe by every author who has had occasion to com- ment on' this philosopher. The opinions of such a writer are not therefore to be assumed from isolated and casual expressions which themselves require to be interpreted on the general analogy of his system ; and yet, this is the only ground on which Dr. Brown attempts to establish his conclusions. Thus, on the matter under discussion, though really distinguishing, Locke verbally confounds the objects of sense and of intellect, — the operation and its object, — ^the object immediate and mediate, — ^the object and its relations, — ^the images of fancy and the notions of understanding. Con- sciousness is converted with Perception, — Perception with Idea, — Idea with the Object of Perception, and with Notion, Conception, Phantasm, Representation, Sense, Meaning, &c. Now, his lan- guage, identifying ideas and perceptions, appears conformable to a disciple of Arnauld ; and now, it proclaims him a follower of Dig- by,— explaining ideas by mechanical impulse, and the propagation of material particles from the external reahty to the brain. In APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 325 one passage, the idea would seem an organic affection, — the mere occasion of a spiritual representation ; in another, a representative image in the brain itself. In employing thus indifferently the language of every hypothesis, may we not suspect that he was anxious to be made responsible for none ? One, however, he has formally rejected, and that is the very opinion attributed to him by Dr. Brown, — that the idea or object of consciousness in per^ ception, is only a modification of the mind itself." A passage is then quoted from Locke's Examination of Malle- hranche's Opinion, published subsequently to his Essay, expressly establishing this assertion. It is too long to give here. The re- viewer concludes : " If it be thus evident that Locke held neither the third form of representation, — that lent to him by Brown, — ^i^or even the second ; it follows that Reid did him any thing but injus- tice, in supposing him to maintain that ideas are objects either in the brain, or in the mind itself. Even the more material of these alternatives has been the one generally attributed to him by his critics, and the one adopted from him by his disciples. Nor is this to be deemed an opinion too monstrous to be entertained by so enlightened a philosopher. It was, as we shall see, the com- mon opinion of the age, — the opinion, in particular, held by the most illustrious of his countrymen and cotemporaries, — by New- ton, Clarke, Willis, Hook, &c." Note BB, p. 184. Innate Ideas, — The whole system of Locke is built upon a con- fusion of ideas. The comprehending sophism from which it de- rives all its plausibility, is the mistaking the conditions of a thing for its causes and essence. The exhaustion of the air from a re- ceiver, is the condition of the falling in equal time, of a guinea and a feather ; but gravitation is the catise of the phenomenon. To any one to whom this distinction is clear, and who will apply it to the discussion concerning innate ideas in Locke's first book, it caunot but appear surprising that he should ever have gravely instituted such apolemique, or that it should ever have gained such celebrity. This has, we trust, been rendered sufficiently evident from the discussions of this work, and particularly in the first chapters, where the distinction between the logical and chronologi- azC ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. cal order of knowledge is unfolded and applied. " The first book of Locke's Essay," says Coleridge, "(if the supposed error which it la- bors to subvert, be not a mere thing of straw, an absurdity which no man ever did or ever could believe.) is formed on a sole and cause. In this view, Edwards' famous redmctio ad a kuu ' dmm fidls to pieces. £Us argument is, that if a given Yolition be not deteraoined by motiyes as its cause, it must be without a came ; cht dse it must be determined by a previous vofittoa, and that by another, and so on, ad tt^autaau But deny fak iufiare iioe ; lay your finger upon the given volitiQn, or upon any one in the series, and call upoo him to prove that the general fiftcohy of willing is not a pow«r adequate to the direct production of the given volition^ — and his reduction is at an aid, at all events, slopped, till he fulfil the demand. But what, after all, is this pretended denial of causation charged upoo the doctrine (^ free will ? So entirdy the leveise ci the iatt, is the asaon^itiQn made in the otijection, that without the very libeity ^Hiich necessanans deny, there would be no true causes. It is this alone which gives as the true notion cleanse. It is pre> ciaely because the free agent determines himself and is not d^er- mined, that be really produces an ^ect« There is another objectkn made in the interest of Theology, and which, at the present day, attaches many to the doctrine <^ B f U Ksri i y : that the doctrine rf liberty eomtradkts dwme prescience, mod certaintf m ike moraJ g ov e rnme nt of the worid. This olyectian is as old as Gcem, to go no fimher back, and may be vdl enough presented in his woids. «If the will is £ree, then Fate does not rule every thing ; if Fate does not rule every things dien tiie ofder of all causes is not certain, and the order of is no longer certain in tiie prescknce of God ; if the order APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 339 of things is not certain in the prescience of God, then things will not take place as he foresees them ; and if things do not take place as he foresees them, there is in God no foreknowledge." St. Augustine may supply the answer : " Although the order of causes be certain to God, it does not follow that nothing depends upon our will ; for our wills themselves are in the order of causes which are certain to God, and which he foresees, because men's wills are also the causes of their actions ; so that he who has fore- seen all causes, has also foreseen our wills which are the causes of our actions."* " If God foresees our will," says the same wri- ter in another place, {De libera arUtrio, lib, iii. c. 3,) " as it is certain t^at he foresees it, there will therefore be the will ; and there cannot be a will if it is not free ; therefore this liberty is foreseen by God. Hence, his prescience does not destroy my liberty." The answer is certainly as good as the objection. In short, as the knowledge which we have of present things, so far forth as knowledge imposes no necessity upon them, although it is certain that they are taking place as we see them ; so the prescience of God, which sees the future as the present, imposes no necessity upon future events or actions, although they will cer-' tainly take place as he foresaw them. Note LL, p. 263. [Inserted by mistake.] Note MM, p. 269. Descartes, who presented it in the 17th century, under a form at once the most rigid and the most paradoxical, believed he had created it ; but he owed it, without any doubt, to his previous stu- dies, to scholastic tradition, and to St. Aiiselm. — St. Anselm was born in 1034, died 1109. His two most important works are, 1, * Non est autem consequens, lit si Deo cert us est omnium ordo causarum, ideo nihil sit in nostrae voluntatis arbitrio. Et ipsae, quippe, nostrae voluntates in cau- sarum ordine sunt, qui certus est Deo, ejut>que prspscientia continetur, quoniam et humane voluntates humanorum operum causae sunt. Atque ita, qui omnes rerum causas praescivit, profecto in iis causas etiam nostras voluntates ignorare non potuit, quas nostrorum operum causas esse praescivit. — August in. De Civitate Dei, V, 9. 340 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. his Monologium, sen exemplum meditandi de ratione Jidei. His method in this work consists in deducing all theological truths from a single point, — the essence of God. — The difference and plurality of the beautiful, the grand, the good, suppose a common measure, an ideal One of beauty, goodness, &;c., a unity who is the essence of all beauty, goodness, &c. It must exist, for it is this which is the necessary form of every thing which exists. — The unity is anterior to the plurality, and is its root. Est, ergo, dliquid unum, quod, sive essentia, sive natura, sive substantia, did- tur, optimum et maximum est, et summum omnium quce sunt. This unity is God : from hence St. Anselm deduces the whole system of theology. — 2. The second work is entitled Proslogium, seufdes qucerens intellectum. The name of St. Anselm is attached to the argument which, solely from the idea of God, deduces the demon- stration of his existence, — an argument which has experienced many changes of fortune. It was much derided in the 18th cen- tury, but in the 17th it was regarded as invincible. The Proslo- gium consists of twenty-six short chapters, and has for its motto this passage of Scripture, The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God. The argument is this : the most hardened Atheist has in his mind the idea of a highest good, beyond which he can con- ceive no other. Now this supreme good cannot exist solely in thought^ for a still greater would then be possible to conceive ; it must therefore exist out of the human mind ; therefore God ex- ists. — Without quoting St. Anselm, or the Proslogium, with which he was perhaps unacquainted, Descartes has reproduced this ar- gument in his Meditations, Leibnitz has also brought forward the same argument under a form at once the most simple and pre- cise. He refers the honor of it to St. Anselm. — See Cousin's Cours de VHistoire de la Philosophie, Tom. I. p. 346 — 348. Note NN, p. 270. The following passage from the Noveaux Fragmens, Art. Xen- ophanes, may be interesting. " The Ionian and Pythagorean schools have introduced into Greek philosophy the two fundamental elements of all philosophy, namely, Physics and Theology. Thus we see philosophy in Greece in possession of the two ideas, upon which it altogether APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 341 proceeds, — ^the idea of the world, and that of God. The two ex- treme terms of all speculation being thus given, nothing remains but to find their relation. Now the solution which first presents itself to the human mind, preoccupied as it necessarily is with the idea of unity, is to absorb one of these two terms into the other, — to identify the world with God, or God with the world ; and thus to cut the knot instead of untying it. These two exclusive solu- tions are both very natural. It is natural, when we feel the sen- timent of life, and of that existence so diversified and so vast, of which we form a part ; when we consider the extent of this visible world, and at the same tifne the harmony which reigns throughout, and the beauty which shines in every part, to pause where the senses and imagination are arrested, and to suppose that the beings of which this world is composed, are the only existences, that this great whole, so harmonious and so one, is the true subject and ul- timate apphcation of the idea of unity ; in one word, that this whole, the universe, is God. Express this result in the Greek language, and you have Pantheism. Pantheism is the conception of the universe as the sole God. — On the other hand, when we discover that the apparent unity of the universe is only a harmony, and not an absolute unity, a harmony that admits an infinite vari- ety, that strongly resembles a perpetual conflict and revolution, it is not less natural, in this point of view, to detach the idea of unity, which is indestructible within us, from the world ; and, thus sepa- rated from the imperftct model of the visible world, to refer it to an invisible being placed above and beyond the world, — the sa- cred type of absolute unity, beyond which there is nothing to be conceived or sought after. Now when once we have arrived at the absolute unity, it is not easy to pass from it, and to compre- hend how, the absolute unity being given as the principle, it is possible to arrive at the plurality as its consequence ; for absolute unity excludes all plurality. Nothing remains, then, relatively to this consequence, but to deny, or at least to overlook it, — and to regard the plurality of this visible world as the unreal and delusive shadow of the absolute unity, which alone has existence, as a fall scarcely comprehensible, a negation and evil from which it is ne- cessary to get free, in order to tend perpetually towards the only true being, the absolute unity, towards God. This system is the opposite of Pantheism. Give it any name you please, it is nothing 30 342 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. else than the idea of unity appHed exclusively to God, as Panthe- ism is the same idea applied exclusively to the world. Now, to repeat once more, these two exclusive solutions of the fundamental problem are each equally natural, and this is so true, that they perpetually come up in all the great epochs of the history of phi- losophy ; with modifications, however, due to the progress of time, but at the bottom always the same ; so that it may be said with truth, that the history of their perpetual conflict and the alternate domination of one or the other, has been hitherto the history of philosophy itself. This is because these two solutions are inti- mately connected with the human mind, which perpetually repro- duces them, with an equal inability to disconnect itself from the one or the other, and be at rest. In effect, neither of them, taken singly, satisfies the human mind ; and these two opposite points of view, so natural, and consequently having so much the quality of continual existence and recurrence, exclusive as they respec- tively are of each other, are, for this reason, equally defective and insufficient. * * * On both hands, equal error and equal danger, equal forgetfulness of human nature, equal forgetfulness of one essential side of the human mind, and of things. Between these two abysses, long has the good sense of the human race kept its way ; far from schools and systems, the human race has long believed with equal certainty in God and in the world." — Noveaux Fragmens Philo- sophiques, p. 69 — 73. Note OO, p. 276. Sankhyra of Kapila. — See Cousin's Cours de VHistoire de la Philosophie, Vol. L Sect. 5. The sources from which Cousin principally drew, are the Memoirs of Colebrooke, published in the Transactions of the London Asiatic Society, from 1824 to 1827. — The Sankhyra is an oriental system, embracing physics, psychol- ogy, dialectics, and metaphysics, — in short, a complete philosophy. The meaning of Sankhyra is ^oyoi, reason. Its author is Kapila. It is a system of Sensualism : starting from sensation as the prin- ciple of knowledge, and applying induction only to its phenomena, it results in materialism. Denying also the idea of cause, it comes out to fatalism and to atheism. Nor is this latter consequence APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 343 disguised. Kapila denies the existence of a personal God and of Providence, on the ground, that not being perceivable by the sen- ses, nor deducible from sensation by induction, there is no legiti- mate ground for these truths. Intelligence is admitted ; but only as an attribute of matter, and the God of Kapila is a sort of anima mundi, or soul of the world. IDEA OF A SYSTEM OF METAPHYSICS. [Program of a Course of Philosophy given ia 1817.— From the Fragment PhihaO' phiques, p. 230.] System of the Subjective. — Psychology or Phenomenology. Of "the Actual and of the Primitive. Of the Actual. Of the psychological method, or of internal observation. Of the division and classification of human cognitions, according to the distinction of their actual characteristics. Vices of many of the classifications. True classification : dis- tinction of human cognitions, according to their characteristics of contingence or of necessity. Theory of contingent principles. It is necessary to range un- der the class of contingent principles, those principles which force belief, though without implying a contradiction, [in the denial of them,] and which are therefore not necessary, but irresistible, nat- ural beliefs, actual and primitive, instinctive ; such as the belief in the stability of the laws of nature, the perception of extension, &c., &c. Theory of principles truly contingent, neither necessary nor irresistible, but solely general. System of Empiricism ; of analysis, and its office. Refutation of Empiricism beyond the limits of the contingent. Theory of necessary principles. Of the characteristics which accompany that of necessity. That every necessary principle is a synthesis. Of synthesis opposed to analysis, and distinguished from identity. Questions concerning the enumeration of necessary judgments. Difficulty of the enumeration. That it has not been attempted by any philosopher before the 18th century. Leibnitz and Male- branche distinguish necessary truths from contingent truths, but without describing nor counting them. 30* 346 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Historical Part. CRITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. Reid and Kant, Exposition of the doctiine of Reid, concerning necessary truths or first principles. Constituent laws of the human mind. By his own admission, Reid has not exhausted them. Kant. Exposition of the Kantian necessary principles: the forms of the sensibility^ the categories of the Understanding and of the Reason, A complete list is not attempted in this course, but the attempt is made to describe with exactness the actual characteristics of the following principles : Principle of substance thus announced : every quality supposes a subject, a real being. Principle of unity : all plurality supposes unity. Principle of causality ; every thing which begins to exist, has a cause. Principle of final causes : every means supposes an end. Of the Primitive. Of the order of the deduction of human cognitions, and of the order of^their acquisition; of the rational or logical order, and of the chronological or psychological order. A knowledge is anterior to another in the logical order, in as far as it authorizes the other ; it is then its logical antecedent. A knowledge is anterior to another, in the psychological order, in as far as it springs up before the other in the human mind ; it is then its psychological antecedent. Hence the two-fold sense of the word primitive ; a knowledge may be primitive either logically, or psychologically. This being laid down, we are to examine whether our actual cognitions, both contingent and necessary, are primitive, either lo- gically or psychologically ; and if they are not, to ascertain the antecedents, logical or psychological, which they suppose. APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 347 The Logical Primitive. Contingent empirical judgments have a logical primitive ; the certainty of a general principle rests upon that of the determinate individual facts of which it is the generalization. On the contrary, contingent, wo^eT/ipirxcaZ judgments, and neces- sary judgments, have not, and cannot have a logical antecedent ; no individual fact being sufficient to ground either the nei or the irresistible. J^^^ Llfijj^ V^ Ot TUB ^ Psychological Primitive, ff TJ TTTTT'EJlSi'] Both orders of contingent general judgmentsli6^fcjW|nr fmnj ^\i chological primitive in a determinate individual fact. ^^^^s^i. ^__r Necessary judgments have also their determinate individual psy. chological primitive; for nothing is originally given us under a pure and universal type ; but every primitive is individual and de- terminate ; now, every psychological primitive being a determin- ate individual fact, and every individual fact being a fact of the self, it is in the self, that is, in the modifications and individual determin- ations of the self, perceived by consciousness, that we find the psy- chological origin of all our knowledge. The self, the centre of the sphere of intelligence. But there is this difference between the primitive of an empiric- al contingent principle, and that of a necessary principle, — that the one has need of new individual determinate facts, more or less similar, and never identical — since they are all individual and deter- minate, in order to engender the contingent general principle, which is nothing else than the comparative result of a certain number of individual differences ; — while, to engender the necessary princi- ple, the determinate individual fact, which serves as its psycholo- gical antecedent, has no need of new facts, but already contains the principle whole and entire. In a word, contingent principles have their psychological primitive, the multiple in a succession of individual facts compared. Necessary principles have their psychological primitive in a single determinate fact. The knot of the difficulty and of the apparent contradiction which here presents itself, is in this truth, the basis of the intellec- tual system, to wit, that every individual fact is a concrete, com- posed of two parts, of which the first is eminently individual and S48 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. determined in itself; and the second, individual and determinate in its contact with the first, is nevertheless considered in itself, nei- ther individual nor determinate. Example. The energy of my will produces an internal movement* which it is not necessary here to describe with precision. This fact, individual and determinate in its totality, resolves it- self finally into two elements very distinct : first, an individual determinate will, that of myself; an individual determinate move- ment whose intensity is in proportion to that of the will and de- pends upon it ; — second, a relation of the movement produced, to the producing will. The first part of this fact, which embraces the determinateness of the effect and the cause, is personal and relative to the self; it varies with its two terms. It is the empirical part of the fact. When comparative abstraction collects under one point of view the successive differences of this empirical part, it composes from them a general idea, and the possibility for us of now applying this gen- eral idea to a certain number of particular cases, constitutes the actual contingent knowledge which we call a contingent general principle. But the second part of the fact, that is to say, the relation of such or such a determinate cause to such or such a determinate ef- fect, although individualized in the former part, is yet distinct from it. Vary the terms, the relation remains the same. Abstract all the individuality of the cause and of the effect ; yet the relation of cause and effect remains in the mind. This second part of the fact is the absolute part of it. Now, the moment the concrete and individual appear in my con- sciousness, I am not free to make or not to make an abstraction of its individuality ; this abstraction is made necessarily and inde- pendently of my will, and I have the notion of the relation of cause to effect, f * Movement, taken metaphorically, without relation to place, a working, internal effect, here of the will , and= volition. — Tr. t By the necessity of my intellectual structure, as a relation independent of that particular movement or phenomenon of consciousness, by occasion of which the APPENDIX TO COUSIN.ON LOCKE. S49 This relation, which was contingent in the concrete, because it was attached to a determinate and therefore contingent cause and effect, is no sooner separated by abstraction from that concrete, than it appears to me absolute and necessary. As soon as I have the notion of the necessary relation of cause to effect, I have the actual necessary knowledge that : every fact which begins to exist has a cause, I have the principle of causal- ity, which is nothing else than the impossibility of not applying to all possible cases the notion obtained by abstraction from individ- uahty in the concrete. This abstraction is not the same with that which, in the forma- tion of contingent general knowledge, gives me a general idea : this latter proceeds by the aid of comparison and generalization ; it is comparative abstraction ; — the other proceeds by simple sepa- ration, and we therefore call it immediate abstraction. The process of immediate abstraction operates only upon a sin- gle fact, (at least it does not appear that the second gives any thing more than the first*) and takes place inevitably ; while the other has need of many facts in order to take place, its conditions of action, its limits, is progressive developement, — and finally, is voluntary. He who does not wish to compare will never gener- alize. This synthesis is arbitrary ; the other is necessitated. Such is the origin and mode of developement of all actual cog- nitions. understanding in virtue of its own proper activity and by its own laws, was led to conceive the principle of causality, as universal, necessary, and applicable to eve- ry possible movement and change. — Tr. *That is— to illustrate still by the notion of cause— in the first instance of a change observed by consciousness, the mirid as necessarily conceives the notion of cause, of the relation of cause to the effect, as in the second or the thousandth in- Btance ; — and in the second or the thousandth instance the mind can do nothing more than apply the same principle. Though this necessary process of the mind may become clearer to consciousness by reflection, yet it is as actually a necessary process in the first as in the thousandth case ; it is a necessary and universal law of the mind which acts in the first case as in the last; and its necessity and universality do not depend upon, and are not the result of many particular facts ; while those contingent general conceptions which depend upon comparison and generalization, require several observations, and derive their extension and com- parative universality from them. What is thus true of the principle of causality — the relation of cause to effect, as a necessary and universal law, given by immedi- ate abstraction in a single concrete fact, is true of all other necessary principles. — Tr. 350 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Table op the Contingent and the Necessary. Contingent. Necessary. 1. Psychological Primitive. 1. Psychological Primitive, Individual fact, — Matter of the con- Individual Fact. — Concrete com. Crete — Succession of several indi. posed of an individual empirical part vidual facts. and of an absolute part. — No succea. Process. — Abstraction, comparison, sion. generalization. Process. — Immediate abstraction. — Result. — General idea. Elimination of the empirical part, and disengagement of the absolute. Result. — Pure notion of the abso. lute. 2. The Actual. 2. The Actual. Possibility of applying the general Impossibility of not applying the idea to a certain number of cases, or notion to all cases, or necessary ab. general principle. solute principle. Contingent not-empirical principles are obtained by the same process as necessary principles ; the only difTerence is in the re- sults. We do not obtain the absolute nor the necessary in itselfj but the irresistible. We shall not endeavour to determine strictly the number and order of actual necessary principles, nor the origin of all those principles, nor their dependence, nor the different faculties to whose exercise they are attached. Nor shall we attempt to describe the primitive internal facta with all tjie circumstances which accompany them. Nevertheless we shall attempt to recognize the origin of the necessary principles of substance, of unity, of causality, and of final causes, because we particularly describe the actual character- istics of these principles, and because they embrace and constitute all intellectual hfe. Primitive Internal Facts. 1. Affection or volition and in Elimination of the modification and general a determinate modification. — of the /. — Disengagement of the ab- Relation. — The /. solute relation of attribute to sub- ject. 2. Succession of passions or volitions Elimination of the determinate plu- and in general determinate plurality, rality, and of the / identical and one- Relation. — The / identical and one. Disengagement of the absolute re- lation of plurality to unity, of succes- sion to duration. 3. Voluntary fact and in general de- Elimination of the determinate ef- terminate effect willed Relation. — feet willed, and of the /. — Disen- Power and Willing of the /. gagement of the absolute relation of cause to effect. APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 351 4. Intentional volition and in general Elimination of the means and of determinate direction of the volunta- the end determinate. — Disengage, ry power, that is to say, a determin- ment of the absolute relation of means ate means. — Relation. — Determinate to end. End. The principle of identity is connected with the principle of substance, as the principle of intentionality with that of causality. These two orders of principles have a primitive difference which consists in this, that the relation which connects the determinate effect to the determinate cause, the determinate end to the determinate means, is an apperception of consciousness, while the relation which connects the determinate modification to the 7, the determinate being, is not an apperception of consciousness, but an instinctive manifesta- tion of the principle of substance in the consciousness ; and so, also, the relation which connects the / identical and one to the deter- minate succession and plurality, is not an apperception of the con- sciousness, but an instinctive manifestation of the necessary prin- ciple of unity in the memory. The absolute, being before us, governs us primitively, in the ori- ginal action of the mind, (though without appearing to us primi- tively under its pure form,) and forces us to conceive at once, un- der any determinate quality, a determinate being, which is the I; a natural hypothesis.* But as soon as the relation has been suggested to us by the force of the absolute in a determinate primitive concrete, of which the self, 7, is one of the terms, it dis- engages itself from the 7, and appears to us under its pure form, and in its universal evidence which explains and legitimates the primitive hypothesis. It is the same in regard to the manifestation of the identity of self, by the principle of unity in the memory. The primitive manifestation of the existence of the 7, and of its duration in consciousness and memory by the absolute princi- ples of substance and of unity, is the primitive bond or link which connects Ontology to Psychology, and the first light which illumin- ates and discloses the objective in the subjective. * ^vkotiOtjui, suppono, to place under as a support, to take as the ground : — ^vicodeais gupposition, Tplacing under as the ground of the phenomenal. — Tr. 352 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. OBJECTIVE SYSTEM. Ontology and Logic, External objects of knowledge ; means by which we attain them ; legiti- macy of those means. The Soul, Matter, and God. ! The Soul The soul or the real substantial self [not merely the phenome- nal self, the / of consciousness] is objective : for it does not fall un- der the eye of consciousness. Examination of the opinion which makes the me a phenomenon or a succession of phenomena. The knowledge of the soul or of the self real and substantial is the result of the application of the principle of substance. Application primitive and not logical, which gives a being de- terminate, and real, the me; a primitive fact made up : 1. of an individual modification : 2. of a me, and 3. of a relation individu- alized in its terms, but which discovers to us a fundamental and essential relation between every modification and every being, by a disengagement of the absolute. Thus the adequate knowledge of the absolute principle gives us a knowledge of self, of theme, as an objective substance. The soul is a complex word which comprises, both the determin- ate real substantial me, the knowledge of which, without being £in apperception of consciousness, is a primitive conception, psy- chological and ontological, and the substance of the me, which, considered in itself and not as in any particular individual, is an ul- terior and purely ontological conception. The self is the part of the objective sphere which manifests it- self to us the first. It is the first step that we take beyond our consciousness. Identity and unity of the Soul, [the substantial!,] Manifested by a judgment of the memory, as the /, by a judg- ment of consciousness. Opinion which makes the identity and unity of the I a percep- tion of the consciousness, examined. The judgment of [personal] identity disengages and brings out APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 353 the absolute relation of plurality to unity, of succession to dura- tion. Distinction between a primitive judgment conformed to the natural laws of all judgment, and a logical judgment starting from a logical and indeterminate principle, in order to arrive at a logical and indeterminate consequence. Matter, Two principles manifest it to us. The principle of causality and of intentional causality, — ob- tained in a primitive fact of consciousness, and become an absolute principle, — ^makes us conceive in certain cases external intentional causes. The intervention of perception which is not a principle, but an instinctive judgment, manifests to us, so to say, the mode of these causes, extension. The principle of substance gathered in the primitive fact of self, and become an absolute principle, sug- gests to us necessarily the conception of a real but indeterminate being under extension, and then extension appears as the quality of a substance which we call matter. External causes vary, that is, the qualities of matter ; but the principle of identity and unity gathered in the judgment of mem- ory, and become an absolute principle, necessarily suggests to us the conception of an identical being in the midst of the variations of these qualities, of a unity under this plurality, of a duration in which this succession takes place. Perception has been taken upon supposition, and not demon- strated, as a necessary intermediate. God, Experience withdrawing from matter the causality and inten- tionality which had at first been applied to it, and leaving to it only physical powers or forces, the principles of causality and in- tentionality remain, and, aided by the principle of unity, lead us to place the true causality and intentionality in a single supreme cause, which the principle of substance makes us conceive as a real and substantial being, that is, God. Legitimacy of the Means of Knowledge. In order to invalidate the certainty of the existence of the ob- jects of our knowledge, it has been said that the principles which give us these judgments, being only subjective principles, cannot have an objective authority. 31 354 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. Discussion of the Objective and Subjective* If, by subjective, be understood that which is relative to a par- ticular subject, and, by objective, that which is absolute, then it is not true that we obtain the objective by, subjective principles. For instance, what, in point of fact, is the principle of causality ? It is the impossibility of not applying to all possible cases (of change), the necessary relation of effect to cause. But we have obtained this necessary relation by abstracting it from the individ- ual, that is, the determinate subject. This necessary relation constitutes the necessary principle of causality. The principle of causality, therefore, supposes the non-relation to any particular and determinate subject whatever. Far from being a conception of the self, tt is an abstraction of it. The principle of causality is not, then, subjective, in the sense of being relative to a particular individual subject. When therefore this principle makes us con- ceive, e. g., the existence of God, we do not believe in the abso- lute on the faith of the relative, in the objective on the faith of the subjective ; but we believe in the absolute on the faith of the ab- solute, in the objective on the faith of the objective. The principles which give us external existences, give them therefore legitimately ; for the absolute legitimately gives the ab- solute. But if subjective be understood, as it is by us, to mean every thing which is internal, and objective every thing which is exter- nal, it is right to say that we believe in the objective on the faith of the subjective. But how would it be possible for us to know the external, but by an internal principle ? It is we who know. Now we are a determinate being, who knows only within himself, because his faculty of knowing is his own. No principle could make him conceive an existence, if it did not appear to his faculty of conceiving, that is to say, if it were not within him, if it were not internal. But this principle does not lose its authority, because it appears in a subject. Because an absolute principle falls under the con- sciousness of a determinate being, it does not follow that it becomes relative to that being : the absolute may appear in the determin- ate, the universal in the particular, the necessary in the contin- APPENDIX TO COUSIN ON LOCKE. 355 gent, intelligent personality in the /, man in the individual, the reason in consciousness, the objective in the subjective. The first act of faith is the belief in the soul, and the last, the belief in God. The intellectual life is a continual series of beliefs, of acts of faith in the invisible revealed by the visible, the exter- nal revealed by the internal. 'm 14 DAY UbE KETUKN TO DbIkVkOM WHICH BOKKOWED LOAN DEPT. Renewed books are subiect to imn>ed^aterecaU. uvxiuafiz -RSOEAteo- # LD 21A-50m-3,'62 (C7097sl0)476B General Library , University of Califorma Berkeley bSB? 7^; UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY